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Chapter Text

Harry Potter wasn't sure how to feel. He had killed Voldemort, but he felt hollow, like he was missing half of himself. Harry supposed that was the differentiation between before and after. Before he had the Horcrux, now Harry's soul had a gaping hole in it. He supposed he would get used to it, he had to. The world expected things from him, Harry knew that well. The Weasleys expected him to get back together with Ginny, get married, settle down, and start a family. While Harry wasn't opposed to having a family, he didn't want one so young.

He wanted to be older, have more experience to pass on, and the added fact that Harry wasn't sure he wanted a relationship anymore. Harry didn't feel a strong attachment to Ginny, and upon examination, he felt like their relationship had been forced. It also didn't help that he also realized that he felt more brotherly affection towards her then anything a very close examination of his feelings.

Harry felt exhausted, he had so many emotions conflicting within him, and he was being bombarded with letters from the fans he had all across England. He had Kreacher shut down the floo in Grimaud Place. Harry didn’t want any visitors be it Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, the Minister of Magic, or the bloody Queen of England herself. Kreacher was more than happy to do so, as he hadn’t really liked Hermione or Ron when they had stayed here, and happily shut down floo access to everyone except Harry or Andromeda and Teddy.

Though, Harry mused to himself, Kreacher had given Harry a rather stern lecture on missing diner, and if he wasn’t coming back soon, to inform Kreacher. Harry had even managed to work out an agreement with the portrait of Walburga, and now she was happily occupying the sitting room Harry often visited, and no longer screeched about Mudbloods and filthy blood-traitors.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was going to do next, be there for his godson, he supposed. Help run the Wizarding world, try not to die, and maybe, just maybe, be a teacher.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Harry was bereft of having simple dreams. Instead he dreamt of a tall figure draped in a cloak of black who wrapped him in a cloak of darkness, offering the peace, solitude, and safety Harry remembered from his cupboard. He also dreamt of woman who was adorned in a kaleidoscope dress who hugged him and whispered sweet nothings into his ear in languages he both did and didn’t understand.

When he woke, he didn’t notice the black runes that had inked themselves into his skin, runic chains littered all over his body. He didn’t notice the way magic started coming easier to him, the way wandless magic seemed to only require a thought or wish. He did notice, however, when months after the dreams had started, the Hallows that lay on his nightstand one morning.

In a moment of pure impulse, Harry held them. Then the Hallows seemed to melt into his hand, collaging into a black mark on his hand, the mark of the Deathly Hallows. Staring in shock at his hand, Harry began to panic. All together he began to notice the runes, the magic, and began to draw one startling conclusion.

He was the Master of Death.

Well, thought Harry, Maybe not Master, but something relating to Death. Only a fool could believe he could conquer and master Death.

Harry felt tears well up in his eyes, and he scrubbed his arm over them. Maybe his dreams had something to do with it, but who would Death be? The woman or the man? Or was Death both? Harry wished he could ask for the answers to the questions that were currently flying around his head. That was when he heard the thunderstorm voice echoing inside his room.

||Harry Potter, my chosen companion and the blessed Childe of Fate and Magic. Rise and hear what we have to say.||

*Oh my Chaos,* another voice said, both feminine and slightly masculine, *Death, have some tact and stop being dramatic.*

“Are you Death?” Harry said aloud to the empty room as he stood up and moved to the center of the room.

||I am Death, one voice said||, it’s thunderstorm tones quieting.

*And I’m Fate*, the other piped up in a cheery tone. *We are here to explain things to you, teach you, and offer you a choice, so ask away!* Death sighed, sounding exasperated, and cut off the other’s cheery speech.

||First Fate, we should manifest ourselves. And must you be so cheery? It gets old very fast, especially when you live as long as we do.|| Fate made a noise of agreement, and the two people from his dreams appeared. Fate’s kind smile rose to her lips as she stepped forward to embrace harry, her pale skin contrasting with his brown skin.

Fate rested her chin on his head and spoke in a tone that had Harry relaxing into her hold.

*Don’t worry, little one. The way ahead may be uncharted due to you choice on the decision we will give you, but know this. We will always be at your side, me and Death. You gathered his Hallows and had no wish to become the fabled ‘Master of Death’, and I chose you for who you are. You are so strong not to have broken already, and now you have somebody to lean on. Sleep, we will be here, then we will talk.*

And Harry slept.

Chapter Text

Harry had stopped caring about certain things a long time ago. The Dursley’s caused him to stop caring about people’s approval, getting love, and human life in general. Of course, when he had entered the Wizarding World, and Harry had heard their expectations, he had changed himself to befit their hopes. While Harry didn’t truly care about what other people thought, it was easier for him to move through life when he pretended.

When Harry woke up surrounded by warmth and arms curled around him, he reacted violently. It was a foreign feeling, like he was in the arms of a parent that cared about him, so he reacted violently. Harry shoved himself away and toppled off the bed and onto the floor.

Hissing at the pain that erupted in his back, neck, and back of his head. Staring blearily up at the ceiling, he pulled himself up, much to the protest of his back, and looked over across the bed. What he saw was slightly amusing, Death was wrapped around Fate, its dark skin standing out against Fate’s pale dress. Fate had obviously been wrapped around him, and now she was grumbling in her sleep.

Looking at the two, he noticed that Death had a more feminine form, then he looked at Death’s face, and immediately concluded that she was female. Death was unfairly, otherworldly beautiful, her dark skin and dark hair contrasting her red lips. Harry wasn’t attracted to Death, but he couldn’t but help to notice her beauty.

Opening her eyes sleepily, Fate stared at Harry and Harry stared at her. Confusedly, Fate spoke in soft tones, as to not wake up Death.
*What are you doing down there? You were sleeping up here with us last I remember. * Smiling softly, Harry spoke in the same quiet tones that Fate was using.
“I woke up and wasn’t expecting to be hugged. It startled me and I accidentally pushed myself onto the floor.” As Fate snorted, Death spoke up with a grumble
|| Can you both be quiet, some of us are trying to take a break and sleep? || Fate turned in Death’s arms as Harry sat on the edge of the bed and poked her in the nose. Death crinkled her nose and sat up drowsily. Looking at Harry she spoke with a very serious tone of voice.
|| Do you possess the ability to make the required substance that is needed to live that is called food? Because I am so bloody hungry. || Chuckling Harry got up and led both Fate and Death downstairs for food.

As they sat down and began to eat, Harry spoke up a few questions that had been on his mind since he woke up.
“What are you guys doing here? What’s happening to me? And why in Merlin’s beard am I so comfortable with you two? I’m usually super adverse to being touching new people.” It was all messing with his head, it was so out of character for him. Harry didn’t know what was going on and was worried that something was going on with him. As if sensing his concerns, Death swallowed her mouthful of food and began to speak.
|| When you gathered my three Hallows about a year ago, you didn’t wish to become my ‘master’. You also showed that you accepted death with open arms and are not afraid of dying. This has elevated you to my favour, but you have always been cherished by Fate.
You were a prophecy child that beat all the odds placed against them from the start. While Fate does not create prophecies, her decisions influence their creation. Those runes on your arms are claiming marks, they mark you as both mine and Fate’s child in all but blood.
With this comes both powers and a bond. We are considered your parents by magic and as same-sex pregnancy is rare, it creates a bond as strong as the one would be if you had been born to both me and Fate. You feel an emotional and physical connection so very strongly because it hasn’t had a chance to develop like it would during a natural same-sex pregnancy/birth.
During a same-sex pregnancy/birth, the baby depends on both parent’s magic while in the womb, and physical contact upon birth. The baby is supported by both, and without it, the baby will die. || After Death’s short, but admittedly helpful explanation, Fate began to speak up from where she sat next to Harry.
*I have always wanted a child, but by laws of the olden gods, was not allowed to conceive as only male-female partners were allowed. And then you were born to the world, dark haired, dark-skinned, and screaming your displeasure to the world. I always keep an eye on people of prophecy, for I would never allow some who was so heinously affected by my actions to flounder. But you, I soon grew attached to you, even before you were the small boy from the cupboard.
I wanted to take you away so badly but was again thwarted by the olden laws. Though now that you have been marked, and given immortality, I can claim you for my own. If you’ll have me of course. *
By the end of Fate’s emotional speech, her voice wavered, and she was looking as Harry both helplessly, and nervously, and oh how Harry wanted it. Fate and Death were offering Harry something he had buried deep down inside of him when he was the small boy from the cupboard under the stairs, a family. Someone to love him unconditionally, and would always be there for him, even in the darkest of moments.
After a few moments of deliberation, Harry said yes, and was embraced in a hug that was so much better than Mrs. Weasley’s. After a few minutes of hugging, Death cleared her throat and said to Fate,
|| You have yet to tell him about the offer we are to give him. || And Fate’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. She pulled away and seemed to start vibrating with excited energy.
*Death is right, I forgot to tell you. So, as our son, and a new olden god, we can officially help you to travel in time. Of course there are regulations, and the High King said that if you except, you can only travel to Tom Riddle’s fourth year, and change whatever you want without consequence. Of course, we will be there every step of the way! There is no way I am leaving my new son just after I got him! Though it is for you to decide. I know you feel as if you’ve lost purpose as all you’ve ever done was fight dark lords, and in wars. This would give you a marvelous opportunity, to help take down another Dark Lord, and change your future for the better.
Though, when you are down, you will be allowed to stay and live out your life till you’re a doggery old man and die, then you’ll join us as a god, though you can take one person with you. Again, as I said, this is all up to you, my son. *
Harry looked from Fate to Death and back again. He couldn’t believe that so many good things had happened to him in such a short period of time. Harry had made up his mind in short succession.
“Fuck it,” said Harry brazenly. “Why not fuck everything up, could be fun.” Fate and Death grinned maniacally, and Harry joined in.

Chapter Text

Of course, there were more complications to time travel than snapping your fingers, appearing in a different time, and making up a name with no records of existing at all. Firstly, Harry had to learn everything that came with being the “Master of Death” and Fate’s Favored.

As he soon learned later on, his magical core had grown into something befitting a god, and Harry was unfamiliar with the level of power that was currently house in his body. Plus, he had to come up with a new name, go to Gringotts, change it, and be continuously called that till he was used to it.

Death had Harry immediately start on exercises with his magic, starting from the very basic first year level things and working up. It surprised Harry when his Wingardium Leviosa had shot his block of wood through the roof, and up into the atmosphere and when his Stupefy completely obliterated the dummy. Death was also teaching him the necessary Master of Death necromancy training, ‘Can’t have you accidentally raising the dead, now can we?’

Necromancy was a complicated subject, Harry learned very soon, and it was such a broad subject. It covered raising the dead, soul magic, communicating with lost souls, and rituals to have partial immortality. When Harry originally found it astonishing at how easy it was at first, Death had told him it was a part of his Family Magicks.

|| Necromancy can be taught to anyone, but it has to be taught from a very young age, and even then, the person in question can never truly master Necromancy.

You, however, have blood of generations of Necromancers running through your veins running back all the way to Ignatius Peverell. Just because a Family Magicks hasn’t been used in a few generations doesn’t mean it isn’t there. In fact, your Necromancy magic is very strong because it hasn’t been used in years. It allowed the magic to cumulate and flourish. ||

This explanation partially confused Harry, if it was part of your family, passed down through generations, then why not use the magic at your disposal. Then he realized it. So called “dark magic” had been banned since around the time of Grindelwald. The magic used by Grindelwald’s forces was a mix between light and dark magic, but the dark magic had been banned by the Ministry. When he had consulted both the Black library and Death and learned that what the wizards of today considered “dark” isn’t actually dark.

Death had told him that the magic that should be banned is called Black Magic. Black magic was an addictive and destructive magic in its own right. Dark magic could be controlled and cleansed from your body without damage, while Black magic began to destroy the caster from the inside as soon as the sacrifice had been made.

Horcruxes were an example of Black magic being used to corrupt other magicks. Horcruxes were a mash-up of black magic and necromancy, the black magic allowing people without an affinity for necromancy to perform the soul-splitting magic.

After days of having filled his head with a large amount of new knowledge, Harry finally decided it was time to write to Gringotts. Harry was pleasantly surprised by the response he had received, for it had stated that Harry would be continued to be a customer for Gringotts, if he told the goblins about all the security measures he had encountered.

Four days later, Harry Potter walked out of Gringotts newly christened, Hadrian Peverell, Harry for short.

Harry would be the first to admit that he was bloody terrified. He faced a hulking man beast of a dog that had yellowish saliva dripping from yellow fangs, a breeze that carried the smell of rotting flesh emanating from the hanging mouth that slowly crept closer. The Grim was slowly limping towards him, had accidentally been conjured out of the shadows that lurked in the corners of the dueling room he had been training in.

Leaning back into the wall as the Grim came closer, he closed his eyes, ready for a bite of pain. Harry was extremely surprised when he felt a tongue lick up the side of his face. Turning he head and looking at the dog-like monster, the Grim looked more like an adorable, overgrown puppy than a creature that was an omen of death.

Now instead of terrified, Harry was confused as fuck. Shouldn’t the Grim have attacked him and torn him to shreds by now? An amused voice spoke up,

*He’s a being of Death. You are the companion of Death. You are similar beings; he would not attack you Hadrian. *

Turning his head around yet again, he saw Fate leaning on the doorframe, her clothes a causal sweatpants and t-shirt.

“So, what you mean to say,” Harry said, staring incredulously at the Grim who was now nosing his hand, “That he’s like a familiar of Death and he recognizes the Death magic I possess. Now he won’t attack me?”

*Correct, I also came here to tell you that your training is very nearly finished. We have a few final gifts to give you before you depart. *

Chapter Text

I am so fucking sorry that this isn't an actually post, but I have been arguing with myself since the beginning of December, and finally came up with the brilliant idea that I ask you all.

so.

do.

you.

want.

a.

Christmas

Special?

Bye.

(Please don't kill me.)

Speaking of which, I should have a new chapter out soon if nothing goes wrong.

Chapter Text

Harry had been so busy that he had forgotten it was nearing Christmas when Mrs. Weasley's owl had arrived. She had implored Harry to vest the burrow for Christmas, assuring he was welcome, and that she missed him, and hoped to see Harry soon. Harry still felt uncertain, why didn't Mrs. Weasley blame him for the death of her son, like a normal person would? As if she could hear his thoughts, which she probably could, Death spoke up from where her and Fate were cuddling on the couch across from him.

|| She feels like you are another son to her, and she would never blame you. Now you are wondering why, but the voice in your head is your survivors guilt talking. ||. Now Harry was confused, survivors guilt? He knew what he was and why Death would think he was feeling it, but it was his fault. It was very much his fault Fred, Colin, and so many others were dead, it was very much his fault that so many families felt the grief of losing a loved one that had passed on too early.

"I don't have survivors guilt. I know it is my fault."

* No Harry, it is not. They fought for what Voldemort threatened to take from them, their freedom. You just showed the rabble it was possible to fight, they made the decision to fight themselves. Now stop sulking, go outside, get gifts for them, and say goodbye after you celebrate with them one last time. * Fate chastened Harry. She knew he would miss them terribly after he left, but hopefully it would be lessened by spending time with the family and having the closure of a goodbye. Harry gave a soft smile, nodded, and left to go follow her advice.

Harry paced in front of the fireplace, feeling nervous and jittery. He had left Grimmauld Place under a glamour, and when he flooed to Diagon Alley, he was reminded of all the devastation Voldemort had brought to England. So many places still had boards covering the windows and people walking along the Alley looked around fearfully, as if waiting for someone to come out and attack them.

It had cemented Harry's decision to travel back in time, and if he couldn't help Tom Riddle change, then kill him before he harmed the world. But now, Harry's insecurities came rushing back, and he was worried about the Weasley's again. He heard someone approaching from behind and swung around to see Death coming up to him. When she reached him, Death squeezed Harry against her. Tucking her nose into Harry 's hair, she whispered words of encouragement, knowing Harry needed someone to bolster him.

Death was felt a sharp pain in her heart, Harry was damaged, so very damaged. His physical wellness was good now, he ate regular meals, was fit, and his scars had healed well, but it was Harry 's mental state she was worried about. Harry had a tendency to bottle everything up until he blew up, and then he brushed it off like nothing had happened. She hoped that another broken little boy she knew would help him, and that Harry would help him in return.

Pulling himself away from the motherly embrace, he smiled softly. He did that often Harry realized, smiling wasn't something he had often done in the past. Reaching into the floo powder pot, stepped into the flames and called out "The Burrow."

As Harry landed, he tumbled out into a pair of arms. Looking up, he saw Hermione's bushy hair and straightened up, and hugged her. Hermione gave a wet laugh, and clutched Harry closer. Harry hadn't seen Hermione in months and Merlin he missed her. He had forgotten how comforting her hugs were, and how safe he felt with her. He felt another pair of arms surround them, pale, freckled ones, and knew Ron had joined them.

All the guilt Harry felt came crashing back, why had he left them in the first place? These two people were the only ones he had truly trusted in his entire life. He had loved Dumbledore, and still did, but he didn't trust him. Dumbledore always had an agenda, but Hermione and Ron were the ones who supported him through everything, and stayed with him even when he blew up at them. Even if there were a few strained moments, their friendship was stronger because of it.

Harry felt tears soak his head and shoulders, and he started crying as well. They all fell to their knees, and held on for what felt like hours. Hermione was the first to pull back, wiping her face with her jumper sleeves. Then Ron pulled away, tear tracks littering his freckled face, and Harry wiped his eyes. It an extremely wet voice Harry whispered to them, as they weren't very far from each other

"I-I missed you guys so much." Harry's voice choked and cracked often in that simple sentence, but it was true. He had missed them so much it hurt.

"We missed you to idiot. Do you know how scared we were when the letters we sent you came back?" Ron choked out, month away from the first person to make him feel like he mattered had made him emotional. Hermione's eyes wouldn't stop leaking tears, but she had pulled herself together enough to slap Harry upside the head.

"Don't you EVER do that again Harry James Potter-"

"It's actually Hadrian Jameson Peverell now, Harry for sh-"

"I don't care at the moment. I can still call you Harry. You will stay in my sight, all right? I thought you had-" Here Hermione chocked on her words, as if it pained her to say them.

"We thought you might have been killed, kidnapped, or severely injured." Hermione sounded so broken Harry dragged her into his arms as he stood up.

"I'm here now, alright? I am alive, I am fine. I came here to enjoy Christmas with you all, and to see you two. I am so very sorry that I ignored your letters, but I needed the time alone, time to myself, time to gather my thoughts." Ron slapped Harry on the back, a small smile on his face.

"I think that's enough emotional stuff mate. Mum is cooking up a feast, and everybody's here to celebrate. Let's go greet everyone."

Mrs. Weasley had squeezed Harry to near death when he entered the kitchen, and Ginny did the same. When they sat down for the Christmas Weasley Feast, everyone had been happy to see him. Ginny had sat next to him, and kept flirting with him. He ignored it, and when the food was gone, they all moved to the living room to open the presents. Hermione and Ron had seen how uncomfortable he was with Ginny's flirting, and had Harry sit in between them. Harry got another Weasley jumper, a tiny model dragon, and a few other things.

Then a question he really didn't want to be asked was. He knew Mrs. Weasley meant well, but Harry wanted to avoid the problem.

"So Harry dear, when do you plan to get back together with Ginny? Everybody wants to know, you two looked so good together." Harry took a deep breath, and looked at Ron and Hermione, both of whom knew the answer to the question, he had talked with them earlier, and they both supported him.

"I don't plan to get back together with Ginny. I realize I love her as a sister, and I felt an attraction to her because she was something stable. I will not marry her or date her. I would not be happy, and I would never support a marriage where one or both do not love the other." Silence was met with this statement. As Ginny opened her mouth to say something, Harry hurriedly began talking.

"I also came here to tell you all about a recent decision of mine. I am leaving soon, and I don't know when I'll be back. I am traveling the world to learn more about the magical and muggle cultures. I wanted to tell you all goodbye, for closure for the both of us." At this Hermione blew up.

"You mean to tell me you're leaving? When you've just come back to us? Why didn't you tell us? We would go with you in a heartbeat! In fact-"

"I need the time Hermione, I have terrible PTSD, and I need to get away from all the reminders. I need time to heal my way, it's not you two. If I could, I would drag you both along with me, but I can't. Plus, you two have a life here, you both have a chance. I can't go outside as myself for two seconds without getting bombarded but rabid fans. I understand if you two don't wanna talk to me-" Harry's speech was cut off by Hermione dragging him and Ron into the kitchen and hugging Harry once they were out of sight of everyone.

"Harry, it's not the fact that you are traveling for an indefinite period of time," She stopped at Harry's raised eyebrow and corrected herself, "Okay, it is a little bit, but it's more of the fact that you didn't tell us. We will always support you, you're our brother Harry, nothing can change that fact that we love you." Harry smiled at her and thought about how even if he was leaving, this was his second favorite Christmas, right after the first one at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Apparently, ‘almost ready’ by Fate and Death’s standards was seven long months. In that time, Harry spent time with Teddy, Andy, Hermione, and Ron. Harry had been secretly compiling a photo album with pictures of all of them.

Teddy being the most adorable baby on earth, Andy and Hermione’s academic debates, and Ron thrashing Harry at chess. Pictures of them being a happy family. Harry wanted to remember and look back on the times he had with his family. Harry had even managed to obtain photographs of the Golden Trio at school, along with a few of Neville and Luna included, and even a rare few of the DA.

While some could call Harry sentimental, the people he was surrounded by were the first people to accept him for who he was, and actually care about him. Harry loved them and they loved him, and that was good enough for Harry.

Harry was in a somewhat state of shock. Death had just waved her hand and gave him access to Animagus form. He felt the animal’s presence hovering on the edge of his consciousness, its thin, leathery wings flapping in nervous agitation. The massive skeletal body quivered with anticipation, as well as the residue feelings of shock that flittered through his body and mind, affecting the Animagus as well.

Harry had never thought that an Animagus animal would have a presence in Animagus’ mind. His thoughts were taken into an abrupt halt as Death began to speak.

|| Very rarely does an Animagus have the form of their animal in their mind. As your animal is a magical one, and the added effect that it is under my domain, and you have meet one before, creates a mental animal. It should also help you with the first few transformations and allow you to speak with the creatures that are your animal. ||

Harry gaped at her, then shook his head to clear his thoughts and , ignoring the indignant whinnying that erupted from the beaked animal’s mouth, he started on a slight rampage.

“Yes, that is all well and good, but a Thestral?! I don’t even understand how I managed to have a Thestral as my Animagus Animal! I know they’re not overly dangerous and are only classified a serious threat because they can only be seen by people who’ve seen death, but really?! It’s not that I have problem with my Animagus form, I just have no fucking clue how I got one as my Animagus Animal!”

*Because, Harry. Thestrals represent darkness and death, and you have been touched by death several times. Not to mention that Thestrals are very blunt and intelligent creatures, they thrive in the darkness, just like you do. Thestrals are also powerful in their own right, and their capabilities are often underestimated. You should be proud to have such a magnificent creature as your Animagus form. Now, I suggest trying to shift, I’ll clear a space for you,* Here Fate lifted her hand and snapped her fingers from where they had been previously resting on Harry’s shoulder, and the room flurried until there was a massive space in the center of the room.

Pushing Harry into the center of the empty space, Fate stepped back to give him room, and stared sternly. Shifting sheepishly, Harry closed his eye, and reached his metaphorical mental fingers to touch the Thestral that resided within his mind. He pleaded with it to help him; Harry had meant no offense. Harry found that he instinctively he knew facts about Thestrals that he’d never been recorded before, and slightly relished it.

The Thestral before his mental being snorted softly, before stepping forward and melding with him. On the outside, Harry felt his body shifting into a different, more horse like form. When he opened his now milky eyes, Harry saw things in much greater clarity, and even observed that souls of Kreature and the various Muggles that live in the surrounding buildings.

Opening his mouth to say something, he noticed his voice sounded slightly different. Pushing it aside in favour of showing off just the slightest bit.
§ See, I can fucking cooperate with my animal. I can fucking shift. Booyah. §

|| Harry, || Death said amusedly, || Only I can currently understand you in this form, though Fate can understand a few words. You are speaking the language of the dead, spoke only by the dead and creatures favoured by me. ||

§ I knew my voice sounded different. Fuck. I can speak this in human form as well? §

|| Yes. || Death responded with a slight smirk. She was clearly enjoying Harry’s apathetic response to the new revelation. || Though it will be significantly harder. In your Thestral form, the natural language they speak is that of the dead. Alive humans were not meant to speak the language of the dead, so it will take practice. ||

§ Yes, § Harry said, his apathetic tone gaining a slightly panicky quality to it. § So, um. How do you, uh, ya know. Change back? §

Death burst out laughing, and after a few moments of trying to stifle it, Fate joined in. Harry stood there extremely disgruntled, his wings shifting in agitation.

Chapter Text

After a few hours of irritating attempts to shift and failing, Harry finally managed to turn from Thestral to human. Throughout the whole process Death and Fate had collapsed into giggles and were no help.

After they all had collected themselves, they migrated downstairs and ate a filling dinner. Then Harry dragged both of his mothers upstairs, to the sitting room Walburga occupied, to talk about what would happen in the near future.

“I have two questions about going back in time. First is how. How am I going back? Second, when will I be going back?”

*When we go back in time, me and Death will accompany you. The time will be in Tom Riddle’s fourth year, as the farthest Time will allow us to reduce your age to is 14, although, when you were 14 you could have passed as 13. *

Harry gave an impressive glare, though Fate smiled at him like he was a cute kitten she couldn’t help but indulge.

“It’s not my fault that the Dursley’s didn’t feed me sometimes, and that malnutrition stunted my growth.” Fate and Death’s eyes darkened at the reminder that their son had been abused in his childhood and teenage years. Fate and Death wanted to orchestrate the violent and brutal deaths of the Dursley family, but ancient law forbade them from directly interfering with mortal affairs.

When Harry saw the dark look in his parent’s eyes, he quickly moved to change the subject. “So, you two will be coming back with me? I can see how that would explain my skin colour, and where I’ll be living.” Pulling herself from her darker thoughts, Death nodded her head.

|| Yes, the combination of my dark skin and Fate’s pale tones would explain your skin tone, though the genetics for that to actually happen are rare. Fate will pretend to be the estranged Arya Peverell-||

“The name suits her.”

|| Pardon? ||

“Well, in India the name means ‘Noble Goddess’, or, depending on the spelling, ‘Lioness’.” Harry blushed heavily. Fate drew herself together and hugged Harry to her while gesturing to Death to finish her explanations.

|| As I said, Fate will be the estranged Arya Peverell, and I will be her loving wife that she met in Africa, Kalisha. You are our birth son and was stolen from us at a young age. This would account for Fa – Arya’s clinginess, and the malnutrition and abuse you have suffered, as we cannot magic that away.

The scars you have will be consistent with the ones on your 17-year-old body, and most will be obtained within the years of your capture. Though others you would get from your adventures all over the globe with us.

It’s your decision which scars to not talk about Hadrian, as those ones will be gained from your years of captivity. ||

Another month later, and everything had been ironed out, and Harry had said his goodbyes. Tears had been shed, and he felt his heart ache at leaving his friends and family behind. But it was for the best.

Harry was leaving to (hopefully) change the future, and his friends would have a life that didn’t have war, loss, and utter hopelessness plaguing them.

Harry would have said it was for the greater good, but that was what Dumbledore said, and thinking about Dumbledore hurt. The man that was his pseudo Grandfather, and Harry loved him, and it hurt.

It hurt to think that while Harry loved Dumbledore, Dumbledore didn’t love Harry. Severus Snape had been right in one aspect, that he was raised like a pig for slaughter. Dumbledore knew he was a Horcrux.

Dumbledore knew Harry most likely needed to die to kill Voldemort. Though, Harry soon learned, that if Dumbledore looked hard enough, there was a way to remove the soul from the container.

Now, because Harry was a human horcrux, the ritual might have harmed him, but Harry was sure that with enough time, Dumbledore could have changed it, the man was a genius after all.

But now he had to let bygones be bygones. Harry loved Dumbledore, but he also hated him. The whole situation was rather oxymoronic enough for Harry to just push it to the side.

For now, he was grasping the arms of his mothers, who were newly christened Arya and Kailsha. They stood in the middle of a runic layout, which was softly glowing with a light that seemed to grow brighter.

Soon they were surrounded by a soft white light, and Arya, Kalisha, and Hadrian Peverell were taken to the past.

Chapter Text

Getting sent back in time stand up was probably not the best idea Harry ever had. Landing flat on his arse and tailbone hurt like holy fucking hell, and he felt like an idiot for not realizing that this would happen. With his reputation with magical transport, it wasn’t surprising that he had failed miserably at landing on his feet like Arya and Kailsha did.

Gripping the hand that appeared in front of his face, Harry pulled himself up with the help of Arya. Wincing at the pain that radiated from his rear, Harry blinked when a Pain-Reliving Potion that was shoved in his face. Kailsha had a small smirk on her face as she pulled the cork on the potion and gestured vaguely at him.

|| We know how… well you do with magical transport, and since we were standing up you would most likely fall down, so we prepared a Pain-Reliever Potion for you. ||

Not sure whether or not to be thankful or slightly insulted, Harry took the potion and downed it with all the gusto of a veteran of the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts and grimaced only slightly.

Looking around, Harry took in the cozy surroundings of the living room they had landed in. Squashy couches and armchairs sat facing the fireplace, bookshelves full of books sat against the walls, and hand-knitted blankets were draped over the seats.

The fireplace was blazing, and when Harry looked around, he could see the elegant yet familial dining room, and the spacious kitchen. Upstairs had two bedrooms and a bathroom, both beautiful, and relaxing. The master bedroom was painted a sleepy blue and decorated with dark wood.

Harry’s room was white with light wood, and had a window opening to the backyard. The bathroom had been decorated with the sea in mind and was both spacious and beautiful. Everything in the house was both spacious and cozy, and Harry loved it.

The backyard wasn’t so much as a backyard, as it was a wide-open plane full of hills, looking remarkably like the Scottish countryside. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see a forest that was densely covered with shrubbery. The mid-day sun counter-acted with the cool air that wrapped around him as soon as he stepped outside.

Harry officially found himself in love with the place and turned around to grin at his parents. This was his home, and he had his family, everything would be alright.

As it turned out, the small cottage they lived in was lovingly named, ‘The Cottage on the Hill’ and located in the beautiful countryside of Scotland. It wasn’t much of a surprise to Harry, who had spent six years on the Scottish countryside when he went to Hogwarts and was accustomed to the weather.

It was summer, which shocked Harry a little bit until he remembered that in England there was a few weeks of brutal summer heat, then it was mostly warm/cool for the rest of summer. Scotland was right on top of England, why would it be too different?

*Harry! Hurry up! We need to go to Diagon Alley to get your school things and some more potions ingredients! * With an excited grin, Harry slid down the stairs where he was met with Arya, who wrapped her arm around his shoulders as she led him to the fireplace. Kailsha stood next to the mantel with a bag of money hanging from her belt, and a handful of floo powder. After calling out ‘DIAGON ALLEY’ she stepped in, and Arya and Harry closely followed.

When Harry very nearly tumbled out of the fireplace, Arya gripped him tightly, and lifted him up so he wouldn’t fall over. Waving her ‘wand’ (which was just some wood fashioned to look like a wand, because really, what mortal wand could harness the full power of Fate and Death), Kailsha vanished all the soot that could have accumulated om them in their floo travel.

|| Hadrian dear, why don’t you head down to Flourish and Blots’ to get your school books while me and your मां head over to Scrivenshafts to get your parchment and other such things. ||
With a nod of his head, Harry headed off down the Alley to Flourish and Blots’. Harry easily navigated the crowed alley while keeping an eye on his target. While Harry browsed to the book, he was startled to hear someone clearing their throat behind him. Figuring it was a shop assistant, Harry turned around to say ‘no he didn’t need help and thank you for asking’ when he saw a girl his age standing behind him who looked remarkably like Luna Lovegood.

“Hello.” She said in that same dazed, dreamy voice as Luna, “My name is Selina Lovegood, it’s nice to meet you. The Gibbering Jabberwobies said someone who would be a good friend was here. I hope you are who they were talking about, you seem like you would be a nice friend.” Harry was thrown off kilter, she was almost identical to Luna, although Luna dressed much less sensibly than Selina Lovegood did.

Not knowing what else to say, Harry spoke, his words tumbling out in a mess of words.

“You seem like a nice person as well- not to say that you’re not! I mean, I would love to be your friend, I’ve only had a small few before an I- oh sorry I’m jabbering aren’t I- ‘’ Harry’s mess was cut off by soft giggling. Selina’s eye glittered with mirth, and she smiled cutely.

“You seem like a little bit of a mess, but it’s okay, we’ll be good friends, I can tell.” Well, Harry wanted to say, it’s not like you meet one of your friend’s dead Grandmother every day, I’m usually more composed, in a very sarcastic tone. Instead he just smiled and stuck out his hand.

“Sorry about my word vomit earlier, my name’s Hadrian Peverell, and I would like to be your friend.” Selina smiled back at him and shook his hand.

“Well met Hadrian Peverell. I can tell this is the start of a great friendship.” And so, Hadrian made his first friend in the past.

Chapter Text

“Selina!” Selina turned around and saw Hadrian rushing toward her, his green jumper slightly askew, black trousers surprisingly neat, hair everywhere, and his mothers taking long strides just behind him. Mrs. Arya looked she was about to sprint after him, while Mrs. Kailsha looked as composed as she always was.

When Hadrian caught up to her, he didn’t bend over and pant, though he was breathing a bit heavier than usual. His dark skin had glittered slightly with sweat, and his smile was almost blinding.

“Thanks for waiting, I guess we almost missed the train.” Selina giggled softly, and she tugged him into a hug. Hadrian stiffed, then returned the hug gently. So, the Hibbering Hifflers had been right, her friend was both tactile, but was nervous with touch.

She knew that he was going into fourth year, even though he looked like he was thirteen, as she knew all things. She just knew, and sometimes, that made all the difference.

“Hurry Hadrian, before we miss the train!” With a laugh, she took off, dragging Hadrian behind her, a quirky smile blooming on his lips.

Harry pulled them both to a stop right outside the familiar scarlet steam train, Arya and Kailsha just behind, Kailsha impeccable as ever, while Arya was a smidgen disheveled. Turning to them both, Harry wrapped them in the tightest hug he could muster, and grinning when they returned it with just as much intensity.

When Harry pulled away, Arya began to fret over his hair, and making sure he had everything.

“Trunk? ”

“Yeah”

“Your snake? ”

“Of course.” Arya ran over several items before she drew him into another hug and whispered into his ear,

“Be safe, and please write often” When Arya drew back, Kailsha came forward and hugged him as well, and kissed the top of his head.

Gesturing to move onto the train, Harry and Selina moved off to find an empty compartment.

When they found an empty compartment, they settled down, and Harry felt Jörmungandr poke his head out from under Harry’s sleeve, hissing a little as the temperature difference.

Selina’s interest was immediately aroused.

“What kind of snake is that?”

“A Norwegian Thunderer, his name is Jörmungandr.”

“Yer-mund-gander?” Selina said, butchering the name.

“No, Your-mun-gander.” Harry said, slowly, enunciating it clearly.

“Like the Norse world serpent, the god of chaos, and the fated crusher of the world?” Selina asked calmly, though she did raise an eyebrow.

“The one and only.” Harry replied, his face a blank page, and Selina gave an unlady-like snort.

Harry soon began to turn the discussion from his snake, asking several questions, with answers he mostly already knew, about Hogwarts.

“What’s your house Selina? When I hear people talking about Hogwarts, they mention four houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. What the fuck do they even mean?” Selina turned to him, a slightly intense look in her eye.

“Well Hadrian, I myself am in Ravenclaw, which is supposedly the house of the smart, while Gryffindor is the house of the brave, Slytherin the house of cunning, and Hufflepuff the house of the loyal.

Every one of us gets sorted by the sorting hat, which determines which house you get into. Every house has a prejudice against another. Almost the whole school hates the Slytherins, while the Slytherins mostly hate the Gryffindors. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are often neutral in most cases.

Unfortunately, that is the way Hogwarts has been since the beginning supposedly. I have friends in all the houses, but some of my favourite people are from Slytherin. I can tell you’ll either be a Slytherin or Gryffindor, because you seem to be an equal mix of both.” Harry wasn’t quite sure what to say, but he smiled and asked,

“Tell me about the castle,” And so she did.

When the Hogwarts Express stopped in Hogsmeade, Harry followed Selina to the Thestral drawn carriages. He ignored the impulse to talk with them and sat next to Selina.

Soon the carriages started moving, and after a while, Harry got his first glimpse of Hogwarts in the past.

Chapter Text

Harry’s breath stuttered when Selina led him into the entrance hall, which could have been mistaken for awe at the great castle. The last time Harry had been at Hogwarts, he had died, and the building was almost demolished.

To see his home as it had been when he was eleven, was a wonderful experience that filled him with a warm joy. As nerve racking as the entire experience was, it filled him with a warmth that tingled in his toes. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw an auburn-haired man draped in green robes approach him and Selina. He turned his head and Harry’s breath almost stopped; it was Dumbledore.

Harry’s mixed feelings about Dumbledore after the war had always conflicted inside him, and the joy and deep-seated anger that spiked within him shocked him.

With a genial smile on his face, Dumbledore stopped in front of them.

“Hello, I am Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore, and you must be one of the transfer students. Hadrian Peverell, correct?” Harry took a deep breath in an effort even his nerves.

“Yes sir, I’m Hadrian Peverell, my family and I are grateful that Hogwarts had allowed me entrance through it’s doors.” Harry made sure to thicken his miscellaneous accent every so slightly. It would have been suspicious if he had a complete British accent after traveling the world, as Arya had pointed out, so Death gave Harry one, after claiming that she was too lazy to train him.

Dumbledore’s smile was still plastered on his face as he offered his hand.

“Well then, if you would follow me, I will lead you to sit with the rest of the transfers, then your sorting.” Selina hugged Harry’s arm, and then let go. With a smile on her face she waved and skipped into the Great Hall, vanishing into a gaggle of students.

Following Dumbledore as he stepped forward, Harry ignored Dumbledore almost completely, only keeping enough mind as to not get lost following Dumbledore. Harry drank in the familiar surroundings, the stones and the portraits. It struck Harry yet again how much he had missed Hogwarts, and how much it also plagued him with the images of rubble and dead bodies.

The unwanted images were shaken from his head when Dumbledore abruptly stopped in front of a wooden door, with Harry nearly slamming into Dumbledore’s back. Dumbledore turned to face Harry and smiled again.

“This is where the rest of the transfers are, along with the first years, all of them waiting to be sorted. I do suggest you try to make friends, as it will make your time at Hogwarts all the better.” With that Dumbledore walked off, heading back towards the Entrance Hall. Harry pushed the door open and lowered his head as he passed through the doorway, heading to where he saw other, older kids.

Harry settled next to a younger teenager, a girl with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes, and rested himself against the wall. He took the time to observe the other people in the room. The small-looking first years were both huddling together and trying to avoid each other. The other teenagers, whom Harry assumed were the other transfers, were all standing along the edges of the wall.

There were two that looked almost glued together and were most likely twins by their identical brown eyes and hair. The rest were scattered about, either younger or older than Harry himself. His continued observations were cut off when Dumbledore opened the door and instructed them to follow him.

When they reached the doors to the Great Hall, Dumbledore yet again instructed them, this time to fall into three single-file lines. The exact same speech Professor McGonagall had given him, back when Harry had first come to Hogwarts, filtered through his ears with Dumbledore’s voice instead of his beloved Professor.

Harry felt almost mindless as Dumbledore’s speech ended, and he followed the others into the Great Hall. His gaze passed over the House tables that spanned out from the center of the Great Hall.

He heard the excited exclamations of the first years as they took in the beautiful, starry ceiling that he remembered feeling awed about when he was younger. He looked off to the side again and locked eyes with Tom Riddle.

Harry’s breath hitched and he quickly tore his sight from the younger version of the boy in the Chamber of Secrets. Trying not to hunch in on himself, Harry lifted his head to stare at the back of the head of the girl in front of him.

All of the little firsties had been sorted into their Houses and now the transfers were being sorted. The girl Harry had stood next to was named Jaqueline Beauregard, and the twins were Anne and Hector Fischer. As the names sauntered down to Peverell, Harry could feel his hands start to sweat with nerves, and almost jumped when heard Dumbledore call his name.

With slightly unsteady steps, Harry has made his way to the stool the hat sat on. As he got closer Dumbledore lifted the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head. Almost immediately Harry heard the Sorting Hat’s deep voice.

It’s not every day you see a time traveler. Especially one favoured by Fate and Death. Now, let’s take a look at you, and hope that we place you in the right place this time. Ah, you are a true warrior, I see in your battles your Lion’s power. Your Snake’s cunning shows in your darkest moments. You show strong cunning and bravery, but you have wisdom a man your age should not possess, and you have worked hard all your life. Your loyalty to those you love is admirable, and has lead you through most of your life.

Now where you need to be is more important. You have the bravery you need, along with the smarts for you to know when you need to be manipulative.

I know, better be RAVENCLAW.

Harry stood shocked as clapping rang through the hall and followed his feet to where Selina sat at the Ravenclaw table. Selina grabbed his hand and dragged him down to sit at the table, and Harry’s mind cleared enough to grab food and start eating.

Chapter Text

I am incredibly sorry about this, but I am putting this book on a SHORT HIATUS. I am not abandoning Mockingbird, but I am confronted with severe writer's block, and I have other projects in the works that I have plenty of Ideas for.

I promise to come back to this book, and I will.

I REPEAT THIS BOOK IS NOT ABANDONED.

I also need the time to revise Mockingbird, as I have become slightly unsatisfied with the first few chapters, and the flow of the story. I will not be abandoning Mockingbird, but I feel I need to work on other stories that have yet to be published.

Again, I have extreme writers block on where to go for this book, and I just need time to get over this.

I am so incredibly sorry, but my needs come before the book and I don't want writing to feel like a chore.

If you feel the need to berate me in the comments for taking a small break, I hope you feel good about yourselves.

It's an asshole thing to do, and I really hope nobody does it.

Have a wonderful day/night ~ SarcasticSunshine/MachiavellianMadMan

Chapter Text

Breakfast the next morning was the same as it always was while he was in Hogwarts, amazing. Harry had gotten up early, a habit he had struggled to break after the war, the nightmares dogging his every step.

Selina had accosted him a few minutes after he had sat down at the Ravenclaw table, shaking her head at the abysmal amount of food on his plate. She had piled on a bit more, and then stared him down as he ate it. When he was done, she began to eat her own food, humming happily.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Harry asked. “You look about ready to burst, and no sane person is that happy this early in the morning.”

Selina quirked her lips, the tea in her mug saturated with cream, her voice chipper when she spoke. “The Nargles said today would be a good one, and I’m back at Hogwarts, and this time with a friend. The morning is fresh and the day is fine. It will definitely be a good one.”

==================================================================

It was most definitely not a good day. Though Selina and Harry shared most of their classes, the teachers often separated them with class seating. It was something new, something he hadn’t really encountered in the future, but he couldn’t do anything about it. The Charms teacher was young, and tended to babble on about the subject he was talking about, not really teaching them anything.

Most of his classes had been normal, and Harry made sure he was never on top, but never the bottom either. It was rather easy when you knew the material to be a good student, but nothing extraordinary. Everything got fucked up slightly when he entered the Divinations classroom though. Harry didn’t know what he had been expecting, but he was most definitely not expecting to have the teacher scream as soon as she saw him, backpedaling so hard, she toppled over a table, knocked herself out, and had to be taken to the Hospital Wing.

The class had hung around the tower awkwardly until the time for the next class came, scurrying away from the tower in a rush. It was enough trouble for him that day, until he got to Transfiguration, where he was stuck in a room with both Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore.

He was hoping that he would get to sit next to Selina, hoping to ease the uncomfortable feeling he knew he was radiating. Nope. Some deity must have had it out for him because he was put next to Tom Fucking Riddle. A steady inward sigh, and a quick prayer for the strength to put up with this bullshit, Harry sat down next to Tom Riddle, and stared at the chalkboard. Maybe if he focused hard enough he could burn two holes into the board. Maybe, Harry could get Dumbledore in the crossfire-

“Excuse me, I do believe I haven’t introduced myself, Tom Riddle.” Harry stared at the hand offered to him, and slowly shook the hand, suppressing a flinch when he felt warm skin instead of cool, scaly flesh.

“Hadrian Peverell.” He muttered, dropping the hand quickly, trying to regain his senses as they wizzed about in his mind. He tried his best to ignore the boy sitting next to him, focusing on Dumbledore’s lecture about the spell they were learning.

Harry could feel the irritation Riddle felt, he expected to not be ignored, Harry supposed. Harry might try to interact with Riddle sometime later in the year, but right now Harry needed to get his shit together. He needed to sort out the fact that he wanted to both hug and violently murder Ablus Dumbledore, and didn’t even want to touch the shitstorm that was Voldemort at the moment.

So Harry did what all wizards did best, and ignored the fuck out of his problems.

==================================================================

At lunch, Harry slumped down at the table, pressing his face into his golden plate, wishing he could click his fingers and solve everything like a fairy godmother. Selina just looked amused at his suffering. Meanie.

Pulling together his shreds of sanity, Harry reached for some food, and ate to keep his mind off of things. He didn’t give any fucks about anything at the moment, Harry decided. He just wanted his stomach full, and his classes done so he could crash at the Ravenclaw tower.

In Potions, he was finally paired with Selins, and together they managed to make an excellent Calming Draught. Harry wished he could take one right now, to calm his buzzing mind.

Classes passed by in a blur, and so did dinner, and the common room finally brought him out of the haze he had sunk in. Harry’s head was on Selina’s shoulder as she worked on homework.

It scent of fire, jasmine, rainstorm, and old books followed him into his sleep, and that night, he dreamt of something beautiful.

Chapter Text

I'm very, very sorry about not updating for so long, and that this isn't a new chapter, and i feel like a need to give you all an explanation - especially after the only hiatus.

I haven't felt very satisfied with this story recently, and haven't really felt motivated to update it, and that's not including my bad episodes with depression recently. I have not been having a good time, and am feeling so guilty, so I decided to give an explanation. I'm not going to abandon this story, but it WILL be revamped. It is not what i imagined it to be at the moment, and it's the first fic i ever posted.

I jumped into it without a plan, and that was a bad idea. It's overwhelming, but I plan on creating an outline, and actually trying to make this a story i could be happy with. Again, i am so sorry that this is not a real chapter, and that it's going to be a while before there is any new content, but I would be so, so very happy if you could hang in there with me while i deal with everything around me and this story.

I'm really honestly trying here, and remaking all my works to make me happy isn't going to be easy, but i'd again, be so happy if you stuck with me.

I don't really know what else to say, and if you want to leave this story, do so. I ask that you don't put hate in the comment, but there's not much i can do about that. I am informing every one of my ongoing stories about this remaking, so if you're following any of those, you might get something similar.

love,

SarcasticSushine