Fifth summary: This takes place at the beginning of Harry's fifth year when the Dementors attack. They actually manage to give Harry the kiss. Goodbye horcrux. Harry wakes up to Mrs Figg's shouting and gets up a bit woozy. Together they drag Dudley home and things continue pretty much canon until the broom ride to Grimmault place. Harry has been having the strangest sense of dejavu and then he dies again! MoD!Harry.

Ch. 5 Master of Death Harry

Harry sat on his bed and stared at his hands. They were trembling a bit but he thought that was understandable. He was pretty sure that half an hour ago he had been kissed by a Dementor.

He was supposed to be a soulless husk yet here he was, mostly unharmed and Listening to his Aunt and Uncle ranting downstairs about how no good nothing he was. He also wanted to go to the loo and use a galleon of mouthwash. Dementor kiss was exactly as advertised. Foul.

Dudley had been a prick as usual and when the Dementors were upon them, his cousin had panicked. Using his considerable mass, Dudley had flattened him before high tailing it. Not that his cousin had gotten far. The second Dementor had caught him but been unable to kiss him because Dudley had fallen on his face and passed out. No Dementor was built to turn his cousin over.

Harry on the other hand had been flattened to the ground, dazed from having his air punched out and by how badly smarting the back of his head still felt, he had probably hit it as well. Not that he needed any excuse, but he liked to think he would've been able to do something when the Dementor revealed its face and started kissing him!

"Eurgh!" Harry desperately brushed his lips with his sleeve. "That was my first kiss! Can this get any more pathetic."

Was it wrong to be more upset about that than actually surviving or being attacked in the first place.

"I want to be obliviated," Harry moaned as he remembered the kiss. It was horrifying. He couldn't help but remember. There was hardly anything to call a face, just a gaping black maw. As it had descended on him, Harry remembered he had been thinking about how his Boggart would show a Dementor wearing ugly ass make-up for the rest of this life. At the time he had expected that to be around 30 seconds. He remembered the sensation of a pull and something in him had given in. Then suddenly the Dementor was gone and Mrs. Figg was screeching about wands and magic.

"That bloody squib!"

All these years. All. These. Years. That crazy cat lady had known. She had stood by and watched all the things the Dursleys did. All the chores outside, the second hand clothes, being left behind every single vacation and she had just watched and reported. Hadn't lifted a finger to help him. Bloody bitch!

Harry was not feeling warm feelings towards her or any of the Order members. They too had been watching all this summer long apparently. All the frustrating days when he had scavenged for news, all hot summer days when the sun had burnt his back while gardening, all the time his Uncle had shouted at him outside.

"Those Fuckers!" Harry threw himself on his bed and hit the mattress with his fists. His blood was boiling. "They could've helped, they could've talked to me at least! They must've seen how much I tried to get any news about what was happening!"

Oddly enough this feeling of betrayal felt familiar. It was like dèjá vu.

He looked at the crumbled letters next to him. Fat load of good any of them were. And Dumbledore sending that howler - Wait, how did he know that? Downstairs he had wondered who would send his Aunt a howler like that and it didn't even sound like Dumbledore. But Harry knew it was the man now.

"Remember my last," Harry snorted. The last time as far as he knew Dumbledore had anything to do with his aunt had been by the letter when he had been left outside the door in a basket.

"Hoot," Hedwig seemed to agree with him.

Briefly Harry contemplated on sending letters to his friends but he had done that all summer long. Obviously they put other things before their "friendship" so he got up to write to the last one he had any hope for, Sirius.

You've heard by now, no doubt about it that Dementors visited me. The Ministry is demanding a hearing for underage magic use, which I did not do. Get me out of here or I'll leave on my own and you won't be invited to come along!

Your only godson,


"You up to little flying, girl?" Harry asked Hedwig and obediently she flew onto his desk. "Give this to Sirius, preferably when he is alone."

He knew it was a low-ball, reminding Sirius of Azkaban and his duties as a godfather but the man was the last chance of him knowing what the hell was going on. Watching as Hedwig flew away, Harry contemplated the day some more.

How could he be so sure Ron and Hermione wouldn't lift a finger to help him? How could he know about Dumbledore? He really felt he knew. As in knew. How things would turn out. It was only that he didn't quite remember. For instance he was sure he ought to be much more worried about the Ministry warning but he couldn't care less. He was sure they would try and backstab him yet it would turn out alright.

"I am not turning into another Trelawney," Harry shuddered. But he had always trusted his time he would too, no matter how off-putting the idea of divination felt.

Despite suddenly gaining confidence of future events, he was not that worried about it. What really worried him, Harry shuddered again, was that Kiss. Something had gone wrong but he felt that somehow it had gone right instead. As if this was a good thing. Which it was of course, he liked to be alive, but there was something more. If only he could know what.

Despite his revulsion, he tried to once more think closer on what happened. The maw. The pulling. The pull… It was hazy.

"Something gave in? I felt it, something left me. What was it?" Harry tapped his head around but nothing was physically missing.

´Voldemort left something in you…´ an old voice whispered into his ear.

"What did Dumbledore mean by that?" All those years ago the old man had been less cryptic than he wanted.

Harry bit his lip. He was on the verge of figuring this out.

"If I had something of Voldemort and… Could I have lost that?"

He remembered the visions of last year. Nagini, that old dead Riddle house caretaker, Wormtail.

"Voldemort left something in me which caused the visions? I lost something yet I am still here. Could he have…" Harry swallowed, never before had he even wanted to think more on his connection with Voldemort.

"Could he really have left something concrete enough in me for it to be taken away?"

If so, he was happy to have it gone.

Yes, he was sure this was it. He could almost remember that this even had a name. Horus – Hocus pocus – Horcrux!


Harry had no idea what it was or how could he know something like this but he was dead sure he had it right. And that Dumbledore knew! All the little things, being happy his blood had been used to raise the bastard last year, the diary the old man wanted so badly to keep to himself after his second year, his scar that had not healed in years yet Dumbledore felt it was just fine.

"I… I…," Harry was so angry and betrayed that he didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think or what to say anymore. It was all tearing him to shreds inside.

"AAAARGH!" He shouted, screamed at anything and everything in his room. Then he took his pillow, threw it hard on his bed and started hitting it.

It must've been minutes later, when he was beginning to feel the stress in his arms that he stopped. It wasn't nearly enough but at least it hurt a little less.

"How didn't I realize this earlier?" His mostly empty room didn't have the answer, neither did Harry. But one thing he did know. It was about time to get the hell out of Privet Drive. He had a godfather to meet, Diagon Alley to visit, Ministry to screw and a world to see. It seemed like an awfully good idea not to be in Hogwarts this year and if he was right, there was a way to do that.

He lunged to his trunk and began shuffling through the books there. They had been given a pamphlet at the end of the school year to prepare them for the O. . Hermione had read it three times and then backwards and couldn't shut up about it during their train ride back to London.

"Yes!" Harry drew out a thin yellow folded paper. "O. and why they form the base of your studies," read on the cover. He had skimmed it through in the train and there was one important point, close to the end.

"Aha!" There it was. "The Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations. Commonly called the O. . Study hard and you will be rewarded. Your future awaits…" Basically it was a lot of drivel praising the Ministry and the traditions. You had to use the right color regulation form ink and the parchment was soaked in anti-cheating solution. But the most interesting part was at the end. In small print.

"Some careers require certain subjects to be taken at N.E.W.T –level. Your O.W.L results either guarantee a place for you in these studies or direct you to a more suitable area of expertise on a lower level of achievement. Minimum requirement for wand right is one O.W.L in a core subject…"

Harry was beginning to form a plan. "So all I need is one passing O.W.L and I have basically graduated Hogwarts. How about that?"

He dove back into the pamphlet.

"Timetable… timetable… Where was it… Ah! The O. are managed by the Wizarding Examinations Authority. Most schools organize a testing session at the end of each year and students are automatically signed to the exams. For smaller institutions, Hedge-schools and home schooled children or those wishing to retake their O. the WEA organizes a testing three times a year. In January, May and August. There is a minimum age requirement of fifteen years."

The cogs turning in Harry's head were scrambling loudly. He had an idea and now he had a plan.


Unfortunately before Harry could even sent the letter and sign-up to the August testing, seeing as Hedwig had not returned, his midnight escort arrived. Then again Harry had known they would. Just like he had known to avoid the peas Dudley threw at him at lunch the day before and duck the water spray when Petunia had forgotten she had activated the kitchen hand faucet.

It didn't stop there. Premonitions were not the only weird things happening to him. Doors opened before he could grab the handle, his shirt looked wrinkled but once he had it on, it looked like it had been recently ironed. Harry was a bit confused as it felt like his magic was over reacting but as no new warnings had arrived from the Ministry, he figured what the hell. Go with the flow. He had always liked magic, it was good to see magic liked him back.

The night was blissfully quiet, the Dursleys driving to get their pretty lawn trophy. Harry had ample time to pack his trunk and watch some telly before the house was broken into. At eight o'clock bunch of Order members filled the house through the locked backdoor, he didn't recognize half of them.

Harry was ready to have some fun and Mad Eye Moody just managed to see him with his weird eye and duck but the stuffy looking woman behind him didn't and the frying pan made her wheeze and double up as it smacked her in her middle. Not even Moody was fast enough to duck the backwards swing aiming at his wand hand. Moody's wand flew right out of the kitchen and Harry twirled the pan.

"Now who wants some more," he raised the pan again, ready to smack them some more. They were all clumped together without any room to move. "You burglars better not go for your wands!"

"Harry! It's me, Remus," the wolf shouted panicked. "We've come to take you away."

"As if!" Harry answered back and smacked the pan to the wall right next a short man who had obviously tried to get his wand out. "Just try it!" Harry threatened him.

"You lot just broke into my house. That was a big mistake. I ain't going nowhere with your say so!"

"Your patronus is a stag and I had a Grindylow in a tank in my class room when I first met you at the school. I helped you with the Dementor in the train before that! Snuffles was with me this summer," Remus talked so fast he was mumbling, just throwing things only he should know out there.

Harry leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He looked at them shrewdly.

"I guess it could be you then. I'm not so sure about Moody. Wouldn't be the first time he is used for polyjuice."

The grizzly man grinned. "That's the way! A little heavy on the hardware but he's got it right!"

Harry thought the man was at least half-insane.

"That's so not okay Mad-Eye. He hit poor Dorcas with a frying pan!" A violet-haired woman whined.

"Hasn't you mum ever hit you then? My aunt has hit me plenty. It doesn't hurt that much," Harry pointed at the woman still bend double. The violet haired woman gaped at him.

"Erhm," Remus cleared his voice and took a step forward. "How are you, Harry?"

"Peachy. Could be better, could be worse."

Harry looked at the people surrounding Moody, everyone was staring at him.

"Surprising number of people volunteered to come and escort you," Lupin said with his mouth twitching.

"We're your guard, lad," Moody stated and then pointed each one and said their name. "Tonks – Diggle – Shacklebolt – Doge – Vance – Dorcas that you hit – Jones - Mackey and of course you already know Lupin."

Harry turned to Remus. "So what's this taking me away thing about? I've been sitting here pretty comfy all summer. No ones talking to me, I am not talking to them, Dementors visit occasionally, you know, the normal stuff."

"Eep," Vance squealed hearing the word Dementor and dropped the china cup she was holding. One of the good ones aunt Petunia only put out during Sundays for special guests.

"Right professional knights then," Harry muttered.

Remus obviously heard it. "Yes well."

It took them an age to get through the small talk. Harry kept on asking questions and commenting on things until he grew bored. By that time one of the "guard" had decided to snack from the fridge, Moody was getting really antsy and Remus looked a bit depressed. Harry hadn't had this much fun in weeks. Finally they were all outside with brooms on their hands, Harry's trunk minimized in someone´s pocket.

"Alright you lot, we´re way behind schedule. Get on your brooms and head towards south in the formation we agreed upon!" Moody shouted and began to lead the fleet.

"South?" Harry mouthed at Remus over the wind. "Where are we going?"

"To the Order headquarters," Remus shouted.

"But south? Are we heading to France?"

"Stop shouting our destination to all and sundry," Moody suddenly appeared behind Remus. "Of course we´re not taking the straight route. We must first loose any followers!"

Harry looked around. There was only night sky everywhere, few muggle cars way below them. "Who?"

"You never know. Now fly!" Moody shouted and spurted ahead of them.

Harry looked at Remus incredulously. The wolf just shrugged back.

They had been flying an hour at least and Harry was starting to get frostbites. The air up at the higher altitude was nippy. To warm up he tried out some of the more tame quidditch rolls.

"Oi you, stop that!" The thin wizard Moody had introduced as Mackey ordered. It was his turn to fly next to Harry.


"This is not a Ministry sanctioned fly by. The muggles could spot us any minute. You should do as you are told!" Mackey sniffed.

Harry was not surprised. This wizard had been looking at everything muggle by his nose all evening. Harry in particular. As if he was something nasty stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Mackey had walked around the Number Four like the whole place was filled with germs. He had sniffed at everything Remus said, he had loudly disagreed when the violet haired young auror was to lead the way because young women should not fly nor wear trousers. He had not spoken one word to Harry before this, only sneered. What he was doing with Dumbledore´s troop was a mystery to Harry or why the man had even accompanied them to get him.

"The Ministry has been real reasonable this summer. Lying about me and printing dirty insinuations at least three times a week in that rag they call a newspaper!" Harry snorted back. "I don't really care if there is a form to get permission for a broom fly or not."

Mackey was turning red. "What insolence! The ministry is trying to calm the people after your fear mongering and this is your attitude? You spit on them and the rules they have created for our protection!" He ranted and Harry got the feeling this was not the first time the subject had come up.

"The Ministry is just stuffing their head in the sand, the Minister in particular. He would serve us to Voldemort on a silver platter if that meant he could keep his shiny position where he can accept all the bribes he wants from the likes of Malfoy and line his pockets with gold." Harry couldn´t help but to stir the man some more. He was a ministry toady, an idiot of the highest grade. Harry had long since gone way beyond of just being annoyed by all the Ministry was doing against him. The articles this summer had simply been the last drop.

Mackey was turning purple and his nose was making a whistling noise. He was like a teapot overboiling.

"And just look at this Dementor incident. They obviously sent the Dementors after me, trying to silence me permanen –"

"Obviously not doing a good enough of work since you´re still here mouthing off! Futulio!" Mackey shouted at Harry who was too close to dodge. The yellow blast from the man´s wand hit Harry´s broom, making if falter and then plummet.

It took only a moment for Harry´s broom to make a violent spin, taking him towards the ground on a speed that was deadly if the height was not enough. There was very little for him to do except to curse the man and the rest of his so called guards. The other Order members were too far to realize there was a problem, even less to help him. His wand was still in his trunk where Lupin had wanted him to put it. He couldn't very well jump off his broom which was the only chance he had to survive. If he had to choose to fall without a broom or a broken broom, he would always choose the broom.

"Dammit," Harry cursed as his last words, seeing what an idiot he had been, when the ground met him in a hard crash.


Harry woke up to feeling his neck was cracking. It was a decidedly odd feeling. He lifted his hand to feel around his throat and gurgled in panic.

His neck! It was not there or rather it was but it was all broken. His bones must´ve shattered as he could feel sharp bones protruding all around his throat. He couldn't breath!

CRACK! The horrible noise made him want to vomit but then he could suddenly take a breath.

"Urg!" He groaned. What was going on?

Suddenly he felt different, larger and wider. It was as if he was being stretched. He had been packaged inside a small match box when he was the size of a horse, of an elephant, of a blue whale. It didn't stop. The whole Universe was filling him and surprisingly there was room enough. He could feel that there were souls abound, reapers moving few miles east, muggle souls moved through his consciousness in a never-ending stream. He suddenly knew the Moon, the Sun and the vastness of space between the stars. He looked at his hands as his neck made another loud crunching sound. He remembered who he was. He remembered everything.

"That motherfucker made me break my neck!" Harry cursed. "Fifteen years, FIFTEEN BLOODY YEARS ONLY!" His voice turned chilly and a fleet or birds was alarmed out of their sleep and took a flight in the night, away from him and his fury.

Harry´s agitated magic flared around him, healing the rest of his injuries. No healer could yet do what he was doing. There was no cure for death. Might be one day, depending on what directions he would decide to go this time.

"Fifteen bloody years," He muttered. Outwardly he looked calm but inside there was a cold inferno. He stretched his neck out and cursed some more. This was going to be a shock to this body. It always took a while to accommodate the Master of Death. It was easier the older he was when he died.

"Let´s see…" Harry began to think back on his life and compared it to the dozen others he had lived like this. "The Dursleys. Check. The Gryffindor. Check. Basilisk and Tri-wizard. Check. The Horcrux… Not there. Hmm… The Dementors. Tricky little buggers. I have to visit them soon. But first things first." He flicked his finger at his broken broom and it melted together. It didn´t look brand new but neither was it splintered to ten thousand pieces.

"Oh, this time I am gonna have some fun!" He smirked and grabbed the broom. Fleetingly he wondered if his age of dying affected him. He didn't feel like being very serious right now. He began walking out of the woods and headed towards where he could hear voices arguing.