Death's Proposition

And just what had the Headmaster been planning? Either he was senile, incompetent, or a sociopathic master manipulator who enjoyed playing with other's lives, never really understanding or caring about the pain and heartache he created. Or how much he risked in not sharing what he knew. And why hadn't he taught Harry any valuable fighting skills? That lapse alone had added years to his fighting with Voldewhore.

Naturally, a Death Eater, or a sympathizer, had overheard Ron's wobbler at the Leaky Cauldron.

Lord Voldewhore immediately retrieved and re-hid his remaining horcruxes – Hufflepuff's Cup and Ravenclaw's Diadem – behind fidelius charms. In typical Voldewhore fashion, he left taunting messages and traps in place of the former horcruxes. It had been spirit-crushing to break into the Lestrange Vault and discover that it was all for nothing.

Going after the Diadem at Hogwarts was where Hermione had been cursed. The Withering Curse was unstoppable, just as it had been when it killed the Headmaster. Harry's quick reaction in cutting off her arm an instant later had saved her life, but only temporarily. It took her five long pain-filled years to die.

Riddle moving those last two Horcruxes cast the Wizarding World into the abyss with Magical and Muggle world suffering alike. It had taken Harry seven more years to destroy the horcruxes, with friends and allies dying at his side, while he killed Voldewhores's followers whenever and wherever he found them.

Voldewhore didn't care whom else died — he was immortal! But with tremendous determination and tenacity, Harry had fought on, watching his friends and allies die one-by-one. He reluctantly became the Master of Death and used Death's help to locate and destroy the final horcrux — himself. And then killed Tom with Gryffindor's Sword while the git was celebrating his "victory" over Harry.

Death had enjoyed the feast provided by the war. Not even Joseph Stalin's and Mao Zedong's Communist purges had yielded such a bonus of Wizardly deaths. It gladly helped Harry Potter to his victory, and gained the long-awaited soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Why would it not enjoy this? Both the boy and his nemesis had provided it with a plethora of souls and activity.

But it had lost its freedom to Harry Potter. And was looking at being terminally bored for thousands of millennia to come. The second was annoying, but the first was intolerable. No one was allowed to escape DEATH!

Now all Death had to do was trick Harry into giving up his Mastery. Harry Potter was a master of many arts, but no one is more cunning than Death.

 One day, Death presented itself to its Master. Harry was sitting on a park bench in a bomb-blasted radiation-ruined town destroyed by an errant nuclear shelling, lost in his thoughts of self-loathing at losing everyone and everything he held dear. He berated himself for not doing more sooner, for not preventing the disaster that destroyed Wizardkind.

Living held no appeal, and being the Master of Death meant he couldn't die. He couldn't even get rid of the items by throwing them through the Veil of Death in the Ministry — Voldewhore had destroyed it fearing Harry might use it to kill him. And the damn things could withstand a nuclear blast!

Glancing around at the destruction, Death commiserated with him, "It is sad, is it not? You could have avoided all this ruin if only you had known how it was going to be and had the knowledge and power you have now mastered. All your friends would still be alive. You could have been a Lord among them. You could have been King of the World!" Death proclaimed.

Harry laughed, "If it were possible to go back in time, I would gladly do it even if it saved only one person who had died. I don't want to be Lord over all the people, I just want them living and going on with their lives. And I want my friends back."

"Ah, such nobility, you make me proud, young Master. You may not consider it, but you are my Lord and I dislike my Lord putting himself in a right strop, locking himself in his self-constructed prison of desolation, and driving himself potty," Death said in a mock humility.

Harry chuckled weakly at its antics. "You amuse me, using flamboyant words and slang in the same sentence."

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I change with the times, get more innovative in my ways, and this is one such thing." Death replied. "But, my Lord, I have a proposal for averting this destruction . . . ."

"I am listening," Harry said, one eyebrow raised curiously.

"I can send your soul, together with your core and knowledge but not your body, to a time in the past where you can imprint yourself on a younger version of yourself. That would give your younger version the right amount of knowledge and power. You can achieve your destiny without much effort, and prevent much destruction," Death explained. And never get the Elder Wand nor Resurrection Ring, leaving Death in charge of itself, masterless forever.

Harry leaned back, thinking, considering. That was one way around the time-travel restrictions. He'd never have to worry about meeting himself because he was himself. And Eloise Mintumble's problem of changing the past and dying a horrible death when she returned to the present wouldn't matter, as he would never return.

That was the flaw in all the time travel theories; they assumed one would return. Or one had to return. The so-called paradox of eliminating one's father, then being not born, and then being unable to eliminate one's father didn't exist in this case. All he had when he arrived in the past would be a Seer's knowledge of a possible and avoidable future.

"What's in it for you?" Harry asked, knowing well that Death doesn't like to make deals.

"My Master, you are very clever for your age, but that can be expected from what you have survived. I am magical. I like to have a regular and timely supply of those magical souls where I can guide them into their next great adventure, but all this destruction has left me nearly jobless. I am no demon, Master.

I am just an inevitability, like life itself, the magical embodiment of a course of action that has to take place after a certain amount of time. I enrich the living, prompting them to see how valuable a life they have. I am an entity like all life, but beyond them, for I have a power over them too. One day, I will take them all with me too, but that day is nowhere near," Death said.

"I'll do it." Harry readily replied.

"You have not heard everything, Master. When what you have accepted is done, you will no longer be my Master, but like any other mortal." Death said gravely.

"You don't understand me, do you? I don't care for immortality or riches. I care only for what I can bring back. I am accepting you deal, Death," Harry said quietly.

 "Very well, Master." Death silently chuckled. "I will send you back in time, to a time where your current self is most compatible with your younger self. But be warned, my Master, You will imprint upon the first body you meet when you arrive, and the fusion of your current self with the younger self will make a radical change in your personality. You will have to be circumspect in your actions or others around your younger self will notice and wonder why you changed."

"Are you done yet? I am willing to take anything you throw to undo the damage. I have undergone a lot of pain and inner turmoil ever since I was a toddler, and I can surely beat whatever problems this might cause. Even if it is death, I gladly accept because I cannot exist with the guilt of 'if only I had accepted it.' DO IT NOW, DEATH!" Harry yelled angrily at his servant.

"As you wish, my Lord." Death smiled at Harry Potter, who grimly smiled back in return. Death began a long and steady incantation that burned the body of his Master, liberating his soul. With a powerful push, Death forced his Master's soul back in the stream of time.

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