I do not own Harry Potter, The Gamer, or Fallout which are the inspirations for this fanfic.

Chapter 2: Dealing with Death

Darkness.

Emerald eyes opened to take in their surroundings, only to find they were surrounded by nothing. Floating in a vast sea of darkness, Harry felt the weight of the Abyss press down on him. Like the endless void of space but without even the prick of light that a star offers to give him a sense of direction and presence. Not even during his time in the cupboard under the stairs had he felt so horribly alone.

"Huh. What happened to the train station?"

"There will be no train station this time. That is because, this time, there is no choice to choose. My will is law and you will bow before it."

Harry started as a voice seemed to echo inside his very skull. A voice that seemed a bit pissed off.

"Wh-Who's there?!"

"Really? That was a pretty cliche response. Who do you think, the Easter Bunny? You died Mr. Peverell. Who do you think would greet you in an endless abyss after dying?"

"...Santa Clause?"

"I'm going to ignore that, because otherwise I would feel compelled to erase you from existence."

"Right. Sorry about that. I can only assume I am speaking to Death then. The question is, why? Why am I here and not moving on to the afterlife? And did you say Peverell? My name is Potter, not Peverell."

"The fact that you do not know your own name is irrelevant to me. What matters is that you died when you should not have. You united the Hallows. My Hallows. My gift to the Peverell line, that when united by their head of family, would have made that scion my avatar on Earth. You became Head of the Peverell line when you killed the previous head. And, while you united my Hallows, the stone was damaged during the destruction of the Horcrux that infested it. Thus, when you united my Hallows, instead of becoming my Avatar, you became some corrupted perversion of what you should have been. My powers made your soul immortal, but not your body. With your body dead, and no Horcrux to tether you to that plane of existence, your soul was cast into the afterlife. However, with an immortal soul you are unable to truly crossover unless you master my powers. Thus, you have now become stuck in the Inbetween. You now reside in the Abyss and with even the connection to my powers that you should have wielded corrupted, you are stuck."

"That...is a lot to take in. When did I kill some guy named Peverell? How am I even a Peverell to begin with? And I'm supposed to be immortal? And I'm stuck? What the fuck?!"

"Silence. I care not for your opinion. That is the state of things. If it did not trouble me so, I would have left you to your fate. However, you are supposed to be my Avatar on Earth. You are supposed to oversee the balance and ensure another Voldemort does not occur. And yet, you are here. And now I am forced to intervene. Be thankful boy. You are about to receive a gift that none have been given before. I am going to send you back to your beginning so that you might relive your life. This time you had better do things right. Time is not my domain, and doing this will cost me a favor with Chronos. You will not get a third chance. Since you are going to be going back to before you united my Hallows, your soul will no longer be immortal. This means that until you reunite my Hallows, you will remember nothing of this conversation or your previous life. Mortals are simply too feeble minded to comprehend and remember such things. So, in order to make sure you know your purpose I will grant you a boon. I will gift you a power that will remind you of your purpose and help you to monitor your progress, so that you stay on task. Do not fail me. If you do, I will reincarnate your soul into one of Aberforth Dumbledore's goats."

A myriad of emotion's crossed Harry's face as he listened to Death. Incredulity, consternation, resignation, and finally utter horror as the last thing Death said registered in his mind.

"Wait...wha-?!"

And suddenly he felt a jerking sensation. It felt similar to a portkey, except instead of his gut, the pull centered upon his heart. Also, it was much more painful.

A/N: For anyone who missed the joke…Aberforth Dumbledore is a goat fucker. I figured I'd just throw that out there.