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Harry blinked open his eyes and looked around. The last thing he remembered was a bright green light and a high voice. A smooth oily voice that caressed his name in an almost loving manner before hissing, "Avada Kedavra!"
Ah. That would be Voldemort killing him. But where was he now?
Harry stood up and surveyed his surroundings. He had clothes on, but his glasses where nowhere to be found. Still, he could see perfectly. The boy turned around and realized he was in a restaurant.
No one was there though.
A rich American voice spoke, "Ah, Harry Potter. I've been expecting you. Do sit down."
Harry jumped and spun around, his brow furrowed as his gaze lighted upon the only other occupant in the restaurant. A thin man, probably tall when standing, in a suit with smooth dark hair.
"D- do I know you?"
"Yes... But only by reputation."
"Where am I?"
The man spread his hands, "In between- a sort of, limbo, I believe."
Something dinged and the man smiled faintly, "Ah finally!" A pizza appeared out of nowhere and the man delicately began eating. If one could 'delicately' eat a pizza.
The man looked up as he realized Harry hadn't moved any closer, "Sit down."
Harry did so.
"Who are you?"
"Death, of course."
Harry's mouth went dry and his eyes widened as a corner of Death's mouth quirked upwards, "Yes, it is me. Many of you seem to find it hard to believe." He finished cutting the pizza and brought a forkful of it to his mouth.
Harry's mind went blank and he blurted the first thing that came to mind, "Are you eating pizza?"
"I like the pizza."
Harry thought for a moment before questioning, "Did the Peverell's really trick you?"
Death scoffed, "I was never tricked."
Harry raised an eyebrow skeptically but Death continued eating his pizza.
A silent awkward moment of Death chewing and swallowing his bite passed before he spoke again, "You remind of two young men who helped me out of a... Tricky situation once. I think that I will give you a choice."
Harry tensed, "Who?"
Death waved his hand dismissively, "Not important. But I'm giving you a choice, you may go on and greet your parents or you may go back and become a parent yourself."
"So I can live... Or die?"
"Yes."
"Will I remember this?"
"No."
Harry frowned, "Is this even real? Is this happening inside my head?"
Death looked up and spoke smoothly, "Of course it is happening inside your head- but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"
"How can I be sure you're the death?"
Death smiled softly, "Oh, trust me- I am."
The room darkened and Harry shivered. He'd mistake the man's soft words and casual words as a fake, now he knew it was power. Lots and lots of power.
Harry studied the wood grains in the table as Death resumed eating. The boy finally looked up and took a breath, "I'd like to go back."
Death put his fork down and smiled again. An eerie smile that was a thin parody of friendliness. "As you wish, Harry."
Death wiped his hands and patted his mouth with a napkin before folding it in half and placing it on the table. Harry followed his movements as Death brought his palm to his mouth and blew across the top.
Everything cracked- splintering into dark specks, and the world dissolved.
When Harry woke up, instead of remembering a musty empty pizza parlor and meeting Death himself, he remembered station 9 3/4 and Dumbledore.
Though on rare occasions that friends ate pizza, he fancied a quiet yet powerful voice saying, "I like the pizza."