Author's Note : This is a soft reboot / sequel to the story of the same name, I wrote on another profile.
• 17 Years after the Deaths of all Muggles.
Harry Potter gulped... as his precious little Lily flower, his beloved daughter, brought home a boyfriend.
The boy was nervous, not from meeting the great Harry Potter, but due to wanting to make a good first impression on Lily's parents.
Ginny started cooing over their daughter, and had the gall to congratulate their youngest, on what a handsome catch she found.
"I'm Wally West," The Ginger extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mister Potter."
Harry hesitantly shook it.
"Isn't your dad that mutant," Ginny tapped her chin. "Quick Silver or something?"
Wally blushed, "N-no ma'am. My uncle is The Flash. He's got a bit of a rivalry with Quick Silver, actually."
Great, Flash was a known Meta-Human... the papers were going to love this. It was scandalous enough, dating a mutant. However, Harry wouldn't dampen his daughter's joy. Nor did he have any issues with inter species couples, himself... but the paper was a terrifying thing. Although that wasn't Harry's greatest concern.
The man looked in his early 30s... which was actually a few decades younger then Lily. Lily was in her early 80s... despite barely looking 30.
It might not be a big deal now... but Wizards lived decades past 300 years. Luna didn't realize what she was getting into... dating someone that aged at a muggle rate. While Harry, for his daughter's sake... hoped it didn't work out.
He tried to subtly point out the age difference. "You must have barely been a teenager, on Judgement Day."
The boy sighed, "Yeah, I was 15 at the time. Been doing the hero thing, with Uncle Barry, for a couple years. I actually recreated the formula, that gave him his powers, when l was 12. But it took a year of training, before Uncle Barry let me go on patrol with him. And he only did that, because he caught me trying to stop his rogue's from robbing a bank."
The boy laughed. "I got my ass kicked by the rogues, then skinned by my mother. She then convinced Barry to start taking me on patrol. So he'd be with me, and could set up rules and restrictions."
Harry frowned. Sure, he'd been younger, when he started his own hero career, but that hardly had been by choice.
• 3 Years Later.
Wally was dressed in his finest. Looking almost eager to ask. "I know how old school you magicals can be. So I wanted to make sure it's okay with you . . ." he paused to take a breath. "I want to marry Lily."
Harry sighed, fearing this day, and feeling all his 120 plus years. He might not look it... and that was entirely the point. He was over a hundred years old, and still looked in his prime. "No."
Wally gaped, "No?"
"No, I will not give you my blessing." Harry informed. Wally looked shocked. But before that could turn to rage, as Harry knew red heads were prone to do, Harry explained. "Magicals have an average life expectancy of 357... would you doom my daughter to spend over 200 years of her lifespan, mourning your death. Because she would. The Wizarding marriage ceremony would imprint you on each others' souls. She would feel your loss more deeply, then you can comprehend... and stay in that state for most of her lifespan. Do you understand? she will grieve longer then she will know you."
Wally glared at the floor, "She's the one that asked me..."
"... and if you have any kind of decency, you'll call it off."
"Father!" Lily suddenly burst into the room... apparently listening the whole time. "This is OUR decision. Wally was informing you, not seeking your blessing. But regardless how you feel about the decision. We are getting married!!! We will have a magical ceremony. AND YOU WILL GIVE ME AWAY WITH A SMILE ON YOUR FACE!!!"
Harry flinched, "Yes dear." She really could be as scary as her grandmother, when she wanted to be.
• 20 Years Later.
Harry... came to the realization... he was aging slower then even Wizards could comprehend... he just recently realized, he hadn't actually aged a day since he was 17.
Harry was shaking, staring at all three Deathly Hallows. And fighting a strong urge to pull out his hair.
"I don't get it!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. "I've snapped them in half, bloody burned them to nothing. By Merlin, I even just locked them in my vault. But somehow, in some way, they always find their way back to me. Doesn't matter what I do to them, or where I put them. They are bloody stalking me!!!"
Ollivander, the famous wand maker, looked over at the most powerful instruments ever known to wizarding kind. The Cloak of invisibility, capable of hiding from death herself. The Stone of Resurrection, allowing for communication with any spirit. Even the ones trapped in the land of the dead. Then there was the Elder Wand. Wands being Ollivander's speciality. With this one being quite literally the most powerful in the world.
Ollivander picked up the wand and held it to his ear, knowing how to listen to it's desires. The wand chooses the wizard. Well not self aware, there was an echo of intelligence to them, and Ollivander was shocked to hear what this wand had to say.
Putting it down, Ollivander looked at the young man before him. Still looking very much a boy, and decided to take it on himself to educate the lad.
"Do you know the Origins of wizarding kind?" Ollivander asked. Finding himself almost laughing as the child's shoulders slumped. Although he was too polite to tell the old man he just wanted to know why these things were stalking him. "Don't worry, it's relevant."
Harry sighed, "No Sir. They hadn't covered that at Hogwarts."
Ollivander sighed back. 300 years ago, when he was in school, it was a matter of pride that young wizards and witches were taught their legends.
"It's an ancient myth. Going back further then recorded history." Ollivander explained. "It's said wizarding kind came into existence, as a result of gods taking human lovers. Now we are by no means demigods. Our blood is far too diluted for that, but it does explain why some families hold certain talents others don't... Such as the ability to command serpents."
Harry frowned. Dumbledore had thought it was Voldemort's influence that gave him that power... but Harry had never lost the talent. It stayed long after the connection was severed.
"Or how the Ollivanders have always had a feel for magic.
"It's said that sometimes gods still reach out to us. Sending out powerful artifacts to test potential Champions. Who are then chosen as muses, or rather 'Avatars', of their god."
Harry gulped, not liking were this was going.
"The Deathly Hallows are said to be similar objects. Created by a much more picky god. Designed to find his champion." Ollivander watched the boy shake his head. Clearly not wanting to hear it, but the old man knew he had to. "It seems, they found their muse."
• Two Years Later:
As the years went by, Harry slowly learned more and more about his new powers as an "Avatar of Death." Particularly on the day he died. Which turned out to be a minor inconvenience. That was the day, he met his god.
Harry groaned, more on reflex then pain. Waking up in a familiar place. It was king's cross... only cleaner, brighter, and A LOT emptier.
He was here, again, just like the last time he died. This newest incident, had not been do to a deranged wizard, but rather... an accident, not even potions related. He had crashed his car, swerving out of the way of a squirrel. Such a mundane way for the hero of the Wizarding World to die... so normal...
He shuddered at the thought, never liking that word. His abusive relatives obsession with normality, had killed any desire for such a lifestyle.
Looking around, he spotted the same phantom of Dumbledore... only this time, he knew better.
Harry frowned at the old bat. "You're not Dumbledore," the boy stated, standing up from his spot on the floor.
The-old-sage-impostor raised an eyebrow, "Am I not, how strange." His eyes certainly twinkled like Dumbledore's... but something about the man felt... comforting. Comforting in a true way, not like Dumbledore's manipulations.
Looking around, this whole place felt comforting... like he was returning home.
Bringing his eyes to the fake Dumbledore. Harry spoke the theory he'd been building since he met him. "You're Death," he acknowledged more then asked.
"Aren't you a quick one," Death smiled kindly. "It usually takes the third or fourth time meeting me, before my Avatars make that connection."
"I had help," Thinking of Ollivander. Harry sighed, "Sorry I wasn't much of a champion." Well not aware, it wasn't exactly true. He had been a fine champion. Fighting the good fight, as a freelance problem solver.
Regardless, Death continued to smile. "You still can be, if that's what you desire."
"Like in some undead army, you mean?" Harry frowned. "I've been a Soldier for far too long, from far too young, to want to continue."
Death shook his head. "Nothing so cliche," Death full out laughed at his expression. Although it was a short lived laugh, it made Harry feel warm. Like spending time with his-
A thought just occurred to him, "What about my wife?"
"If you're so concerned," smiled Death. "You can always go back to them."
Harry gaped, "You mean, I can just go back to my body, good as new?"
"Being my Muse comes with certain benefits," Death shrugged.
Harry frowned. "I... haven't really been aging..." he acknowledged. He still looked 17. Ever since the first time he discarded the Hallows.
"One of the perks is getting to choose when you enter my domain." Death smiled.
Harry continued to frown, "So I can just... go home. No harm, no foul... and no permanent injury or coma."
Death just gave a single firm nod. That's when Harry realized, he was no longer talking to Dumbledore. When did THAT happen?
In front of Harry was a tall man, standing at over 7 feet. Dressed in black and grey robes, made of living shadows and... the souls of the worst dead. He had blue skin, sharp teeth... and hair made of blue fire.
"I... don't think I'm ready to come with you," Harry acknowledged.
Death just smiled, "Unfortunate, but I will be here when you're ready."
Harry gave a hesitant nod, "But before I go... I have some questions."
Death shrugged, "Ask away."
Harry suddenly forgot all his questions. Shaking his head, he forced himself to ask something. "What's your name?" then blushed... for some reason.
However, that seemed to be the right question. Death's face brightened happily. "I'm a Hades," He informed. Causing Harry to pause. He had said "A", implying there was more then one. It was a title, not a name.
Regardless, Harry nodded, accepting this. There was power in names, especially for higher beings. "I'm Harry Potter." he gave his freely. Showing trust to the death god.
Hades smile grew even more pleased, "I'm aware."
Harry squirmed. "Why Me? Why did you choose me?"
Hades shrugged, "I don't cause death, rather I fulfill a role in the cosmos. Otherwise, the mortal lands would get overwhelmed by the dead.
"You aren't the only champion I've called to help me with this. I have others, scattered across the world. But what sets each of you apart from the masses, is your lack of fear, of me. You don't want to die, but nor are you scared when your time comes. You are given the option to wield the power of gods, and reject it. And lastly, you see a glimpse into my afterlife... and it does not drive you mad.
"You proved you could not only handle the role as my champion, but that you would never think to abuse that privilege."
Harry's frown now felt permanent. That was basically confirming what Ollivander said.
"Why don't I volunteer some information," Hades smiled at his Avatar. The boy was too nervous to think straight. Not out of fear, but rather it came from awkwardness.
"I am a 'Shinigami', a lower god of Death. Me, and the others, guide our Reapers across the planet. Whom collect souls for us... I have quite the collection of them, working for me. Think of them as Cosmic House Elves. Creatures that feed off my magic, through a Psychic link, in exchange for gathering souls to me. The more souls I gain, the more Reapers I can support."
"They're a different entity then you. Although they, too, started as mortals... just as I did. As a champion, you'll get reincarnated a whole bunch, until you get promoted to god tier.
"Until then, you will be acting as my will in the mortal verse. Stopping the occasional apocalypse, but mostly vanquishing the more dangerous undead, such as Tom Riddle."
Harry waved off, "I do that anyway."
"I'm aware," Hades smiled. "Most of my Avatars don't start hunting liches, until after this conversation."
Harry shrugged.
"Or they get overzealous, and kill any form of undead they come across." Hades frowned. "Then are shocked when I tell them I don't approve. Some people achieve immortality, through my will. As they are other types of champions. Not quite Avatars, but they fall within my domain. I only want you lot to destroy evil undead. Which I'm pleased you seem to understand the difference, without needing to be told."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I've met a few Vampires, ghost, and even ghouls. Not even a 10th of them are evil."
"To which I'm eternally thankful, you realize.
"As my mortal Champion, your purpose is to act where I can't. I'm limited by Cosmic restrictions, you see. But you? You can do things unrestricted by Cosmic bureaucracy. I can even help you, to an extent, but for the most part, you're doing your own thing."