Chapter 1

It had happened again. Wizarding Europe had destroyed itself, for the ninth time in a row. The air was crisp, the leaves were a beautiful red as autumn set in as they fluttered around the sidewalks. Harriet Potter sat slumped on a park bench, her dark hair short and disheveled, sticking up in the all the wrong places. There was a clear splatter of blood on her pale blue blouse, her breathing coming out in short labored huffs. She had spent her entire life trying to save the wizarding world from itself and it had still amounted to nothing, again.

Muggles passed by without even a glance in her direction. Notice-me-not charms had their perks and Harriet was enjoying every second of it because she knew He was coming to talk to her and she honestly didn't feel like putting up with her partner. At twenty-five she shouldn't have fought through two different wars, only to be brought into a third one. And, she hated dealing with Him…

Especially when she was slowly bleeding out.

He was going to be very…disappointed, again.


Regardless, she felt a presence next to her, she forced her eyes open and saw the hooded deity she most dreaded meeting today, Death.

"You didn't stop it from happening," Death's voice echoed ominously, at least that's what Harriet assumed he was going for. His voice was more grating than eerie to her at this point. Nine lives spent dealing with Death tended to do that to a person.

"Not like you helped. I saved everyone I could, but multiple megalomaniac Dark Lords within less than fifty years of each other really ruined any chance of repopulating," she ground out through clenched teeth. She was nearly positive that one, if not multiple, of her organs was shutting down.

"I thought you would have gotten it right this time. This was your ninth attempt at saving your magical world," he replied, either not picking up on her sarcasm or he was just choosing to ignore her.

Ninth time going through the same life, making small changes here and there to make the best outcome possible for the future, trying to preserve the wizarding race. It was proving impossible. There just wasn't enough time. "You know, there's a saying that if you do the same thing over and over and expect a different result, you're insane. I'm beginning to believe that they're right."

There was a sigh from the deity next to her. He was just as tired of this as she was. There were only so many times that he could send her back into the past in hopes of keeping magic in Europe alive. Harriet was just born too late into this mess for anything to come out of it. This had proven it. No matter what she changed, no one would take the words of a child all that seriously and by the time she was old enough, wizarding Europe would be too far inbred to stop their imminent destruction.

"I really thought that you had it this time. The laws you had set in motion should have worked."

She groaned, feeling the stab wound in her side throb. She wasn't going to live much longer. "There just isn't enough time. If the laws had been passed forty years earlier yes, but there just aren't enough magically strong enough individuals to repopulate the gifts that were lost."

Death turns to her, his soulless eyes boring into hers and for a moment Harriet swears she sees something akin to excitement in them.

"Time…you need more time."

"Yes, I've been saying that for the past three rewinds. You always said that there was nothing you could do about it. None of my ancestors met your qualifications for my soul or some other rubbish gibberish," she replied, but before she could get another word out she began to cough, a bit of blood came out.

Ah, her lung must have been punctured.

"There is one that I can think of, but she was…damaged… greatly before her death. I could give you her body, but there could be complications."

"Like what?" She asked with a wheeze, her lung beginning to drown her.

"Oh, you'll see. You, my dear, dear, Master, are out of time," he replied before Harriet felt her soul leave her body for the ninth time.

When Harriet came to some kind of consciousness she was in a grey space, floating through the ether. Nothingness surrounded her at all sides. She waited a moment for Death to come back and explain himself. He didn't disappoint as he materialized in front her.

His hood was still pulled up and his traditional scythe was in his hand. Death, as always, was a walking cliché. "Care to explain where," she motioned to the nothingness around them by waving her arms in a rather exaggerated manner, "this is."

Death chuckled, causing the hair on the back her neck to stand on end. She hadn't heard him laugh before. What idea had she given him?

Jeez, she needed to stop influencing him. Death had been so quiet when she had first met him and now he liked teasing her, the bastard.

Death swung an arm out gesturing to the nothingness. "This is the slowly decaying mindscape of your new vessel. She was one of the potential Masters of Death that never fulfilled their destiny. She was captured by a group of purebloods that ran a magical child dueling ring. Death Eaters killed her in a raid when she was fourteen. She was a vicious fighter, but she hadn't lost all of her humanity, she was perfect, but there was nothing I could do to save her."

Harriet was supposed to take over this girl's life? This was one of the sickest things that Death had asked of her. "How am I supposed to step into this girl's life?" There were so many things that Harriet wouldn't know about her. Someone would figure out that there was something wrong with her. She'd end up in the mental ward in St. Mungo's.

There were too many holes in this plan. When was this girl even born? How was she going even survive the post attack? Would she be left in the carnage of the injured and dying? Would this just be a painful waste of a trip back in time?

"You see, that's why I brought you here. This is the space where humans tend to see their lives pass before their eyes. You will be stepping into this girl's mind while she vacates."

"Wait a minute-"

He began to wave his hands, "Pay attention."

Suddenly, there was gravity pressing against her, with nothing underneath her. She caught of glimpse of Death's mouth. The shit-head was grinning.

Harriet fell into the nothingness with a scream.

It was like watching a movie, seeing pieces of a past that wasn't your own. The vessel's name was Jasmine, she was born in Austria, she was the last of the main branch of the Peverell line. Her father, Matthew, had moved from England to Austria when he was child with her grandparents to throw off Grindelwald. He had hunted down and murdered the majority of the Peverell family and they decided to hide right under the mad man's nose in his home country of Austria.

It had worked, and the family survived, for a time.

Jasmine remembered the stories that her father would tell her at night, the way he met her mother and about his research.

Jasmine's father had fallen in love and married a young witch named Elizabeth Brunner. They'd met while he was researching squibs and her future squib aunt, Anna, had agreed to an interview. Anna had been bit by a werewolf when she was young and even though she didn't have active magic, she was still magical enough to survive the bite and transform monthly.

It had been love at first sight and they married shortly after, and three years later Jasmine was born. Harriet watched her grow up in a loving household for the first eight years of life, until her parents died in a rather gruesome car crash. Jasmine always knew it was a staged accident. Her father had always told her that his research was experimental and tended to make people angry. He was attempting to prove that magical purity was poisoning the wizarding world and by looking at the squibs and muggleborns he could prove that no magic was stolen and having children with muggles didn't destroy magic but brought out the rarest of magical gifts. He had warned her that powerful purebloods didn't like it. So, he gave her his research, hidden in a family locket she was never to take off, and she never did.

And, when people searched and nearly destroyed the house during their funeral, Jasmine had never been happier to have the locket around her neck and away from prying eyes.

After that, she was sent to live with her aunt, who despite her monthly affliction loved her niece very much, but their happiness only lasted a year before she was murdered for being a werewolf by purebloods that would soon become her dueling patrons.

It had been a quiet night. The full moon was in three days, so Jasmine was getting the house ready for her aunt to stay in the basement while she rampaged around in her feral furry fury. That's when she saw the lights of wands in the distance and she quickly packed everything she could find into the locket around her neck. She called for her aunt, but she was too weak to move quickly, and the wizards were on top of them before they could get to the car.

The lead wizard killed her aunt with a single killing curse.

Jasmine screamed, but nothing changed, her aunt was dead, and the wizards turned their attention onto her. They gave her a single glance before the one in charge told her, in English, "grab a bag and pack your things. You have five minutes."

Harriet watched as the young girl rushed up the stairs and put her clothing into the backpack that she took to school and some books her mother left for her. Anything truly important was in her necklace.

The scene jumped, jarring Harriet, but she was put into a different bedroom, one that was rather opulent. Jasmine was crying her heart out. Information flooded Harriet's mind as she realized that this was the day after they'd taken her. She had woken up in a strange house, the door locked. It wasn't long before her abductors came into the room. One man and one woman. They were tall and imposing, primely dressed in wine red robes, not a hair out of place on either of their heads.

Jasmine was plastered against the far wall, trying to keep as much distance between them and her as possible. "Why am I here? Where am I?" She cried, wiping away stray tears her English a near garbled mess under her Austrian accent.

"Stop your crying, child. As of today, you are a ward to the house of Chester. You are going to be trained to win in battle or die trying," the woman snapped, her wand out in an instant. Jasmine cringed and hunched in on her herself, waiting for the attack. The man put a hand on the woman's wrist, lowing her wand.

"Now, Mary, don't attack her yet. We can't damage our goods. This girl will be strong, but we can't break her. Not like the last one."

Jasmine didn't know what those words meant in that moment, but she learned quickly.

Images flashed before Harriet's eyes watching as Jasmine trained to fight with the Chesters. She watched as Jasmine's left eyes was permanently damaged by one of Arnold's stray curses and the way they "fixed" it by burning a rune near it. She watched as Jasmine fought against other young witches and wizards in the same predicament as her. Watched as she fought her way up the ranks, maiming, injuring and nearly killing various other participants.

Years passed, and nothing changed. Until a ministry woman showed up in disguise during one of the tournament weekends at the Chester's manor. She had cornered Jasmine while she was waiting to fight. Occasionally, certain patrons would talk to the advanced fighters, so they could place better bets. It also showed that the patrons had total control of their fighters, since they didn't run. They'd excepted their fate.

The young woman introduced herself as Amelia Bones. She promised she'd help and Jasmine didn't dare hope that someone had finally found them. All the kids were going to get out this never-ending hell. The woman told her that within the next few days someone would be coming to arrest the patrons.

Amelia's aid didn't come fast enough, because Voldemort raided the Manor first, killing everyone inside.

Harriet saw this vicious girl kill various Death Eaters and quite a few patrons while they weren't paying attention. Many of the advanced fighters were being used as human shields against the Death Eaters.

Two bright green lights raced towards her and then Harriet was back to the nothingness, expect this time, Jasmine was in front of her. They looked surprisingly similar in appearance, Jasmine had the same dark hair, though hers was significantly longer, her face shape was similar, her eyes were different, a bright blue, but she was young, about fourteen and it was sad to see she died so young. It seemed that Death had a certain type when he picked a chosen master.

"So, your Death's chosen?" She asked, a slight Austrian accent peppered her words, a smirk on her face.

"Apparently, do you mind me taking over from here?"

"As long as you save the kids in the manor. They're in the lower cellar. Death owes me for letting you take over. Consider saving the lives of my friends repayment for taking my body. Remember this for me, Harriet," she begged her blue eyes wide and pleading.

"I will, don't worry," Harriet replied as she attempted to move forward to embrace the girl in front of her, but she stepped backwards.

"Hold my memories tight, you're Jasmine Peverell. Now, wake up."

Harri-no- Jasmine fell into darkness.