Chapter 1 Sorrows of the past

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

$Parseltongue$

Spells

GODS

"Avada Kedavra!"

A sickly green beam raced towards Harry. He squeezed his eyes shut.

'Please don't hurt, Please don't hurt'. He felt a rush and then nothing.

Tentatively Harry opened his eyes, daring to cast a glance at his surroundings. The space he found himself in was pure white, almost like what those muggles would say heaven was like.

'Kinda looks like Kings Cross though'

"It does, doesn't it?" An eerie voice echoed in his head, causing every single hair on his body to stand on edge.

"I wondered when I would finally get the chance to meet you Mr. Potter, I assumed it would have been in your second year with the basilisk or maybe one of the many other ridiculous situations you found yourself in, but alas I had to wait. Mind you not that it makes much of a difference to me, but I must say Mr. Dumbledore played an excellent game."

Harry swiveled his head around frantically, hoping to locate the person who was speaking.

"Mr. Potter, I am speaking to you in your mind, you will not find my corporal form where you are, seeing as you are not yet in my domain." The voice spoke, vibrating the very molecules in Harry's head.

"Your Domain?" Harry questioned cautiously.

"Indeed. You are currently stuck in the middle. While I can speak to you here unlike in the mortal plane, you have not stepped into the underworld, or rather my domain. Hence why I do not appear before you. And yes, before you ask, you were killed. Or rather, a part of you was killed. Do me a favor. Do you see that white bench over there? Head over to it and take a peak underneath."

"Wait. Your Domain is the underworld!? Your Death?".

"Yes"

Harry tried to wrap his brain around what he just heard while slowly pushing himself up onto his feet. Death, he was talking to fucking death. Cautiously he made his way over to the white bench that was on the side of the walkway. Grabbing hold of the side and lowering his head under he spied a sickly orange creature. It reminded him of the form Voldemort had taken before his resurrection.

"What is this?" Harry questioned after some time, hoping that Death was still around.

"That, Mr. Potter, would be the shard of Mr. Riddle's soul that was imbued inside you on that Halloween many years ago."

"This is his horcrux?!"

"Indeed it is. Nasty bit of Magic, and that's coming from me! Though I do applaud dear Herpo for creating it. A way to defy me, ingenious really. If not for the psyche breaking down more and more every time one is created."

"What do you mean psyche breaking?"

"Ah yes. One of the more well hidden effects of a horcrux. Even Mr. Dumbledore had not been able to find that bit out, but seeing how this is extremely relevant to your own situation I shall explain. When a soul is split it is not just the soul that is split apart from the body, a piece of your mind goes with it. A tiny piece, yes. But a piece non the less, how else did you think Mr. Riddle's journal was able to gain its sentience? This piece, while tiny, still belongs within the mind. Think of a glass, if you were to break it in two, and then cut out a tiny sliver from the middle, the pieces would still fit back together. However there would be a miniscule hole, now generally this would cause no issues, but over time as stress develops with age or strain is put onto the mind, this can cause much larger and more prominent damage to the psyche."

"I understand. Is that why Voldemort is as insane as he is?" Harry asked curiously.

"No. He was born insane, but it certainly made it worse."

"Moving on. I do not have ample time with you, Death's duties and all so I will inform you of why I brought you here. You have three options as of now. The First, to be done with it all, and I will come bring you to the underworld to be with all of your past loved ones. The Second is to return back to just after you were hit with the killing curse, terrible name by the way all it does is unbind the soul doesn't kill anything really. And finally your last option which I believe would be in your best interests to pick, is to restart at the beginning."

"I can go back?! And what do you mean restart at the beginning?" Harry asked

"Yes. You can return, or you can restart at the beginning, I cannot explain this option entirely unless you pick it, only that all those you know would no longer recognize you."

"Send me back!" Harry Shouted.

"So be it. You may not like what you find. Many who you deemed trust worthy are certainly not. Good Luck Mr. Potter, we will meet again."

Confused by what Death had just said, Harry was about to open his mouth to ask when the room started to spin. Clenching his eyes firmly shut to avoid the nausea, he suddenly felt a cold breeze blowing through his hair.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings as he did. He saw the large trees of the forbidden forest, and the night sky looming above him with.

Casting his eyes around as he sat up he noticed that he was in the exact spot where Voldemort had struck him down. Looking around he noticed his wand lying on the ground next to him broken in half, no doubt broken by the Death eaters.

He couldn't believe that he was alive, but his thoughts and happiness on the matter quickly took a back seat when he remembered what was happening in the castle without him.

Gingerly picking himself up off the ground he checked for any injuries. After seeing none he quickly sprinted out of the forest and towards where the school could be seen in the distance. He made sure to scoop up the resurrection stone which was still lying in the grass where he dropped it, figuring it could be useful later.

As he broke over the hill he realized that he could not just barge into the castle without being spotted. He made a last second decision that instead of using the cloak which could have exposed him if not careful, he would go through the side by Hagrid's instead of the main entrance where there were no doubt going to be Death Eaters.

As Harry sprinted through the castle he noticed all the bodies throughout the hallways, along with the debris scattered throughout. Rounding the corner to the Great hall he could see the population currently at Hogwarts standing in the main courtyard facing Voldemort and the Death eaters.

"Harry POTTER IS DEAD!" He heard Voldemort call out to Sonorus.

"That may be Tom, but he has died fighting for the light, and in doing so has allowed me to come out of hiding to finish you off once and for all" An elderly man in strange robes responds in a calm voice.

'That's odd he looks an awful lot like Dumbledore.'

"Dumbledore, I should have known my little pet spy could not do the proper job and finish you off." Voldemort sneered back in response.

'DUMBLEDORE?! But how? No one survived the killing curse and he was sure he had seen Snape cast it. The only two who had been himself who his mother had sacrificed herself for, which he was positive hadn't happened for Dumbledore as he had watched the whole thing play out, and Vodemort who survived due to his horcruxes… no. It can't be.'

Harry looked on in horror and confusion as Voldemort and Dumbledore dueled against one another, unsurprisingly for him, it was not an equal match in the slightest. Dumbledore dominated the match easily, though when he thought about it it made sense since Tom had all but destroyed his mind and was severely weakened due to the loss of all his horcruxes. Oh dear god how he hoped he was wrong about that.

He watched on as Dumbledore cast the final spell causing Voldemort to freeze in place and slowly begin disintegrating where he stood. The headmaster walked over to where his body had been and picked up Vodlemort's wand.

"I shall be taking this back now I believe, it never was yours to wield Tom." He spoke quietly but Harry could hear it, and he was sure everyone else could too as they looked on with shock and horror, in the cases of the death eaters, to what they had just witnessed.

The Death eaters as one all started to run away, even that bitch Lestrange, and no one chased them. Everyone was too dumbfounded by what just happened. As the headmaster turned around Harry made a split second decision and hastily threw on his cloak. He needed to observe and hopefully disprove his terrible suspicions.

The Headmaster looked on with his famous twinkle in his eyes at the group of what remained of his current and former students, as they all broke into thunderous applause.

"Headmaster! How are you here?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked once the applause had died down.

"Ah. You see, I am quite lucky. It was a carefully laid plan by Severus and I, on the off chance that young Harry failed in his mission."

Silence

That is what followed those words. Well at least he knew that some people cared that he was dead that was touching at least. Dumbledore began waving his wand around, displaying what Harry had to admit was an incredible feat of magic as all of the broken rubble of the castle went back into place, as if the battle had never happened.

"Come. I am sure young Harry along with all those who have moved on to their next great adventure on this horrible day would want us to celebrate their lives, and all the lives you have all helped save by standing against the Dark lord and winning today." Dumbledore said as he opened his arms and the gates of the Great hall opened completely.

Many of the people began cheering once again as they filtered into the castle, Harry followed just a touch behind them all.

Harry had snuck into the headmaster's quarters as soon as he entered the castle, figuring that at some point or another Dumbledore would be here. He was not disappointed as a few hours later the headmaster entered with Mrs. Weasley hot on his tail.

"Headmaster I really must speak with you about the betrothal," Mrs. Weasley said in a very serious voice, one that Harry has never heard her use.

"Ah yes. Come Molly Have a seat," Dumbledore said as he motioned for Mrs. Weasley sit down in the chair across from the one he had just seated himself on. Actually throne was the more accurate description for the chair he was sitting on.

"Headmaster about the contra-"

"It is all sorted my dear," Dumbledore said as he raised his hand to stop her from continuing.

"Seeing as young Harry has passed away, just as we had anticipated, young Ginvera will get all of House Potter's assets."

'WHAT! Ginny was getting all of his house's assets? Why? How? Wait, his house had assets besides his trust vault?!'

"Good. I hated having to stand in the presence of that boy, the only reason I went along with that plan of yours was because House Prewett, my original house as you well know before I married Aruthur, were sworn enemies of the Potters. That good for nothing boy didn't even know the sheer amount of wealth and prestige he had and good riddance, the filthy half-blood that he was."

His mind was reeling. Mrs. Weasley was a Prewett? And on top of that she was the sworn enemy of his family! But that made no sense, she had taken him in, cared for him, and even acted as his own mother, which he in turn saw her as. And she called him filthy half-blood?! What the actual fuck was going on.

"Indeed my dear. While I have had to keep up appearances for the public's sake in saying that I too am a Half-blood even though that is far from the truth, I have to agree with you that the boy was far more naive than I ever expected. To have access along with being the Lord of not just the Most Ancient and Noble house of Potter but also the Most Ancient and Most Noble house of Black, and to never use or even inquire about any of his finances or rights, even if he was manipulated to be unaware is quite remarkable." Dumbledore stated as he adjusted his half moon glasses on his nose.

At this point Harry was in absorb mode. He wasn't even thinking anymore about what he was hearing, just doing everything he possibly could to absorb all of the information he could. He would reflect on what it all meant later.

"The boy was down right stupid and thank god too. If he had dug around even the tiniest bit he would have been the contract that we created for him after his parents deaths, betrothing him to Ginny. Or would have realized just how much Ronald loathed having to fake being friends with him. When can we expect the money headmaster?" Molly asked as her eyes shone with a light of greed, her words turning Harry's stomach into knots.

"This weekend we will all make a trip to Gringotts, if that works for you Molly?"

"Yes it does. Thank you again headmaster, for everything."

"You are most Welcome Molly. I Shall see you on Saturday then."

"Goodbye headmaster." Mrs. Weasly said as she stood up and bowed her head to him, before turning and walking out of the doors.

Harry's mind was racing. Ron didn't even like him, what the fuck. Not that he was entirely surprised as he was a bit of an asshat but he was still his best friend! And he was betrothed to Ginny when he was 1?! He knew that they were planning for him to die, he had seen Snape's memory of his conversation with Dumbledore but it was nowhere near as eye opening as the conversation he just witnessed had been.

He watched as Dumbledore casted privacy wards all over the room before pressing the button on the side of his desk. A picture frame appeared in front of him, housing a man with pure white hair and gleaming blue eyes. It was obviously not a magical portrait as the man was not moving.

"I have finally done it, Gellert. With the prestige I will obtain from bringing an end to Tom, I will be able to cement myself as the ruler of Magical Britain."

WHAT THE FUCK. Holy shit.

"I created Tom for this very purpose, setting him up in the exact environment he would need to cause his negative emotions to well over, introducing him to those who would hate and ridicule him for his blood status in order to mold him into what he became. I even went as far as to explain in detail to Horace what a horcrux was when I noticed Tom had taken an interest in creating them. I needed him to be perfect, to be everything you were and more." He spoke to the painting of how Harry had now realized it was Gellert Grindelwald.

"I molded him to hate all those who opposed him, and to turn into the worst dark lord our time has ever seen, then I waited for the perfect opportunity to strike him down, cementing my place in history and surpassing Merlin as the greatest Wizard to ever live! But then James Potter had to marry that filthy Mudblood and that god damn forsaken prophecy had to be created. I knew then that I needed them out of the picture, I needed full access to the boy to mold him to be exactly what was needed, a Martyr in my rise of glory. I prayed upon young Peter Pettigrew's weak character and used the imperius curse on Sirius Black to get him to suggest Pettigrew to be the secret keeper. After that it was just a matter of waiting, once everything was said and done and I set young Harry up with his relatives who I knew would hate him and torture him, but it was all for my greater good. For my Utopia that I will now finally be able to build! My only regret is that I have to sacrifice Fawkes in order to revive myself after being killed by Severus." Dumbldore continued to monologue to the painting but Harry couldn't take it anymore.

Thankfully the door was still a hair open so Harry slipped out as quietly as he could. His mind was working in overdrive as he rushed through the halls up to the seventh floor and into the Room of Requirement. He was struggling to comprehend what he had just learned. It was Dumbledore's fault that he was at the Dursleys, it was Dumbledore's fault that he had been nearly killed, and even worse, it was Dumbledore's fault that his parents were dead!

The room of requirement had created the perfect place for him to work his feelings out, with multiple dummies and targets all across the room, but as Harry stumbled in he barely registered any of it. His vision had gone red, he had never felt like this before.

Sure he hated Voldemort, and blamed him for many of his poor life's misfortunes, but that was nothing compared to the overwhelming feelings he felt at that very moment.

Pure rage. He felt pure rage at Albus Dumbledore. For all the misery the demented old kook had cast into his life. Without even thinking Harry pulled out his wand and began casting every known spell he could, trying to tame the ever growing flame of rage and hate that had lit within him.

After hours of casting, his emotions were still overwhelming him, and Harry failed to realize that his magical reserves had been well and thoroughly drained.

"I hate him!" He snarled as he thrust his wand forwards in the motion of a spell towards a dummy.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry watched as the sickly green light of the killing curse left his wand and impacted the dummy he was aiming for, causing it to explode into a million shards. His mind, reeling with the fact that he now had enough hate to cast the unforgivables even when after Sirius's death he had still been unable to do so on Lestrange, before suddenly blacking out as Harry collapsed onto the floor.

"Back so soon Mr. potter?" A familiar voice called out to him.

Harry recognized the familiar white space that greeted him as he groggily pried his eyes open.

"So I'm dead again?" He asked, less upset then he thought he would be.

"More or Less" A man responded from behind him.

Harry whirled around, coming face to face with a man and a woman. The man was roughly 6 feet tall, with a large pitch black cloak around his body, obscuring all but his face which was not hooded. His skin was deathly pale, with jet black hair. His face, perfectly sculpted into the most aristocratic features Harry had ever seen. But it wasn't his perfectly sculpted cheekbones, or even his colorless lips that Harry noticed the most, no, it was his jet black eyes, with no white or even irises for that matter, just a darkness that felt like it was sucking him in. In his hand was a large scythe with a pure black blade.

"Your Death" Harry said, already knowing he was right.

"How very astute of you." The man responded sarcastically.

"No need to patronize him dear." The woman said, speaking up for the first time. Her voice filled Harry with warmth.

Harry stared at her dumbfounded. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She had long white hair that cascaded over her shoulders all the way down to her hips. Her body put even the Veela he had seen to shame, perfect, that was the only way to describe what she was. Her legs were impossibly long, with wide hips and a waist that should not have been possible. Her sizable bust perfectly complementing it all. She wore a white silk dress, at least he assumed silk.

Harry could not take her eyes off of her face, she had pure white eyes, much like Death had black, with the same perfect aristocratic features. In her left hand she held a ball of yarn while her right was holding Death's left.

"It seems introductions are an order. Mr. Potter, this is my wife. Fate. It is thanks to her we are speaking with you face to face now, as I already told you it was not within my power to display myself in the middle grounds, but she can bring me with her." Death spoke once more, causing Harry to rip his eyes away from the stunning beauty.

"You do not look surprised by this Harry." The woman, Fate, said as she eyed him curiously.

"I'm not. No human can look so beautiful, I figured you were some kind of deity." Harry shrugged.

Fate laughed at this, and the sound brought pure joy to Harry's heart. He felt lighter, happy even.

"Flirting with my wife aye Mr. Potter? Be lucky that I like you or I would cleave your soul where you stand" Death said as a smile broke out across his face.

"R..Right" Harry gulped, fully aware that that was not an empty threat.

"That's enough dear. I'm sure Harry is curious why he is back here so soon, aren't you Harry?"

He nodded.

"Well. You were given three options, and you chose to be sent back. Now that should have been the end of it, but I stepped in, much to my husband's displeasure, he always hates when I interfere, anyways moving on, you were so upset by what you had found out you completely drained your magical core, effective killing yourself, and now here we are!" Fate said as a brilliant smile appeared on her face.

"Okayyy. But why am I here again? I thought next time I die I would die for good?"

"Me too." Death muttered to himself, before Fate smacked him on the back of the head.

"What my rude husband has failed to say, is that we, or well me because little Deathy here does as his wife tells him, feel that your life has been unfair from the start, and that you never had any real chance. You were caught between two lords, a Dark and a Light, both wanting to rule the world and bend it to their own whims, no matter the cost. A truly heinous fate for a child to deal with, pun intended."

"So what happens now?" Harry asked, trying to get over the fact that she just called Death "Little Deathy."

"Well. We assume you don't want to let everyone suffer under either Tom or Albus."

Harry nodded his head at that.

"Then we are going with option three! Back to the beginning for you!" Fate said as she clapped her hands together, smiling at him.

"The beginning? What do you mean?" Harry questioned, confused by everything that was happening.

"Mr. Potter, what my wife is trying to say is that you will be going back in time to the first blood war of Britain."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he sputtered trying to form a response.

"Indeed. We will be sending you back to 1973, which would be right around the time your parents had entered their third year at Hogwarts. Now there are a couple of things we are going to send with you because as that stupid prophecy stated you must have the "Power to vanquish the Dark lord" and you obviously do not." Death stated matter of factly.

Harry perked up at hearing this, gifts from Death and Fate themselves! That could be a huge deal if the deathly hallows were anything to go by.

"I'm glad to see you understand the significance of what is happening here Mr. Potter, it is much more pleasant when we speak to intelligent humans rather than some of the duller ones."

"Don't be rude to others when they are not here!" Fate chastised Death as he grumbled in response.

"So what will you be giving me?" Harry questioned, trying to offer Death a way out from what was obviously soon to be a scolding.

"Two things Mr. Potter, I will be back momentarily. I need to go and fetch what you need." Death said looking at him gratefully for getting him out of his wife's wrath. He disappeared in a puff of black smoke not a second later.

"Right. I will do the explaining so we don't have to wait in silence!" Fate proclaimed cheerfully.

How two being so drastically different could be married was not something Harry could wrap his head around, but he guessed it made some sense considering they are immortal and all that.

"So, you will be getting two things as Deathy said. Firstly we will be giving you a wand, seeing as yours broke and technically even though you have the ownership of the Elder wand you cannot take it with you as you do not possess it. So we will be giving you an even better wand!"

"Wait, I own the Elder wand?!" Harry asked, eyes widening at what he had just been told.

"Oh yes. It is based on disarmament not death which is funny considering who it is from. Anyway it belonged to Albus, who lost it to Draco, who lost it to you! So yes it's yours but let's move on from that."

At this point Harry didn't know what to think so he motioned for her to continue.

"Besides the wand, you will be taking back a journal that will be imbued with your four greatest ancestors' consciousnesses, so that you will have aid and they will train you. And do not worry about possession and all that jazz, this is not a horcrux like Tom's diary and is perfectly safe seeing as we are the ones giving you it."

"Four greatest ancestors. So I could speak to my PARENTS!" Harry exclaimed in a rush of excitement. Fate began to laugh, confusing him.

"Harry. You are quite literally going back to your parents' time. Of course you can talk to them, in person as a matter of fact."

"Oh." Harry said quietly, embarrassed that he had forgotten that huge detail.

Thankfully the very next moment Death re appeared carrying a silver journal, along with four other silhouettes shroud in darkness behind him.

"Right. Now that we are all hear I will be introducing you to your companions and mentors' Mr. Potter. They know who you are seeing as how they have been watching you since you were a baby from the underworld. We will start with the youngest and move on from there." Death Spoke before waving at one of the shadows to approach.

As the shadow moved forward a beautiful woman, standing at about 5 '6, appeared before him. She looked to be about 35 or 40, and was clad in a black dress that was obviously far out of style, along with a corset that conformed tightly to her shapely body. Her black hair was put up into a perfect bun, just a touch higher than Professor Mcgonagall's. Her features were sharp and she had the same piercing green eyes as both Harry and his mother.

"Mr. Potter. Allow me to introduce you to your ancestor Gormlaith Gaunt, born 1576." Death spoke as he referred to the women in front of him.

"I'm related to the Gaunts!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes you are. Thankfully too. I could not bear to watch the psychopathic bastard tarnish our name any longer. I thank the heavens that I had the sense to hide my line from my deranged relatives. Your mother was from my line, but her birth parents died when she was just a baby, dragon poxes. " Gormlaith sneered as she said those last words.

"Wait, so I am Pureblood?!" Harry questioned with wide eyes. His Mother was a Gaunt! It made sense when he thought about it, it would explain where she had gotten the blood rituals and runic sequences needed to protect him that night all those years ago.

"Yes. And thank the Gods. I know you have your own opinions on blood purity, but when I am from being a Pureblood did actually mean more power and prestige, and I get the feeling it still does despite what many would claim to you." Gormlaith responded to him with a kind smile. Harry could only stare at her at the realization of what she had just said hit him, but before he could say anything death was introducing someone else.

"And this would be Salazar Slytherin born 934, though I am sure you know who he is."

Harry stared in awe as a man appeared before him, dressed in the most pristine green robes he had ever seen. He was about 6 '3, with a lean but obviously very muscular build, with a sharp jawline and pointed features. His high cheek bones displayed his shining green eyes, and his short black hair had flecks of grey both on top of his head and in his extremely neat goatee. He noticed that Gormlaith was also staring at Salazar in awe.

"So, this is the boy who denied himself entry to my house. Not that I can blame you, all those foul folk have corrupted what it means to be a Slytherin! But don't you worry, we will fix that." Salazar smirked as a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.

Harry and Gormlaith stared at him, mouths gapping in shock but who they were seeing.

"Close your mouths! You are my ancestors for gods' sake! I will not have my descendants looking like simple minded fools just by meeting me! No matter how great I am." Salazar snapped at them. They both hastily closed their mouths.

"OOOH! I want to introduce this one!" Fate shouted as she bound up to the next shadow.

Fate grabbed the arm of the next shadow pulling them forward. As they shimmered into view a woman stood in the shadow's place. She stood at about 6 foot, significantly taller than Gormlaith, with long blood red hair that cascaded down her back until about midway. Her irises were silver with a touch of green in them. She was wearing a silver crown on her head along with a tight fitting silver corset and silver gown showing off her shapely figure. The clothing was extremely elegant, regal even. She moved with a grace that not even Salazar himself had.

"I would like to introduce you all to Queen Morgan Le Fey born 374." Fate started with a huge smile on her face.

Now it was Salazar's turn to have his mouth gaping with amazement. Gormlaith as well as her eyes widened far larger than Harry could have thought possible. Harry however, was a bit confused, as he had never heard of a Morgan Le Fey before.

"What happened to not gaping with our mouth's open Salazar?" Harry questioned with a smirk on his face.

"Do you not know who that is boy! That is the last queen of Magical Britain! Do the words 'Oh Morgana' ring a bell! She's Morgana!" Salazar shouted at him as he spun around to face Harry.

Harry's eyes widened in realization.

"I am so sorry your highness!" Harry exclaimed, bowing as deep as he could to Morgan without falling over.

"There is no need for that dear, you are after all, just as much royalty as I am." She laughed at him, amused by his lack of decorum.

"I'm royalty?" Harry asked, his eyes widening once more.

"Indeed. You all are technically seeing how you are all from my bloodline, but there has not been one who was ready to claim the title until you Harry." Morgan explained with a smile on her face.

"As touching as this all is, a lot of souls are aimlessly wandering due to how long this is taking. So could we please get a move on? You can ask your questions later." Death remarked, obviously annoyed with how long this was taking.

He quickly walked over and grabbed the last shadow, pulling him along with him until he came into view.

The man in question had messy black hair, not unlike the potters, with bright blue eyes. He was about 6 feet tall as well, standing at an even height with Death. His frame was broad and intimidating, his features were less pronounced than Salazar or Death, but still sharper than most Harry had met. He had a large grin on his face and Harry could not help but notice how he looked a great deal like his father. Realizing that this was someone from his Father's line, Harry became excited to finally meet a Potter.

"And last and least, this is Herpo Peverll, also known as Herpo the foul. Born 515 BCE." Death smiled, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

Harry stared at the man in horror, realizing just who it was he was related to.

"Y..Y..Your Herpo the f..foul. As in the creator of the h..horcrux, the d..dark wizard?" Harry questioned with uncertainty, terrified of the truth that he was related to such a monster.

"HA! Indeed I am kiddo, but I don't know about all that dark shit. Dark, light, there isn't a difference! You have seen it yourself with your 'oh so great leader of the light'" Herpo said with a grin as he made air quotes.

"Hang on. Now that I think about it, aren't all four of you considered to be some of the worst Dark Lords and Ladies to ever live!" Harry exclaimed, questioning just what Death and Fate thought they were doing, giving him such dark mentors.

"Yes they are Harry. But that does not mean that they are evil, for a long time being a Dark Lord or Lady was simply meant as a term for a magical who was so powerful that it could not be explained what they were doing. Only in recent years with the rise of monsters like Gellert and Tom has the term begun to shift." Fate supplied.

"Moving on. We are running short on time so let's get you that wand." Fate cheerfully said as she took the ball of yarn in her hand and pulled out a string.

Death mirrored her, breaking off a piece of his scythe. Then he turned to Harry, handing him the silver journal in his hand. Harry watched as the broken scythe instantly repaired itself.

Harry, along with his four ancestors, looked on in wonder as Death and Fate brought the pieces together and began waving their hands over them chanting. About 5 minutes later a pure black wand, with a white tip appeared in between them.

"A wand made with Death's Obsidian with a core of a Fate string. Take it Mr. Potter, and use it well." Death stated as he handed Harry the wand. As soon as Harry touched it he felt a rush, and then all the sudden the room flashed, causing Harry to tightly close his eyes.

As Harry opened them he looked around in wonder as he was standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Walking over to a newspaper thrown on the ground he picked it up, taking note of the date at the top.

September 18th, 1973.