"Talking/Dialogue"
"Special Dialogue"
"Special Dialogue"
Thoughts/Spells
'Quotes'
Writing/Text
Prologue
Forbidden Forest
Saturday
May 2nd, 1998
Harry was afraid.
His body was beginning to tremble violently, his heart pounding against his chest, the rhythmic beats ringing in his ears. The sound was deafening in the quiet forest, heightening the terror of his inescapable fate.
Harry had faced mortal peril from his first year at Hogwarts and every year after. Professors, dark creatures, and deadly tournaments, he had stood defiantly against them, his resolve never breaking. Death had been flirted and danced with. Year after year, and time after time, Harry had incited it to claim his soul, only to leave it empty-handed as he prevailed against overwhelming odds.
But not anymore. Harry thought, his composure deteriorating with every step forward he took. There was no way out of this. There was no chance of escape, and that terrified him.
"We're here for you, Harry" His mother's sweet, angelic voice saved him from falling into despair. An ethereal hand brushed against his trembling body, the closest semblance of a comforting touch she could provide.
It was more than enough.
He looked back in gratitude, the sight of her smiling face and the others strengthening his resolve.
Harry grasped the stone tightly, feeling gratefulness at its powers but sparing no thought to the numbness that spread across his hand as he did so. Nor did he spare a single thought at the increasing chill that enveloped his body under the cloak, growing colder with every step.
Voices sounded out from behind a nearby tree, the figures of Yaxley and Dolohov emerging soon after. Harry listened to the conversation between the pair before trailing after him once they departed, confident they would lead him to where he needed to go.
His decision to follow the pair of Death Eaters proved to be correct as they arrived at a clearing. A fire burned in the middle of it, the crackling of its flames the only sound in the noiseless area.
The rest of the Death Eaters were scattered around the clearing, but Harry's sole attention was on Voldemort, who was standing silently in the middle of the clearing with his eyes closed.
Harry found his eyes inexplicably drawn to the Elder Wand that hung loosely in his pale hand before looking back towards the snake-like face of the Dark Lord, missing the faint, almost non-existent pale blue glow that emanated from the wand.
"I thought he would come…" Voldemort said.
A shiver ran down his spine as he grasped the Invisibility Cloak with trembling hands before pulling it off and placing it inside his robes and his wand.
"I was, it seems...mistaken," Voldemort hissed in disappointment.
"You weren't," Harry said in the bravest voice he could muster, the Resurrection Stone slipping from his numb fingers as he stepped into the clearing, the spirits of his parents, Sirius, and Remus vanishing into the air.
His appearance drew shocked gasps and disbelieving yells from the gathered Death Eaters, which Harry ignored. Their presence seemed to fade away as emerald eyes glared at Voldemort, who wore a small look of surprise on his face before it was replaced by vindication.
"HARRY?! NO! WHAT'RE YEH—"
Harry turned at the sound of Hagrid's desperate and anguished words, a pang of guilt hitting him as he realized that the half-giant who had introduced him to the wizardry world would have to witness his death.
I'm sorry, Hagrid.
He turned back to face Voldemort, who stood there with an air of superiority. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the frazzled and erratic figure of Bellatrix, who looked between the pair of them with sick pleasure in her eyes, her chest heaving in anticipation of what was to come.
Still, Harry kept his eyes on the red eyes of the Dark Lord in front of him, not even sparing a glance at Nagini, who lurked by the bushes. The snake would be the final Horcrux remaining, but it would be up to his friends to destroy it.
"Harry Potter," Voldemort spoke again, silence descending upon the clearing at his voice. There was a stillness in the air as if all had stopped to bear witness to his final moments. "The Boy Who Lived…come to die."
Harry's mind yelled at him. Self-preservation screamed in a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable before it was hushed as the Elder Wand was raised in his direction. The tip began to glow with the unforgivable that would rob him of his life, and Harry braced himself to receive it.
And then he greeted Death as an old friend…
A flash of green light enveloped Harry's vision, and then everything went dark.
Light shining upon his face roused Harry from his slumber, his eyes slowly peeling open before gazing up into the foggy sky. Confusion slowly ebbed away, and with it came the realization of the fate that had befallen him.
"I'm dead," Harry whispered before standing up. He took in his surroundings, tilting his head in puzzlement once he realized he was standing in the same clearing in the Forbidden Forest.
For a brief moment, he entertained the thought of having survived the killing curse for a second time, but he discarded that idea instantly. Harry knew with certainty that his soul had been ripped from the land of living. It had been quick, and it had been painless.
"Quicker than falling asleep, Sirius said…could have mentioned something about this, though."
Not knowing what else to do, Harry started heading in the direction of Hogwarts, relying on his knowledge of the forest layout to guide him through the thick fog.
Before long, he began to see the silhouettes of the towers slowly unraveling themselves from the fog, a frown settling upon Harry's face as he recalled what had happened during the night.
He remembered, quite vividly, the deplorable state the castle had been in during the battle. Walls had been cracked and charred, with their debris being blown all across the school grounds. Destructive spells had torn the various rooftops apart, leaving behind gaping holes in their wake. Even the towers that reached high up into the sky failed to escape unscathed, large chunks of them missing from their frame or, in one case, having completely collapsed.
It had tugged at his heart to see Hogwarts, the place he had considered home, in such a state. That feeling resurfaced inside of him as he walked out of the Forbidden Forest and saw Hogwarts. Not even the fog could hide the damage it had sustained.
"It looks even worse during the day…" Harry muttered softly as he arrived at the outskirts before slowly crossing the bridge toward the barely recognizable courtyard. Stone and rumble had piled on much of the area, and the steps that led inside had almost completely collapsed, and it took some maneuvering on Harry's part to get through.
Indistinct words brushed past his ears the moment he stepped into the hallway, coming from deeper within.
"Hello?" Harry called out as he walked, peering intently down the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything. Another whisper reached him, louder but no clearer than the first.
Harry continued down the castle halls, following the soft murmurs as they began to come more frequently. He was getting closer to the source, and his body tensed in anticipation.
Before long, he arrived at the dining hall entrance, stopping to stare intently at the large doors. A heavy frown marred his face as he noted their impeccable condition, contrasting heavily with the rest of the castle.
Gathering his courage, Harry took a deep breath before pushing them open, only to gaze in confusion a second later as in the center of a completely barren dining hall stood the familiar stone archway of the Veil.
"What's that doing here?" Harry wondered, staring at the fluttering mist-like curtain. Murmurs of those who lay beyond swept past him, their whispered words growing in intensity with every step closer. The temptation to understand drew him nearer before Harry shook his head slightly, snapping the grip the Veil had on his mind.
"Where the hell am I?" Harry wondered out loud, frowning heavily as he looked around the great hall before looking back at the ancient archway. A frustrated sigh left him. "I thought I would be reunited with my parents in the afterlife or something. Not whatever this place is."
As he stared at the Veil, Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, making him tense slightly. Something suddenly and without a hint of warning had just appeared behind him. A sense of unease and foreboding enveloped him, but that didn't stop him from turning around.
A towering, gaunt figure stood before him, its skeletal frame draped in a black cloak that seemed to float around him in an otherworldly wind. The shadows of its hood obscured its face, but Harry could feel the weight of its gaze on him as if judging his worth.
"Harry Potter," The figure said in a harsh and raspy voice, making his skin crawl. Its voice felt…unnatural.
"…What are you?" asked Harry, eyeing it warily. His gut told him that this being floating before him was much more dangerous than anything he had ever encountered. The potent magic that engulfed the hall was enough to put him on edge.
"You know what I am."
Harry tsked in response.
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."
"Then, a reminder is due," The cloaked figure said before under the hood, a pair of eyes pulsed briefly in a pale blue light.
That was all the warning Harry got before cold and lifeless tendrils, looking much like the vines of the Devil's snare, enveloped him. A strangled gasp left his lips as three memories flashed through his head as the voice of Hermione reading 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' echoed through his mind.
'The youngest brother was the humblest and the wisest…he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death.'
The Cloak of Invisibility shimmering in the moonlight as he pulled it off one final time, ready to confront his fate.
'Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, asked for the power to recall others from Death.'
The Resurrection Stone slipping from his hand as he stepped into the clearing, the ethereal figures of Sirius, Remus, and his parents vanishing as they returned to the afterlife.
'So, the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence…a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death.'
Voldemort, pointing the Elder Wand at him during the final moments of his life.
As quickly as it had enveloped him, did the icy tendrils of magic release their grip on his mind before retreating back to their owner. Harry stumbled forward onto his knees at the suddenness, quick and uneven gasps leaving his mouth.
"Now, do you recall?"
Harry responded with a disbelieving chuckle, lifting his head to gaze at the cloaked being in front. It had just dawned upon him. He had felt this magic right before his death, and though it paled in comparison to its source, it was familiar to him all the same.
Harry breathed deeply to calm his nerves before slowly returning to his feet. He stared once more at the cloaked figure that towered over him, recognition now dancing in his emerald eyes.
"Hello…Death," Harry greeted. He still felt unease at the presence before him, but it was diminishing with every passing moment.
The pair stared at one another, silence descending upon them for a moment before Harry decided to break it.
"So, why am I here?" Harry asked, gesturing to the castle walls and then to Death. "I'm assuming you had something to do with me waking up here, but what I want to know is why."
"Because I wished to speak with you. You are a…special wizard, Harry Potter. One that has grabbed my interest."
"I'm flattered. Truly," Harry said dryly. "And what could I have done that deserves your attention? Does it have to do with the Hallows?"
"You are correct," Death said before a single skeletal finger twitched in his direction.
Harry found his eyes drawn to the area before him as three images formed. A wand, a stone, and a cloak floated lazily in empty air between them, perfect imitations of the real objects.
"In the story. The Tale of the Three Brothers," Harry said. "It says you created the Hallows and gave each brother one of them. Is that true?"
Death nodded.
"The Cloak of Invisibility, made from the same one I currently wear, was given to Ignotus Peverall, who, in turn, passed it down to his son."
Harry spoke up, well-versed in his family's history.
"Who had no male heirs to continue the Peverall line but did have a daughter who married into the Potter line. The cloak was passed down each generation until it came into my possession."
"It was one of two objects to be passed down through generations," Death pointed to a ring floating in the middle, and out of it came a small stone. "The other was The Resurrection Stone. This one was in the possession of the Gaunt Family before your Headmaster acquired it. The stone then came into your possession just before your death."
Harry nodded slowly. A gnawing feeling of dread started to grow in the pit of Harry's stomach, like an ominous warning that he was about to learn something significant. The weight of Death's gaze fixated heavily on Harry only made the sensation more prominent.
"Then there is the Elder Wand. The first Hallow I created, and this one with has a long, turbulent history. Many have sought this wand, and the only way to obtain it was through conquest," Death explained to him before listing off names. "Emeric. Egbert. Godelot. Hereward. Barnabas. Loxias. Gregorovitch. Grindelwald. Dumbledore. Malfoy. And finally…you."
Harry's eyes widened in shock before aggressively shaking his head.
"That's not right!" Harry denied. "I never killed anyone for the wand!"
Death only tilted its head in response to his outburst.
"Neither did Malfoy and yet, he gained ownership of the wand."
That stopped any more words of protest from leaving Harry's mouth.
"A lie was born the night Antioch was murdered. That to gain the allegiance of the wand meant killing the owner. No. One simply had to defeat them, whether by way of death or…disarming them."
The memory of a skirmish inside Malfoy Manor flashed through his head, of the moment when he had ripped Draco's wand away from him.
"So, when I took his wand?" Harry asked.
"The magic imbued in the Elder Wand recognized that its current owner had been defeated and switched its loyalties."
A skeletal hand swiped at the images in the air, making them vanish.
"I tell you this because, for the first time in their history, the Hallows are under the command of a single wizard," Death slowly made its way over to Harry, the pale blue orbs pulsating once again under its hood. "You, Harry Potter, have obtained the title of 'Master of Death'."
Harry could only stare at the looming figure in stunned silence before a shuddering breath left his lips.
"Okay, so I gained control of all three of the Hallows, and I gained a title," Harry admitted, his voice shaking a bit as he tried his best to brush off the magnitude of the revelation. "What does it matter anymore? I already died."
Death didn't respond right away, instead choosing to glide over to where Harry was standing. It glanced at him briefly before nodding at the Veil that stood behind him.
Harry's eyes widened, having forgotten about it being there. He set his eyes upon the ancient structure once more, whispered words reaching his ears the moment he did.
"You hear them, do you not? Loved ones…friends…family…They all call to you, urging you to pass through the curtain and join them in death."
He nodded absentmindedly, his gaze never leaving the ancient structure as if in a trance. He could practically see his mother and father now, waiting for him on the other side.
"So, I just walk through the Veil, and I'll be with my parents again? That's all I have to do?"
"If that is your choice…but the first 'Master of Death' deserves a reward, does he not?"
Harry had already started to make his way toward the archway when he registered Death's words. He turned to stare at the being, a questioning look on his face.
"A reward?" He asked. "What do you mean?"
"It means exactly that. If you wish to join your parents in the afterlife, you need only proceed through the veil…but that is only the first option," Death said, holding one skeletal palm out toward him. A moment later, the second was held out. "The second option…is your reward."
It was trying to entice him, lure him into hearing the offer. It had given a gift to the three brothers long ago, and the tale should have served as a warning, but Harry found his curiosity getting the better of him.
"…What's the second option?"
"Another chance at life."
Harry's eyes had still been looking at the outstretched hand before they snapped towards the hooded head of Death.
"Another chance? You mean, I get to live again?"
Death nodded.
"You have the possibility to return to the land of living, and not only that, you will be placed at an earlier point in time."
Harry could only stare in disbelief at what was being offered to him. Emerald eyes once again fixated on the second outstretched hand being extended toward him before looking at the Veil behind him, his mouth fixing itself into a thin line. The internal struggle that was raging within him was reflected on his face.
He remembered the Tale of the Three Brothers and recalled how the gifts hadn't been given selflessly.
"The reward," Harry asked warily. "Am I being offered it simply because I gathered all three of the Hallows?"
Death must have sensed where his thoughts had gone.
"It is that, and because I found your life and the manner in which you died…insulting."
Harry bristled in anger as he heard those words, his eyes narrowing into a menacing glare as he turned his head sharply toward the cloaked figure.
"Insulting? I sacrifice myself to help defeat one of the most powerful dark lords in history, and you find my death insulting?" He hissed out.
"Yes."
His fingers were curled into tight fists, causing the nails to dig deep into his palms. His knuckles were white with the strain of holding back his temper that threatened to spill over, or else he lashed out at the physical embodiment of death.
"The very first to obtain the title of 'Master of Death' should be without equal. One worthy of being associated with me. You, Harry Potter, are an exceptional wizard, but you could be more." Death explained, a hint of annoyance in its voice. That was the first sign of emotion it had shown. "And to make matters worse, you were killed by someone who has cheated me. Who has taken steps to evade my grasp."
"Voldemort," Harry whispered before letting out a quiet sigh. The next words he spoke lacked the initial anger he had felt. "So, that's how the reward works, huh? You get someone to deal with Voldemort, and I get another chance at life."
He could feel himself growing increasingly tempted to take the second option. The initial resolve to join his parents and everybody else in the afterlife was rapidly fading away.
"What you receive is the opportunity to prevent this," Death opened its arms out wide, gesturing to the castle, which lay in ruin. "To prevent all this destruction from happening. To save your home and…to save your friends."
Harry closed his eyes tightly at those final words, finding whatever hesitation he had in taking the offer crumbling into dust. He had the chance to save people and simply had to take it.
It was during our fifth year when Hermione first mentioned my saving-people thing…it was true then, and it's still true now.
He took a deep breath to settle himself, wiping away any hint of uncertainty from his face before turning to face the expectant Death.
"I'll go back," Harry said, his eyes full of determination. "I'll stop all this from happening and defeat Voldemort."
"I had a feeling you would accept my offer," Death told him before gesturing him to come closer. "Now, come. Step towards me so I may send you back."
Harry spared one final glance towards the Veil, an apologetic look upon his face.
Looks like I won't be joining you just yet.
For a fleeting moment, he saw what might have been his parents standing on the other side, looking back at him with love and pride in their eyes. A soft smile grew on Harry's face as he took in the moment before turning back around.
"Are you ready?"
"I am," Harry responded as he stopped just in front of the towering cloaked figure. "So, how will this work? And how far back am I going?"
"It is rather simple. I will be taking your soul and placing it in a past version of yourself," Death explained. "As for how far back you will go…well, you'll know soon enough."
Harry made to protest but was stopped before he could utter a single word. He shut his eyes tightly, a strangled gasp leaving his lips as the icy tendrils of Death's magic once again descended upon him, this time enveloping his soul in a vice-like grip.
A gust of cold air rushed past him, the sound assaulting his ears. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, leaving behind an unnatural stillness that hung in the hall.
With his eyes still closed, Harry let out a quiet sigh of relief as the tendrils that had clutched at his very being loosened their grip before releasing him completely.
"It is done," Death whispered into his ear. "I have gifted you a second chance, but with it comes certain expectations. You are the 'Master of Death,' but you must prove to me that you are deserving of such a title…And here is your first opportunity to do so…Do not disappoint me, Harry Potter."
Death departed before he could respond.
The soft murmur of whispered conversations gradually made its way to his ears, causing him to slowly and tentatively open his eyes. As he did so, his eyes widened in shock at the sight that greeted him.
Students of all houses were staring at him, their faces a mix of puzzlement and displeasure, but above all, anger. All of it directed toward Harry.
However, what stunned him was the small groups of students not wearing the customary Hogwarts uniform among the large crowd. Instead, they dressed in light blue robes made of the finest silk or in thick, blood-red garments.
Realization dawned upon Harry's face as he recognized what point in time he had been dropped in. A mixture of emotions bundled up inside of him, most prevalent among them was the sheer joy he felt. It threatened to spill over at the moment, and it took a monumental effort on his part to smother them.
Almost everybody stared at him angrily, but Harry didn't care. He much preferred seeing this over haunted and horror-stricken faces.
He scanned his surroundings, his eyes settling upon Professor Dumbledore, who gazed back at him with a serious look on his aged face.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called out. "Up here, if you please!
"Go on, Harry," Hermione whispered, nudging him forward softly.
Harry looked at her as he stood up, his happiness at seeing his friend slipping briefly onto his face. He smothered it quickly, but Hermione must have caught a hint of it, judging by her perplexed expression. He turned away from her, sparing a glance in Ron's direction, who, much like last time, had a furious look on his face.
Harry didn't let it get to him, nor did he pay any mind to the words thrown his way as he made his way toward the headmaster. His steps were confident and self-assured, bolstered by this new opportunity he had received.
"Well…through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said once he stopped before the older wizard.
Harry nodded at the headmaster before making his way to the chamber behind the Great Hall, but not before looking intently at the Goblet of Fire. The final words of Death echoed through his mind.
"Do not disappoint me, Harry Potter."
A/N:
I'm still working on In Different Hands, but the next chapter is taking a while to write. So, in the meantime, I've taken to writing a new story, something to keep me active.
I also have some other stories I'm working on, though only this one had its first chapter completed.
Anyway, hope you liked this first installment. Peace.
