The End
When Harry died, he didn't expect this.
To be fair, Harry did not expect anything. He had not expected that he would head to his death at the hands of Voldemort until he had seen Snape's memories. Maybe he had thought of what happened after death sometime in the last year when he was on the run but he had not expected death to be this . . . lifeless.
Harry looked around and all he saw was a barren wasteland. He was standing in a desert and the land was drier than anything he had seen. Heck, there were some cracks on the floor. There was not even a vulture or a cactus nearby as he remembered from the cartoons Dudley used to watch when he was young.
Until an hour ago, Harry had thought he would not be dead but he had not felt even a moment of hesitation when he went to die. Why?
Harry did not know.
Heck, he wasn't even all that shocked about the fact that after death, he is in an endless infertile desert full of nothing, not even a drop of moisture in the air.
"Welcome, Master"
Harry did not know how but he knew this voice would come soon, he somehow expected it. Harry did not know what was happening but perhaps, maybe he would know soon. He turned around and as he expected, it was not even a person but a cloud shaped like one.
The cloud of smoke was dark and grey, like the air from a factory, but it seemed to be the most lively thing in this wasteland. It had a torso, two arms and a head that was shaped like a white skull, though it had no legs. It seemed to be a creature made of bones. The only solid thing about it was the scythe it held in its hand, which was about as tall as Hagrid from what Harry could assume.
The tall figure's red eyes stared into Harry's soul. It said to him n a gravelly voice, "It is I, Master, your loyal servant. Your kind calls me 'Death'. It is an apt name, I must say, though it does not begin to recognise my true abilities."
'Death', as it called itself, seemed to glow pure white for a second, which blinded Harry for a microsecond. He looked back at it and he asked the first thing on his mind, "What the hell's going on?"
_
Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked at the still Sun on the horizon, it hadn't moved in the past three hours and still showed no signs of movement.
Death and he had been conversing for a long time now and this place is apparently the first universe to ever exist. Death had told him that the fragments of this reality created all others, one of which he was from.
Death had told him that the original Harry Potter had taken the same route he had but he had been able to survive the Killing Curse for some reason, the entity did not specify the reason but Harry suspected it was because he was the Master of Death before dying, unlike Harry himself.
See, every universe has a set of rule which does not match one another. In some universes, magic and science can't coexist and in some, they are bread and butter to one another. Like this, in Harry's universe, it was not possible to be the Master of Death before dying unlike in this one. Hence, he died.
Stupid Dumbledore didn't account for multiversal meddling, Harry joked in his head.
Harry asked Death, "If things were going well here, how did it end?"
Death looked into the horizon, silent for a minute, before speaking, "It was due to righteous greed and pride. The original Harry Potter may have had a nice heroic ending but after his ending, he had begun to receive the powers and knowledge of the Master of Death. Rather than using them for good like he always did, he rightfully decided to live a peaceful life."
Death paused for a second and then continued, "The muggles, who had already been heading towards it, discovered magic and as it always happens, war on something not conforming to normal standards was declared by everyone. The war was brutal for many due to the underestimation of the enemy and in the end, everyone lost."
Death looked at Harry and said, "Harry Potter was too proud to take help from the powers he received from me and hence, he failed to protect and help his family."
Harry, who was silent all this time, asked, "How does that Harry Potter not using your powers result in the world ending?"
Death answered, "Grief, Master."
Harry looked at Death in confusion, who answered his unasked question, "The grief that that Harry Potter had provoked him to use my powers which certainly ended all violence but also resulted in the end of the world."
Harry suddenly saw a person standing in front of him. The person was glowing and then-
BOOM!
Harry felt the ground under him die a bit more at the mention of the event.
He unknowingly gulped. Maybe the powers granted by Death are far greater than he could have ever imagined. Too powerful, in fact. But, Harry wondered, what use is the power if he could never use it?
He is dead, is he not?
Harry asked Death, "So I dead now? Like dead-dead?"
Death nodded and answered, "That is the typical routine, Master, but you are the Master of Death so you are an exception."
Harry's neck snapped towards Death and he asked, "So, what? I go back to my life and try not to be like the original version of me?"
Death said, "That is impossible, Master. Since the time between universes moves strangely, your universe is currently at a stage that is about 50 years after your death, which means that your body is now a brittle skeleton with a scarred skull."
Harry was shocked to hear that but he contained himself. He had accepted that he was going to die and even the chance to live is kind of like a miracle to him. So, he asked, "What do you mean by living again then?"
Death's eyes glowed white and Harry found himself surrounded by the smoke that Death was made of. He felt its red and black eyes staring at him and judging him. The raspy voice whispered, "Master, you have two choices. Choose wisely."
Death continued, "You may choose to live as a ghost in your original world, serving as an agent of warning of what the Master of Death could achieve."
Harry had a vision of a dark landscape with him being the Grim Reaper, flying over people and defending the innocent while reaping those who deserved it. He shook his head, that may be the right thing but he really did not want to be like Death in any way. Somehow, it felt as if he would lose himself if he did that.
Death's voice rang again, the gravelly tone seeming to torture Harry's ears, "Or you may go and live in a loop of endless resurrection."
Harry had another vision but this time, he was ready for it. He saw one person living his life, from birth to death, and then another person living his life and then another person and another and another and another and . . .
The vision disappeared.
Something strange in the vision was that each person he saw had green eyes, just like Harry, as well as a scar on their physical being, be it on the forehead or the chest or even on one's thighs, in one case.
Death said, "The second option is chosen for most souls with the difference being that the soul is cleansed of any memories. The souls move between universes and timelines to find an uninhabited body. This is done so that the soul does not grow weary and fade away but your soul is not like that, as you are my Master. You will have your memories and you would continue to live like this for eternity, Master."
Harry asked, "Can I change my choice?"
Death answered, "Never. Your only hope, if you are stuck, is for a new Master of Death to be chosen. But do remember, Master, according to your units of time, you are just the third Master of Death in the entire existence of any universe."
Harry closed his eyes and then opened them. He blurted out a question, "I get that the original Harry was the first, but who was the second?"
Death seemed to smile for some reason and answered, "It was a Harry Potter from another world, your versions seem to be fated to this destiny. The second Harry Potter was a kinder man, perhaps due to the fact that he knew what it is like to grow up with parents. He was from a universe close to here, in fact. Do you wish to visit his world?"
Harry, feeling curious about his predecessor, nodded and suddenly, he was not inside Death but standing beside him, which was honestly, a lot better than before.
Harry looked around the world and saw a green forest and the sun over a couple of hills. Birds seemed to chirp and Harry could spot a few deers running towards a lake in the distance. It was a beautiful view.
Harry asked in awe, "How did he do this?"
Death's voice was cold as it answered, "He made humans leave this world."
"What?!"
Death told him, "Harry Potter grew to be a kind man and helped humans to the point that they could advance to the point that science was the same as magic. After that, the second Harry Potter leads a war against the creature you call Voldemort, which he lost. After his loss, he unlocked the powers of the Master of Death and vanquished the silly creature. Finally, he invented space travel due to which humans simply left Earth to become galactic nomads."
Harry let out a breath of relief as he found that the second one was not responsible for genocide like the first one was.
Harry had a sudden thought. Why is he just calling them the first and second ones? Perhaps he could give them a name so that he does not get confused.
Harry shook his head and cleared his thoughts. He could name his predecessors later but at the moment, the only thing that mattered was the choice that Death put in front of him. He asked, "What did the first and second Harry choose?"
Death answered in its emotionless tone, "The first one chose the first option but as his Earth was clearly destroyed, he roamed the whole universe in search of justice and protection he wanted to spread. He roamed for centuries and millennia until the second Harry Potter was chosen to be the Master of Death."
Harry curiously asked, "What happened to him then?"
Death looked at Harry and said, "He met his fate, you needn't know more."
Suppressing every horrible scenario after hearing that, he gave a small cough and continued, "What option did the second one take?"
Death answered, "He chose the second option to keep reincarnating."
Harry asked, "And- ?"
Death cut him off and said, "He met his fate as well, you do not have the authority to ask more, Master. Now, choose."
Harry closed his eyes and thought but he knew his answer quite easily. He had lived a life with no justice and no peace. He had grown up trying to help people, no matter if they had previously tried to hurt him.
Harry spoke his answer.