DISCLAIMER: I FORGOT TO PUT THIS ON HERE ON THE FIRST CHAPTER SO I THOUGHT ITD PUT BOTH ON HERE.

FOR CHAPTER1 I GIVE THANKS TO MY BETAS anime-manga Lovers AND hopelesslyundeniablyaddicted FOR DOING AN AMAZING JOB.

FOR CHAPTER2 I GIVE THANKS TO BETA hopelesslyundeniablyaddicted FOR DOING ANOTHER AMAZING JOB.

I OBVIOUSLY DONT OWN HARRY POTTER, IF I DID ID HAVE THE MONEY TO TELL THE WORLD THAT JK ROWLING NO LONGER OWNS IT BUT I DO SO THIS SINGULAR DISCLAIMER WILL NO LONGER BE POSTED SINCE COMMON SENSE DICTATES THAT, I AGAIN STATE, I DONT OWN HARRY POTTER.

I KNOW THE CHAPTERS ARE SHORT IM SLOWLY TRYING TO GET IT TO WHERE THEY WILL BE LONGER BUT ITS MY FIRST STORY ALL TOGETHER SO GIVE ME A SMALL BREAK.

ALSO IF YOU COMMENT THAT ITS GOOD OR BAD PLEASE GIVE ME A REASON AT LEAST. IF YOU SAY ITS GOOD TELL ME WHY ITS GOOD, IF ITS BAD TELL ME WHY. ITS ALWAYS GOOD TO HEAR MY READERS THOUGHTS SO I KNOW WHAT TO DO NEXT OR WHAT I NEGLECTED TO TELL OR DO IN THE STORY.

I THINK THATS IT SOOOOOOO MOVING ON TO THE STORY.

/

HOGWARTS GRYFFINDOR HOUSE, OCTOBER 30 1994

Harry Potter's morning was not going so well. Falling out of bed while simultaneously spilling the glass of water, that he at some point must have put on his night stand, on himself and being blinded by the morning light that shone brightly in his face. His roommates might have thought it was funny but he didn't.

Once he was in the bathroom, he looked into the mirror and slowly touched his own face, still trying to get used to how young he looked. If this was how he was going to react to himself he wasn't sure he would be ready to see everyone else. He was sort of happy that his roommates left him alone after they laughed at his misfortune. If not, they might have seen him crying, which is something he definitely wanted to avoid.

Taking a look at how his day had been so far he had concluded that it was his fourth year at Hogwarts. He didn't have 'I will not tell lies' marked into his hand, so it was before fifth year, and looking at Ron's bed showed that he had no rat so it was after the incident with Sirius so it was after third year.

Harry wasn't sure if he should be happy that he ended up in the year of the Tri-wizard tournament. On one hand, this year he was probably the loneliest. On the other hand, he could stop Voldemort from taking his blood for the ritual to regain a body. Sighing, Harry thought, "What am I to do? I had no plan when Draco and I did this. And I'm sure Hermione wouldn't want me winging a plan when it involves time travel.."

Walking out of the bathroom and getting dressed, Harry remembered that he had no clue if the time travel ritual had actually worked for him. If not, then this was going to be tough, although having a second person that understood what needed to be done would surely make things less stressful than having to do it by himself. He could tell others but that could end up blowing up in his face, so it was best to just leave that idea alone.

Heading out of the dorm room he heard snoring that could only come from one person: Ron. Frozen in place, he wasn't sure how to react. Right in front of him was the man that killed his best friend and ratted him out to the dictatorial Ministry of Magic... and who knows what else he has done? He didn't know if it was the pressure of the war that had him turn on him, or if he was like that from the start.

Making a decision he went over to Ron's bedside and pulled the curtain aside to show a passed out, snoring redhead. He slowly reached for his ex-friend's throat. With his hands just a centimetre away, Harry hesitated. 'Is this the right thing to do?'. The question was ringing in his head. A battle of revenge and compassion was raging within him and neither was winning.

Taking a deep breath he made his final decision and went for it. Grabbing Ron's nightshirt Harry picked him up off the bed and dropped him on the floor, which was amusing since the shock of being jolted out of bed and free-falling to the ground made it look like Ron was a trout out of water.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" Ron, still dazed, was looking around, and upon seeing Harry he glared at him. "What was that for?"

Smirking slightly, Harry started moving out of the dorm. "It was the only way to get you up and you'd have been mad at me if I didn't wake you for breakfast."

Going down the staircase, he heard Ron yell about how he wasn't going to miss breakfast for anything. I guess Ron wasn't totally angry with him, so that would rule out that the goblet has already spit his name out. There was still time. Making it to the bottom of the staircase he looked behind him, thinking about his decision.

He could have killed Ron but it wouldn't have been right. The Ron in front of him didn't kill Hermione, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be keeping an eye on him. No longer would he be as forgiving to him. He might not have killed her, but his future self showed what kind of character might be hiding under his skin.

Sighing deeply, he turned to the common room's exit, not wanting to wait for Ron. He headed towards the great hall. He had many questions unanswered and many objectives to get done. He wasn't sure what to do or how he was going to do anything, anyway. Harry was really in a deep hole this time, and what was worse is the deal itself he made was with death.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

UNKOWN, UNKNOWN

Looking around Harry saw nothing but white. Up, down, left, right, in front of him, behind him...; it all was white.

Minutes pass by, and with a small, cold, breeze a cloud of black smoke appeared slowly, coming closer and closer 'till it was just an arm's length away. Though it was just a mass of smoke Harry knew he was being watched, and when it spoke it had a voice that made him freeze to the very core of his soul. "Well, what do we have here, attempting time travel, are you, Mr. Potter?"

Not being able to speak all he did was nod. The cloud laughed and started swirling and bending, slowly having a shape and form. When it was done he was shocked, a billowing hood and cloak stood before him with hands and wings made of bone. He didn't need any confirmation to know what was before him, and if Harry had any doubts the scythe that the figure just pulled out of thin air took it all away.

When the cloaked individual spoke, its tone was of sadistic amusement. "Well, Mr. Potter, as you know, I am Death, and if you want to go back in time then you'll have to pay the toll". Then what Harry saw next would forever haunt him. He saw Death's skull appear from the hood with a maddening grin.