I own nothing
spells
Parseltongue
thoughts
Sitting in his hoverchair atop the Astronomy tower, Headmaster Harry Potter looked out across the grounds of Hogwarts and watched as the sun set over the mountains on the other side of Black Lake.
He heard a slight cough from behind and a voice he knew so well, "Headmaster? The train will be arriving soon."
The Hogwarts Express, now a sleek crimson-colored 'maglev' - magical levitation - train shot along so fast that the train ride now only took a little over three hours to make its journey from New Kings Cross Station to Hogsmeade.
"Thank you, Gwen," Harry said.
Harry turned his chair to look at the lined face of his deputy, Professor Gwendolyn Zabini, née Potter. 'How much she looks like her late mother, Tracy,' he thought with a mental sigh.
"I shall be down shortly," he said. "I wish to see the train arrive."
'Yes, Headmaster," replied Gwen, looking back. You're a good man, grandfather, "she thought while heading to the Great Hall to greet the children.
Though a nasty curse to the back had robbed him of the use of his legs during his Unspeakable days, Harry never let it bother him too much. He sighed once, grumbled a bit, and got to work on developing a 'wheelchair' that could hover, was powered off the user's inherent magic, and could be moved by little more than intent alone. It was the most current advanced version of that, now developed by Potter Enchantments' RD section, that he sat upon this night.
Gwen looked over and saw, no matter the Headmaster's advanced age, he still sat with his back straight and proud; his hair, still messy, but now completely white; clean-shaven - because, Daphne preferred him that way; and, wearing frameless and armless spectacles for his far-sightedness, affixed to his face only by the bridge of his nose and the use of microscopic runes.
"Have I told you lately how much you mean to me?" he asked her.
With a fond smile, the old witch replied, "Always, Headmaster. Always."
"Good," he said. "One can never be told enough how much their service is appreciated."
Gwen made a slight bow, before she turned and descended the stairs back into the castle. At the bottom, she turned back, smiled fondly at where she knew the Headmaster's chair to be, and said to herself, "You're such a good man, Grandpa"
He sat there and watched the train for a few moments, just as students started to alight from its carriages. He felt his chair hit softly against the ground. "Hmm," he hummed. "It took you long enough," he said to the figure behind him. The figure was 8 feet tall and wore a black cloak, missing a piece over its left arm. A skeleton face stared at him.
"Are you ready?" The cloaked figure asked.
He turned his head and took one last look at the students' disembarking. He thought about his life leading up to this point. After the war with Voldemort, his followers had scattered. The ministry was in shambles, making it a daunting task to round up the remaining Death eaters.
While he wanted to leave the cleaning up to Shackbolt, he was reminded about what happened after the last war. So he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. With the Elder wand he had kept, the first thing he did was release all the halfblood and muggle born prisoners, Voldemort and his followers had imprisoned in Azkaban.
Especially after he had listened to what the so-called elite of society had done to the muggle-borns. Most of the women had been raped, and the men had been forced to watch what was done to their families. Everyone they arrested was interrogated with Veritaserum.
Those who had helped the Death Eaters had their assets seized and redistributed to the victims. The goblins tried to protest, but when he went to Gringotts with the Sword of Griffindor and his magic flaring around him like a cloak, they were quick to fall in line. Turns out goblins had survival instincts, too. He struck a deal with them in exchange for their help so they could keep all the goblin-made artifacts found in the vaults they seized. This deal earned him their reluctant cooperation.
While he was dealing with the goblins, a group of purebloods had come together to push their agenda to disrupt the remodeling of the wizarding world. In a show of ruthlessness that surprised his own allies, he had them all arrested and thrown in Azkaban. Their homes were put under siege, their fortunes turned over by the goblins. He used the influx of money to fund the rebuilding of the ministry.
After two years, he finally finished. He had received help from an unlikely source. A faction of pureblood had remained neutral during the war. They were led by Lord Erik Greengrass.
He would only help if Harry agreed to marry his daughter Daphne Greengrass. He wanted his daughter to marry the leader of magical Britain. He also wanted a say in educational reforms. According to him, the cultural heritage of magical Britain was under attack by muggleborns and half-bloods, who were never taught the traditions of magical Britain.
They wanted to make the wizarding world a copy of the muggle world. While he was skeptical of Lord Greengrass, they talked in depth about his concerns. Erik offered a fresh perspective on the pureblood cause, one he did not care about blood status. What he cared about was the cultural heritage and the traditions of magical Britain.
He was all for integrating half-bloods and muggle-borns. After taking all this into account, Harry agreed to the deal. While the marriage may have been political, Harry and Daphne both agreed to try and make it work between them, and neither of them wanted a loveless marriage. The last two years had jaded him; he was no longer the reckless and naive Gryffindor he once was.
Magical Britain needed peace and stability for the next 40 years he ruled Britan with an iron fist, he smashed the previous administration, and established a system of meritocracy to support the ministry. During his four-decade rule, he expanded the wards surrounding magical Britain. He had a gut feeling that something bad was coming. Fortunately, it remained just a feeling during his reign.
After four decades, he retired, preferring civilian life to one of constant politics. Erik tried to persuade him to stay, but Daphne talked him out of it. She much preferred him home now that they had children to raise. After a few years of married life, Daphne and Harry had fallen in love, and she wanted him all to herself and her children. With his retirement, he concentrated on completing his NEWTS that he had abandoned in his pursuit of rebuilding magical Britain. He did not attend Hogwarts again but sat them independently.
With his education finally over, he planned to write a book on defensive magic, but the Department of Mysteries offered him a position. He was going to decline, but Daphne convinced him to accept it to further his magical knowledge. Those were the best days of his life: during the day, he researched obscure magic in the Department of Mysteries, and at night, he returned to his family.
Unfortunately, these days will not last.
His instincts had been right. Something bad had happened in the muggle world with the aid of advanced technology. The muggles had discovered the wizarding world.
By the year 2038, the muggle governments acknowledged the magical governments around the world. There were equal parts of fear and curiosity among the muggle population. The dilution of Greek influence through Christianity and the separation of church and state made sure there was a benign reaction to discovering that magic was real. The ICW was surprised and relieved at the lack of honor killings and being burned at the stake and decided to work with the UN.
This decision led to the Free-Trade Pact.
The ICW reached the decision that individual magical communities had the right to decide if they would interact with their muggle counterparts. While Western Europe increased collaboration between the magical and muggle governments, the Middle East, Eastern Europe, and the Americas closed their borders with harsh wards. It was during this upheaval that his beloved wife Daphne passed away. After her passing, he made sure that his grandchildren and great-grandchildren were as prepared for the world as he could make them. He left the Potter lordship to his oldest and placed the elder wand in her coffin. He picked up his holley and phoenix feather wand. He no longer needed the power the elder wand provided him.
Then he went on a 50-year journey across the known world, visiting faraway places and learning whatever caught his interest. It was during his travels that he saw the damage the muggles were doing to the planet. In their bid to conquer it, they bred like rats, exhausting the planet's natural resources while polluting what was left. Eventually, the muggle governments began to fight over basic resources like water.
As cities expanded, they used up more water. The coasts were no longer safe as the sea levels began to rise, and massive storms decimated cities, but the muggles never learned. They refused to give up their polluting ways and began to demand that the wizarding world ignore them. The magical governments were adamant to ignore them.
When war inevitably broke out, the wizarding world was determined to stay out of it. The war started with Ukraine and Russia but evolved to muggle vs. wizards after a few months. Spurred on by lack of resources, racism, and a need for a new world order, Riddle's daughter showed herself to be just as mad as her father. She attacked his great-grandchildren while they were taking his great-great-grandchildren shopping for their first year at Hogwarts.
Killing them and displaying their bodies in a gruesome display. Claiming that now was the time to attack the muggle filth when they were weak and fighting among themselves. Gathering followers and starting to attack muggle cities. When word finally reached him about what had happened.
The rage he felt was all-consuming. He returned to Britain to find that she had managed to gather more followers than her father, promising to conquer the muggles. He once again picked up the elder wand and showed the magical world why he was the man who conquered.
To call what he did a battle was putting it mildly. In one attack, he slaughtered Delphine and her followers. Their screams lasted for hours before he was satisfied. After the battle, he discovered that his grandchildren had managed to hide one of his infant great-great-grandchildren in an empty store. This was the opening the muggles were waiting for. Muggle Britain attacked the magical world.
In short order, other countries started to get involved. The war dragged on for decades. He stepped forward to lead the magicals in the war, trying to protect his last remaining great-great-grandchild. Using guerrilla tactics, he was starting to slowly lead the magicals to victory. Sirius, his great-great-grandchild, had known nothing but the war.
Though he had married and had children of his own before the war finished and his children had children, but during the course of the war, the planet had destabilized in ways he had never thought possible. The muggles desperate not to lose the war, unleashed their nukes. Nuclear weapons had put large parts of the planet in nuclear winter, with massive storms accelerating the destruction of the planet.
Even magic had begun to disappear. His magical abilities only remained because of the combination of Phoenix tears and Basilisk venom in his blood. With the approaching cataclysm, his time was running out, and he was no closer to an answer on how to save the planet. Even after his travels, he had no answer on how to save the planet, and then he had an idea. If the living don't have the answer, then maybe the dead will.
Even after all these years, he still remembered where to go. As he passed the remains of Hogwarts, he still felt that familiar feeling of coming home. As he reminisced on the years he spent here, his feet took him to the same clearing, where he had summoned the spirits of his parents and godfather before facing Voldemort. A quick summoning charm brought the resurrection stone to his hand, which brought memories both bitter and sweet to mind as he turned it over three times.
He had no one in mind while turning the stone just for someone to answer who could help. Looking around, he saw nobody, his shoulders slumped, turning around to leave, he saw a cloaked figure standing behind him. The figure had no need to introduce itself. He already knew who it was; he had seen the figure multiple times in his life after all. "Death to what do I own the pleasure."
"You called for someone with the answers to save this world. I have those answers."
"What do you want in return?" Harry asked.
"Nothing right now. Just a favor sometime in the future." Death said soothingly. He shouldn't take the deal. It was a bad one, but he was desperate.
"Fine. I agree." He said. The second the last word left his mouth. He felt knowledge of a ritual flood his mind of how to save the planet and the magicals. He apparated to his house and rushed to enter his trunk.
After gathering all the materials he needed to conduct the ritual to save the planet, He exited the trunk and headed to the door. Just before he walked out the door, he stopped and looked back at a silvery cloak and thought. "Why not I already have the other two. It's fitting the master of death, saving the planet from dying."
As he walked over and put the cloak on, he collected the trunk and shrunk it. He placed the trunk in the mole skin pouch he received from Hagrid all those years ago. He looked around one last time and Apparated to Stonehenge with witches and wizards from every nation gathered to help with the ritual. In swift order, the roles were chosen, and the ingredients were in their proper places.
When the full moon reached its peak, the ritual started chanting in the language that death had transferred to him. The stones surrounding them started to glow, and the magical energy was almost a physical force pressing down on everyone. At the end of the ritual, the magical energy rippled over the planet slowly, starting to repair the damage done to it by the war. Magic slowly starting to return and the planet was repaired.
After the ritual, he headed back to Potter Manor and spent the next few years rebuilding the magical world while looking after his last great-great-great-grandson. Eventually, the Unspeakables convinced him to join them. He spent a few years with them developing magical devices to help the world recover. He took a dark curse in the back from another dark lord wannabe, trying to make a name for themselves.
After he killed them and developed his wheelchair, he retired from the Unspeakables. Once his last great-great-great-great-grandchild, Charles, started his first year at Hogwarts, he applied for the Defense position he was accepted with in minutes of his application reaching McGonagall.
He quickly removed the curse on the position and settled in. By the time Charles had graduated, he had brought the lagging defense class back to being the best in the world. He was promoted to deputy headmaster. Rediscovering his love for teaching, he spent the next twelve years happy in his position until his great-grandchild Harrion.
Named after his 5x great-grandfather, he started his Hogwarts years. McGonagall eventually stepped down and promoted him to Headmaster. Before she retired to the countryside to live in peace for the rest of her days. During his time as Headmaster, he had the castle completely renovated. He also repaired all the damage from the war. After the castle was completely restored, he started on the classes, bringing them back up to standard. Then he started making them better, bringing Hogwarts back to the best magical school in the world.
When Harrion graduated, he passed the cloak to him. He had offered it to Charles, but he did not want it. Harrion was ecstatic to receive the cloak. He promptly used it to run wild in the castle until he graduated. Harry remained headmaster for the next few decades, watching generations of Potters come through, all of them calling him grandfather or grandpa. His 38th grandchild Gwendolyn was very different from her father. She reminded him of Hermione with her studying habits. Her studying and talent for magic saw her go far in her chosen career. Before she retired and became his deputy when she had a child.
"Come to think of it, her first grandchild should be starting this year." He thought, watching as the children disembarked the train. "Yeah, I'm ready. I had a good life."
"Good, it's time to fulfill your end of the deal." Death said.
"Really, I thought you had forgotten about it. It was almost 800 years ago now." Harry said.
"I thought you should spend some time with your family in peace, but I confess I didn't expect you to live for so long." Death admitted.
"Hahaha. I didn't expect to live so long, either. 912 years is a long time. I expected to die 600 years ago." Harry said while laughing.
"You surprised me living this long. The ritual had some side effects, apparently." Death said calmly.
"Perhaps." Harry hummed. "I enjoyed the extra time, though, watching my family grow and succeed in their careers. I wish I could have seen Gwen's grandchild, though." He said sadly. Death walked up beside him and pointed with a skeletal hand to a tiny figure talking and laughing with others around her. "That's her?"
"Yes, it is. She will have a good life, find a good man, and have wonderful children." Death said with his eye sockets softly glowing red.
Harry zoomed in using a feature of his glasses. "She looks like Daphne." He breathed.
"She will live happily until her natural death." Death said.
"Good, I'm glad to hear that." Harry said, releaved and stood up, taking a half step forward. Nothing hurt, now. No aches or pains.
He turned around and saw his body sitting in the chair; his eyes were closed, and he had a silly half-crooked smile on his lips.
"Minister Black is going to be most put out. I chose today to up and die on her. She was supposed to be heading for that ICW conference for Heads of Government in Nice in three days." Harry sighed.
He turned his head and took one last look at the students as they disembarked.
"She will survive." Death said with a light chuckle. "So I ask again, are you ready?" Death asked. While holding out his skeletal hand, Harry grabbed it with no hesitation.
"Yes, I am. Take me to the next great adventure." Death chuckled.
"It will be an adventure, that's for sure. The favor will include heading to a place called Alagaesia."
"Really sounds fun. I hope Daphne won't be too mad at me when I get there." Harry said, slightly worried.
"She will understand." Was Deaths response.
"That's good to hear," Harry said, looking around seeing a familiar white landscape. "Kingscross, huh? Fitting, I suppose, for what is going to happen. So why am I going to this Alagaesia place?" Harry asked.
"There is a man there called Galbatorix who has slaughtered the peacekeepers. Known as dragon riders." Death started.
"Wait, they ride dragons are they crazy or suicidal?!" Harry asked alarmed.
"Neither the dragon riders have a bond with their dragons as a result of magic." Death explained.
"Really?" Harry asked skeptical.
"Yes, it's a result of a spell that the elves cast at the end of their war with the dragons." Was Death's answer.
"Huh, that's cool." Harry said, astonished.
"Yes," Death smiled, amused. "Galbatorix has the last three dragon eggs in his possession. One of the eggs was stolen, and the carrier is going to be ambushed and killed. You are going there to stop that from happening." Death continued.
"Ok, what about this Galbatorix person?" Harry questioned.
"There is already someone that destiny has picked to defeat him." Death replied.
"If there is already someone there, then why are you sending me?" Harry asked, confused.
"In this timeline, something has changed. In the correct timeline, the egg carrier was ambushed, but she managed to send the egg to safety. As a result, she was kept alive to find out where she sent it. In this timeline, Galbatorix has created another shade to help capture the egg and kill the guards. You are going there to make sure the egg reaches where it needs to go." Death explained. "What happens after that is up to you. Any questions?" Death asked.
"What's a shade?" Harry asked.
"A shade is a sorcerer who summoned spirits in an attempt to control them form some purpose most often power but failed and the spirits possessed them. The result is a being who is far stronger magically and physically than a normal human. Easily capable of matching elves in a fair fight." Death explained. "Do you have any more questions?"
"Not at the moment." Harry replied.
"Good now, what wand do you want to take with you?" Death questioned.
"My holly wand." Harry chose after thinking awhile.
"Good choice, in that case. I will merge the power from the elder wand with your core, giving you a power boost. Do you want the cloak?"
"No, I passed it down, let my family keep it." Harry denied.
"Very well but it will make your task more difficult." Death warned.
"That's fine. A little difficulty will keep things interesting." Harry assured.
"The resurrection stones' power will allow you to pass through the barrier separating the dimensions. What about your body?" Death questioned.
"What about my body?" Harry asked, surprised.
"You died on Earth as a result you are a spirit you will need a body to interact with the people in Alegasia and complete your task." Death explained.
"Can I have my old body back?" Harry asked hopefully.
"No." Death immediately denied.
"Fine, what are my choices?" Harry sulked.
Producing a list from his cloak, Death handed it to Harry and said, "Choose from these. When you have chosen, Life will craft you a new body." Looking through the list, Harry saw hundreds of names he thought aloud.
"I just need a body that will allow me to cast magic." Immediately, the list began to shuffle, and names began to disappear before it settled down. "Wicked," he whispered. "I need a body that will most help bridge the gap between humans and those stronger than them." The list shuffled again before settling with fewer names.
"The body must be able to hold my core at full power and not explode if I get stronger." Once again, the list shuffled and shortened the names available. "What about one that will bond with my wand?" The list shuffled until only five names were left.
Stark
Targaryen
Blackfyre
Baratheon
Greystark
"I don't recognize these names on the list." Harry said, handing the list back to death. Looking at the list, death gave off a feeling of surprise.
"I never expected you to match these. They are from a different world than the one you are going to. The Starks are called the winter kings and said to have ice in their blood. They have old magic in their blood."
"The Greystarks are an offshoot of the Starks. Said to be as fierce as winter. The Targaryens are a dragon-riding house from a different dimension. Through a ritual, they gained dragon blood running through their veins. The Blackfyres are an offshoot of the Targaryens; they too are dragon riders."
"Really dragons' blood?" Harry asked.
"No, what they call dragons is just a wyvern mixed with a fire wyrm. Through blood magic and a sacrificial ritual. That said, it's an easy fix if you know what you're doing." Death assured.
"The Baratheons are related to the Targaryens and were once called the Storm Kings. They are known for their battle powers and bad luck."
"Are any of these names still around? I don't want to feel like I'm stealing something." Harry asked.
"The Starks, Baratheons, and Targaryens are still around." Death replied.
"I see. Can I choose more than one?" Harry questioned.
"Yes, however, you will have to live with your choices for the rest of your life." Was Death's answer.
"Then, can I see an example of the Greystarks and Blackfyres?" Harry asked with confidence.
Death waved his hand, and two spectral people appeared. The first had long black hair and a full beard with grey eyes and a long face. The second had long silver blond hair with purple eyes and handsome features. "The Greystarks are an extinct branch house of house Stark. They have The Stark magic running in their veins. Though like all families it expresses differently than the Starks." Looking at both critically, Harry didn't like one more than the other.
"The Blackfyres are an extinct branch house of house Targaryen. House Targaryen is fond of marrying brother to sister to keep the bloodline pure. However, house Blackfyre is far enough removed that they don't have as many problems as the Targaryens do." Death explained.
"I can't decide." Harry said, still looking at both forms critically.
"Hmm," Death waved his hand, and the spectral forms merged and swirled around until they eventually settled into one figure. The smoke slowly cleared away.
Showing a body with ebony black hair and eyes the color of amethysts, the face was a perfect blend of the two previous people. With high cheekbones and a narrow jaw making it look like he was a high-class pureblood from Earth. The body was 6'5" and broad-shouldered. "Wow, that's something else," Harry exclaimed.
"The Blackfyres are an extinct branch house of house Targaryen. House Greystark is an extinct branch house of house Stark. These bloodline combine to form the body best matching your criteria." Death explaned looking over the spectral body.
"Good, then I choose this one." Harry decided.
"Well, I was always told that I had my mother's eyes. Harry said thoughtfully.
"Ok then a Greystark father and a Blackfyre mother." Death clarified.
"That sounds good." Harry said.
"Great then, when you're ready, just board the train. Your new body will be ready when you arrive." Death said, fading away. Harry heard a train horn in the distance, coming closer.
"Well, this is it. It might take a while to come back, but I will be back," he promised himself.
As the train pulled into the station, he boarded it and took a seat, ready to start his adventure. So in the year 2892, Harry Potter, the longest serving minister of magic, leader of the magical world, and most beloved headmaster of Hogwarts, passed away at the age of 912. Setting the record for the longest living wizard. Started on his next adventure.