Harry opened his eyes to find himself in his old office. He was sitting in his swirly chair, looking out onto New York. Harry had moved there along with Ginny when they were in their sixties. Both of them had earned enough money to make it to the city, even enough to last them a few years to find something else to do with their time.
Ginny had been so different then, Dumbledore had died around that time, if the dark-haired man remembered correctly. She was oddly distant, but so clingy. She had made him refuse any invitations if they were by Draco or the pureblood's own wife. It was strange. She was starting a fight with him about everything, wanting him to eat what she had made, despite that the powerful wizard could tell the other had done something horrible to it. Some spell or potion was mixed in with it. He could sense it.
Some years later, she had got some virus. It was a bad one that took out her immune system. He had tried to be a good husband and stay by her side, even till death, but she... She refused, calling him many names, horrible names. Oddly, he found himself in love with her still, her words held no effect on him or his want of staying near her. Till the doctor told him how she got this horrible virus.
*Flashback- Start*
"The only way to get this virus... Is through sexual intercourse." The doctor held a sobering look.
Harry blinked in surprise, his old face contorting into confusion. He clearly wasn't sick, in fact, neither of them had sex in nearly two years. He had also made sure to get tested every once in a while, especially after she had gotten sick. He wasn't sick...
"G-Ginny?" He muttered, looking over to her with confused green eyes. Her face was twisted in rage and hatred.
"You... You were supposed to be dead." She hissed. "I was supposed to be the only one here. Not you! I hate you; you damn Potter! Does Death not want you!" She screamed, bearing her teeth at him like an animal.
The doctor gave a low sigh, looking at Harry with pity. The doctor had seen many cases like these, and he could tell with one look, that Mr. Potter, was a good husband. A husband that didn't deserve an unfaithful wife.
The old man pulled his hand away from hers. Her grip was so tight, her so desperate to cling to him still, scratched his hand.
He then left her side, he took care of her still as a loyal husband should, but... She died in a sad room, with only monitors there to keep her company.
*Flashback- End*
The dark-haired man hummed softly, lightly tracing where Ginny's claw marks were. They were deep enough to have caused scarring, not that was anything new to his old body. Yet, as he traced that area, he came to find something perplexing.
There was no scar.
Confused, the old wizard summoned a mirror, a spell Draco had learned or created if his memory served correctly. Standing in front of the mirror was not the two hundred forty-year-old, but a young scrawny eleven-year-old wearing crooked, broken glasses and clothes far too big stared back.
"I do hope you don't mind..." A breathy voice hummed behind the old wizard.
Breaking his concentration caused the mirror to vanish, but the new voice had also caused him to jolt, whirling around with his hands open. Over the years, the legendary Potter had learned how to use Wandless Magic, he was very good at it thanks to an equally talented teacher and an enemy who wanted to know more.
Sitting on the other side of his desk, right where his clients used to sit, was a strange man. He had long Viking braided hair the colour of snow, his face was elvish, and his eyes narrowed in a soft look a parent would give while consoling a child. He wore a soft dress, maybe a toga, that shifted in all shades of black and grey. It was a subtle shift that was elegant to watch.
"Who..." Harry stopped himself as he sat down in his worn chair, narrowing his eyes at the man. If he hadn't known any better, he'd say the man could've easily been a Malfoy, he looked like one in a way... But the aura that flowed from the man in constant waves was something...else. "You're... Death?" The man's polite smile grew, telling the wizard he was correct. "Am I... Finally dead?"
The man's smile softened and he nodded.
"You lived quite a life..." His smile fell as his expression shifted to one that looked as if he had eaten something sour. "A beautiful life of a lie." Potter frowned, looking down at his orderly desk. A sense of self-pity and shame formed in his chest. He should've seen the signs early on. "At least you died doing one thing right."
Confused, the young-looking wizard raised his head, tilting it in the end. What had he done right before dying?
Death gave the confused wizard a solemn smile. Almost all beings are usually confused and disorientated after dying. They usually refused to believe they had died, living a fantasy life, or their old life, over and over till they grew insane or broke down. Yet, Harry Potter was not one of the majorities, nor was his true heart. They truly were made for each other.
"Do you wish to go back?"
Harry gave a bewildered look, an amused smile crossing his face. "Go back?" A polite laugh floated from his throat as the smile grew on his lips. That smile didn't reach his eyes "I am dead, how can I go back without revisiting a memory?" He hummed, leaning forward to place his elbows on the desk and cradle his chin in his hands. It was a pose he always held when someone spouted ridiculousness in his office. Ginny hated that pose while Draco claimed it was "Very Potter-y of you"
Death's smile shifted to one of amusement as well. "Your other half had said something quite similar..." The wizard's smile faltered some in confusion. "You and they, along with some others long since gone, are special... Not because you're the Boy-Who-Lived, but because of another reason..." Death paused, leaning forward some as his voice lowered. "Do you wish to know what that is?"
"Yes"
A mildly surprised look appeared on the ancient being's face before he chuckled, leaning back. He hadn't expected such a quick response.
"To simply put... You and they, all of them... You all are Gods in your own right." Confusion appeared on the wizard's face. "Gods of what, the Fates wouldn't dare tell me. All I know is that you lot, had the world gone as it was supposed to, would've replaced or become Gods of some form." Death nodded, sighing almost wistfully.
Harry slowly leaned back, taking a deep breath before exhaling. That was a lot more than he had originally thought.
"Do you want to go back? To the beginning? To the letter?" The God's voice was calm and firm. He was genuinely curious as to what the old wizard would say.
He hummed softly, thinking deeply about it. What would be a good time? Well, everything started from the letter, but it started most likely even before he was born... Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't know when he should go back... However, he needs time to retrain his magic, maybe even to learn how to physically fight?
"Think... The very beginning would be best..." Death raised an intrigued eyebrow, tilting his head in a quizzing manner. "It would give me time to retrain my magic, and I could possibly learn how to fight... Like a Muggle, should things come to that."
Death laughed almost merrily, a soft grin on his face. He nodded to the thought.
"What a unique thought process..." He hummed, and soon there was a knock on the office's door.
Harry and Death looked to the door, the former humming in confusion. This wasn't his real office, yet he knew that thumping of the wood. It was that sound he had heard almost constantly every day for nearly two decades.
Looking towards his first guest, who held this content look, he figured it was someone he would want to answer to.
"Come in?"
At his words, a young woman entered the room, her toga or dress a beautiful emerald green that seemed to be decorated with elegant flowers long since extinct. Her hair was long with fiery red curls, only being held back by beautiful green vines with gorgeous flowers decorating it. Her face was soft and round with big, doe eyes the colour of the ocean. Her lips were full and a deep red as if she just ate a juicy strawberry.
Her relaxed eyes widened and sparkled with joy as her lips transformed into a sunny smile.
"Ah! Mon petit~" She purred in a honey-like voice, opening her arms up as if she was expecting Harry to run into them. Yet, the old wizard was confused... Did she really call him her little one? (Ah! My little one~)
Death chuckled, leaning back some, looking at her.
"Life, Life, he doesn't understand." He gave her a soft smile, as she gave him a pouty look.
The beautiful woman, now sulking, glided over to the unoccupied chair. She sat heavily, slouching in the seat.
Harry raised an eyebrow at them, a little amused. The blond-haired God chuckled, leaning over to her and kissing her head. The woman, Evette, closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. Her slouching body relaxed some before straightening to a more proper look. The two Gods then looked to the dead soul before them.
"I apologize. It's rather new for a whole swarm of Gods to be replaced, some even created." The old soul nodded some. "I am sure, you're wondering about us, yes?" Harry nodded again, leaning forward some. Death smiled at that. "Then I suppose I should tell you our old names."
The wizard furrowed his brows. They had names? Real names?
"She is Evette Weasley and I am Vendetta Malfoy. We are the earliest of our lines."
~1,773
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