Okay, PLEASE let me know what you think of this fanfic! I would like to hear some reviews! This story takes place right after Deathly Hallows.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Contains spoilers for Deathly Hallows.
Chapter 1:
It had been a long, hard battle. After all the losses, Harry just sort of felt numb. He could hardly believe that Fred was dead. Or Tonks, or Lupin, or even Colin, for that matter. Part of him half expected them to just turn the corner any minute, while the other part of him kept telling him they were gone.
He approached the Fat Lady, then suddenly realized he didn't know the password. This frustrated him quite a bit, as all he really wanted to do right now was to go in and get some rest. Luckily, the Fat Lady seemed to have heard of his victory downstairs, and swung open without any questions. Harry was grateful for this. The last thing he neede right now was to be locked out.
As he entered the Common Room, though, he saw almost at once that the room was occupied. Harry stared. Standing in front of the fireplace was perhaps the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen. She had long, white hair, long white robes, and skin so pale she appeared to be a ghost. She was staring at Harry intently, as if she had been expecting him. Finally, Harry spoke.
"Who are you?" he asked. He had never seen this woman around Hogwarts before, and she seemed much too old to be a student. The woman smiled.
"I am Death." she replied. Harry was shocked. Somehow, he'd always pictured Death as a grim-reaper type of figure. She was looking directly at him. She couldn't have come for him now, could she? He had just defeated Voldemort, for crying out loud!
"Am I the one you want?" Harry asked. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat. Death nodded.
"You may have heard, Harry Potter, but I do not like it when my victims are robbed from me." Harry began sweating profusely. This was it. He had just defeated Voldemort, and now Death was going to take him right after.
"Little is it known, however," Death continued, "that I do not like humans that take what was never theirs."
"If this is about the Deathly Hallows", Harry replied, "you can have them back. I have no need of them." Harry was hoping this would dissuade her from taking him instead. Death chuckled.
"This isn't about the Deathly Hallows." Death replied. "Tom Riddle has been avoiding me for quite some time now, and his fate was long overdue." Harry relaxed a little. She seemed to be simply congratulating Harry on a job well done. Remembering the tale, though, he was still very wary of the figure before him.
"I had to." Harry said simply. Death smiled.
"Tom Riddle took many things that were never his to claim." Death said. "Not all of those were material posessions."
"Do you mean lives?" Harry asked. Death nodded.
"I have come to return what was lost." she said. Harry felt a sudden excitement growing inside of him. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Death took out a small, red item out of her pocket. It looked simmilar to a Bertie Bott's Bean.
Update:
Harry stared at the small item in Death's hand.
"Eat this", Death told him, "and all will be as it should. Tom Riddle will never have taken anyone's life, and all will be well. Should you choose not to eat it, all will be as it is now." Harry took the item. Then, without another word, Death dissapeared.
Harry could think of a few good things Hermione would be saying right now had she known of this little exchange. She would be warning him not to eat it, reminding him of the tale of the Three Brothers. Was this another trick? Was death actually angry at him for cheating her twice by surviving the Avada Kedavra curse? Was that what this bean really did? Or would it poison him? Perhaps once he ate it, the bean would kill him. He knew that was what Moody would say, too. Fat lot of good paranoia did him, though.
Then, against his better judgement, he ate it.
All at once, the room seemed to fade away. He couldn't be dying yet, he thought. It sure didn't taste like poison. Nothing hurt. He passed out. Little did he know of the shock that would come when he woke up.
P.S: I am so sorry to all of you to leave you hanging like that. It was very late and the chapter took longer to write than I thought it would. Anyway, now Chapter 1 is finished, so I'll do Chapter 2 next time! _________________
Last edited by Vitadare on August 13, 2007 11:14 pm; edited 2 times in total
oy...you can't stop there, not without continueing.
Not fair...waiting for Chapter 2 _________________ The boy who lived marries the wrong girl.
The girl whom he loves can not be his.
Harry, and Hermione...shoulda been!
Harry was surprised to find that he was already sitting up when he awoke, although the chair was clearly gone. He expected to wake up to Ron and Hermione asking if he was all right, or perhaps even to some excited news of all the people downstairs coming back. He opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a little blue puff of smoke. Where was he? soon, a yellow puff came floating past his ear. Out of instinct, he snatched at it. His movements seemed much clumsier than before. As soon as he grabbed the smoky, snitch-sized sphere, it dissapeared. A strange laugh sounded somewhere over his head.
"Good one!" a man's voice laughed. Harry looked up. There, sitting on the sofa and laughing, was his father. Something was different about him, though. Not only was his father alive, but he was HUGE! In fact, just about everything in the room was much bigger than it normally would have been. Did he shrink?
Looking down at his feet, Harry realized that he did, indeed, shrink. His feet and legs were much smaller than usual, and covered in what appeared to be blue footie pyjamas. He tried to stand up, but it was much more difficult now than he had ever remembered it being. He stood shakily for a few seconds, than fell down.
"Lily! Come quick!" James called out. There was a thumping of feet running down stairs, then his mother appeared. Harry could instantly see that there were many differences between the images of his parents in mirrors, ghosts, and photographs and his actual parents. They seemed more real, and much happier than he had ever seen them, with the exception of their wedding photo. Harry smiled. Being here with his parents was well worth the risk of eating whatever Death had given him.
"What is it, James?" Lily asked, slightly out of breath.
"Harry! Look! Do it again, Harry!"
Harry tried, once more, to stand up. His body still felt oddly ill-balanced, as if he had gotten a little more top-heavy. He stood upright for a few shaky seconds, than fell right back down again. His parents seemed delighted.
"Very good, Harry!" His mother cooed excitedly. She picked him up. A black-and-white cat purred around her ankles. Harry tried to look down at the cat. There had been something in his mother's letter about a cat, and now here he was.
"Do you want to pet Merlin?" Lily asked. She set Harry down on the floor. The cat, however, hissed and ran away. Harry guessed that whatever had happened with the toy broomstick had happened quite recently. Lily laughed.
Harry was now having a strange memory of himself on a brromstick. He was flying, but couldn't really control where he was going. He had almost run the cat right over! The cat had run out of the way just in time, but Harry had crashed into a rather ugly-looking vase. His father had caught him just in time, for that crash had caused him to fall off the broom. No wonder the cat was so angry!
"Okay, time for bed, Harry." Lily said. She picked him up once more and carried him to his room. James followed them.
As they went upstairs, Harry got a glimpse of himself in a mirror. He had, indeed, been turned into a one-year-old. Another thing he noticed was that he didn't have the lightining-shaped scar on his forehead. It was weird, lloking at himself without it, like looking at a brown-haired Ron or a male Hermione. He didn't realize how much he identified himself by that little scar. Without it, it was like looking at a smaller version of his father.
Lily carried Harry into what he could only imagine was his room. She put him down in his crib, smiling.
"Allright, Harry, just one story tonight. Then it's bedtime." Harry looked at them intently. This couldn't be that bad, he thought. Normally, he wouldn't like being treated like a baby by anyone, but these were his parents after all. And he did look like a one'year old. They were probably completely unaware that they were ever killed, or that their son had ever grown up.
"This is the story of Babbity Rabbity and her Cackiling Stump!" Lily began, but James stopped her.
"Harry, wouldn't you rather hear about the time me and Padfoot made regurgitating toilets out of all the ones in the girl's lavatories ?" Harry laughed. That sounded pretty funny!
"I didn't think it was that funny!" Lily said indiganantly. "It took me a week to wash all of the-"
"Lily, the baby." James warned, smiling.
"-...stuff...out of my hair!" Lily finished. Harry was pretty sure she had been about to say something else, but thought better of it.
"Anyway, it was me, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail." James began. "It was a Saturday afternoon and we were bored. So, Padfoot says 'I have an idea. I learned this regurgitating toliet spell that would be perfect to try out one somebody.' So, we say 'okay' and get to work. Each of us took turns sneaking into the girl's lavatories under the invisibility cloak and setting the spell to the toilets. And who should be first to walk into one of them but your mother."
"And I wasn't very amused!" Lily said crossly. She was smiling a little, though, which lead Harry to believe that she wasn't that mad at him anymore.
"She was furious! Water and...er...stuff went EVERYWHERE!" James was laughing now.
"I got them back, though." Lily said. "They weren't going to get away from me that easily!"
"Yeah, we both got detentions for that." James admitted. "And your mother decided to hex our fingers together for a whole week afterwards!" Harry was laughing. This was the most fun he's had in a while.
"Okay, It's time for bed now." Lily said, tucking Harry in. She turned out the lights and the whole room was dark, save for a small night-light that showed a set of Quidditch balls zooming around in a sphere.
Harry, however, was wide awake. How long would this spell last? Would it only last a day? A week? A month? A year? How long would he have this perfect life? How long before it was taken away? With those thoughts spinning inside his head, Harry fell asleep. _________________
Last edited by Vitadare on August 15, 2007 4:13 pm; edited 1 time in total
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