Rain's Writing Archive

Harry Potter and the Deal with Death

Originally posted to Wattpad on 8/5/2019. "Completed" on 7/28/2022.

Chapter One

(Picture above is what I imagine Death looking like.)

Harry Potter has always been a bit of an odd duck, especially when he was younger. From turning his teacher's wig blue, to his hair growing back overnight, to ending up on the school roof when he jumped behind a garbage bin. Even when he was in the wizarding world, he could do things that others could not. Talking to snakes and having visions about Voldemort, for example.

So, when he came back from the dead, he wasn't all that surprised. 'Just another normal day in the life of Harry Potter!' he had thought at the time.

All in all, what he did find rather surprising, was that he retained the ability to speak and understand Parseltongue after Voldemort's horcrux was gone, and that Albus had somehow inherited the same ability.

In 2019, Harry decided to retrieve what was rightfully his. He went back into the Forbidden Forest and retrieved the Resurrection Stone, then removed the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's grave. The former Headmaster had no need of it, so why should he let such a powerful artifact waste away in some tomb with a man it didn't even belong to?

Harry kept all three Hallows an him at all times, even if he didn't think he would need or want to use them. He would occasionally call upon his parents', Sirius, Remus, Tonks, or Fred's spirits so he could talk with them.

Instead of becoming an Auror, like he wanted to back in Hogwarts, he became a Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Honestly, he found it rather amusing when Teddy used his Metamorphmagus abilities to make himself look like Harry and tried to teach the class.

On April 27, 2137, at age one hundred fifty-seven, Harry James Potter passed away. He died peacefully in his bed at home, surrounded by his wife, children, and grandchildren. He lived a lot longer than anyone expected him to, and for that, they were grateful.

To everyone else, Harry's life was over, but for him, it was only beginning.

Harry opened his eyes, and found himself lying on his back in the same clean and empty King's Cross Station he had been in all those years ago. The only difference was that the sliver of Voldemort's soul was no longer under the chair, and there was no Dumbledore in sight. There was only a mysterious, black-robed figure that was holding a scythe.

Harry stood up, and stared at the figure. Was this person going to talk to him like Dumbledore had?

"Who are you?" Harry asked the figure.

"Me?" it said, "Why, I am Thanatos. More commonly known as Death."

"Well, if what you say is true, why am I here, and not with my parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Fred?"

"You are not in the afterlife with them because you died the Master of Death, and now you have a choice." Death replied.

"I'm not following. The Master of Death is just something from a children's bedtime story. It can't possibly be real."

"Are you implying that this conversation is a figment of your imagination?"

"No, I'm just saying that owning all the Hallows doesn't make you this 'Master of Death.' Personally, I don't think you have a master. A partner, maybe, but never a master."

Death chuckled before replying, "Well, I'll admit, you are right on that front. It's rather silly that you mortals have to put a label on everything.

"Anyway, now you have a choice; go on to the afterlife, join you friends and all that jazz, you could become my partner and rule the afterlife at my right hand side, or you can start your life from the beginning and do everything in your life the same, or make it drastically different. You can also do the last option as many times as you want, for as long as you want."

Harry thought for a moment.

"You can change your mind at any time."

"I'll live my life again, if you don't mind," he finally decided.

"Alright then. Oh, nearly forgot, since this will be your second life, you get a second animals form."

"Really? Cool!" Harry already knew his first form was a black mamba, so he was curious to find out what his second form was.

"Also, you can call upon me at anytime. I have transferred a small portion of my magic into your magical core, so I will know if you are in dire need of assistance."

Harry nodded to show he understood.

"Are you ready?" He nodded again, "Alright then, have fun, Harry."

Death snapped his fingers, and everything went dark.

Word Count: 772 Words

Alright, I need some constructive criticism and ideas here. What do you want Harry's lives to be like? Do you want me to make this a long story, or a shorter story? Should I give one life per chapter or a few lives spread out among many chapters? I have an idea for one of Harry's lives, but not much else.

Also, I know it's a bit all over the place in the beginning, but getting everything down so it would make at least some sense was more difficult than teaching a dragon to speak mermish.

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

Chapter Two

When Harry awoke, he found himself looking at a woman with vibrant red hair and jade green eyes.

Mum, he realized, Alright, I'm gonna treasure every moment of these fifteen months with them. With Mum, Dad, Siri, and Remmy.

* * *

When Voldemort attacked, everyone was woefully unprepared. James died protecting his wife and son. Lily died protecting her son, even though Voldemort gave her three chances to stand aside. Then, the man with the snake-like face moved onto the crib, ready to end the prophecy before it even truly began.

Harry stood in his crib looking right at Voldemort, a defiant look in his eyes.

Voldemort stared right back, a curious look slipping from behind his Slytherin mask.

"I just killed your parents, yet you do not look at me with fear. What are you, Harry Potter?" The Potter Heir opened his mouth, as if to respond. But babies couldn't understand well enough to make a proper response, right?

"I am a human, much like yourself, Tom Riddle," Harry said.

"How do you know my name?" Voldemort asked, surprised. "What have those Light people gone and put in your head?" He sighed. "No matter, I'll kill you either way."

"Alright then, have a nice ten years without a body!" the boy said.

What? Oh, never mind. He's probably just spewing nonsense anyways.

"Avada Kedavra!" The spell hit Harry in the forehead before rebounding and hitting the Dark Lord square in the chest. Voldemort's sliver of a soul was ejected from his body, which collapsed into ash a moment later. A fragment of the Dark Lord's soul was lodged into the lightning bolt-shaped cut on Harry's forehead, making him Lord Voldemort's horcrux.

* * *

When Severus Snape heard the news, he decided to go to his childhood friend's house and see for himself. Upon seeing Lily's dead body, he collapsed on the floor holding her close.

Harry sat patiently in the crib for someone - anyone, really - to notice him. Severus suddenly stood up and glared at Harry, who was feigning sleep.

The potions master left with a swish of his robes and Harry didn't see the man for nearly ten years.

* * *

As expected, Hagrid and Sirius showed up at nearly the same time. Hagrid said that Harry's Magical Guardian was Albus Dumbledore and that they were going to place him somewhere safe. Sirius argued that he was Harry's legal guardian, and with him would be safe enough.

Hagrid seemed to be winning and Sirius looked to be about to give Harry to Hagrid when he pretended to wake up and cling to Sirius' robes.

"Who's dat, Siri?" Harry asked blearily. Sirius jumped a bit, he must have not realized Harry was awake.

"He's Hagrid. He's going to take you to a safe place to live," Sirius seamed rather bitter about that.

I am not going back to the Dursley's. Not now, not ever, Harry thought.

"Don' wanna," he buried his face into Sirius' chest and clung to his robes tightly, refusing to let go.

"Seems this matter has settled itself, Hagrid. If Harry wants to stay with me, with me he shall stay."

"Professor Dumbledore won' be happy 'bout this," Hagrid said in a last effort to get Harry to Dumbledore.

"No, don' wanna," Harry said stubbornly.

"If Harry doesn't want to go, then he won't go," Sirius said. "Goodbye, Hagrid," they disapparated with a crack.

* * *

Word Count: 552 Words

I know that it's shorter than the last one, but I thought that was an appropriate place to end the chapter. I still require suggestions and constructive criticism, but no, "Your writing sucks, " "You shouldn't be on Wattpad, " "Get off Wattpad," and stuff like that. that's not constructive criticism, that's just being an asshole. Don't be an asshole.

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

Chapter Three

Sirius Black, holding a fifteen-month-old Harry Potter in his arms, appeared just outside the wards of a little cottage. He had bought it as soon as he had gotten out of school. He wanted to move out of his parents' place as soon as possible. It had also become the 'Marauder's Hangout' over time, but that's another story.

Sirius removed Pettigrew from the wards and added Harry in his place, then went inside.

It was a quaint little house with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen with a dinette, and a living room with a muggle television set. Sirius went into the living room, flopped down on the couch and sighed.

"I really hope Albus doesn't take this the wrong way," he sighed again.

"Siri ok?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine kiddo."

Sirius ended up falling asleep on the couch and that left Harry to do as he pleased.

With nothing else to do, he went and explored the house. One of the bedrooms didn't have a bed, but a desk instead. Harry assumed it was an office of sorts. The other two bedrooms had two beds each. Those bedrooms had a bathroom connecting the two together.

The fridge in the kitchen was full of food, as was the pantry. Harry knew that there wouldn't be a shortage of food anytime soon. There was also a microwave, which surprised him a bit, as their magic could interfere with it. He decided that it didn't really matter as it could be an enchanted muggle object like the ones Aurthur worked with.

He was walking back to the living room to lay down with Sirius when he tripped over his own two feet and fell flat on his face.

"Wow, how very graceful, Potter. Stupid one-year-old body," he muttered to himself. Walking would take a little getting used to.

He picked himself back up and continued into the living room - not falling on his face this time - and clambered onto the couch. He cuddled up to his godfather's side and fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Harry woke to his stomach grumbling at the lack of food in it. He sighed and went to wake Sirius.

"Siri, hungry!" he said, shaking his godfather.

"Wha- oh. Hello Harry," he said blearily.

"Hungry," Harry whined again.

"Ok, would you like a banana?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, I'll be right back," He booped Harry on the nose and left for the kitchen.

Harry waited patiently on the couch, thinking about nothing in particular. Sirius reentered the room with a plate with pieces of banana on it. They were cut up so they were bite-sized and easy to chew.

He ate the entire banana and then passed out again. He was really tired and didn't know why, nor did he particularly care. And so, he slept.

* * * Major Time Skip * * *

On Harry's fourth birthday, Remus Lupin showed up on their doorstep. His amber eyes were pleading as he asked if he could stay with them. Harry, of course, said that he could, Sirius eventually agreeing.

And in that moment, Remus was added to their odd little family.

* * * Major Time Skip * * *

On October 31, 1986, one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sent Sirius and Remus an owl that asked if they would mind if he paid a visit. The two found no problem with it and replied that they would open their floo at noon to allow him entry.

While the adults were making conversation, Harry was in his room, reading a book, completely unaware of their guest.

That is, until the aforementioned guest showed up in his room.

"Harry, my boy!"

"Erm- hello. Who are you?"

"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"And I'm Harry Potter, the only heir to the Potter line, but I guess you already knew that."

"Why yes, I did. Anyways, I would like to show you something."

"What is this 'something' that you would like me to see?"

"You will know soon enough," the headmaster replied. He grabbed Harry's arm and apparated away, the six-year-old Potter heir in tow.

* * *

Side-along apparition, Harry remembered, was not something he liked, but he somehow managed to keep his lunch in his stomach. He looked up at Dumbledore, then their surroundings. He felt dread sink into his stomach when it dawned on him where they were.

They were on Privet Drive, standing directly in front of number 4.

Harry barely tried to keep the worry from showing in his voice when he asked, "Why are we here?"

"Why, Harry, this is where you'll be staying until Hogwarts," Dumbledore lifted his wand, a gleam of... something in his eyes, "Memoriam Cincinno," he cast. Harry ducked out of the way and tried to pull the Deathstick out of Dumbledore's hand. The headmaster pulled it out of Harry's reach and laughed triumphantly.

"Really, old man, is that all you've got?" Harry smiled maniacally as his eyes began to glow an eerie shade of green. His hair began to move as if a strong breeze was tousling it, even though there was no wind.

"Accio Deathstick," Harry said calmly, holding out his hand to grab the wand when it got in range.

Stunned, Dumbledore could only look on in horror as his wand slipped out of his grip and into the Potter Heir's waiting hand. When the Elder Wand was in Harry's hand, he sighed contentedly.

"Oh, thanks for the Hollow, by the way. One down, two to go. The Cloak and the Stone, correct?" Harry enjoyed the look of confusion that shone on Dumbledore's face. "Yes, the Invisibility Cloak - my Invisibility Cloak - should be in your possession at the moment, and the Resurrection Stone should be in the Gaunt Ring. Yes, it should still be there-" he trailed off.

"Oh!" Harry snapped his fingers, "Can't have you telling anyone about what you've seen today. Oh jeez, this'll take a while," he muttered, then cleared his throat. "I, Harry James Potter-Black-Lupin-Peverell, Lord to Peverell, Slytherin, Gryfindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, Heir to Potter, Black, and Lupin, forbid that one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is able to inform others of anything I have said or done within the past half-hour or will do in the next half-hour, lest he lose his magic. So mote it be."

The magic of the spell bound the vow to reality, it was now in effect.

"Let's get back, shall we?" Harry laid a hand on the headmaster's arm and apparated away.

* * *

On Christmas, Dumbledore gifted Harry the Cloak back. By that point, he had already stolen the Resurrection Stone and destroyed the ring itself and Slytherin's locket. All he had to do was cast Avada Kedavra with the Deathstick! No more stabbing things with fangs and decapitating snakes with swords.

It was fun, but at the time, it was life or death. Now he could look back and laugh, because he was Death's equal. He could not die, he was the closest thing to an immortal being that exists.

Harry grinned. He quite liked how everything played out so far.

I bet I can defeat Voldemort by the time I'm in my third year, he thought.

Oh yes, this will be fun.

* * *

Word Count: 1171 words

That's exactly 619 words more than the last chapter. I'm really freaking tired and can barely keep my eyes open. I'm gonna go lay on the couch.

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

A/N

Sorry this isn't an update.

I was banned from my electronics for a while and haven't been able to work on the story, BUT! I was able to access the Google Doc that I use to write and revise this story (just in case Wattpad doesn't work so I don't lose anything I've written) on my school's chromebooks. Chapter 4 is almost finished, I promise.

Expect an update on Saturday or Sunday.

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

Chapter Four

By the time Harry turned eleven, he had destroyed three out of six of Voldemort's Horcruxes; the ring, locket, and cup, he was in possession of all three Hallows, and he had discovered a pocket in time and space he could use to store stuff - such as the Hallows, and what remained of the Horcruxes.

Getting Hufflepuff's cup wasn't as hard as it was in his first life, mostly because he asked Death to get it for him. What? You can't expect him to do everything he had done the first time around all over again. That would just get boring and repetitive.

Anyway, there they were - that is to say, Remus and Sirius - on Platform 9 ¾, sending Harry off to his first year at Hogwarts.

"Bye Siri, bye Remus! I'll see you during Christmas Break!" Harry called to his guardians while lugging his heavy trunk behind him.

Slipping into the last compartment on the very end of the train, Harry pushed his trunk to the overhead rack and sat down. He pulled out a book from his pocket in space and began to read.

Five minutes before the train was scheduled to leave, a boy Harry immediately recognised as Ron opened his compartment door.

"Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full," he asked.

"Sure, I don't mind," Harry replied, barely keeping the grin off his face.

"Thanks," Ron tried - and failed - to hoist his trunk next to Harry's.

"Here," he stood up and aided Ron in his desperate attempt to get his trunk on the rack.

"Thanks. I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley," Ron extended his hand.

"Don't mention it. I'm Harry. Just Harry," he took the offered hand and shook it.

"What house do you want to be in?" Ron asked.

"Gryffindor! Where else?"

"I need to be in Gryffindor, anywhere else would be a disgrace," Ron said.

They continued talking and laughing and bantering back and forth and generally having fun. Well, they were having fun until someone pushed open their compartment door.

"There's a rumor that this year is Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts. Have either of you seen him?" Draco asked none too nicely.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, ignoring his question.

"Malfoy," Ron spat.

"Weasley," Draco spat back. "So, I guess you haven't seen him. Gah, I searched every damn compartment and he's nowhere to be found."

Draco sighed and seemed to let his guard down a bit.

"I- um- got kicked out of the compartment I was sitting in, and everywhere else is full. Do you mind if I- um- sit here?"

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry stepped in before he could.

"Sure, why not?"

"But, Harry-"

"No, he can sit here if he wants. What's the harm?" Other than you two going at each other. He added in his mind.

"Thanks," Draco said as he sat down. "I'm Draco Malfoy. And you are?"

"Harry,"

"Don't you have a surname?"

"You'll find out during the sorting." Harry smirked.

"Fair enough." Draco shrugged.

"What house do you want to be in?" Harry asked.

"Slytherin. You?"

"Gryffindor for sure."

"Why do you want to be in Gryffindor? Everyone in that house are brash, impulsive idiots," Draco sneered.

"If you don't mind, Remus Lupin and Lily Evans were both in Gryffindor. I wasn't there, but I daresay they weren't "brash, impulsive idiots" as you put it." Harry replied. Ron snickered.

"Wait until-" Draco was interrupted.

"Wait until your father hears about this, I know. Do you really pester Lucius Malfoy with such trivial things? Honestly, I commend your bravery, not many would be willing to do that," Harry laughed inwardly at the astonished and offended look Draco was sporting.

"Anyway, let's stop fighting. I bet the entire train heard us." Harry laughed awkwardly.

"What do you think Potter will be like?" Ron asked suddenly.

"I bet he's a spoiled brat," Draco sneered.

"I think he'll be a nice, friendly person." Ron countered.

"I think you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Get to know him first, before you make assumptions." Harry hoped this would get them to come to an agreement.

"Alright mate, if you say so."

"Whatever."

Everyone fell silent. Tension started to build up. After a while, it became so potent you could cut with a knife. The trolley witch passed and Harry bought three of everything.

"Hey, catch!" Harry tossed a chocolate frog at Draco, which hit him in the face and fell into his lap.

"Ow! The hell was that for?"

"You should be on your guard. Pay attention to your surroundings," said Harry as he tossed one to Ron, who caught it.

"Thanks," Ron said with a grin.

A few hours later, the train arrived in Hogsmeade Station, and everyone got off. The first years were called over by Hagrid, who spotted Harry in the crowd and decided to come over and say hello.

"Why, 'ello 'Harry. I 'aven't seen yeh since yeh was a baby!"

"Hello, Hagrid. Say, Sirius told me a story about you before we left. He said that you tried to stick me with my muggle relatives under Dumbledore's orders, even though, in my parents' wills, they said never to let me live with them."

"Er- tha's not-"

"'That's not true'? Sirius even showed me the memory to prove it."

"The 'eadmaster only wanted what was best for yeh!"

"Yeah, because forcing me to live with my magic-hating relatives when I'm a wizard is what's best for me!" Harry took a deep breath, then let it out. "Sorry, I got a little worked up there."

"A little? You blew your fucking top!" Draco exclaimed.

"Let's just get in the damn boats..." Harry sighed.

"Alrigh', no more than four to a boat!" Hagrid boomed, making the first years scurry into action.

Harry, Draco and Ron managed to get one boat with only the three of them.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then — FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"What was that outburst for, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

"My godfather told the story of how my parents died and how Dumbledore told Hagrid to leave me with my abusive muggle relatives before we left home. My godfather did get custody of me, though (obviously)."

"Woah, that's quite the story, huh? And you're not upset about your parents dying?" Draco asked.

"No, I was in anguish when I heard, but, well, it happened in a war, wars have casualties. I was only a year old, so I don ́t really remember them."

"That's awful!" Ron gasped.

"I hate to agree with the Weasel, but that does sound pretty bad." Draco then whispered to himself, "I couldn't imagine living without my parents..."

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked thrice on the castle door.

Word Count: 1206 words

Posted this on one of  the  school's chromebooks.

Here's a poem I saw one time,

Roses are red

Memes are neat 

I want to die

lmao YEET

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

Chapter Five

The door swung open moments later. Mcgonagall stood there, looking as stern as ever.

I wonder how I'll get on the Quidditch team this year, now that Malfoy is some sort of acquaintance.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from the door to the Great Hall, but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"So, um- how exactly do we get sorted into houses?" asked a voice Harry recognised as Hermoine's.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Ron replied.

Hermoine then began to whisper very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Harry snorted at all the horror-stricken faces and Draco's confident smirk.

"What's so funny?" yelled a female voice.

"Your reactions." Draco's smirk faltered, "Do you honestly think that they'll test us on stuff most of us have never studied? No, it's more of a personality test. Courageous go to Gryffindor, cunning to Slytherin, kind to Hufflepuff, and witty to Ravenclaw. Rather simple, really."

"How do you know this? Hmm?" called out a male voice.

"My guardians told me."

Harry prepared to get a witty remark back, but it never came. Instead, screams met his ears.

Several people around Harry gasped. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. The Fat Friar was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

Nearly Headless Nick had suddenly noticed the first years.

"We're waiting for Professor McGonagall to return so we can be sorted," Harry told the ghost.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harry got into line behind Draco, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through the pair of double doors that led into the Great Hall.

Harry was absolutely reveling in nostalgia. The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over the four House tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Remembering the bewitched ceiling, Harry looked upward and saw what looked like the night's sky, velvety black and dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put the tattered-looking Sorting Hat.

Harry remembered what he thought he and the other first years had to do when he was eleven, 'Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it,' he covered his snigger with a cough. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the Hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the Hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A hat smarter than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The sorting hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

Where you'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole Hall burst into applause. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

"Didn't I say that it was more of a personality test earlier?" Harry asked.

"Well, yeah, I guess you did," said Ron hastily.

Harry nodded at Ron's response, and turned to face the Hat again. Unconsciously, his occlumency shields raised without his noticing. The thought of something forein in his mind put him on his guard, even if he didn't realize it.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down. Harry saw the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw table clapped this time; several Ravenclaw students stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the Gryffindor table exploded with cheers; Harry could see Fred and George catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus" sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

When Neville was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Of course," Harry chuckled lightly.

Draco went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"... , "Nott"... , "Parkinson"... , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"... , then "Perks, Sally-Anne"... , and then, at last —

"Black-Lupin, Hadrian!"

Harry stepped up to the stool. Apparently, the press wasn't able to get a hold of his legal guardians, therefore, no one knew he was "The Harry Potter." He had given up that life over eleven years ago. Let Dumbledore worry about why he changed his last name and why he's using his real first name. Harry didn't care.

McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat on his head and blocked everything from sight.

"You will have to lower your occlumency shields for me to sort you, young one." Harry heard the Hat's voice, though, it seemed distant.

'Sorry, but I'm afraid there's certain information in my head that I will not allow you to see. I will go to Gryffindor, if you don't mind.'

"I must actually look inside to see where to sort you."

'Unfortunately, I cannot allow that. There is information that a companion of mine would be very upset about getting out, so... no.'

"I have never, in my existence, shared any of what I find in a child's mind with anyone."

'Yet.' The Sorting Hat got noticeably angry then, and lashed out with a barrage of mental attacks, some of which Harry just barely blocked.

"I will not sort you until you let down your occlumency shields!"

'Just put me in Gryffindor you great twat!' His shields faltered, most likely due to rage. The Hat took this opportunity to slip inside. 'Shit!'

"Ah, I see-"

'Put me in Slytherin and I burn you at the stake.' Harry threatened.

"A student wouldn't dare try to burn an ancient artifact infused with magic," the Hat said confidently.

'Oh yeah? Try me,' Harry really needed to get better control of his anger.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat finally. Harry had sat on the stool for fifteen minutes. A whole ten minutes longer than Neville.

Harry sighed in relief and went to the Gryffindor table. Now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. A second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

"Is he — a bit mad?" Harry heard a first year muggleborn ask Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes."

The plates were suddenly filled with food. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints - just like his first life - and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you —?" he cut himself off.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult —"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing — ").

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to Professor Snape in all his greasy haired, hooked nose, and sallow skinned glory.

It happened very suddenly. Snape looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. The pain had gone as quickly as it had come, though, so Harry made no big fuss over it. He had felt worse. Much, much worse.

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed, but not many.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."

Harry fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry remembered his previous life inside his dream, because he recognised the voice as that of Voldemort. Harry told the Dark Lord that he wasn't in Slytherin, and it was too late to transfer; the turban got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — there was high-pitched laughing at him as he struggled with it — there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

He stood up shakily to get a cup of water. He drank it and fell asleep, but when he woke, this time, he didn't forget the dream.

Word Count: 3743 words

The longest chapter yet!

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

On Permenant Hiatus (Probably)

I'll probably never update this story, unless I'm really, really bored. Sorry. Personally, I kinda liked where the story was going, but I just don't have the time or motivation to continue on. I get it, an author who abandons their story is a pretty lame author, and I understand that those who like my stories will be really upset, because I have been a reader who has read a story that has been discontinued. I get that when a reader gets attached to a story, they can get mad at the author if they put a story on hiatus or discontinue it. But right now, I want to stop writing this story.

I hope you all will understand. Thanks for reading and voting.

Bye,

-Kat

Chapter Six

(Suicide attempt!!! You've been warned!!!)

* * * Major Time Skip (as in a really big time skip) * * *

Harry, unfortunately, was unable to defeat Voldemort by his third year. Instead, he beat him him in his fourth year, after he was resurrected by Pittegrew. It wasn't an easy feat, to tell you that much, but with all three of the Hallows, it wasn't nearly as difficult as the first time. He was able to stop Cedric from dying and they both won the tournament.

Harry gave all his winnings to Cedric, saying that him being alive and Voldemort dead was enough. He went home with Remus and Sirius that summer feeling content with the outcome of this world.

* * *

Remus and Sirius got the news of their son's death a little less than two weeks after it happened. One of the few living Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange, caught Harry off guard while in Diagon Alley shopping for his equipment for his fifth year.

Eye witnesses say Lestrange jumped down from a rooftop and tackled him, then apparated away. Search parties had searched all over for twelve days before they found Harry's body in a rundown, abandoned manor.

The body showed signs of nasty curses being inflicted alongside multiple muggle torture methods. The torso had 37 stab wounds total, multiple of those hitting the lungs and heart. All Harry's nails had been ripped off and his eyes were gouged out. Part of his skull was bashed in and blood matted his hair.

There was also a certain lack of an... intimate body part that had every male who found the corpse vomiting in their mouth a little.

It was absolutely horrific.

Harry was buried beside his parents in Godric's Hallow. Sirius and Remus would often visit, and beat themselves up, saying that if only they had been with him in Diagon, they could have protected him.

Ron and Draco would also visit on occasion. They were with Harry that day, and they hated themselves for being so useless. For being unable to save their friend.

One day, Draco decided he couldn't take it anymore. Around one in the morning, when everyone was asleep, he snuck out of the Slytherin common room. Quietly, he went to the Astronomy Tower and stood up on the railing.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't live in a world without you in it. Goodbye." He leaned forward, and gravity did the rest. Draco plunged from the tower into darkness.

But, a mere three feet from the ground, something caught him and slowly let him drift the rest of the way to the ground.

Draco opened his eyes and was met with a messy, black haired boy with lively, emerald green eyes staring  back, bright smile illuminating his features.

"You didn't think I'd just let you die, did you?"

* * *

Word  Count: 462 words

Haha, sike! Pulled a sneaky on ya with the last chapter, didn't I?

Ok, but on a more serious note, this was actually really fun to write, but I meant what I said in the previous chapter. I just got really, really bored.

Also, love y'all for sticking with me.

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

Chapter Seven

"You didn't think I'd just let you die, did you?"

Draco's vision became blurry with tears that he hastily rubbed away with his sleeve. This wasn't Harry. Harry was dead.

"You're not Harry. You can't be." Draco insisted, tears returning to his eyes.

"Why not?" The imposter asked.

"Because… because Harry's been dead for m-months! People can't just… just s-suddenly come back to life! I-it goes against everything n-natural! Not even D-Dumbledore could… could bring someone b-back from the dead..." Small sobs could be heard coming from the Slytherin’s form. Tears were rolling freely down his cheeks now.

The imposter's eyes widened, probably suprised to see the Slytherin Prince break down and start crying. Good, that means he'll go away sooner.

"Dray, I-" the imposter broke off, and Draco felt arms wrap around his slim form.

"G-get off!" Draco yelled, "Don't… don't touch me!" He shoved the imposter off of him and scooted away.

"Dray, it's me, Harry." The imposter tried again, but Draco wasn't going to listen to that nonsense.

"No! N-no you… you're not. I know you're not him."

"But I am! What can I do that will get you to believe me!?" The imposter cried.

"T-tell me something. Something only he would know."

"Like what?" The imposter asked.

"Doesn't matter. Just something only the real Harry would know." Draco sniffled. He desperately wanted this to be Harry. He knew it couldn't be, but he wanted to believe it could be. Even for only a few moments longer.

"Uh- your real name is Draconis?" The imposter tried.

"Loads of people know that, dumbass." Draco was really regretting leaving his wand in his dorm right now. If this bastard had any murderous intent, he was done for.

"Right, stupid…. Er- you, uh, never agreed with Voldemort on his ideals?"

"Nope. Closer, but a fair few people know that, too." Draco said.

"Fuck..." The imposter muttered.

"L-last chance!" Draco warned.

"Dammit, fine! In our third year, you had a really bad nightmare and somehow broke into the Gryffindor dorms and climbed into my bed! Happy!?"

Draco's eyes widened. It-it was Harry! It was completely impossible, but when was Harry ever stopped by the laws of the universe?

"H-Harry! I… I'm sorry I didn't believe it was you! But I-" Draco was cut off.

"Hey, hey! It's fine, I totally understand! If one of my friends died then came alive again, I'd be skeptical, too. Sorry."

"I… I'm just happy you're alive."

"So, you expect me to stay dead and wait for my friend to join me in death? No way in hell." Harry picked himself up off the ground and brushed the dirt off his trousers. He held his hand out to Draco with a smile, "Let's get you back inside."

"Right," Draco took the offered hand with a smile of his own. Harry hoisted him up before pulling him into a hug, which the Slytherin returned after a moment's hesitation.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in each other's presence. Harry was the first to break away.

"It's almost three in the morning, we should get going before the sun rises."

"Yeah, ok." Draco agreed.

And off they went.

* * *

They walked in silence back to the front of the castle. Draco kept glancing over to Harry, as if he would disappear the moment he took his eyes off him.

At one point, Harry had had enough and simply grabbed Draco’s hand and said, "You keep looking at me like I'm gonna disappear. This way, you'll know I'm here without looking at me every five seconds."

Draco blushed a little, but nodded. They continued on their way to the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

They made it to the entrance to the common room quickly - a little too quickly in Draco's very humble opinion. Draco spoke the password and the wall moved to reveal the common room. Draco hesitated, and turned to face Harry.

"Are you gonna show your face in public? Everyone thinks you're dead..."

"Of course not. You're a special exception, especially when you try to kill yourself over me."

"Heh, um… sorry?" Draco gave Harry an awkward smile. Harry rolled his eyes in amusement.

"So, see you 'round?" Harry wondered.

"Yeah, sure…" Draco turned back to the common room and walked in, wall closing behind him.

Draco clambered into his bed and fell asleep on top of the sheets. God, he was tired. He fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Word Count: 758 words

And now, I'm on a writing spree.

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

Yeah, Forget the Whole "On Permenant Hiatus" Thing

Yay, I won't be ending the story! Yeah, I went back and realized I found a really cool way to continue the story, so I did just that and posted two chapters in one night (four if you count these author's notes).

So, uh, yeah. Don't expect chapters like this every day, I just can't sleep at the moment (I'll regret staying up so late tonorrow...).

Also, I tried to make these previous two chapters as emotion-wrecking as I know how. >:3

Anyways, 'til next time,

-Kat

A/N

I'm not even in this fandom anymore guys, what the fuck?!

Not like I don't appreciate it but seriously, cool your tits, broski.

Chapter Eight

Light shone through the curtains in the Gryffindor dorms, but most of the boys were still asleep; it was Sunday, they could sleep in as long as they wanted. There were five beds total, all hung with red curtains, but one was empty. The sheets were neatly folded, curtains pulled back, and there was no trunk beneath it, so it was obviously unoccupied. The previous inhabitant was the Boy who Lived, Harry Potter, before his untimely death. There, the bed sat, something to make sure none of the Gryffindor boys would forget him anytime soon, not that they would.

Ron was the first to wake up, as he often was these days, but only lied in his bed with the curtains closed for another half hour. When he finally did get out of bed, his movements were sluggish, and he took a long while to get dressed in a t-shirt and jeans.

Ron had been suffering from depression ever since he had found out that Harry was dead. It had become increasingly difficult to get himself out of bed every morning and finding the motivation to get anything done. Every day, he plastered a fake smile on his face and prayed that no one would notice.

Today, unlike almost every day that year, Ron left Gryffindor tower to go to the Great Hall. He rarely ate in the Great Hall anymore, finding the solitude in the kitchen comforting, but Neville said some Slytherin upperclassmen were messing with him again and Ron, depressed as he was, was not about to let a fellow Gryffindor suffer if he had anything to say about it.

And so, he went down to breakfast and sat at the Gryffindor table. By the time he had made it down, it was already filling up with students sitting at their own house tables.

One person who caught his attention immediately was Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table.

His usually neat blond hair was in disarray, but he didn’t seem to mind, and he was wearing muggle clothes - he claimed to despise muggle clothes. But, most oddly, he was sitting at the very center of the table, surrounded by Slytherins of every year, and seemed to be telling a story of some kind.

What’s so odd about this? Draco was also suffering from depression, and the last few times Ron saw him in the Great Hall, he was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, not socializing with anyone. He would sometimes even join him in the kitchen. Depression doesn’t just go away overnight, especially when you were suicidal, like Draco was.

Ron would have to see what was up later. For now though, food was top priority.

He dug in to a large helping of pancakes and waffles.

***

It was 6 o’clock, and all of the Gryffindors were in the common room, except for one. Ron was on the seventh floor, pacing in front of a wall. Now, some would think he’s crazy, but there is a very good reason he’s pacing in front of this particular expanse of wall.

A door appeared, and Ron opened it and went inside. Behind the door was a small room, about the size of a living room. There were two couches - one green, one red - on opposite sides of a coffee table, with a fireplace on the far wall. Ron went and dropped himself on the red couch to wait for a certain Slytherin.

Not long after, Draco opened the door and slipped inside.

“Did you seriously colour-code the couches?” Draco asked. Ron shrugged half-heartedly.

The Slytherin sighed and sat on the green couch, opposite Ron.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"You were acting odd at breakfast today," Ron said, eying Draco's muggle clothes and disheveled hair, "Still are now, as a matter of fact. Thought you said you'd never wear muggle clothes 'til the day you died."

“W-well, I… Can’t a guy change his mind every once in a while?”

“No.” Ron deadpanned.

“You’re an arsehole.”

“Duly noted.”

Draco sighed and folded his hands in front of him. He looked anxious, like he was hiding something and didn't want to slip up and give it away. "Something… happened. Last night. But I- uh, can't talk about it..." he said.

"Why not?" Ron asked, annoyed.

"I mean, it's not my secret to share…" Draco unfolded his hands to run his fingers through his already-ruffled hair. Ron made a dissatisfied sound in the back of his throat.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s got you acting really weird.”

Draco at least had the decency to look ashamed. He dropped his head into his hands, elbows braced on his knees. He took a long, deep breath and let it back out quickly. The blond boy raised his head again with a newfound determination settled in those pale grey eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the door to the room appearing and promptly slamming open. Ron was surprised it didn’t fall off the hinges from the force.

Even more surprising though, was the boy who had slammed the door open in the first place.

Tousled black hair, vibrant green eyes, and a grin bright enough to light up a room.

Ron would know that stupid grin anywhere.

“Harry!”

That was all the warning the raven-haired boy got before his friend was slamming headfirst into him, wrapping him in what had to be the tightest hug of the century. Harry held him just as tightly, picking him up about an inch off the ground and spinning them in a circle. Ron felt a giddy laugh bubble up from his throat. He did nothing to hinder it.

Draco walked up to them and enveloped them both in a hug of his own. Neither mentioned the way his eyes looked slightly wetter than usual; it would’ve been slightly hypocritical if they had.

Soon, the three of them ended up in a pile on the floor, basking in each others’ presences, content to lay there the whole day as long as it meant they weren’t separated. Eventually though, Harry hoisted himself off the ground, extricating himself from the clutches of his friends in the process.

When Ron and Draco made no move to follow Harry’s lead, the ravenette sighed and grabbed one of each of their hands and pulled them both onto their feet.

He dragged them over to the green couch by the hands, sitting them both down before laying on top of them. Harry’s head rested in Draco’s lap, his torso in Ron’s, and his legs were kicked up on the armrest.

The three sat in a comfortable silence that rested over them like a weighted blanket until Harry finally spoke.

“So, who colour-coded the couches?”

***

Word count: 1,130

Um,,, so,, :)

I'm back! Maybe! I'm not entirely sure yet but I finished and polished up this chapter and I thought I might as well post it lmao.

Legend has it that you can see the exact moment when my writing style changes.

Well, I suppose that's it for now. See ya,

-Rain

ART!!

heres a drawing i did of the couch scene from the last chapter. ignore the lack of background i got lazy

im not writing this anymore but i had to give it an actual ending so u get this

A/N: this is the last part of this i am going to post. it has about half a chapter properly written, an outline for the second half of said chapter, the vague skeleton of the following chapters, and a few lines for the actual ending. i am sick and tired of having this just sitting around in my google docs unpublished, but i really didn't want to actually write it. if you wanna write anything that ive outlined here or rewrite any of this fic, go wild. message me and ill link your thing in the description of this fic (i cant promise ill see it immediately tho!)

***

Harry eventually found out that Ron was the one who set up the room, and was also the one to make separate red and green couches. Draco and Harry took turns poking fun at him while he huffed and acted annoyed. He was not doing a very good job of it though, failing to hide snickers at their jabs. He was secretly having fun.

The three of them stayed like that long past any reasonable hour, talking about anything that came to mind without a care in the world.

After a bit of rearranging, they managed to find a comfortable position and they fell asleep that way. Ron's feet were kicked up on the coffee table while he slouched on such a way that he would definitely be regretting later. Harry's head was nuzzled in the crook of Ron's neck, arms around his waist and knees tucked close to him. Draco had his head resting on one arm of the couch with one leg laying over Ron's lap while the other dangled over the edge of the couch.

Ron was the first to fall asleep, yawning and mumbling through their conversation until he nodded off. Draco was second, bidding Harry good night before dropping off.

Harry was the last to fall asleep. His eyelids were drooping, but he was unwilling to doze off just yet.

There was something... intimate, special, about being able to lay here with two of his favorite people, untouched by the burdens he carried on the daily. He never wanted it to end.

All too soon, bright green eyes were slipping shut as exhaustion finally overtook him.

The next morning, bright sunlight streaming in through the windows woke the three teens, First Draco, followed quickly by Harry, and finally Ron.

They once again rearranged themselves into something close to what they had sat like the night prior. Still drowsy, none of them moved to stand up. Draco threaded his fingers through raven hair, and Harry hummed in content. Ron relinquished all sense of dignity and flopped into Draco's side, finding a comfortable spot under the blond's arm.

They stayed that way for a while. Maybe minutes, maybe hours, quietly chatting.

Eventually, Ron's stomach grumbled, and Draco's followed suit, reminding them both that they'd skipped dinner to meet up last night. They all shared a quiet laugh.

Harry pushed himself off his friends from where he'd been laying on them and stretched. His joints gave satisfying pops as he did so. He ran his fingers through his hair to regain some semblance of order, however futile it was, and adjusted his clothes so they were less sleep-rumpled.

Ron and Draco also stood, stretching and fixing their clothes and hair.

"You two go eat," Harry told them. "I should probably go tell Remus and Sirius I'm not dead. Ciao!" Harry pushed open the door of the room and slipped out without a sound. Draco and Ron followed less than a minute later, but by the time they left, Harry was nowhere to be found.

***

[Harry goes to his, Sirius' and Remus' house to explain himself. He's very awkward and apologetic, while his guardians are just very glad to know he's alive. He ends up spilling the beans about being in possession of the Deathly Hallows and essentially able to cheat death. The whole family ends up teary-eyed and cuddled in a pile on their living room floor. All wake up to sore backs and cricks in their necks the next morning.]

***

Chapter 10 - a casual day a few weeks later where harry has a nice day with his family, and then visits his friends in hogwarts. This is the calm before the storm, or maybe the calm before a slightly stronger-than-average breeze. Idk.

Chapter 11 - uh oh, ptsd! He ends up going to a therapist tho so its ok :)

Chapter 12 - after living a nice, fulfilling life (mostly) free of traumatic experiences, harry dies from cardiac arrest in his sleep at age 86 (significantly younger than last time). He was living in the house he inherited from Remus and Sirius with Ron and Draco. Harry and Draco were married and Ron also lived there in his own room with Hermione (who he is married to). Harry meets Death once again and they offer another redo or if he wants to move on. Harry thinks back on his last two lives, marveling in the wonders he got to experience twice over.

Harry smiled.

"I think... I think I'm done. The life - or lives, really - I've had the chance to live treated me well. I don't want to chance souring those memories."

Death's bony face stretched into a grin from under the hood of their cloak, "A good choice."

They tapped the end of their scythe on the ground, and a swirling black portal opened in front of Harry.

"Your family is through there. Go to them. You have all of eternity to make up for lost time."

Thanking them softly, Harry stepped through the portal.

Eternity was all he could ask for.

:)