212Chapter -2
Harry Potter opened his eyes slowly and found himself on the white King's Cross station for the second time in his life, err, death, or…whatever. The cloudy bright mist surrounding him seemed to emanate from everywhere but still, it wasn't hiding anything. He could still see several trains standing on the platforms. But there weren't any people. He wondered why his death always takes place in a train station of all places.
He looked down and found himself to be naked once again. He quickly thought of himself in clothes to preserve a decorum of modesty from whomever was coming to receive him this time.
He hoped it wasn't Dumbledore.
The old man was enough for once. The last time had made him understand that not even death could change Dumbledore. He was in so much shock at the events of that night that he had forgotten his anger at his supposed mentor who was preparing him for slaughter right from his birth. He didn't know if he'd be able to keep such control over himself this time.
As he waited for his company, he thought back to the betrayal he had very recently received from his wife.
He had to give it to her. She was an amazing actress. All those gooey eyes for years, proclamations of eternal love and promises of never ending happiness were enough to fool him and hide her true nature.
Little Demon.
What he couldn't fathom was the implication that Draco Fucking Malfoy was better in bed than him, Harry Potter. Oh yes! She must have always wanted a fucker when he tried to give her gentle, caring love. Oh, how he treated her like a fragile doll and how the bitch crushed him without a second thought.
And Ron!
He should have known. The man can't get over his fucking jealousy. Years of friendship mattered so bloody little to him that he never hesitated to plunge a dagger in his best mate. What the hell was he thinking when he decided to make friends with the pig. Oh Hermione, dear Hermione, she will have to spend a lifetime with him. He wished he could do something to save her.
The pig took Draco bloody Malfoy, his lifetime nemesis, over his supposed best friend.
And that harpy, Molly Weasley, the woman must have proclaimed him as her son hundreds of times.
He's as good as my son, my fuck.
Percy, he could understand. The guy was never trustworthy. He had always known that Percy Weasley could sell his own family to gain a miniscule amount of profit. But this was a low, even for him. A planned cold blooded murder.
My God. Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
For the first time, Harry Potter cursed Arthur Weasley for marrying that harlot. How did the man thought her capable of mothering so many children. Oh yes, he was a fool too. Just like himself. He must have been easy with a love potion. And the man must have presented himself to her as a sacrifice when she got pregnant with his child.
At least, some children gained Arthur's traits. Mr. Weasley should have stopped after five kids.
Harry wouldn't have died if he had. Murdered. Percy alone wouldn't have the guts to do something like this.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Harry looked up to see that a figure was approaching him from a distance. But for the life of him, he couldn't place it as anyone he had even remotely known.
The figure was covered in all black and a hood covered the head, enough to throw a dark shadow which left only the portion below the nose to be seen. The skin seemed to be absolute white and to Harry's horror, the lips were absolute black. Those black lips were curled up in a smile which screamed 'danger'. The figure held a big scythe in its left hand and completed the classic Death's look.
The figure stopped in front of Harry and it seemed he it waiting for something. Harry realized that he would have to start the conversation and did so with the obvious question.
"Death?"
Death nodded its head.
"Um, can't you be a little less intimidating? I would have believed you without the getup."
Death's smile vanished and converted to a scowl.
"You dare speak to me like that, mortal?" Its voice was hoarse, grating and sweet at the same time. Harry couldn't have believed it possible if he himself hadn't heard it. It carried a strange hypnotic lilt to it.
"No offence." Harry replied softly.
Death nodded stiffly.
"Do you know why you are here, mortal?"
"Err…because I died?"
"Because you have been chosen by my three hallows."
Harry's mind raced. Hallows. This was all about them. But he had already given them up. The wand was back in the old man's tomb and the stone was lost in the forest. He only had his cloak and that too wasn't present at the time of his death.
"I'm still the Master of Death?" he asked nervously. It seemed odd to him that he could be the master of the sinister and powerful entity that stood before him.
The cloaked figure laughed. It was a chilling laugh which sent shivers up his spine.
"No…and yes."
"Sir, can you please explain it all at once?" Harry asked irritatingly. It wasn't everyday that he had a conversation with Death, so he was decidedly feeling a little overwhelmed. He hoped he had not offended the immortal being with his tone, but to his relief, Death only nodded.
"No one rules me mortal. No one. I am absolute. I am divine. I am the conclusion of all species and I am the Master of All." Death paused to let it sink in his head. "My three gifts were given to three brothers who called me forth in a time of need and assistance. They worked hard and they worked together to gain my favour. To each, I gave a gift of power beyond comprehension of any mortal. But it was a power for the worthy. The three brothers who gained my favour with unity stopped being worthy of my gifts when they broke their links with each other and drifted apart. My hallows were separated. You, mortal, combined them all and were found worthy. It does not matter where they went after that. You had already gained their allegiance. You became the Master of your own death."
Harry was speechless. After a minute of tense silence, he finally asked, "So I can't die?"
"You can. You are dead right now. But -"
"But?"
"But I can give you one chance. One chance to make it better. One chance to correct your mistakes. One chance to take your revenge."
Harry gulped. This was too good to be true. If death was really as truthful as he was dramatic, then…but there had to be a catch.
"So I can go back."
"Not the exact time. Your body cannot be healed. But you can go back to any specific time of your life. Whether it be two seconds before your death or the day of your birth."
"And I will remember all this?" Harry questioned, excited at this turn of events.
"Yes. Your soul will merge with your previous self."
"But wouldn't that change history. I mean I could change everything."
"That is the power of my hallows mortal."
Harry was about to fall from the shock of it all when he landed on a chair. He gave a long sigh and chuckled. He realized that the bluff he called on Draco Malfoy just before dying was no more a bluff. He really could go back from being dead.
"What will happen to the foreign soul piece in my head if I go back?" he again asked the very helpful entity standing before him.
"It will be ejected," Death answered helpfully.
"What will happen to the hallows?"
"There will be no more hallows. That is the cost to send back your soul."
"Wait a minute." He was confused. "If you send me back in time, how the hell does it erase the hallows from existence? I mean, our whole history would be altered if there is no Elder wand."
Death paused. It had probably forgotten this one detail in its excitement over being free. "True. But you are mistaken. I will only take back the power of my hallows at the moment of your return."
"Power?"
"Yes. The wand will remain but it will be just another wand with elder wood and thestral hair. The stone will remain but it will not be able to recall the dead. And the cloak will be just another invisibility cloak, its power receding over time."
Harry thought about his next plan of action. He could go back and change everything. He could save so many lives. And he could take his revenge on those who betrayed him.
But where or more precisely, when shall he go? Harry realized with a jolt that he could save his parents and live a life he had wished to live forever. But can he save them from Voldemort when he is just an infant. Plus, he didn't want to disturb their peace. They will wait for him, they had said.
But he could definitely save Sirius. And Remus, Tonks, and Fred. And countless others. He could shove Dumbledore's manipulations in his arse. And he could build a new life for himself.
But there were problems. With no Elder wand, defeating Voldemort wouldn't be easy. He'd have to be beaten nice and fair. And that would take time.
Not seven years though. He did not want to go through ALL of that once again. Third year then, maybe? No. Saving Sirius was a close thing. Anything could go wrong with those cute little dementors on the loose and he won't be getting anymore chances.
Plus, he would hate to repeat those thrice damned tasks. No. So, it has to be the fifth, maybe in the hall of prophecies.
His decision made, he stood up and bowed.
"I have made my decision. What shall I do to go back?"
Death gestured forwards towards a train.
Harry nodded and made his way over there. He was just about to board the express when he turned and asked,
"When will we meet again?"
Death gave a short laugh. Harry didn't know why but it seemed a little less cold now, a little more genuine.
"Not for a long time, Harry Potter."
Harry smiled. Death was finally using his given name. It wasn't so bad after all.
And he boarded the train that would change History forever.
"Good luck, Harry Potter. To your next great adventure."
Harry will jump back in time. To when? We'll see...Thanks for reading.