Description: The Master of Death is not to live and not to die. He is bound to fate forever, to fight and fight and fight. Living for eternity, to be a soldier in one way or the next. Sent to worlds so that he can right the balance. Not too much death, not too much life. To kill and to save.Harry Potter sits on a train bench in a place that does not exist and a time that has gone by, and contemplates his life. He thinks of his job, and realizes that his life is simply put, unfair. He should get a refund, or should lodge a complaint with the higher powers. At the very least, he deserves a vacation.Or, how Harry Potter gets to relive his life with express purpose of does whatever the hell he wants, because after everything he’s done he deserves a break, and if that means causing as much chaos as possible, then so be it.
Characters: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Major Character DeathHarry Potter & Original Character(s)Harry Potter Death (Harry Potter) Hermione Granger Draco Malfoy Blaise Zabini Theodore Nott Neville Longbottom Luna Lovegood Original Muggle Character(s) Original Male Character(s) Original Female Character(s) Pansy Parkinson Daphne Greengrass Fred Weasley George Weasley Ron Weasley Tom Riddle | VoldemortMaster of Death Harry Potter Time Travel Fix-It This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think Chaos Crack Humor Vampires Goblins Centaurs Basically many species Magically Powerful Harry Potter Criminal Harry Potter He’s so bored Harry Potter Does What He Wants Smart Harry Potter Tom Riddle is His Own Warning Harry Potter is a Little Shit Harry Potter Has a Saving People Thing Feral Harry Potter This bad boy can hold so much chaos! The Author Regrets Nothing Author Is Sleep Deprived The Author Regrets Everything BAMF Harry Potter No Beta We Die Like Harry Potter Commentor’s Ideas Get Added!! looking for beta Not Beta Read Albus Dumbledore Bashing we do not stan manipulating abused children into child soldiers here
The Master of Death is not to live and not to die. He is bound to fate forever, to fight and fight and fight. Living for eternity, to be a soldier in one way or the next. Sent to worlds so that he can right the balance. Not too much death, not too much life. To kill and to save.Harry Potter sits on a train bench in a place that does not exist and a time that has gone by, and contemplates his life. He thinks of his job, and realizes that his life is simply put, unfair. He should get a refund, or should lodge a complaint with the higher powers. At the very least, he deserves a vacation.Or, how Harry Potter gets to relive his life with express purpose of does whatever the hell he wants, because after everything he’s done he deserves a break, and if that means causing as much chaos as possible, then so be it.
Right so this is my very first work ever, and I doubt anyone will read it, but just in case, don’t judge me too much?
Chapter 1: local man has not been paid or given leave for years, complains to authorities
There is a tale ¨C a fantastical, impossible fairy tale. It¡¯s a tale of greed and power, of sacrifice, of young love and young ambitions, of death and stones, of wands and loyalty, of a broken man who tried to break the world, of a broken man who broke his soul, and a boy who – apparently ¨C has succeeded where they both failed and conquered Death.But the Master of Death is not to live and not to die. He is bound to fate forever, to fight and fight and fight. Living for eternity, to be a soldier in one way or the next. Sent to worlds so that he can right the balance. Not too much death, not too much life. To kill and to save.
But oh, he’s tired. He knows he can never be at peace, be with the ones he loves because Death is not for him. Death will never take him. He is cursed to walk the path till Life itself ends.( He¡¯d been born to fight, been raised as a puppet. Gained purpose in war, death, then survival. )A prophecy was made and suddenly the fate of the world rested on his shaky, underfed shoulders and everyone thought he was their messiah but he was just a child who never had a childhood and can’t they see that he’s scared and he’s trying. Nobody ever held his hand and told him it would be alright if he failed because he should not bear this weight at such a young age. Nobody ever thought of him as more than a weapon. That maybe he didn’t want to fight at all.He never chose to defy Death. In fact, he embraced it. Death had always been a part of his life ever since he can remember. An infant who’s family is torn apart. An orphan who lives in a tiny little cupboard and counts his injuries while dreaming of parents who love him. A child who faces Death every year and accepts the idea of dying but only stays because he can’t let his friends die and he must protect protect protect. He never looked to be immortal, whether by a stone or by a horcrux or by hallows straight out of a fairytale. Maybe that’s why he alone united the three. Even though he didn’t mean to. The wand of power, wanted only to keep it from the hands of those who would use it for destruction. He never wanted the power, because he understands that the power comes with responsibility, and he’s already responsible for too much. The stone. It should have been the most tempting. He’d lost more than anyone else he knew. Still, the stone that would bring the dead back was only used to give him the confidence to walk to his certain death and leave his friends alive to fight in his place. The cloak that would hide him from the gaze of Death. He never hid though, did he? Always ready to be a sacrifice. To die in the place of others.
He never chose this, but who would listen to him? All he’s ever wanted was to be normal. Not a freak. A normal child with parents and friends and who doesn’t know the horrors of war. Who doesn’t know what it’s like to die of starvation, or the cold, or die screaming and tortured. But alas, he is Fate’s bitch. It would have been easier perhaps, to accept and embrace his destiny if he had a choice.
He’s never had a choice. Not when he survived as a baby, defying all odds, or when he curled up in the cupboard, hoping he would be fed. Not when a half giant swept him off to another world where he would still be stared at and the word ‘freak’ would come to his mind. Where whispers would follow him and no matter what he did, he would never be free of those prying eyes. Not when he was forced to meet his parents murderer, again and again as a child, because the adults simply would not deign to listen. Not when he thrust into a war of a world he didn’t know and was expected to fight. Choose a side.Looking back, he despised who he had been. The naive child who thought the world was black and white, and that there weren’t a million shades of grey in every person he had seen. Being the Master of Death helped. Death and Life were two sides of the same coin, and now he knew that the Dark Arts weren’t evil any more than the Light was good. They were both two sides of magic, and both could be used for good or evil. His mother had saved him with a dark ritual, and he himself had been tortured enough with spells considered light. God, they had all just been children. They were children who were thrust into a war and who never had the chance to live. Harry had never been a child, he had never learnt to trust adults, because trust meant betrayal, and betrayal meant death. They were broken children who became nothing more than weapons in the hands of men who thought to play at God.
He is reborn again and again, as a prince or assassin or beggar or warrior or even just a boy. He’s always just that little bit different from the rest, an inexplicable thing. Between each life though, he sits on a bench in Death’s train station. It is bright, it is clean, and you can have anything you want simply by thinking about it.
It is beautiful, it fills him with a sense of homehomehome and he hates it. Loathes it with every fibre of his being. Because here, at the juncture of life and death, this is where he first made the mistake of choosing to go back, of unknowingly accepting the Hallows. And the Hallows have waited for so long for a master, someone to unite them again, that now they will never let him go. He is not the Master of Death, he is Death’s Servant. Also, Death is an asshole.Harry Potter sits on a train bench, and contemplates his life. He thinks of all this, and realizes that his life is simply put, unfair. He should get a refund, or should lodge a complaint with the higher powers.
He is one of the few people who can actually do so, because in the colourless limbo (he often thinks it may be the colour of Dumbledore’s beard), Death is not the only visitor.
Sometimes Lady Fate sits on another bench with knitting needles deep in some mess of glowing threads. He frequently hears her cackling at tangled lives and mentally prays for the poor souls. Often Lady Life sits with her twin to simply enjoy her company. A few other Entities, of Chaos, Knowledge, Time, Space, Love and Magic, all pass through as well. There are an infinite number of ‘powers’ with their own subordinates and servants, who together work to form the vast Multiverse. The train station is their meeting ground, their neutral territory to relax in. Harry often sits and observes them. Sometimes they include him in their conversations, and he is left either mentally scarred, very afraid or deeply amused. They come up with the most outrageous ideas, and as long as their meddling does not actually touch the mortal plain, they can do as they please. Also, who knew that running the Multiverse took actual paperwork? Especially when some absolute idiot decides to cross dimensions, or time-travel, or kill off half the universe ( the Entities had promptly chucked Harry headfirst into that mess, when an alien Norse God had decided to take over New York and Harry was unceremoniously dumped on top the flying headquarters of a spy organization ( Harry often wonders about the absurdity of his own life)).So sitting on this train bench, thinking about how tiring it all is, he knows that in a few minutes he will be pushed back into the world and there’s nothing he can do about it. He will not fight it, as there are a few things he has to accept, and his job is one of them. Even when he’s the most famous assassin of the century stuck being tortured for petty revenge. That one hurt a lot.What he can do, however, is petition for a vacation. Not somewhere with no violence, because he is a creature of war, and violence is in his blood, but a place where he can breathe without worrying about what is to come. Where he knows what will happen and what he will do, where is he not left floundering and trying to play catch up with the world. He has fully embraced the sneaky snakey Slytherin aspect of him, cunning and ready to do anything to get what he wants, even if it means watching the world burn.He is skilled, truly, a shadowed wraith with almost any weapon. His magic is a part of him, full of life and death in equal measures, both Light and Dark, and more than anything, he is powerful ( sometimes he forgets to use his magic but it acts subconsciously anyways ). He imagines what his original life would have been like if he was so experienced then, settled in his skin and with a quiet assurance that nothing there is more dangerous than him. He wouldn’t have been a pawn in a game played between two men who had no right to the power they wielded. He would have fought, not for the Light or for the Dark, but for his freedom, even if that meant creating a whole new side. Oh hoh, it would have been a whole new ball game.Unbeknownst to him, the Entities are watching him contemplate. They exchange glances with each other, and a decision seems to be made. They haven’t interfered overly with the lives of mortals in a long time, because too much interference always upsets the balance, and fixing that takes more effort than it is worth.
Harry, however, exists as a medium between the Entities and the world. No matter how much they interfere, there will be no long lasting consequences. And oh, they have been bored for so long sitting on the sidelines and simply watching. (If Harry had seen the expressions on the faces of the personifications of the Universe right then, he would have tried to run away, probably screaming his head off while they cackled like mad scientists.)Death smiles, a terribly bloodthirsty grin on a face that is otherwise calm and placid. He wears a black, extremely well fitted suit (and damn, Death is fit) of shadows, striding purposefully towards him. The Entity would wear other colours, but he rather likes the dramatic aesthetic, and Life would tease him for millennia if he wore- god forbid- some atrocious colour like purple. Chaos would probably love purple clothes though, especially with violently neon polka dots.”Why, hello there Master. I could sense you brooding away. Are you alright?”Harry sighs, a hand running through his no longer messy hair. Apparently being reborn again and again smoothens out his flaws, and he has a suspicion that Death is slowly giving him a Veela-like beauty. He’s the one who has to look at him the most, and Harry isn’t how how to feel that the Entities want him to look ” like someone we would fuck”. (The first time he heard one of Them say ‘fuck’, he was so utterly blindsided and off-balance that he fell off the bench).”Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things were different? If I wasn’t your “Master”, I mean. Why would Death need a Master anyways?” “Death, unlike others, cannot exist on the mortal plane for long. Every time Death intrudes on the Life of a place, the balance is disturbed. The rest of the Entities can be found in Life, but Death is the opposite of Life, the other side of the coin. If my power and influence spread, the death and destruction that would follow would be disastrous. That’s why I need a Master. You, Little Master, act as my anchor, making sure that the balance of Life and Death is maintained, and I do not unintentionally kill everything in sight. After you became my Master, I could take my first vacation, and might I say, it was absolutely glorious.”” I see. Do you think I could petition for a vacation?”Death chuckles, and like the absolute asshole he is, even manages to make it sound like the most appealing laugh in the world. The other Entities silently (and quite giddily) question him and he seems to regain some modicum of decorum, though a small smile still plays across his lips. He answers their raised eyebrows with a small, unnoticeable nod.” Harry here wants a vacation. Who are we to deny him?”The Master of Death hears the amusement and vindictive triumph in his voice, and is instantly on edge. He can easily deal with the monsters of the universe, whether with his magic and blade or with a smile and his words. Here though, he could be powerless for all it mattered. He is wary of what Death will do, and even more so when he seems the gleam in the eyes of the Entities. They surround him in a circle, and he knows he should be wary, but he knows that they won’t hurt him. Not because he trusts them, but because he is still of use to them. Lady Fate takes his arm, and asks him what he wants.Ten minutes later, it is decided that Harry Potter will get another chance at his original life, where he can live as his own person. This is a vacation, for both him and the Entities, who look like they can’t wait to meddle.Lady Fate swears that she will watch over him and make sure his life is never boring. She gifts him with Luck, both bad and good, and apologizes for the hardships he will go through.
” You see, even when we meddle, we need to balance it out. So now, your childhood may be quite worse, but I assure you that you will be lucky when you truly need it.”That sounds vaguely ominous. His childhood wasn’t great to begin with.Lord Chaos is giddy, and his enthusiasm is infectious, if a little disconcerting. His hair is fluctuating between a lurid orange and a bright, fluorescent green. He grins and sidles up next to Harry on the bench.
“This is going to be so much fun! I’ll be watching you, don’t worry. I, Lord Chaos, do hereby swear that you won’t have a single boring week in your life.”Strangely enough, this doesn’t make him worry any less. Chaos is one crazy motherfucker.Lady Love sighs mournfully.
” I really do adore the stories of mortals. So many tragedies and fairytales all about finding your ‘true love’. I wish I could do as much as my siblings, but giving you a true love seems cruel when you’ll outlive them and be forced to move on. Still, I, Lady Love do gift Hadrian James Potter natural charm and charisma, to aid him in all his endeavours, along with the ability to always look suitably stunning.”This is a relief, somewhat. He’s glad she didn’t make his life into some sort of love-triangle teenage angsty drama.The Entities take turns, and so Knowledge grants him the gift of languages and a sharp mind, Space gifts him a smoother form of travel than Apparation , and Time gifts him with the greatest gift of all, the preservation of the timeline. This way, no matter what he does, important events will still take place at the right time, so he knows exactly what will happen next.Time is now officially his favourite Entity. Such nice gifts. He wonders why people always hate him.
Life and Death simply hold his hands, tell him he can stay there as long as he needs, swing him around, and throw him into a portal. Rude. They could have at least given him some warning.Harry Potter stumbles through a portal between a place that does not exist and a time that has gone by, and everything goes black.