I own nothing relating to any series, including Harry Potter.

Another Chance

Chapter 1

Harry Potter, age fifty two, died from being tossed through The Veil.

The Veil was reserved for unredeemable criminals and, unfortunately, that was what the world saw him as.

His original crime was use of restricted magic in a government facility. Of course, one of the best ways to combat Fiendfyre was with the use of such magic. And he, as the Head of the DMLE and being the fact he was combating Fiendfyre with it instead of an enemy, was freely allowed to employ it, in the center of the Ministry of Magic or not.

And even with the spells he had been deploying, combating uncontrolled Fiendfyre was not an easy task. Three of his Aurors died before he shouted out commands for them to focus on evacuating civilians and the like before coming to assist him. He had more confidence in those he had selected to help him, and that they did, stalling the dark flames long enough for the other aurors to do their jobs before rejoining him and helping in properly extinguishing the spell.

It had taken six hours to, after dealing with the Fiendfyre, let the no-maj government know about the terrorist attack, give them a description of the group that attacked the Ministry and then go back and help coordinate the search for victims.

It was only when Harry went to report to Hermione, who was the Minister of Magic, that he noticed he couldn't find her. Unlike some previous ministers, Harry knew Hermione wouldn't just run and hide at the first sign of danger. He knew she wouldn't just run in behind him anymore, but she'd still stay and try to help where she could. Having three masteries certainly helped her cause.

With the search winding down, he left the continued efforts to his subordinates and went to the floo in his office and placed a call to The Library, what Hermione and Ron called their home. It was named so because of the sheer number of books, no-maj and magical alike, and a small joke from Harry after his visit one time.

Unfortunately, Ron mentioned he hadn't seen her since she had gone to work that morning. He then offered dinner once he had found Hermione, something Harry was thankful for with how the day had gone.

After ending the floo call, he sent a patronus to Hermione's location, hoping she'd send one back. By now he was worried. It wasn't like Hermione to just up and leave in the middle of a crisis.

Deciding that he could spare two Aurors, he sent them out to look for the Minister, starting in the Atrium and working their way down to the Department of Mysteries. And, using the excuse that the Minister was missing during an emergency situation, he was able to order a handful of Unspeakables to search their departments. And it wasn't as if he was lying, but it was the only way the Head of the DLME could order an Unspeakable.

While they were searching their areas, Harry went right to her office. He hadn't gotten a return patronus, so his worry was just increasing, causing him to grip his wand more firmly than before.

When he first entered her office, he didn't immediately see her. That wasn't a surprise, they were in a state of emergency. Her chair was pushed back, which struck him as odd. The only mess Hermione ever made was when she was working on her research and, in his twenty six years Hermione had been Minister, he had never seen her desk a mess, nor her chair out of place, even despite the other emergencies they had dealt with.

The next sight he saw, as he walked around her desk, made Harry's blood run cold. He first spotted just a bit of brown, a color that stood out on the black stone floor. The gray in it, more from stress than age, let him know who it was before he even saw her face.

Harry had seen too many bodies to know just how long she had been there. The Fiendfyre had been a diversion to draw the aurors away from her, though he didn't know if she had been killed before or after it had been cast.

Rather than let his emotions control him, as he would have in the past, he forced his emotions down. It meant that he couldn't summon a patronus, but that was hardly a concern of his at the moment. He decided on the most direct route of getting attention and sent a blasting curse towards the window that overlooked the atrium.

There was no time to be gentle about it. He shouted out for his aurors to prevent anyone else from leaving, his voice more hoarse than he expected. He then ordered Malfoy, his second in command, to meet in Hermione's office.

While he waited for him to return, he flicked through a flurry of spells trying to find anything in the room. Finding nothing, he cast another flurry of spells over Hermione's body, trying to find a cause of death. There were no signs of physical trauma of any kind but there was spell residue he was all too familiar with.

He could hardly control his anger before Draco walked in, the reins on his magic slipping. He was thankful when Draco arrived as it allowed him to focus on something else.

He explained the situation to Draco, who he then left in charge while he went and told Ron and his family what happened.

In his current condition, it would be hard for him to summon a patronus but Draco didn't have a problem with it, so he sent one to Ron, Rose and Hugo. It wasn't to tell them what happened, but to let them know that something had happened and the Weasley family and Harry would be coming soon to talk to them.

Harry didn't go straight to the Weasley's. Instead he left the Ministry and Apparated to the only place he could think of where he could let his emotions loose without harming anyone, at least not anyone that hadn't condemned themselves. Azkaban was the best location for that, specifically the roof of Azkaban.

He Apparated over the wards and used the same method of flight Voldemort had in order to 'float' down and land on the roof. As soon as his foot touched the roof, the weak rein on his emotions was let loose. The wild magic he let loose on Dumbledore's office was paltry in comparison to what let loose on top of Azkaban.

He could thank Voldemort for how strong he was magically, in all honesty. Voldemort marked him as his equal when Harry was barely over a year old. With Voldemort being one of the most powerful wizards since Grindlewald, who had once duelled the Dumbledores, who were both considered up-and-coming dueling prodigies to a standstill, Harry had a lot of potential, most of which went unrealized with the practice of training ones magic while going through schooling falling out of service.

The power Harry let loose shattered the already damaged top floors of Azkaban, ruining the depressing prison further. The scream he let out rivaled the thunder that constantly cracked through the clouds, a part of the lasting Dementor effect from hundreds of years of their influence tainting the surrounding area.

He screamed until his voice gave out, until the stone bricks under him fell with the rest of the vacant top floors. If he didn't want to catch Hermione's killer more than anything, he would've let himself fall too.

He decided he could grieve more later, it was no longer the time for sadness but for vengeance.

Now that his emotions weren't seconds away from snapping free of his control, he tied them back down before he Apparated outside The Library. He regretted what he had to do but he felt it was better coming from him than another Auror.

Harry despised that he had to tell them, but not telling them would do more harm than good in the long run. He told them the truth of the events that transpired, down to the last detail he could remember. He even told them that the only reason that they hadn't detected the dark magic use in her office was because the Fiendfyres ambient magic it was releasing was setting off alerts even at the Department of Mysteries.

They didn't take it well, they couldn't have, not after learning their wife and mother had been killed with an unforgivable in her office.

Ron raged, his own magic whipping up a frenzy that made a mess of the den. He blamed Harry for it all. Harry couldn't blame him either. He was responsible for Hermione's security anywhere she went. Two Aurors stationed outside her door while she was in her office and four while she was out and about outside the Ministry. Harry even tested her home wards regularly, just to make sure they hadn't degraded.

Rose took Ron's wand away so he couldn't cast spells at Harry and Hugo had to physically hold Ron back so he wouldn't assault their godfather.

As much as Harry wanted to stay and mourn with them, Rons mood was too dangerous to be around. With how he was still feeling, he could snap at any moment and he didn't want Ron to bear the brunt of his emotions, especially since Ron had nothing to do with what happened.

He left without a word, Appariting out.

He wanted to go home and go to sleep, just pretend like this day never happened. But even if he wanted to, there was nothing left back at his home. His three kids had long since moved out and started their own families while he and Ginny had divorced before Lily had graduated Hogwarts. The only reason they had divorced was because, as a result of the basilisk venom still running through his veins, Harry was sterile.

He never would have known, had Hermione not made stricter guidelines for becoming an Auror, including a full medical check-up. Ginny had been, for lack of better wording, tossed out on her ass and declared an enemy of House Potter, as little as that actually did. He never told his kids and never planned to, at least not until his deathbed.

With no plans to return home and no one there to return to, Harry returned to the Ministry. If he wasn't still holding back his emotions, he would've been shocked by the fact that he was arrested as soon as he tried to take his role as Head of the DMLE back from Draco.

He spent the following ten hours being accused twelve different ways for both the Fiendfyre attack and murder of the Minister. And it just served to worsen his mood. He was feeling down right murderous at the end of the questioning, in which he was found guilty even though he had several dozen alibis and several times that watching him combat the uncontrolled Fiendfyre. That it was Draco questioning him just drove the knife deeper.

He was sent to Azkaban, locked in their highest security cell while he awaited trial. That wasn't how it was done anymore, not since he had become Head of the DMLE. Just walking around Azkaban was depressing. He convinced Hermione to help him create a law that made it so only those with life imprisonments or death sentences could spend time in Azkaban, excluding a constantly rotating shift of Auror guards.

The fact that Harry was in a cell meant that Draco, who was now Acting Minister, meant that Harry was going to get a guilty sentence no matter what. And the guards were no doubt on the Malfoy payroll, seeing as they beat every meal time, and didn't actually give him food. Even the amount of water he got was reduced, barely enough to keep him hydrated.

He spent three weeks in Azkaban before he was sat in front of the Wizengamot, in the exact same chair he sat in back shortly before his fifth year at Hogwarts. They then proceeded to explain and show 'evidence' of Harry's involvement in a poorly planned coup d'etat, most of said evidence contradicting itself because it would've meant Harry was in at least six places at the same time, which was impossibly unless he used six different Time-Turners, of which there was only four known remaining after his fifth year break-in.

Half of the 'Aurors' they used to verify Harry's location looked like they had been pulled right off the street from Nocturn Alley and there was only one Harry actually recognized because Harry personally fired the corrupt bastard.

The real only solid piece of information the Wizengamot had was a first draft of Hermione's removal of the Statute of Secrecy, which they explained off as Harry wanting to keep the Statute in place, in spite of how adamant Minister Granger about ushering magic-kind into a new age and accepting muggles (a word no longer used because it was considered as bad as mudblood, if it didn't sound as so) among them for the first time since the fifteen-hundreds.

Harry couldn't defend himself, despite it supposing to be a trial, one of the chains wrapping around his head so he couldn't speak. It was only after the vote, which was majority in favor of him being guilty, that Harry was allowed to speak.

Draco spoke first, "Harry James Potter, you have been tried and found guilty by the court of law. As such, for your murder of the Minister and attempted coup, the sentence is Death by Veil. Have you any last words?"

Once Draco finished, the chains around Harry's head removed themselves, allowing him to speak. He was silent at first, his green eyes burning brightly with both hate and barely controlled magic as he memorized the faces of each and every person in the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse from how dry his throat felt, "I have looked into each of your eyes," He had to force an amplifying charm just so they could hear him, "And all I see are cowards. People so frightened of change that they would murder and frame innocents all so they might die in their comfortable rot."

"Under Hermione's lead, there has been more peace, prosperity and opportunity than there has even been seen during any one Ministers guidance. She just wanted what she thought was best for all, not just for the few. Rather than accept it like grown adults, you all went kicking and screaming into the night. You might have hated what she was doing and your children might've hated it, but your grandchildren would have accepted."

Harry growled out loud, letting his magic flare against the restricting manacles. Had it not been for his high pain tolerance, the burning of the steadily heating metal would've been too much to bear, "You are all lemmings, allowing yourselves to be guided off a cliff to your demise so long as the leader offers you stagnant comfort."

"I swear by my magic and my title of Master of Death, I will kill each and every last one of you before I pass through that Veil. I will wipe your names from every record and kill off your bloodlines so that no one may know such cowardly men and women once represented the innocent people of the British Wizarding World."

As two of Draco's Aurors grabbed him and started to drag him away, chair and all, he shouted at them all, "I curse you! I curse you all to eternal suffering for each villainous act you have had a hand in! Hope I never find you, pray to those that you worship that you never see me again for, if you do, I shall make eternal suffering seem like a pleasant dream! So say I, Harry Potter, Master of Death!"

It was not even five minutes later before Harry was tossed through the Veil, accepting his fate but still determined, no matter how, to avenge Hermione's needless death and his pointless execution.

Rather than hate those that he barely knew for framing him for killing his best friend - he still hated them, that wasn't going to change - he reserved his rage for those that had pretended to be his friends and yet sat at the Wizengamot and voted for his death sentence, who cheered at him being thrown through the Veil for a crime he couldn't have commited. The Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys, the Changs, the Notts, the MacMillans, the Parkinsons, the Selwyns and the Higgs to name just a few. Each and every family that had a seat and voted would be erased from history. Because they didn't care if he was innocent, neither would he care.

He knew it was just a naive thought during his last moments but it gave him some sense of comfort.

As he took his first steps, he was greeted by a sight he hadn't expected. It was the same place where he had met Dumbledore after being hit by Voldemort's killing curse. There was no malformed fetus baby thing that had been Voldemort, thank goodness. That thing was just creepy to be around.

Much like last time, he barely had to think for robes to appear nearby. He took them and pulled them on. They were soft, clean, and warm. It was still extraordinary how they had appeared just like that, the moment he had wanted them.

Just moments after he pulled the robes on, he heard a voice behind, one all too familiar, "Hello Harry. What are you doing here so soon?"

He spun around rapidly, making himself faintly dizzy in the process. There she was, in midnight blue robes like Dumbledore had once been. He couldn't answer her, his throat feeling like it had closed up. Unable to answer, he did the next best thing. He rushed forward, capturing Hermione in a hug so tight that it would've put Molly to shame. He buried his head into Hermione's shoulder and wept.

Harry wasn't a physical person. He wore his heart on his sleeve and expressed his emotions freely but he hated being touched. That he grabbed Hermione and forced a hug upon her was a surprise to him.

He didn't know how long he wept on Hermione's shoulder and he didn't remember her hugging him back but he was thankful for it when he finally noticed. It took him more time still to calm down and a little longer to pull his head off of Hermione's shoulder. When he was finally able to speak, his voice was a little hoarse from his crying, "They killed you. They killed you and blamed it on me. Everything that you worked towards torn down by stupid wizards who were so scared of change that they rather kill an innocent witch and rot in their stagnant society than accept it."

Harry continued, his anger building again, "Your own husband voted to have me pushed through the Veil! People we thought of as friends, who we thought we could trust with our lives betrayed us!"

Hermione reached up to cup his cheeks, one thumb rubbing his cheek, pushing away a lingering tear, "Yes, I know." Upset at he was, that got a chuckle out of him. "But it's okay. They're going to get the fate they made for themselves. Your final curse, surprising as it may be, worked. The ones that voted to have you pushed through the Veil and their entire bloodline are going to die out and the ones that started the situation that led to us meeting here are going to suffer fates worse than you can imagine, before and after their demise."

He was confused, "How could you know that?"

"Because," she said, "I've spent a long time here." She looked around, "Limbo is the place between the two states of existence. Once you leave Limbo for the afterlife, you can't live again. But the dead can still come to Limbo. I've had a lot of conversations with a lot of different people, Harry. The Deathly Hallows, believe it or not, were actually created by Death, though the title they grant you is wrong. Rather than Master of Death, it'd be more accurate to call you an Agent of Death."

"So what?" Harry asked, "I board the train and go to the afterlife?"

"If you want. But I have an offer from… let's call them a friend." Hermione pursed her lips, "It's all rather complicated. Time, at least here, doesn't truly exist. That's why I've been here a long time even though just three weeks have passed for you. They, the friend, offer a second chance. Being an Agent of Death, you're granted certain liberties with life. As such, you can decide when you want to 'board the train'."

Hermione shook her head, "That's not quite right. You can't live forever, that'd be impossible. What I mean is that you can choose when you go back. You can go back seconds after you were forced through the Veil, ten years after you were sent through the Veil… or back before your first year at Hogwarts."

She smiled sadly at him, "I know that, no matter what I do, I can't persuade you not to seek vengeance. But that doesn't mean I can't convince you to not go it alone."

Harry felt his heart beating hard, which was strange considering he was dead, "Wait, you mean I can travel back in time?!"

"Well no. To travel back in time would indicate that there would be at least two versions of yourself at one time, like back during our third year at Hogwarts," She explained, "This would be… Do you remember how you woke up after Voldemort hit you with the killing curse? You woke up in your body. It would be like that, just the body you pick when decide on when. If you do decide on the future, your body would be in something of a post-dementor state. Because your body wouldn't disappear after passing through the Veil, it'll be taken by the Department of Mysteries and studied. They won't find anything after extensive study and your body will be effectively left alone, leaving you free to wake up and move without interference."

Harry shook his head, "No, no. I don't care about the future. You said my curse worked, right? Then I'm fine leaving them to what they deserve." He pulled away from Hermione and started to pace back in forth in thought. He was going to the past, he had no doubts about that, he was more pacing to think about when he was going back.

He turned to Hermione suddenly, pausing in place, "You can't join me, can you? That's why you haven't mentioned anything about yourself."

Hermione shook her head, "No, I can't. Like I said, you're special. You've always been doing things the average person can't even dream of."

Harry, once again, walked forward and hugged Hermione, "I don't want to do this alone."

She wrapped her arms back around him, surprised by him initiating a second hug, "You won't have to. When you think she's ready, share your memories with my younger self. Luna could help too. As much as I don't believe in Divination, Luna is actually a seer. She sees the possible futures, what might happen if some events were to take place or if some events don't. It's part of why she's a little… strange. But don't rely on her, she would be just a girl when you go back."

After the hug broke up, Harry spoke again, "Anything else I need to know before I make my decision?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, I can't actually tell you anything. I can give you advice on what to do but what you do is ultimately up to yourself."

Harry opened his mouth to speak but snapped it closed as a thought passed his mind. He decided to speak his mind, "If I go back to my younger self, what happens to everyone that was born or died? I mean, if I go back and you don't, what happens to you here?"

Hermione pursed her lips, "That… I don't know. As far as I've been told, you're the first Agent of Death and it only has two uses that we're aware of and you've already done both. It's possible that we'll cease to exist since, from your point of view, it will never have happened. It's just as possible that, since we exist outside of time, your going back won't affect us and will instead create a branching timeline. If that is the case then the only reason you didn't create one the last time you went back is because you didn't actually die, unlike this time. But these are all just theories."

"That… is a lot to think about," Harry said. He started pacing again, his thoughts going back to when he should go back to. What Hermione told him really was a lot to think about, too much for the moment, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

After a couple moments of silence, Hermione spoke again, "Harry, if I may suggest something?" When Harry stopped walking and looked at her, she continued, "I want you to help Luna. Her mom died in an accident when Luna was nine from improperly calculated Arithmancy during her attempts to artificially create mage sight. I don't know if you can save her but I at least want you to try, for Luna."

Harry smiled back at her, "Of course. The lot of us probably would've died a lot sooner if not for Luna." He hummed, "That really narrows it down. I was thinking about going back some time around our first year but a few years earlier won't hurt." A faint grin crossed his face, "Anything about your past I should try and help you with?"

Hermione shook her head, "Nothing you should try and change, no. Even a minor difference can have gigantic results. You help me with something and I say or do something entirely differently that changes something else which causes everything you know to be completely different. Though your going back will change things anyway, it should have a minimal impact on the magical world until you help Luna."

Hermione blinked, "Oh, right. There is one thing. If the troll still barges into the girls bathroom in our first year at Hogwarts, make sure it's you that saves me. I don't want the alternate me to feel indebted to Ron in any way. Especially after how he's treated you. I'd be angry, but there's really no point in it. You're more than angry enough for the two of us."

"That I can do. You sure that's it?" Harry asked, "You don't want me to do anything else?"

She smiled, as sweet a smile he had ever gotten from her, "Just to be careful with pushing friendship on her. She… I was socially stunted from not having any friends before Hogwarts. When you saved me, I latched on to the both of you and didn't want to let go no matter what. It's part of the reason why I stuck with you through so much."

Harry smirked. It was a joke between them, her teasing him for all the shenanigans he got her into during their years at Hogwarts, and more still after she became Minister though none quite so dangerous.

Harry figured it had been long enough and looked around, "I think it's about time." He looked back to Hermione, "As much I'll miss you, I need to do this."

Hermione smiled again, "I know. That's why I haven't tried to stop you. The only reason I told you about your options is because I thought you should know, I didn't have the right to hide it from you. And I knew that, if you had the option, you would go and save as many people as you could."

Her tone changed quickly to the faux-scolding she used when he did something that was technically legal but morally objectionable, "You better take your time coming back Harry. I'd be very cross with you if I find out you didn't die of old age when you return."

Harry chuckled, "Alright, I'll make sure not to rush. See you later Hermione."

Hermione beamed at him, her voice sounded loud and strong in his ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring her figure, "See you later Harry."

He closed his eyes to block out the light and when he next opened them, he was staring up at the underside of his relatives stairs in the cupboard that was his room for nearly ten years.