This is a rewrite of my 'from lions, to Roses.'
Harry blinks, but quickly shuts his eyes as bright white light harasses him.
A pained groan echoes throughout the strange realm before the wizard covers his face and tucks his face in between his legs.
The last thing he remembers was dueling a dark wizard he needed to take down, being the head of auror's made him more of a desk worker, so he'll let himself off the hook for not dodging the diffindo, though he hopes Hermione doesn't bring him back to kill him again.
"Your thoughts always amuse me master" a soft voice filled his ears.
The instincts honed from a life of survival have him snapping his eyes open forcing himself to adjust to the brightness, and blanches towards the one who spoke and is standing before his person. The height of their being towering over his sitting person.
At least this time he's not greeted by Dumbledore.
However, thinking about the last time he appeared at this…place that can only be called limbo. He shutters as the cold tile presses against his back and sits up. If he remembers correctly, scrunching up his nose and concentrating Harry wills himself to be clothed, dutifully ignoring the pulse of amusement from the being before him.
He feels relief as the robes curl around his form. He has died, now three times.
Sure he'll miss everyone, but after Hogwarts was rebuilt everyone tried to stay in touch, but with everyone being so busy and his relationship with Ginny deteriorating until they split it's not much of a sadness.
The Weasley's drifted away from him after the breakup and he understands that Ginny is the little girl of the family, so he can't fault them for siding with her. He had broken the girl's heart and ended the relationship. He had not been feeling the emotions or connection he had since he came back from Voldemort's Avada Kedavra. Especially when it became clear to him that he was only pushing himself to love her so he could gain a family.
Harry knew it wasn't fair to Ginny.
"Death?…" Harry asks wary, trying to push his thoughts away, instinctively knowing who's in front of him.
"Death that is I and you little one are my Master." The entity says so simply but the intense energy coming from the deity tells him that the personification of death is very much happy.
'Master?' He mentally despairs.
'Not another Doby!'
He jolts upon feeling foreign amusement startles.
He looks towards the deity and calms his mind with unneeded breaths, with clearer thoughts he notices and feels a connection humming between the being and him.
Hermione's rambles come to mind as he vaguely remembers her going on about the beetle and the bard, but with all the actions involving his life, he can give himself some leniency for forgetting about that nor thinking it's anything credible, besides a fable.
Right?
But he's here, and the other is that no one can fake the essence of death, at least his instincts tell him that.
"Dobby the elf who sacrificed himself for you, quite the character"
"Master, it's so good to see you, unfortunate that it came so soon." The deity continues on their form ever-shifting and their voice ever-changing.
'Stop calling me master' he mentally screams
The deity seems to sigh before giving him a look of patience:
"Little one" and now he wants Master back. The endearment coming from such an entity makes him feel mortified.
What is that, a smirk?
"You have a peculiar situation, my master" the being continues ignoring the narrowing of HarryMs eyes
He is tired, can't he just rest?
The being hums contemplatory, probably listening to his thoughts.
"Mortal you are no longer," the being says, tapping him on his forehead as he is guided to sit down a whole room materializes out of nowhere, but the color is washed out making everything look like it's made of white marble.
"You are now my master," They turn to him, "You, don't have to do anything, or you can do anything."
"You're not bound by the mort plane anymore. You are me. My person, my extension in the physical realm, should you choose to enact it."
"We are nothing and everything, anyone and no one."
'Everything and nothing?'
"The Beginning and the end spiraling in a never-ending cycle of balance." He says, and that came out of him from nowhere.
"Exactly," The deity seems pleased, "And they say Hermione was the smart one" death teases, and that alone jars Harry.
The fact that the being knows Hermione-
"Death knows all" and yeah he feels stupid.
" Little one" Death says, seeming to sense or read his mind.
Inhaling, and hesitantly he asks, "Can I see my parents? Remus?…Sirius" finished meekly.
He knows that he barely had any time with Sirius, but the man who was one of the first adults gave him hope that there were people who cared about him more than what he could offer as the Boy who lived.
They give him a long look, "If you choose to stay in my realm you'll be able to meet them again.
"But I have another opinion for you my master,"
'Great… and What is that?' He mentally bemoans.
He's tired and wants to see rest.
He's tired of being alone, tired of having to follow another's drum.
Tired of fighting for a world that continues to condemn him when something doesn't go their way.
He would do anything to have a chance to live for himself.
"Anything?" Death purrs, interrupting his thoughts.
"Even go to another world?" They murmur, circling him.
"What if I say? A new universe, a different life, and a new world to explore."
"You can have the freedom of being who you're meant to be," they coo into his ear, making his heart beat fast.
Who is he meant to be?
"What do you mean?" He whispers back. wanting to know his life has been filled with constant fighting and following orders and then being led to his death like a lamb for slaughter.
"Now, now," Death, not answering him, but pauses for dramatics.
Harry feels intrigued despite himself as death continues, "This place has an unusual fixation with death, and the powers that be are keen on disturbing the balance of the multiverse. They continuously cross the lines between life and death."
"The foolish 'old' gods of this world have created a creature too powerful for their good. A fracture in the balance of their universe that is leaking into the multiverse."
"A cheap imitation of us." Harry jolted shivering at the sheer malice slipping through the primordial beings' voice, a thousand souls seemed to cry in unison with his words.
Harry isn't even gonna try and grasp the fact that there is more than his universe, almost nothing can surprise him much anymore.
"What does this have to do with me?" He decides to ask what's more important in his mind.
The being stares at him like they can read his very soul, which is most likely. If he's to be honest.
"One of the most deadly times this strange world has ever seen in over eight thousand of their years." The deity intones with a seriousness that makes him unconsciously straighten.
"Planetos, the name of the world in an Era of Kings and Queens, slavers, and all the diseases a man could ask for." They end with mock cheer, even going so far as to do jazz hands.
"Slaves?" He repeats with disgust, morbidly watching as the being seems to give him a dark grin.
"Oh, yes." Death is cynical.
"There is a continent called Essos that has practically industrialized slave trade." The deity says simply, though Harry can sense a distaste for the 'practice'.
"Fortunately there's hope, for the continent beside them are against the practice, so maybe they'll figure it out like your world eventually will."
'Will!?' Is that implying there are still-
He wants to throw up thinking about that.
"If you want freedom, a name of your own making, and a family that will soothe your soul take this task and you will gain it.
The being levels him with a stern glance, "as my physical representation. I have one task for you, should you decide to go,"
"You will fix the broken balance and maintain it in my name."
"Why should I do it? I'm tired of fighting!" Harry growls, despite the temptation of a family.
He can admit that a family has always been his secret desire. He'll always love his birth parents and his godfathers, but he never really got the opportunity to have a tangible relationship with them to truly understand what it meant to be a son, or a brother, if he had any siblings, had his parents lived.
Death cups his cheeks making him look up into the abyss that is his hooded face, the skeleton-like hands cool to the touch, "You're in a position where you can change the fate of their world should you do it."
The deity pets his brow smoothing the wrinkle, "I know it's a lot to ask especially since you've already saved one world, but I think this will be good for you master because I think you'll find a place in this world that will make you truly happy."
Truly happy?
"What is the place you said that didn't support slavery?" He asks warily, shuddering as the deity grins like a cat who caught the canary.
They make a humming sound, "Sounds to me that you've already made your decision"
However, not answering his question
"Yeah," Harry says determinedly.
After those words were spoken he felt a familiar, but more intense tugging sensation of an apparition on his person.
The last thing he sees is Death wiggling their bone-like fingers as he's sent off to the place who knows where.
He realized he never asked for more information on the world he's being sent off to, all he knows is the name of a country and the fact that there were castles.
Sounds like Hogwarts all over again.
Blinking his eyes open he squints, again, as everything seems blurry and larger than he's used to.
'The vision of a baby,' his muddled mind supplies as he tries to look around, but with great difficulty, Harry tilts his head and tries to around only to pause as strands of silver locks invade his vision.
The face that meets his is of a delicate-looking lady, with beautiful pale silver hair, he can see a vague blurry smile on her face and that alone makes his heart flutter, despite the confusion.
'Why does she look so big?' Is he the child of a giant?
Oh, yeah he's a baby.
"My, aren't your eyes just beautiful my sweet," her voice is soft and sweet, the words instantly translating into his head, and he wonders if that has to do with his connection to death.
As death knows all languages.
The soft of his new mother's voice meets his ear as a hand caresses his cheek.
"I'm sure you'd give the Lannisters a run for their money, with how vibrant and green your eyes are my little one," Harry scrunches his nose as he looks up at her confused at the Lannister's comment.
He gurgles, yes gurgles when he attempts to speak.
Of course, being a baby makes him incapable.
He is interrupted upon his attempt to babble by getting a sloppy kiss on the cheek for his cuteness, making him still and marvel as he's manhandled with such care.
His disoriented mind is still adjusting to his new predicament.
"He's so cute!" Another voice whispers excitedly and he tries to turn his head to see.
"That he is." His mother agrees, brushing her lips across his brow and it's then he realizes, like truly realizes, that the woman before him is his new mother. The heightened emotions of his new body make his eyes water and his lips wobble.
The beautiful woman, for she is stunning even if he can't see well, hopefully he doesn't need glasses again. His mother tucks him into her breast, and he would not deny that he sought the comfort of his new mother selfishly.
He can hear the voice of a man speak outside the doors of the room they are in, though the room is surprisingly huge.
Making him wonder just which home he's in.
"My love, I'm so glad you're well!" A cheery voice says, and he tries to turn his head again much to the amusement of his mother.
Harry watches as what can only be described as a blurry oaf walks in, with a flamboyant step.
The plump man reaches them and leans down to press a kiss to his wife's head before meeting and giving Harry a toothy grin that makes his heart flutter.
The loud man picks him up with a surprising amount of gentle care.
"Oh, Mace I've been through this two times already, and the Maester said this was the most healthy pregnancy he's seen, and said we are blessed by the maiden if he was a believer." The woman says with a hearty swoon.
Harry listened to them absently in favor of admiring the fine work on the man's shirt, especially all the intricate weaving of what looked like real gold thread.
"Yes, yes, but you're my wife, and I can't help it if I worry for you, my dear."
"Now who do we have here?" The man holding him asks, bringing Harry's attention to his new father, Mace, as he speaks to Harry.
"Look at those eyes, hah!" The loudness of the man's voice makes him wince but it's nothing in the face of such adoration.
"What's this commotion about some eyes?" A stern voice that rivals McGonagall's speaks up making the man holding him spin making him face to face with the speaker.
The old woman is short in stature, but he can tell that she isn't one to trifle with.
"Ah, mother!" Harry can feel a headache pulse as the exuberant man bounces to the aforementioned mother.
"This is…" Mace pauses looking back towards their wife, while pausing causing him to hold Harry out like a child would present a kitten, by the armpits with his leg dangling listlessly.
"Darling, did you ever decide on a name?" Mace asks, making Harry realize what's happening.
"I thought you'd like to name him since you let me name our other boys," he hears his new mother speak, as that's the only logical conclusion he can come up with.
"Oh, well I don't know, I thought you'd have come up with a name." His new father says with a stupefied look holding Harry to his face as he seems to think hard.
Is Harry imagining steam coming off of the man's face?
"Oh you big oaf, give me the little lad," he hears his new grandmother speak, and the man doesn't hesitate to comply, showing Harry just who runs the house.
He is acquainted with a face of wrinkles that somehow manages to stay elegant, wearing an intricate headwrap, there is a stern permanent frown on the old woman's face that seems to soften as she stares into his eyes.
"I'm half tempted to have you named Tytos, just to see the look on Tywin's face, are you sure you didn't sleep with a Lannister?" The old woman shrewdly asks his new mother.
"Mother!" His new father interjects
The powerful old lady merely titters, "Relax I'm only jesting."
"Dear boy, how do you feel about being named… "She hums looking off in the distance, "Ah! Let's say, Haedrian."
"How unfortunate that you have your father's hair." She says gently cascading her fingers through his hair as she walks over to his mother.
She gives him back to his mother and says, "Besides if I thought for a second this baby wasn't yours I'd have had her drinking moons tea before she even knew she'd been pregnant."
After a second of silence and settling into his new mother's arms he lets the old woman's voice wash over him as exhaustion washes over his person
"…so Haedrian, our little Haedrian Tryell, the new rose of Highgarden" she speaks.
"What will you do?" She whispers, her aged hand tracing his ear.
"I just hope you're not another bumbling oaf like your father."
"Mother," the whine of his new father makes him crack a sleepy smile allowing sleep to take hold of him, enjoying the warmth of his new mother as she gently caresses his back with hypnotic strokes.
'Haedrian Tyrell, huh?'
Could be worse.
A/n:
Consider this one an Au, without Sirius in the picture…sorry T-T. I just felt it was right for this rewrite.
For those who like the other story with Sirius don't worry I'm still writing that one (might not be as active, but I'll definitely try editing the existing characters of the other story.)