Reshaping Destiny
Author: Lahori Ajnabi
Summary: Harry dies after a very mediocre life and is appalled he didn't do better, so when Death gives him a chance, he grabs the opportunity to go back. Time-Travel to Sixth Year.
Chapter 1: Death
Sirius was right. Dying was quicker and easier than falling asleep. Some of that might have had to do with potions that the Healers at St Mungo's were pumping through his system, but nevertheless, dying was easy. He was alive one moment and then dead the next.
Death, on the other hand, was much more complicated. All of a sudden, the throbbing discomfort in his head receded. He suddenly remembered everything - every swing of Aunt Petunia's frying pan, every fight with Ginny, every word of every one of Binn's history lectures. He understood why things had turned out the way they had. Why Dumbledore had placed him with the Dursleys, why they had won the war, why it didn't end up mattering much anyway. It was as if he could zoom out and watch the arc of his life. The highs - he definitely peaked at Hogwarts - the lows in his twenties, the mediocrity he had settled into by his thirties, fading away into irrelevance till his death in a freak terrorist attack in his fifties.
"What do you think?" asked a voice that came from right next to him. Harry wasn't surprised though, he knew who it was and why they were there. "Come, let us walk."
They fell into lockstep with each other, Harry Potter and Death, for that is what wizards called him. Death, or the Grim Reaper. Others among the Muggles knew him as Azrael or Samael, some as the Malakh al-Mavet, the Angel of Death.
"It just seems so… average," said Harry. "I could've been more, I could've done better."
"It is all relative," said Death. "You could also have done worse. See what happens if you had, for instance, shaken Draco Malfoy's hand on the Hogwarts Express."
And Harry knew that to be true, for his body would have been taken over by Tom Riddle's diary and the two Voldemorts waging a war that would have levelled most of the planet.
"You could also have done much better," continued Death, "if you hadn't asked the Weasleys for help getting onto the platform."
And Harry knew that to be true as well. The memory appeared in his mind and he saw Daphne Greengrass taking tentative, hesitant steps towards him, encouraged by her parents, right as Mrs Weasley's voice boomed out, "Packed with Muggles of course." He saw a world where he defeated the Dark Lord, but with less he took a seat on the Wizengamot and passed laws that saved lives and prevented the rise of many future dark lords. Where Britain was a force for good and justice in an unjust world.
"That's a surprise," he commented. "Her, I never would have thought."
"You would have been good friends," said Death. "Maybe more."
Harry stopped, a feeling of confusion coming over him for the first time since he had died.
"There are no maybes about that sort of thing," he said, turning to face Death. "If it didn't happen, it wasn't Written."
Death stared back at him impassively. "And yet, it was Written."
"How can that be?" asked Harry. "I cannot have another chance. There is no horcrux in me any more to take my place."
"But you have something else with you," said Death, gesturing towards him, and for the first time Harry noticed that he had in his hand the Elder Wand, on his finger the ring with the Stone, and over his shoulders the Cloak, though the Cloak did not grant him invisibility for he was in a place where nothing is or can be hidden.
"That is just a legend," said Harry. "I am not your Master. None are or can be, except for the Creator."
"Yet, the Creator Himself vested His power into me, and through me into the three," said Death. "And since you have the three by the will of the Creator, it is Him that grants you a choice, not me."
"The dead do not choose," said Harry with a frown.
"You are dead because your earthly body is gone. You have yet to pass on," said Death. "If you choose to pass on, surrender the three and I will take you with me."
He knew instantly in his heart that he would never choose to go ahead. Not when he had a clear and perfect understanding of how disappointing his life had been. Or how much better he could have made it. He didn't want to face his parents that way, for them to see how they had given their lives for something so… average.
"One caveat," continued Death, "is that you will take back whatever memories you had the moment you died, so meeting Daphne Greengrass at the station will not necessarily be the best choice. She might not even be the best partner for you any more..."
"But you said it was Written," interjected Harry.
"It is Written that you will marry her," said Death with a frown, "not that you will be happy with her. If you want to be happy, you'll have to put in the work, Harry Potter. But remember this: you are not being sent back to be happy. You're being sent back to be a force for good in the world, to stand for what is right and for the oppressed against the oppressor. If you only care to be happy, you can choose to move on and be with your parents and godfather. Think, Harry Potter, and decide. Do you think you can do better?"
"I can," said Harry with confidence. Death nodded in approval. "And I think I know when I want to go back to.I have one question though - my godfather, is he happy wherever he is?"
"He is with your parents," answered Death, "and he doesn't regret a single thing - none of the thirteen years in Azkaban, not a single rat he ate, nor his death at the hands of his cousin. For every injustice against him, for every sacrifice he made for you, he was rewarded many times over."
It was as if a great weight had been lifted off of Harry's shoulders.
"Very well then, I am ready."
"Come, then, my friend," Death put an arm around him and the world exploded in a flash of light.
AN: I know this is a very generic start, but I'm hoping that going back to Sixth Year instead of first will let me avoid the stations of canon and tell an actually interesting story. Throw me a review/follow and stay tuned!