Chapter Text
The world was dying.
The muggles were destroying them all.
And Harry knew that soon he would be the last one.
It was the year 2032, and all the muggleborns were gone.
Killed.
By their own friends, their own family-
Harry had to stop himself from falling off the unstable cliff edge.
After all, if he fell, then what good would that do apart from serve him a few broken bones and cuts that would give him severe blood loss?
He never wanted to be the Master of Death.
Harry’s Adam apple bobbed as he gulped, a shuddering breath escaping him.
Turning away from the edge of the cliff, he activated his Peacock Portkey, which would take him to Malfoy Manor- one of the last Magical safe places in the world.
Standing in front of the grand gates that were nothing but a façade for what was really lying beneath them, he thought to himself, When will this end?
Three years later, Hogwarts fell. A magnificent, glorious home for many, and a school for those with the gift of Magic, just crumbled under the weight of the bombs that the muggles dropped on top of it, making it no more than debris and smithereens.
Two years later, the Minister died, fighting for their last as the muggles surrounded them, shooting at them with their guns and grenades, not giving them any chance of escape.
One year after that, there were no more magical creatures left- either that, or they had gone to their own Realms, no longer able to stay in the one they had called home for many millennial.
It was only Harry, Hermione, Luna, and a few handfuls of others left.
What once felt like minutes now felt like years.
No, no, no- Harry thought, panicking as Hermione, his best friend, his companion, his partner in almost everything, lay upon his lap, taking small, gasping breaths, fighting for Oxygen as the blood poured out of her shoulder, a wound that was somehow unable to be healed by Magic.
Please, no, please STAY I NEED YOU-
She exhaled her last breath, and Harry was the last Magical being that held any knowledge of the world that had once upon a time been real.
But he had to move on, no matter the cost.
It was another year, another challenge, and more lives were lost- at least the muggle population was going down because parents were becoming more wary and bloodthirsty by the minute, killing their children if any signs of Magic happened around them. And most of the children weren’t even Magical.
It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re nearly there, Harry thought, clutching a small two-year-old muggleborn in his arms, Invisibility Cloak carefully laid over them.
Just a little longer.
They had made it to the cottage by the seaside.
“I’m coming for you!” Harry’s playful tone was a joy to anyone who heard it- specifically, to the little five-year-old, it sounded like home.
Two huge arms swept them up, up, and up, until they were flying, but then Harry caught them in his strong, muscular arms. They giggled, curling up into a small ball as they shook with the force of their laughter.
“More, dada! More!” They screamed excitedly, but it soon turned into beautiful shouts of happiness as they were almost tickled to Death by their dada.
“What’s that?” The child asked a few moments later, after they settled down and started looking at the clouds.
For a five-year-old with ADHD, they certainly kept their attention on the white fluffy-like things floating in the sky for a long time.
And they weren’t even looking for shapes and animals in them.
“What’s what, sweetheart?” Harry asked, scanning the forest, making sure that the runes he put on the stones at the edge of the forest weren’t disturbed, and he didn’t notice anything that seemed to be out of the ordinary-
There. A shadow.
Before they could reply, Harry had already gathered them up in his arms.
“What is it, dada?” The child asked, innocence etched into their very being.
“You have to be really quiet.” Harry whispered to them. He entered the house through the front door, with his child looking up at him curiously.
“Why?” They asked semi-quietly.
“Because there’s someone out there, Ashley,” Harry mumbled, eyes flashing through scarring memories that he knew he could never, ever escape, no matter how hard he tried. “And we don’t know who it is.”
“Why don’t we go beyond the stones, dada?” Ashley asked early one morning, while Harry was transfiguring sticks into chopped pieces of wood to burn.
“Because there are some bad people out there, Ashley.” The Boy-Who-Lives told them, smiling sadly.
“But that old lady comes around sometimes. She seems nice.” Being seven years old, Ashley didn’t know what they had truly said, and seemed to be oblivious to the way Harry froze.
“What old lady?” Harry asked, tone urgent and borderline frightened.
“The one that’s always at the border. Don’t you see her?” Ashley pointed behind him.
And when Harry turned around, there was, indeed, an old lady standing at the edge of the Wards.
“Ashley!” Harry shouted, hearing the screams of his child.
The ceiling caved in, and there was one final pained, deafening scream before everything exploded.
And then there was silence.
No longer was there a giggling child to lead him down imaginary paths. No longer were there excited chatters filling the once home of two. No longer was there a muggleborn that was the closest to safe as the Magical kind could possibly get.
“Ashley!”
The loss of Ashley is something that Harry knew would unfortunately, inevitably happen.
But right then, looking through the wreckage, trying to find any signs of life, just about anything, he felt like it was all too soon.
Too soon.
Harry Potter was the Master of Death, and therefore Immortal, and so he knew that he would outlive everyone.
But for the muggles to drop a 500 metre bomb on a small property that housed a seven-year-old child who lived with their father?
And they hadn’t even done anything!
Harry sobbed as his burns rubbed against the Invisibility Cloak that he had recently donned, trying to go unnoticed by the muggles that had just arrived- but really, he only did it because of standards.That was all.
Finally, when he gave up after days in which he had no sleep, no food, and no water, he cried out to the world, startling the muggles around him before he turned on his heel and fled the place he had once called home for many, many years.
“Where do you want to go, Master?” Death asked, voice chill-inducing as Harry turned around from the seaside cliff, a salty breeze ruffling his hair as his Avada Kedavra eyes seemed to pierce into the Immortal’s soul.
“Away.” His voice broke, and Death held out a long, pale-white hand.
“I will take you to a place where you will no longer be plagued by the memories of Destruction.” Death whispered, as though it was a sin to speak of the future.
“What will happen?” Harry asked, voice slowly turning strong as a new, ferocious light overcame his façade of melancholy.
“You will venture to another world- one where it is safe for the people of Magic.” Death rasped, “Voldemort will be in rule, but you will needn’t worry- for you are his Consort.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“You will bond with the other version of yourself,” Death replied, “And you shall gain the memories of him. You will be Anew.”
Voice shaking, the Master of Death acknowledged, “I have nothing left to lose.”
Harry gave Death a broken smile.
He took Death’s patient, forgiving hand, and he was whisked off into another world.
Tom was bored.
He had recently been introduced to Draco Malfoy- Oh, what a pretty little thing- and was talking with Lucius about the boy, when he glanced at his Consort- Honestly, wouldn’t he just die already?- and he was acting strange. But what would he know?
He looked away when their eyes met- something was almost different about him, but what?- and turned back to Lucius.
“My Lord?” He questioned, looking behind him where Harry Potter had sat.
The King turned around, and to his uttermost surprise, Harry was standing up and walking towards them.
“My Lord.” He mumbled quietly, with a certain glint in his eyes, and Apparated away right in front of him.
Everyone looked their way, not making a sound, and when Tom nodded, they all turned back to their conversations.
After all, who cared about the Consort?
Laughing freely, Harry spun around in a full circle as fresh air hit him from all sides.
Sauntering towards the prison, where the previous Dark Lord lay in sight, he Summoned the Elder Wand to his hand.
Then he nocked.
The doors opened slightly, and then they were widened to the point where they could not be widened any more, and with a great push, there was Gellert Grindelwald, standing there in all his olden glory.
Recognition somehow swum beneath his aged eyes.
“I will be happy to serve you, Master of Death.” He said.
Harry grinned.