120Disclaimer: I don't make claim to any ownership over the Harry Potter franchise and any of the characters, settings, or plot recognized in this story as they belong to J.K Rowling.
—
Harry Potter and the Art of Respawning
By PaladinKaladin
—
Prologue:
Death
31st October 1981
Albus Dumbledore could feel his age nearly double as he gently opened the door to the cottage in front of him. The small house was completely regular from the outside, not giving any sign that anything strange had occurred in its premise.
But he not only knew the truth, but he could also feel it.
For a great tragedy occurred.
The evening itself he had been on active duty, not as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but as the sworn leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Death Eaters weren't a major issue for the old wizard, but the underlying meaning behind them was. Why would Voldemort send a large platoon of wizards for a direct attack at Knockturn Alley in the middle of a greatly intensifying war?
It was purely a distraction to make way for the only true threat Voldemort faced—the Potters. By the time Dumbledore had realized, it was too late. One couldn't blame the man, for he thought the secret of the Potter's location was kept a great secret by none other than Sirius Black, a devoted member of the Order and a friend many would beg for.
But the benevolent Dumbeldore could not have predicted such a betrayal.
It was truly the turning point of the war—whatever laid behind the doors he opened would show which way it turned, however. Yet the sudden disappearance of the Dark Lord and the lingering, ancient magic around the house wasn't merely a coincidence. Dumbledore had long since forgotten the meaning of a coincidence when it came to Voldemort.
He set up a couple of quick detection and protection wards around the house before making his way through.
He came to the sight of a large disheveled, mess of a room. Chairs scattered everywhere, splinters of wood and fragments of brick having been thrown around in the encounter which had happened before he entered.
And the sight of an unmoving James.
Rennervate.
Dumbeldore cast the spell merely with a wave of a hand, sighing in relief as the Potter awoke with a gasp.
"Al-Albus?" James whispered, his voice unsteady and low, a far cry from the usually boisterous Auror. He slowly got to his feet, wincing slightly as he did so. "What happened?"
Dumbledore could only say one word. "Voldemort."
James' eyes widened. "The kids!"
The senior Auror immediately bolted for the stairs, or tried to, as he fell on his face a moment later, groaning.
"Please stay here for a moment—you clearly are not well. I'll check for you," Dumbledore said gravely, feeling sorry for the state of the Potter.
"But Lily and the kids—"
"Alas, I'm here, am I not? I will see what happened, James. You seem slightly hurt, but nothing major. Episkey. I recommend you do not keep your hopes up. This is the Dark Lord Voldemort after all…" Dumbledore trailed off as made his way upstairs.
The elder wizard could feel he was getting closer to the source of ambient magic as he made his way upwards. He opened the door and…
"Waaaaa…"
Two babies cried in their carriages as another person came into their room.
Dumbledore instantly winced as he saw the dead body of Lily Potter in the corner of the room, her eyes opened wide at the time and after her death. Her eyes, a deep green, didn't seem as bright as before.
He rushed towards the babies in concern, looking to see whether or not they were injured in the slightest. The two heads of black hair looked at him curiously but did not stop their incessant crying in the slightest.
Dumbledore looked at the deep scar on one of the boy's foreheads. It was reeking of magic.
He looked over at Lily's dead body.
It couldn't be…
|—-|
James paced back and forth as he tried to process all his thoughts at once. The upcoming conversation with Dumbledore was going to be tough, but a well-needed one as well. The renowned wizard had promptly left immediately after he had checked the room above, after telling James about what had happened.
His thoughts lingered back to Lily before he shook them off once again. His eyes, red and puffy from crying, were worn out entirely. But he thought back to the kids—no, he needed to stay strong.
Dumbledore appeared through a swish of green flames as he came through the Floo. "James."
"Albus! What happened?" James asked urgently.
Dumbledore paused. "Voldemort…is gone."
"W-what?" James stuttered, his mind blanking immediately.
The sentence itself was so bizarre, so jarring to hear. The Dark Lord…vanquished? How? When?
"Gone. Vanquished. By none other than our dear Lily, in fact."
James's eyes widened for the tenth time that day. "Lily? What does she have to do with this? How?"
The other wizard smiled comfortingly. "Do not fret, James. Please listen to what I'm saying carefully. Voldemort attempted to kill both the children this day itself, but quite thankfully, failed entirely. Reports say that he must have cast a killing curse on Charles—"
James let out a sudden breath of air as he felt his knees buckle slightly. "Wait, please. There's a gap in your story. How did Voldemort even get the location of our home? Sirius would never—"
"Sirius is a traitor," Dumbledore mentioned frankly. "A terrible, unpredictable betrayal, but a betrayal nonetheless."
"Sirius?! He would never have done such a thing. It must have been a mistake! I have to go talk with him immediately," James spoke rapidly, continuing to pace back and forth.
"Please, James. We will talk with Sirius eventually, but he does not have major importance currently. He has admitted his own I beg of you James, listen to what I have to say. Your own kids' futures depend on this," Dumbledore began heavily, peering straight into James' eyes.
James looked away sharply for several reasons.
He began once again. "Let me continue from where I left off. Voldemort cast a killing curse on one of the kids, and from what I can tell, it's Charles. Harry doesn't seem to have been affected at all, a good sign for sure. Now, before you interrupt, I'll answer the burning question: how is Charles alive? It must've been Lily. It's ancient, old magic that even I couldn't perform at will, since the primary source to its power is the issuing of a sacrifice. But that is besides the point. Charles has, undoubtedly, survived the killing curse itself."
"Survive? The killing curse?" James inquired, extremely confused by the old man's ramblings.
"Yes. Not only has he survived the curse, but it also seems to have been rebounded and hit Voldemort directly, a very, very fortunate turn of events."
James eyed his son with wonder. He was currently still in the carriage, sleeping after a long night. "Is he really gone?"
The Auror personally couldn't believe it. After a decade of all-out war, it all ended due to a baby in a crib? He chuckled quietly in disbelief.
Dumbledore sighed. "For the moment, yes. Never underestimate Voldemort, James. We happened to do that at the beginning of the war, and look where that got us."
James nodded in agreement. The fact was, they were losing the war. Voldemort had much fewer men at his disposal but was far more organized at war. The ministry, at one point, had more Death Eaters than actual employees, until the entire situation was blown out by James and Sirius. The Dark Lord knew his weaknesses and made a point to block out each one of them. Seeking allies from other magical races, attempting hellish, unknown magic never seen before by the ordinary wizard, and having a no-mercy policy—there was a reason why he was known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
And yet, he was defeated by a recently born infant.
"Whether you like it or not, the Ministry will be hailing Charles as a hero. The one who vanquished the Dark Lord, they say. 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', I believe, was the title they were using."
James could feel his anger rising. "NO! I can't let this happen, Albus. Our family has suffered enough. Let me speak with the so-called ministry, I'm sure I can twist some strings somehow."
"James," Dumbledore admonished. "The Wizarding World is in ruins. You know this, I know this, everyone in the Order knows this despite whether or not the ministry wants to deny it. What they need now, my boy, is a hero. Someone who can inspire hope back into our society. Charles has survived the killing curse, and consequently, Voldemort is gone—all of this can be used to help the people."
"I want Charles and Harry to grow up normally, to have a normal life! That's all I and L-Lily ever wanted! Now you want me to thrust my sons into a life of stardom?" James questioned, voice full of quiet rage.
"Son, actually. Harry can still perfectly live a normal life, away from the incoming storm," Dumbledore countered. "Charles will need to learn many things. Magic, speech, and most importantly, surviving. He became the undisputed Child of Prophecy the moment Voldemort attacked him, I'm afraid."
"And why can't Harry come with us?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, a tang of regret present. "As unfortunate as it sounds, our main focus right now is Charles. Every second of his life will be him living in danger, especially until he gets to Hogwarts. Some would be trying to get vengeance for their master, and others simply might hate you."
"There's nowhere else for Harry to live…"
"I believe Lily had a sister, did she not? Petunia?"
James' mind wandered to the wizard-hating muggle that was Lily's sister. "NO! I will not allow my son to live with those, those muggles!"
Dumbledore winced. "I also scarcely remember her sister not being…particularly pleasant, but her own sister died, James. Even she will feel sympathy for the baby, and I trust she will raise Harry like her own. It is true Harry will grow away from wizarding society, but it is better than the threat of death. Just imagine him being used as a hostage to barter for Charles, which I believe is certainly a usable method for the Death Eaters."
"B-but, how can I leave Harry alone? And for how long? Until he's of age for Hogwarts?" James asked, noting Dumbledore's nod of agreement. "I'm not sure, Albus. Couldn't I send him to Peter or Remus instead?"
The spectacled wizard shook his head. "We both know Remus is in no condition to raise a child, James. As for Peter…it is a viable choice, but he is too close to the wizarding world and you. The risk is too high. Regardless, the main reason for sending Harry to his aunt is because the protection Lily would be stronger with his blood relatives. The magic used was sacrificial and tied to Lily's own love and blood, and this then would be carried over to Petunia's home."
At that point, the senior Auror's mind was set.
Harry James Potter was going to Petunia's house. Where he would live a happy, welcoming life full of all the joy a kid like him deserved. He would grow up a little spoiled but would have a good heart inside.
Yes, that sounds good. James thought, smiling.
But he knew Dumbledore was keen to not mention something.
The real reason why he was splitting apart.
The secret, last two lines of the Prophecy:
Once the twins battle, the world will burn bright.
Leaving the remainder to rule over the ashes.
26th June 1991
"Freak! Get up and make breakfast!"
Harry opened his eyes slowly as he tried to stretch his legs and arms. Well, that clearly wouldn't do in a cupboard of all places. Groaning at the sudden pain in his legs, he got up. He winced at the blurriness surrounding him, thoughtlessly reaching for his glasses at the corner of his bedsheet.
He neatly folded up his makeshift bed and placed it in the corner of his room.
Well, another day of Summer, here I come. Harry thought, trying to motivate himself.
He got ready and changed into proper clothes, before darting for the kitchen.
"You're late," Aunt Petunia mentioned from the living room., turning on the television.
Harry winced as he heard her shrieking voice first thing in the morning. Her voice has to be some sort of bad luck charm.
"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry mumbled, trying to sound as apologetic as possible. Which wasn't hard after years of doing so.
Harry placed the sausages and eggs on the pan, eager to get done with the food already. A sprinkle of salt and pepper, and done.
The raven-haired boy calmly placed the serving plates and food on the dinner table, before sitting on the sofa relaxingly.
He couldn't really complain too much about how he was treated lately. The Dursleys, while an annoying bunch, certainly saw the use of keeping Harry in the house. He was their maid who did a couple of chores here and there, and in return gave him shelter, food, and clothes. Others may have raised Harry properly in pity at the very least, but Petunia and Vernon simply viewed it as a business deal.
And thus, Harry's life wasn't so special, to say the least. He didn't have much, well, any friends at school, but that didn't really matter too much for the boy. Sure, Dudley sometimes attempted to bully him, but he was too quick for the chubby teen and his friends to actually do something to him. And sometimes he had a few moments in his life where things could only be described as magic, but he tried to ignore those things entirely.
He still wasn't sure whether or not he was hallucinating when he talked to the snake in the zoo. That was certainly a magical day, even though it resulted in a few scoldings from Petunia, who believed Dudley entirely when he explained it was somehow Harry's fault.
Dudley and Vernon slowly made their way into the hall, the latter picking up the daily newspaper by their porch and the former taking the remote from his mother.
Swish!
Once Harry heard the post office ring their house, his immediate instinct was to go get it. He forced his legs down.
"Dudley, get the mail please," Uncle Vernon instructed from his seat.
Dudley whined. "Make Harry do it!"
At this point, Harry knew that there was no point in arguing. The chances of him winning an argument against Dudley of all people in the presence of his aunt and uncle were quite literally zero.
"I'll get it."
The doormat was littered with a plethora of letters as Harry shuffled through the papers gently. An advertisement, postcard from Marge, payment receipts, and…
Huh?
Something was directed to him? That couldn't be possible. Who in their right mind would write to him of all people? He didn't actually have anyone who would write to him for fun, did he? Harry wracked his mind for any answers, but it came predictably empty. He looked at the green ink which made the address.
Mr. H. Potter,
The Cupboard Under The Stairs,
4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging,
Surrey
"How much longer, boy?" Uncle Vernon yelled. "Get in here!"
Harry looked curiously one more time at the letter, before entering the house.
He quickly handed over the other papers to Vernon, but slightly hesitated with the final letter. It was addressed to him, so why should he give it to his Uncle? Regardless of his decision, his Uncle saw it anyway. The sudden manner in which Uncle Vernon's face turned green was amusing, but it definitely wouldn't serve well to laugh in front of his face.
He squinted his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he saw. "W-what?"
Harry looked at the letter in his right hand. "What?"
"Give me that letter, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted, ripping away the paper from the much skinnier boy's hands.
"Petunia!"
Aunt Petunia rushed into the room, her face going through a myriad of emotions that Harry couldn't really describe as she saw the letter in hand. Recognition? Regret? Pity? Anger?
She launched a glance at Dudley and Harry, the glance lingering on Harry for much longer than usual. "Both of you, out."
Harry tried to protest. "But I want to see my letter—"
"OUT!"
Harry and Dudley made their way out of the hall, the latter giving a sneer in the smaller boy's direction. Harry ignored it all. He was just more curious about what was happening. How did the letter know his real name, and was it addressed directly to his cupboard? It was also quite creepy that the possibility of someone spying on him didn't seem too far from the truth.
Harry made his way into his cupboard silently, not attempting to listen through the keyhole like Dudley did, because he didn't really see the point when the two adults were already so secretive to begin with. Surprisingly, even through the thick door, he could hear the arguing voices of his Aunt and Uncle. It had been a long time since they had argued, and usually, it was about him.
Later that day, when Harry was secretly reading a storybook with a small toy flashlight (both of which he stole from Dudley), he heard a knock on his door.
Aunt Petunia coughed from behind the door. "Take it and read it, boy."
What? They were actually letting him read the letter? Harry's heart pumped with excitement. If it was something that made his relatives angry, it had to be good, surely.
His aunt slid the letter underneath the crack of the door.
Harry eyed the piece of unopened paper, waiting for a second to see whether he was hallucinating or not. He was afraid that the letter would somehow disappear, and the spectacled boy would never see it again.
He grasped the letter greedily and opened it up.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Harry just eyed the piece of paper in front of him in disbelief. This couldn't be real, could it? A school for witchcraft and wizardry? It was a large-scale joke, and Harry was currently being outright played. But the term magic happened to explain a plentiful number of things that happened all around him. The inexplicable and random things which occurred once a week or more, and usually got him into huge heaps of trouble in school, even when no one could actually explain what happened.
Of course, he eventually accepted the letter as truth. If he could really talk to snakes, which is certainly classified as magic according to his own storybooks, then it wouldn't be surprising if there was a school for other children like him.
After the initial acceptance, all Harry could feel was the bubbling excitement in his stomach. A school? Filled with new students and no Dudley? He was ecstatic, even.
With that in mind, Harry slept in peace for the first time ever.
[—]
Harry woke up the next day, at first preparing for another day of boredom with the Dursleys and having to prepare food first thing in the morning.
Then, all out of a sudden, a myriad of memories entered the forefront of his mind. Harry grinned as he realized everything wasn't a dream—he seriously was a wizard! A wizard who would eventually go to school, and eventually make new friends (hopefully).
The morning after was quite a quiet affair.
Harry stuck to the regular routine like usual. He quickly made the family breakfast, which included well-cooked bacon and eggs, with a side of toast as well. Uncle Vernon was unusually quiet that day, which added to the general confusion the boy was feeling.
Aunt Petunia had a stony expression as she ate her food opposite him on the table.
Dudley, as usual, rambled on and on about his television series and laughed here and then with his mouth full as he watched.
Harry remained befuddled at how events had transpired so weirdly. At first, he got a very creepy letter proclaiming he was a wizard, which he merely thought was a prank. Then, it turns out it wasn't a prank and that both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon knew about it as well.
But Harry liked the new treatment he was getting. Being ignored by the Durselys was much, much better than them actually paying attention to him.
Ding!
Harry's head swerved as he heard the doorbell ring.
Aunt Petunia looked at him meaningfully, a silent message that could only be understood with years of experience with the demanding woman.
He walked towards the door and tentatively opened it.
Harry could only call the man he saw before him as strange. With long, black robes cascading onto the concrete floor underneath him, he was dressed strangely even by Harry's standards. His stringy, black hair was combed to the sides, revealing an intimidating face for the world to see. Long, slightly crooked nose and coal-like eyes were two of the prevalent features.
Overall, the man looked like a wizard.
"You are Harry Potter, I presume?" The man asked with his quiet, but piercing voice.
Harry froze, stunned. "Um…yes."
His eyes scanned Harry up and down as if he was almost unbelieving that he was, truly, Harry Potter.
It was Aunt Petunia's turn to talk. "Who's there, Harry? Let them in!"
Harry did not miss how she referred to him by his actual name when someone else was present but obviously refrained from commenting.
The man took a slow step inside, pushing past Harry and eyeing down everyone in the near vicinity. Uncle Vernon's face turned a putrid blue this time the second he saw the man, which only proved Harry's earlier presumption. This person, whoever he was, was a wizard just like him.
Aunt Petunia's reaction was even more visceral than Uncle Vernon's own. Her mouth was agape, her eyes opened in shock, and her hand almost threatened to hold the fork it was holding.
"My name is Severus Snape, Potions Professor at Hogwarts, and I've come to escort Mr. Potter here for his school supplies."
Aunt Petunia finally managed to speak some words of her own. "Y-you…"
Or, word.
Snape continued, "It will take no more than two hours. After that business is done, he will have to organize whatever belongings he has in this house, as he will no longer be a resident here."
What? What is he even talking about? Is Hogwarts some kind of year-long boarding school?
"And why would he no longer be a resident here?" Uncle Vernon asked sharply, trying to keep his anger in check.
Snape looked at Uncle Vernon with a raised eyebrow. "He is going to be taken in by James Potter, weren't you informed?"
Harry could feel his head spin as he thought about what the Professor just said. James Potter? Who was that? The only Potter he knew was himself, and the only relatives he had were the Dursleys, who were related to him through his mother. Was he some kind of distant uncle or cousin who learned of his existence?
"Who is James Potter?" Harry asked curiously.
The wizard froze. Then his eyes narrowed sharply. "Tell me, Petunia. Why doesn't the kid know of his own father?"
Harry felt his stomach drop at the sickening realization.
His own father was alive.
This was going to be a long day.
[-]
Harry decided from that moment on that he hated Apparition. The nauseating feeling in his stomach was proof of that. His head spun, he felt like he was going to throw up right then and there, and the sudden change in environment was more than jarring.
He released his grasp from the older wizard with a start, before looking at his surroundings curiously and taking a moment to reset his mind.
"I take it that the muggles have told you nothing about your…background?" Snape asked, leading Harry forward.
"None," Harry responded, rightly assuming that muggles referred to the Durselys, and most likely other non-magical.
Snape sneered. "And of course, I have to explain everything to you. Dumbledore and his stupid sentiments…"
For the next five minutes of his life, Harry just felt like he stumbled upon the largest exposition he had ever seen in a book. It was too comical. Dark Lords, magical wars, schools, and more. But none of that shocked him more than the fact that he had both a brother and a father alive.
Why? How come he had never known? Harry personally wasn't even sure how to react to the mind-boggling news, and instead just tried to go along with the flow. Snape, while sneering again, had mentioned his brother was a celebrity for vanquishing the said Dark Lord while he was a baby.
Once again, Harry felt like he was in a dream for sure.
How in the world does someone even do that as a child?
The magical world was certainly weird.
Harry stared at the normal-looking pub which Snape was leading him to. "Sir, how come I haven't gotten to meet my father yet?"
Snape's lip curled at the words. "Don't ask me such questions, child. Instead, ask your father once you meet him. I'm sure it's going to be an experience…to remember."
Clearly, his professor did not have much of a good impression of his father. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest but didn't speak further. There must have been a decent reason for his father leaving him with the Dursleys. The Dursleys were wrong about his parents, at least he knew that.
"Where are we going currently?"
"The Leaky Cauldron. It serves as a secret entrance for entering Diagon Alley, where we can buy all of your supplies," said the tall wizard coolly.
Buy? Harry didn't have a coin of money on him—how would he even buy a single book, let alone an entire set of books, ingredients, clothes, and more.
He tried to voice his concerns. "I'm not sure whether I have the money to afford—"
"The Potters are an old Pureblood family with a plentiful amount of influence and galleons at their disposal. Your father will have it all cared for."
Harry stopped himself from asking what a galleon was, as he definitely didn't want to annoy the stern man even further.
They entered the Leaky Cauldron after that, with Snape leading and Harry in tow. From the outside, the Leaky Cauldron looked barren, whereas once you were inside you could truly tell how busy the place was. With tables scattered all over the expanse and multiple bar counters to appease the bustling wizards, it was a lively sight.
"Come, boy," Snape ushered, sending a look of disgust at a group of laughing, drunk wizards in the corner. "It's best not to spend too much time here."
Harry calmly followed the Potions Master, which wasn't hard to do considering his towering figure.
"To the Boy-Who-Lived!" Some old man said, cheering as he chugged his drink.
Apparently, Harry had really underestimated how famous his brother was. If a random old man was cheering to his title, it showed just how serious the wizarding world took Charles Potter. Saving an entire population from an evil dark lord did seem to have its own benefits.
"Professor, how does Hogwarts–"
BOOM!
Harry felt himself get blown away like a ragdoll several meters away as a shockwave rammed into his body, forcing him to buckle to his knees immediately. Professor Snape managed to stay on his feet–no, he was levitating slightly above the ground.
Screams echoed through the tavern as witches and wizards ran around crazily, attempting to escape the threat of danger as soon as possible. The entrance to the inn was completely blown to shatters, leaving below it a few unmoving and clearly dead or unconscious individuals.
Harry felt dread and terror fill his heart, which was pumping faster than it had ever before. He had felt fear when he was afraid the Dursleys were going to scold him or lock him in the cupboard again, but this was different.
He just saw people die.
Professor Snape whipped out a long, black stick (a wand?), and began waving it around with precise, unique slashes. Harry felt slight warming in his stomach as a golden glow surrounded his body. It disappeared a second later, revealing a white, almost transparent shield in front of him to cover the rest of his body.
'Leave, Potter! Follow the others rushing backside!" Snape barked, going forward to meet whatever had caused the ruckus, which wasn't a good idea by Harry's own standards.
"And you?" Harry shouted back, having to do so in the loud atmosphere.
The glare which Snape sent him was so dark that Harry feared for his life if he did not obey his demands.
Harry tried his best to maneuver through the crowd but found it very hard to do so with his small stature.
Meanwhile, the perpetrators of the attack made themselves open for everyone to see.
Two dark-cloaked figures made their way into the fray.
Harry felt himself get pushed to the side harshly as a taller, muscular man with a burly mustache rushed through the crowd. "Move!"
One of the cloaked members waved their wands at the crowd, making Harry's legs shake as the earth underneath him rumbled. A wall of rock rose from the floor, blocking the exit entirely. Some of the crowd attempted to do some spells of their own in response to the wall but ended up changing nothing.
They were stuck.
And that was when Snape went on the offensive.
A whip of fire was unleashed from his wand, cracking in the air as it tried to make contact with the enemies, but only met a thick, white shield in response. The cloaked figure aimed his wand at the chair and tables, turning them into a pack of lions that roared aggressively in Snape's direction.
The Potions Master merely waved his wand, summoning a wave of water to come crashing into the pack like a storm. He continued with a chain of spells, which all looked like a bunch of flickering lights to Harry, who had never even seen a duel before.
Snape flew past some spells, his cape fluttering wildly in the air as he did so. "Incendio Maximus!"
A pillar of potent, scarlet fire erupted from his wand and circled around the instrument, before finally erupting in the form of a large snake directly at the wizards. Harry could feel the flare of heat even from where he was, which was an impressive feat by itself.
However large Snape's own spell was, he was outnumbered. Crystals of ice exploded from each of the rivaling wizards' wands, meeting the snake in the middle, before essentially neutralizing the hunting reptile entirely.
The fight continued for a while, the two versus Snape, who continued to counter or dodge each and every spell the duo deployed.
Eventually, one of the two got bored.
"Yes!" A wizard from the crowd behind Harry exclaimed.
Harry turned his head at the sudden noise–the rock was gone. Soon enough, the group began running wildly for the exit, with Harry in tow. Harry felt a rush of exhilaration.
He would survive this.
As for Snape, he definitely would survive this. The older wizard seemed competent enough.
He had to make it out by following the other wizards to Diagon Alley, which certainly seemed much safer than being inside the inn.
Then the boy felt his blood run cold.
Something was poking his back.
"And where do you think you're going, boy?" A cold, mocking voice said from behind him.
Harry turned backward as he sent a terrified glance towards the wand at his back, and once more at the cloak looking at him. At that second, Harry felt multiple thoughts running through his head. They cycled and cycled endlessly, until suddenly, they stopped.
"Avada Kedavra."
The last thing he saw was a flash of green.
And with those two words, Harry Potter died.
[You Died.]
Huh?
[Respawning…]
"You are Harry Potter, I presume?"
Harry let out a gasp of terror as he began breathing uncontrollably. Sweat poured down his neck and forehead as he tried to calm down his racing heartbeat. What? Where was he? A second before he was staring down a wizard who had a wand point-blank on him. He looked forward at the man in front of him.
Snape.
Just like how he was back at the Dursleys. No, Harry was at the Dursley's home.
This has to be a joke, some kind of illusion. There's no way…
He was several hours back in the past.
Meaning, Harry had quite effectively…respawned?
[End]
Yo!
That's the end of the first chapter, how did you like it? I'll admit, the former half was quite a cliche beginning, but the latter was a product of my own imagination.
As dumb as it sounds, this is a Gamer plus a WBWL fic. ATTENTION! The gamer aspect won't be explored too heavily, as you can tell by the title, it's more about Harry's respawning. THE WBWL portion is a way to give more interesting conflict and conversation for this Harry as well. This ability is overpowered in the regular Harry Potter-verse, as Harry literally only dies once there. Enemies will be much stronger here, and Voldemort & CO will be more competent.
I will not lean into any more cliches (or try my best to) for this fic. Charles won't be an idiot for the sake of it.
This fic will be dark, and for a good reason. Harry's deaths will become progressively gruesome as the story goes, fortunately, or unfortunately.
Question for you: What should the pairing be?
This fic is inspired by:
Re: Zero (anime)
Mother of Learning (novel)
Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin (ff)
Harry Potter and The Ashes of Chaos (ff)
The many deaths of Harry Potter (ff)
Naruto, The Leveling Shinobi, my other fic, is still being updated weekly if you are here for that. Next update is tomorrow, unfortunately.
This fic will also update weekly alongside it, though the day is not chosen as of now.
For now, follow the story if you want to be caught up–this will be epic in length.
Bonus: Did anyone get the GoT reference?
Cya' next week.