Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

A/N: I know I have a few other stories that I'm working on, but this has been bothering me for a while. I have a lot of the plot for this planned out, and most of the next chapter completed. I hope you like it!

Special thanks to xxNoblesse12 for discussing this with me and giving me new ideas!

Warnings: This is a fem!Harry (Hyacinth), MoD!Harry story where Hyacinth is reincarnated as Tsunayoshi (Tsunako). I'm not really planning romance at the moment, but won't be averse to it if that's what you guys really want. Further warnings: Tsunako has a twin brother! Overdone, I know, but I thought I'd try my hand at it.

Well, then, enjoy!

Prologue

So this is it, then.

Hyacinth Potter, Girl-Who-Lived, Woman-Who-Conquered, Savior-of-the-World, Protector-of-Peace, and owner of heaps-of-more-hyphenated-titles, died… again.

It was similar to her first death, actually. She wasn't at King's Crossing, but she was in an almost blindingly white room that could only possibly be that white through divine intervention. In the middle of the extraordinarily white room stood a quaint black table made of some material she did not recognize. On top of it, two very intricate and expensive-looking white-gold cups of tea, their contents visibly steaming.

At least the tea set shows good taste. It wouldn't look out of place in Aunt Cissa's home, Hyacinth thought idly.

(Although frankly, she was a bit disappointed with the tea. She felt one's death deserved wine at the very least, perhaps some strong vodka, but she supposed tea was a close third).

As she moved to sit in one of the two chairs provided, Hyacinth noted that the table seemed to be made of marble. Yet unlike the elaborate tea set its beauty lay in its simplicity. Hyacinth chuckled fondly, Aunt Cissa would approve.

One might wonder why she seemed to be taking her death so well… the answer is that she had actually been expecting it.

For the last ten years, ever since the Great Battle of Hogwarts, a part of her had known that her death was close.

She hadn't told anyone, but she knew a few of her loved ones suspected. These last few days especially, it appeared they could sense something. Hyacinth didn't look different – still with a toned body, smooth skin, and a laugh in her eyes. Yet there was undeniably a different air about her, as though she was no longer with those around her, looking instead at a place far away. For the past two weeks, Hermione had been pouring over tomes with a feverish fervor she hadn't seen since the war, as well as doing all she could not to leave Hyacinth alone for even a second. Hyacinth's lover himself had been looking at her with unusual intensity, a despairing yet resigned look in his eyes that pained her every time she saw it.

He had asked for her hand in marriage only two days ago. She had said no. She couldn't do that to him, not when she knew she was to die soon. It was already selfish of her – so, so incredibly selfish. She should have let him go years ago, but couldn't bring herself to do it – to let him love her and keep him close.

Hyacinth Potter died in her sleep.

While Hyacinth had expected her death, she hadn't expected it to occur that way. She was sure the manner of her death would come as a surprised to the ones who knew her, as well. They had all figured – jokingly agreeing with each other over beers, yet with steely glints in their eyes that said they'd do anything to stop it – that with her infamous Potter luck she'd have died at the wand of one of the few pureblood fanatics left, or at the claws of a band of rampaging dragons, or at some newly risen dark lord's nefarious plan. A meteor randomly and unpredictably landing precisely on her while somehow not injuring anybody else due to her obligatory heroic deed that saved all of the surrounding people would have been considered more probable than her dying peacefully in her sleep.

It wasn't that she went looking for trouble, really (Really, Hermione. Don't look at me like that! You know I don't). Trouble just came to her. She had resigned herself to that fact a long time ago, and even managed to derive some amusement out of it now. It was either that, or go barking mad. She felt being amused by the constant chaos around her was the lesser evil.

And yet, despite her unfortunate tendency to attract trouble the way honey attracted bees, instead of the large, dramatic death everyone had been expecting, Hyacinth Potter died by simply going to sleep one day and never waking up.

It was a peaceful death, all things considered.

She wasn't angry, or despondent, or shocked. In general, she felt she had lived a short but rather fulfilling life.

She had a peaceful country, loyal friends who surrounded her, a man who loved her.

But she had to admit her life hadn't started off very well.

The whole parents murdered by a madman as an infant and being placed with emotionally abusive and neglectful relatives did put a damper on things, especially at the beginning.

Even once she turned 11 and finally got her Hogwarts letter, finally discovering her people and a place she could call home, she couldn't enjoy it for very long. For while she was no longer being treated like a freak she was put on a pedestal so high she couldn't even see the bottom and was worshipped in a way no human should ever be lest they let it all go to their head and decide to become the ruler of the world or something equally outrageous.

(Sometimes she marveled at how easy it would have been for her to become a Dark Lady, controlling the masses and perhaps even expanding her control to other countries that were equally besotted with her. No one would have suspected a thing.)

Hyacinth had been woefully unprepared for her fame at the beginning of her school years, and had lamented the loss of having a normal school experience (or at least as normal as was possible in a magical school).

And then, of course, there were the numerous attempts on her life all throughout her Hogwarts years.

In her first year she was confronted with a man possessed by the one who killed her parents and who was doing his very best to kill her (she was confronted with a Cerberus, as well, whom she later befriended and adopted, much to her friends' consternation), until she touched him and he fell apart in front of her horrified eleven year old eyes. In her second year it was a 60-foot basilisk and one of Voldemort's cursed horcruxes until she stabbed the first with a sword and the second with a basilisk fang that had been imbedded in her own flesh and whose poison would have killed her had a loyal phoenix not arrived just in time to cure her.

Her third year didn't actually include an attempt on her life (although she did almost have her soul sucked out by hundreds of dementors, which she thought bloody well counted), but there were numerous attempts on her godfather's life, which in her mind was so much worse. She had to fight off loveable werewolves, traitorous rats, and malinformed greasy professors all the while trying to alternatively escape or kill her godfather whom she thought had betrayed her parents up to when she found out he had been imprisoned for 13 years without a trial for a crime he didn't commit while the real murderer was one of her best friends' pet rat, at which point she spent the rest of her time trying to save his life and curb the clear insanity that his stay in Azkaban had caused.

Third year was also the year where she was approached by her dear Aunt Narcissa and promptly scolded the minute the platinum blonde beauty had laid eyes on her, "Hyacinth Lilium Potter! What on Earth are you wearing?! Is this what muggles claim is fashion these days? And why are you hunched over like that? Do you have back problems, perchance? Are you having an in depth conversation with the floor tiles? No, no, this will not do. It will not do at all." Narcissa had promptly grabbed hold of Hyacinth's hand and all but dragged the very baffled girl away while still somehow managing to look the perfect picture of elegance. "No Black woman shall be seen acting like anything less than a proper lady!"

And that was how she found out that she was, in fact, a member of the Black family through her paternal grandmother Dorea Potter née Black, who had married Charlus Potter. This made Narcissa Malfoy née Black her cousin (although she insisted she be referred to as Aunt Cissa), and, to Hyacinth's absolute horror at the time, it also meant she was related, however distantly, to Draco Malfoy.

It said something about her situation that he had automatically become her favorite cousin, despite the fact that she absolutely couldn't stand the prat.

And so it was in her third year that she recovered a family of sorts – not only gaining a mischievous if slightly mad godfather in Sirius and a furry supportive uncle in Remus, but a loving if demanding aunt in Narcissa and a surprisingly endearing albeit still insufferable cousin in Draco.

(She had learned, as well, that although Draco was a prat and by large a bigot, he was incredibly loyal to family and had always wanted a sibling. She was horrified to find that she actually liked spending time with the sarcastic blonde.)

As though trying to compensate for all of her newfound happiness through the discovery of her family in the previous year, fourth year decided to make her suffer as much as possible. This time the attempt on her life came from Lord Voldemort in person, an attempt made right after he used her blood to recreate his body in the cemetery that still fueled her nightmares. And all of this was only after she had been forced to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, a life-threatening tournament that usually only allowed seventh years to compete, gaining admiration from the Gryffindors but scorn and even hatred from all the other Houses and visiting schools. Even one of her best friends, Ron Weasley, had severed their friendship (already fragile because of her hesitantly friendly relationship with Malfoy) and accused her of purposefully putting her name in the Triwizard Cup. He had ignored her most of the year, and Hyacinth would have broken under the pressure of it all had she not had the support of Hermione and, still shockingly, Draco.

With Hermione helping her keep up with her studies, Draco politicking to control the other Houses' animosity towards her, and both of them helping her survive her tasks, she had somehow made it to the end. Draco had even introduced her to the man who would later become her lover, and ensured that Narcissa's dancing lessons stuck so that she'd look as "graceful and commanding as a Black lady should" at the Yule Ball.

Eventually, she won the Triwizard tournament, to no one's surprise, apparently. Hermione had put it quite nicely, "You're the chosen one, Haya. People expect absurd things from you and they're going to continue to do so until you stop doing absurd things. That means no more trolls or forbidden corridors or basilisks or dragons or dementors or dark lords or god knows what else, Haya. No more." Honestly, the way Hermione talked you'd think Hyacinth enjoyed being put in absurd situations.

And in fourth year Hyacinth had seen a friend's death for the first time.

Cedric's pale, unmoving face still haunted her to this day.

Fifth year was little better. She had been reviled for announcing that Voldemort was back, and the government sought a myriad of ways to shut her up. They sent a pink toad to supposedly teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but who was actually there to monitor Hyacinth, and who succeeded in not only teaching absolutely nothing, but also torturing the students with blood quills. With Hermione's encouragement, and a surprising number of students' enthusiasm, Hyacinth had started Potter's Resistance (What?! Dumbledore's Army?! Hyacinth, do try to stop being such a Gryffindork. If you're naming it after a person then that person obviously has to be you. They're not joining Dumbledore, are they? Merlin, how are we related again?) and taught not only fifth years, but fourth years, sixth years, and even seventh years what she knew of Defense Against the Dark Arts (A few seventh years later thanked her for helping them get good marks on their NEWTs, much to her bewilderment). Had it not been for Hermione's genius with the secret coins and Draco's spying on the toad, Hyacinth was sure the pink amphibian would have caught them at one of their secret meetings much earlier.

As though the headache caused by the overdose of pink was not enough, throughout the year she had suffered from excruciating visions of Voldermort's actions. The one redeeming factor was that it had saved Arthur Weasley's life, making a very uncomfortable Hyacinth receive promises of eternal gratitude and undying devotion from many of the Weasley children, as well as serving to bridge the gap between her and Ron, although they'd never be as close as they once were.

Hyacinth had even received a vision of Voldemort torturing her godfather, prompting her to immediate action. She led a small band of her friends, including, of course, Hermione and Draco ("Don't look at me like that Hyacinth, I've decided. You're family, and- and you make me a better person. So suck it up, because you're not getting rid of me"). They had done incredibly well for a band of fifth year Hogwarts students, efficiently fending off the Death Eaters on their own. Hyacinth had learned of the cursed prophecy that had damned her and her family, seen Dumbledore duel Voldemort in the middle of the Ministry, and watched in horrified stupor as her godfather was killed by their cackling cousin before her eyes.

Sixth and seventh year had been a flurry of violence and death. With Voldemort publicly back, the Wizarding public had turned to her for a solution. Her Aunt Cissa had helped her deal with the reporters and the onslaught of attention. Draco had been threatened and was forced to pretend to be a spy for Voldemort, all the while actually reporting back to Hyacinth. Dumbledore had been killed by Snape, evoking mass fear, and Hyacinth went on a horcrux hunt with Hermione and Draco. All throughout, there were constant attempts on her life.

By the end of it all, Hyacinth had become rather numb to threats to her wellbeing. Which was good, in a sense, as it served to get her used to leading a war.

At the end of the Great Battle of Hogwarts in her seventh year, all of Voldemort's horcruxes had been destroyed, including the one in her. All that was left was the man, or the creature he had become, himself. Hyacinth and Voldemort dueled, but Voldemort's wand refused to harm Hyacinth and quickly flew towards her the moment the Dark Lord's grip loosened. Disarmed and taking advantage of Hyacinth's confusion at the wand's peculiar behavior, Voldemort had fled along with most of his forces.

Hyacinth and her allies regrouped, counted their losses, and mourned their dead.

Historians would later state that it was this battle that changed the course of the war.

A previously despairing English public witnessed in awe the way that Hyacinth Potter and students – mere teenagers! – she had trained succeeded in forcing the Dark Lord to retreat.

And hope was restored.

The Potter's Resistance became public. Hyacinth had taught them to defend themselves, to survive – she had led them into battle and risked her life for theirs. They were certainly not about to abandon her now. So they pledged themselves to her, vowing to follow her to victory or death.

And that's how Hyacinth got her own, personal army.

Hearing of this concentrated movement to save Britain, members of all ages from all around the country travelled to join the rapidly expanding army. British citizens that had previously fled to live in other countries returned upon realizing that actual progress was being made – that people were acting to stop Voldemort, so different from the Ministry's ineffective actions from before. A large influx of Aurors arrived, asking to be part of Potter's Resistance; eager to finally be able to fight against Voldemort and actually have the chance to make a difference, something they had never felt at the Ministry.

Several other Ministry workers joined them soon after, equally relieved to find an independent actor who was not corrupt and was taking serious measures to stop the Dark Lord, quickly followed by hundreds of Healers, teachers, potion masters, and members of every profession known to man. Not long after, legions of magical creatures sought Hyacinth out and asked to be able to be part of the Resistance to help fight off Voldemort. Hyacinth accepted all of them – the Light families and the Grey families and the Dark families and creatures of every kind. All were welcomed equally.

For the first time, there was hope that they could win.

Differences were put aside. Slytherins and Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, purebloods and muggleborns were all equal within the Resistance. Centaurs and giants, humans and houselves, all rode proudly under the same banner- Hyacinth's banner.

Initially, Hyacinth had been overwhelmed by so many people seeking to join. Even Hermione had been struck speechless when the ever elusive and aloof centaurs willingly sought Hyacinth out and respectfully asked to fight under her banner. But with Draco at her left and Hermione at her right, she faced the issue like she had done all those before (proudly and without backing down), and conquered it.

As she had taught the first members of The Resistance previously, she taught the new members as well. Along with Hermione and a senior Auror named Kingsley Shacklebolt, she devised group attacks and defenses. Another Auror, Mad-Eye Moody, the real one this time, and Draco thought of security measures for their camp and more underhanded tactics. Kingsley and Mad-Eye also helped in increasing Hyacinth's own arsenal of attack and defense spells, as well as rigorous hand-to-hand combat, both of which the young woman had an astoundingly high aptitude for.

None of the recently joined adults questioned who the leader of The Resistance was. It was she, after all, who brought them all together and trained them. It was she who consistently stopped Voldemort, ever since she was a young child. And already over the last year she had done more than the Ministry or even Dumbledore had ever succeeded in doing.

Hyacinth took to leadership uncommonly well. She had a committee of advisors that helped her form decisions wisely. She had an army of devoted soldiers she was training. And she had the backing of foreign governments (most notably France's and Italy's) to win the war.

Soon, her name was said with the same amount of reverence as Voldemort's name was said with fear.

Voldemort's regroup of his forces did not last long. A year after the Great Battle the Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts, the Potter Resistance's base of operations, once more. And they were repelled once more.

For five years Voldemort's Death Eaters and Hyacinth's Resistance waged war.

And at the end of the fifth year, Potter's Resistance won.

Since Lady Fate would have it no other way, Voldemort and Hyacinth dueled at the center of the battle, the rest of the battle falling away at what all involved instinctively knew to be the defining moment of the war. The Death Eaters and Potter's Resistance alike stood stunned at the awe-inspiring duel that was taking place in their midst. Voldemort and Hyacinth alike seemed to be caught in an intricate and deadly dance, shooting off powerful spells thoughtlessly, ducking and weaving through each other's attacks like they had been doing so all their lives.

This time, Voldemort's wand did not owe its allegiance to Hyacinth. It was a duel of tactics, skill, and power. Never before had there been anything of its like.

Eventually, Hyacinth overpowered Voldemort and with one last spell, cut the dark lord's head off. In a brutal display, she grabbed the decapitated head and held it up, releasing a victorious roar that was met with equally loud cries from the members of the Potter's Resistance, who quickly struck down the rest of the fleeing Death Eaters.

Hyacinth's speech that day was one no one present would ever forget.

The world rejoiced at the Dark Lord's fall, and Hyacinth and her friends became war heroes. They were all awarded Orders of Merlin, Hyacinth receiving Order of Merlin First Class, in a ceremony that was broadcasted all over the globe.

In the confusion that followed, Hyacinth was somehow forced to act as Minister of Magic ("But I don't want to Hermione!" "You're the only one the people will accept right now, Haya. It's just for a little bit, just until things stabilize. We'll hold elections in a few months and then you'll be free to do whatever. Besides, you know Draco will help you with all the politicking and I'll be by your side the entire time." "All right, fine, but only a few months."). She somehow ended up staying Minister of Magic – the youngest one ever at 22 years old as well as the first woman minister – up to the day she died, much to her horror.

After a few months in office, she finally started dating Blaise Zabini, an Italian Slytherin that she had met through Draco and who had been part of her Inner Council during the war. She spent many marvelous days touring Italy with him, slowly learning the language and admiring the culture, all the while escaping her paperwork. After a few years, she was even introduced to his mother, the infamous Black Widow who had had eight very rich husbands, all of whom mysteriously died about a year after marriage, leaving her with all of their fortunes. She was truly a beautiful woman.

Blaise had been a little hesitant to introduce Hyacinth to his mother, afraid that she would take offense to his mother's more… unconventional ways. But to his shock - and absolute terror - the two women got along famously, tanning on Italian beaches, going for shopping sprees in Milan, and attending operas in Verona. They had favorite restaurants all over Italy that they regularly went to, and when Hyacinth couldn't leave her office in Britain for too long, Lady Isadora Zabini ("Please, cara, call me Isa"), would go to Britain and they would spend time there.

For a while, Blaise was afraid Hyacinth would leave him to elope with his mother. And this time he was sure his mother wouldn't be mysteriously widowed (If not because his mother loved the young woman so much then because it seemed like no one could kill Hyacinth).

Now that she thought of it, Hyacinth realized Isadora had spent even more time than usual with Hyacinth in the few weeks before her death. The Woman-who-Conquered supposed the beautiful lady had somehow realized that something was off, and that her days with Hyacinth were numbered.

A week before Hyacinth's death, Isadora had taken her out for a very expensive meal at one of their favorite restaurants in Italy. As usual, they had had a fantastic time, drinking wine and chatting away. Hyacinth noticed that there had been something off about the older woman, however.

"Cara," Isadora's voice had been soft and seductive, as usual. It was something that Hyacinth was attempting to copy. That voice could convince an angel to sin. The Zabini matriarch had looked at Hyacinth, beautiful black eyes glinting with something more than the reflection of the candles. Hyacinth had never seen the woman so serious, "Ti adoro, cara. These last few years you have been some of the best of my life. You have become my best friend, cara, despite our age difference and I feel it important that you know this." Hyacinth had felt burned by the older woman's gaze, "I adore you."

And then Isadora had quickly shifted back to her usual jovial persona, "Why, if only my son hadn't met you first, I'd have quickly made you my lover by now. Are you sure you do not want to leave him and elope with me?"

Hyacinth had laughed, slightly relieved to be back on familiar ground, "After seeing what happened to the last few people who married you, I think I'd rather not."

Usually, anyone mentioning the Lady Zabini's ex-husbands would have received a stern glare and perhaps some poison in their drink, but Hyacinth had always been able to get away with it. "Ah, but you must know you are different from those bumbling oafs," Isadora had smiled seductively. "Come, I could show you what the love of a woman is like."

"Oh, dearest, I fear that should I take you up on your offer I shall abandon all of my responsibilities and leave Britain in order to spend my days with you," Hyacinth joked back.

"And how, exactly, is that a bad thing? It would certainly be amusing to watch Wizarding Britain panic at the disappearance of their most beloved Minister of Magic."

They had both laughed then, Lady Zabini laughing so uncharacteristically loud that she started crying.

They say life flashes before your eyes right before you die. I think they got the order wrong. For me, life flashes before your eyes after death.

The appearance of a figure cloaked in black brought Hyacinth out of her reverie.

The figure made an odd sight, the black contrasting starkly with the surrounding white of the room (or place or whatever) that they were in. The black was so deep that it seemed to be leeching off all the white in the room, as though it were some sort of black hole that kept sucking in all of the light surrounding it.

The figure was tall, almost seven feet tall if Hyacinth were to estimate, and faceless. Despite the great height, Hyacinth did not get the impression that it was a man. Nor was it a woman. Rather, it seemed genderless, not androgynous so much as something gender could not be applied to.

"Welcome, Mistress." The figure intoned in a voice that was neither masculine nor feminine, with no discernable accent, "I have been awaiting your arrival for a long time."

Hyacinth felt a chill down her back. Which was strange, as she thought that death should have made physical sensations impossible. Apparently not. Hermione would be fascinated by this.

"Mistress?" Hyacinth questioned. The term made her rather uncomfortable. She was no one's mistress.

The black figure simply gestured to the tea table in a silent invitation to take a seat. Hyacinth did, not quite mustering the energy to be surprised that the tea was still steaming, despite all the time left in the open.

The black figure also took a seat. Hyacinth had half expected such a tall, large being to look awkward sitting in a delicate, normal-sized chair, but the figure looked like the epitome of grace. Hyacinth once again found herself mentally thanking Narcissa for instilling proper etiquette in her. Hyacinth would have felt incredibly uncomfortable sitting with anything less than perfect posture and elegance in front of such a graceful being.

The dark figure spoke again once they were seated, "You became Mistress of Death at seventeen years of age, when you successfully reunited the three Deathly Hallows."

Hyacinth's momentary pause was the only indication of her surprise. "And here I was so sure it was all a myth after nothing happened." Slowly, she took a sip from her tea. "I suppose this makes you Death, then?"

The dark figure – Death – nodded. "You are not afraid." It was a statement, not a question.

"I have faced worse things than death."

Although Hyacinth could not see Death's face, she sensed the being understood. She had seen war, after all. It was infinitely worse.

"You were supposed to have ascended as a goddess among mortals upon reuniting all three, but I sensed that you wished to stay in your world for a while longer. I was only able to give you ten years, before your position forced you to return to your realm." Death explained. "Order also proclaimed that your world needed you."

Well, wasn't that flattering. Despite many assurances to the contrary by her friends, Hyacinth had always thought the world would have carried on just as well if she hadn't been there. Someone else would have simply taken her place and defeated Voldemort in her stead. She had especially not thought that the world would need her even after Voldemort was dead, but apparently she was necessary for the rebuilding of magical Europe.

"That was kind of you, Death." She uttered earnestly. The being, after all, hadn't needed to take into account her wishes or the needs of her world. "Thank you."

Death paused a little, and had the being been mortal Hyacinth would have said it was surprised.

"It is only natural." Death explained, "You are my mistress, after all."

A sense of foreboding crept up on Hyacinth, "And exactly what does being Death's Mistress entail?" She had never wanted any of this. Had never wanted absolute power, fame, immortality. One of the reasons she had been so okay with her death was that she had thought she would be able to see her parents again.

"There are a series of duties that pertain to the Mistress of Death. Of them, travelling to different worlds to restore balance is perhaps the most important one. You will be reborn through your incarnations in those worlds, but be able to keep all of your previous memories."

"I see." It appeared that Dumbledore was right about one thing, at least. Death truly was the next great adventure. Or series of adventures, apparently.

"Soon, you will revert into your seven-year-old self from a parallel world. There are disturbances there that need to be taken care of. Fate has also requested your presence."

Well, she couldn't say that was entirely unexpected. Fate had always seemed to see Hyacinth as her personal toy. When she was younger she had been resentful, but now Hyacinth learned to simply live (or, she supposed, die) with it.

There was one thing, however, that Hyacinth had most definitely not been expecting.

"Oh, dear. Seven years old, you say?" At Death's stoic nod, she continued, "Well, that will be awkward for a 27 year old."

And really, why seven? She felt that was certainly a strange age to awake to in a parallel world. Would it not have made more sense if she had simply been reincarnated?

"The Mistress of Death is as ageless as Death itself." Death explained, and Hyacinth shivered at what basically amounted to a confirmation of her apparent immortality. "But when you are reincarnated you will be both physically and mentally seven. Albeit a very mature seven-year-old, as your memories will still be intact."

"Well then," Hyacinth delicately sipped some of her tea, "It seems I am off to the next great adventure."

And so Hyacinth Potter woke up.

A/N: This was all background information to explain who Hyacinth is. We'll get to the KHR world next chapter. Be sure to leave a review on your way out!