Prologue

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Harry was once again suffering from the famous Potter's luck. Or perhaps it was fate that had thrown one final gut punch after the war was over, just to remind him life wasn't fair. Whichever one of those it was, Harry Potter, the Saviour of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived was face to face with the Killing Curse once again, although this time it had not come from the wand of an enemy, but from that of someone, he had considered a brother. Ronald Weasley stood before him with a wicked smirk, while next to him were people Harry had trusted and cared for, that now relished in his befuddled and heartbroken expression. 

  It had only been a mere few weeks after Voldemort's death that he had been dubbed the new Evil Dark Lord, and had become yet again the Undesirable No. 1 in the eyes of the wizarding world. The reason for this was because word had gotten out of his huge reserves of magick that had been unlocked after his seventeenth birthday and a rumor had spread that he had been and still was a Horcrux. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had spread those lies, as there weren't many people outside of the Order of Crispy Chickky Nuggies that knew of the soul fragment that had been part of him since that dreadful Halloween night.

  "Traitors", he spat out inraged, holding his bleeding arm close to him. His wand had long since been taken from him and snapped in half, and he was already suffering from previous injuries and lack of nutrition from the week he had been on the run. A bitter chuckle left his cracked, bloody lips as he realized the cruel irony of his situation, but he was not even given a minute more to breathe before Ron pointed his wand at his neck.

 "Shut your mouth you git! I have had enough of you, always getting praised as a saint, The-Boy-Who-Lived that could do no wrong," the reached sneered," while we were just your shadows! Do you even know how it feels, to have another person dictate your worth?! Of course, you don't!! You've always been loved by everyone with your money and fame!!" Ron sounded hysterical, and his words dripped in venom while Hermione nodded behind him in agreement, throwing her own scathing opinion: "Yeah, I knew you were stupid and had it not been for Dumbledore we would have gotten rid of you much earlier. You, with your wealth and fame, never giving a damn about what you did and getting other people hurt because of your idiocy."

  Harry would have winced if it wasn't for the sharp stick pointed at his throat. This was a nightmare. It had to be! 

His eyes darted from one face to another, receiving only disgusted and angry looks. Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and some other people he didn't recognize all stared at him like he was a piece of gum on their shoe. George wasn't there, Harry remarked mentally, neither was McGonagall, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fleur, Hagrid, or Kingsley Shacklebolt. Most of them probably were busy with trying to rebuild the Ministry or mourning those who had perished. 

   "Avada Kedavra!" Ron shouted, probably infuriated that he wasn't getting any reaction from the man, even as he was moments away from his death. 

Harry almost cracked a smile. Had the redhead always been so bitter and smug, or had he just been blinded rage that moment? Perhaps he would never find out, but he suspected that it had always been that way, and he was just too ignorant to notice. There was a thin line between innocence and ignorance, and he had often danced too close to the edge, willfully blind to the faults of his friends and those he considered to be "Light". Just like Dumbledore wanted him to be, the perfect little savior, the perfect sacrificial lamb.

  The wizard was enraged, heartbroken, and empty all at the same time, and as the green flash hit him straight in the head his last thought was that he would give anything for a second chance, so that Dumbledore and his treacherous dogs may never get their happy ending.

   He awoke in a light yellow room with no walls. He was seated on a yellow couch and was holding an elegant white teacup in his newly healed hand, while on the opposite side of the small coffee table, seated on an identical couch, was Death. The man had no idea how he knew it was Death, as the being was a mere whisp in a humanoid form, with no distinguishable traits and no face.

   "Hello? Why is it that I am here? Is this how the afterlife usually looks?", he questioned the entity, desperately grasping his rational side in an attempt to not lose his mind and have a freakout.

   Death barked out a low laugh that filled the whole room, echoing inside the walls of his mind, causing a cold shiver to go down his spine. "It has been long since I have been greeted so casually.", it remarked humorously, "Yes, I am Death, and you have died thus I have brought you here, although I am afraid I cannot grant you entrance to the world beyond life, as you have not yet finished your purpose."

 Harry let out a long tired sigh, but continued to listen in silence, much to the appreciation of the entity.

"In your short life, you have collected all of my artifacts, therefore earning the title of my master, the Master of Death. This means you cannot die unless you yourself with this, and since young Ronald pushed this barrier, I have been summoned to return your soul to its rightful place. While that would be normal protocol, I am aware this would most certainly go against your wishes of taking revenge on your previous headmaster and his allies efficiently." Death, leaned forwards as if examining the male's expression but was met with only a temporary flicker of hope before his green eyes once again became dull and empty. They sighed trembling in anger at the current state of his new master, but proceeded on with his explanation, hoping the boy would agree to his plan. "I am unable to take you back into the past at a moment where you would be able to enact revenge against your enemies, as that is not my line of work, but I have devised a plan."Harry began listening more closely" I have the power to send you to a universe that is parallel to our own, where a version of yourself currently exists in the form of an infant. As we speak your other version is four years of age and awaiting for the Dursleys to leave for Dudley's birthday. They have forgotten her in the cupboard under the stairs so I will send you there once they have left and from there you may decide the path you wish to take, although I must warn you that every change you make will have its consequences, so I advise you tread carefully."

  Harry did not to be told twice about his chance, a cruel glint shining behind his green eyes. A plan already had begun to form itself in his head, as his face split into a wide grin and he eyed Death carefully.

"Is there anything else I should know about?"

 "You may change your appearance if you wish, and will be able to use your Gringotts vaults freely. If I may, it would be beneficial for you to become older by approximately 8 years, to make your endeavors easier, as few would take a seventeen-year-old with a baby seriously. I recommend taking custody of your younger counterpart while the world is still unaware of your identity and sorting other things out with the goblins. They may be greedy creatures, but if you give them the respect necessary they will treat you well, and they hold children above else, so it should be fairly easy to take miss Potter from her relatives if you can prove they are not taking care of her as they should. They may even honor your title as Master of Death should you wish to reveal who you are, and that may help you with future negotiations." came the entity's reply.

"What about my magic, will it not be recognized?"

"No, the moment you became the Master of Death your magic mixed with my own, thus your younger self shall have different magic. Is there anything else you desire Master?"

The man paused with a thoughtful look before his eyes widened in realization and he snapped his neck to quickly look up at his tea partner "What about you? What will happen to you if I go to another universe?"

 "You need not fret, Master, for I am the same in all universes. I shall no leave you and shall aid you however you wish. You must only call my name, would you wish for another to be able to see me." Harry nodded along with the plan before giving his approval for Death to do as he wished and he fell into a deep abyss.

  He awoke in the hall of No.4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. A place he never wished to return to.

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