Chapter 1

Green was all he saw.

Green eyes opened to somewhere he didn't recognize. It looked like a train station, as there were large stone columns spread throughout the area. However, everything was white in every direction.

It was like every other color had been sapped from the world.

Four year old Harry Potter looked around, lost. "Where…Where am I?" He twisted around, panic setting in. "Mum! Dad!" he yelled. "Where are you!?"

"They're not here."

He whirled around and spotted someone. This new man looked startlingly like Harry's father. He was about the same size as James Potter, standing near two meters tall. He had the same shaggy black hair that Harry shared with his father. There was only one noticeable difference.

The eyes. The man's eyes were just like his mother's.

Young Harry shied away from this new presence. He scampered behind the nearest pillar to hide. The other man didn't chase after him, so he peeked back around the corner. Harry then asked, "Who...Who are you?"

The man smiled kindly. His face looked youthful but seemed to hold ages of experience. He kneeled so he was at Harry's eye level. "I'm someone who knows you," he answered. "Better than anyone."

"But… But I don't know you."

Again, he smiled. He reached up and brushed aside his hair, revealing a faded lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. "It's a little complicated, but I promise you'll know who I am one day. For now, I'm your friend."

Harry didn't know why, but he felt…something that connected the two of them. He came out from behind the pillar, nervously wringing his hands over his stomach. That same something was telling him he could trust this person, so he asked, "Where am I? What happened to Mum and Dad? Why am I alone?" He sniffled once.

The last thing his dad had told him was to stay strong, so he would. Harry wouldn't cry. No matter what, he'd stay strong.

The man's smile went sad – like when James had talked about Uncle Lupin. He asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"The bad man," Harry responded immediately. That serpentine face was not one he would ever forget. "He was gonna' hurt Mum and Jasmine. I didn't let him."

"No. You didn't." The man stood. "You were brave to do that."

"I…" Harry tried to remember what had happened next, but it was hazy. It was like he was trying to grab something that he knew was there but couldn't see in the fog. "I think it was green?" He looked up at the man, sad he couldn't say more.

"It was." The man nodded sadly. "You saved your mum and your sister from that bad man, but…" he trailed off, uncertain how to continue. "But the bad man still hurt them."

"But you said I saved them!" Harry protested.

"You did. But…" He exhaled. The man ran his hand down his face, a resigned look present. "There's no easy way to say this, Harry – god, that feels weird to say out loud now matter how many times I do."

Harry tilted his head curiously. This man wasn't making sense to him.

"You're dead, Harry," he finally told him. "Voldemort – or Riddle, rather – killed you when you protected Mum."

Harry froze. He barely registered the words for a few seconds. That…can't… he thought. He looked around again, once more taking in the setting. "But…" His voice cracked. "Am I really…"

"Yes. I'm sorry." The man walked to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

For some reason, that same something from earlier seemed to calm Harry down. He wanted to shout, but that something wouldn't let him. He wanted to cry, but his Dad's last words wouldn't let him. He had so many emotions raging through him simultaneously that nothing could take over. In some ways, because of this, he was almost numb to this discovery.

The man squeezed his shoulder, making him look up. The man said, "This is the entrance to the afterlife."

That made him look around at everything once more. "A train station?" he asked in disbelief. He hadn't thought about the afterlife before, but he thought the entrance would be something…more.

"Not necessarily." The man let go and walked to a bench that Harry could swear wasn't there a second ago. He sat down and informed him, "I call this place 'The Waiting Room'. It looks different depending on the person. At times, it's Kings Cross Station – like now. That's what it usually is for us, though I've seen the Gryffindor Common Room used every once in a while. He looked around with a sad look in his eyes. "I think this is just our default setting."

"Huh?" None of that made any sense to him.

The man chuckled once, a grin tugging at his lips. "I forget how young you are. I haven't met one as young as you before." He waved his hand and a pair of drinking glasses appeared. He set one next to him on the bench and pulled an amber bottle seemingly from the air. He filled his own and downed it with a single gulp. "The last one deserves a double," he murmured, wiping his lips.

Young Harry walked over to the bench, looking at the man oddly. "You're weird," he at last said.

The man let out a few chortles. "You're not the first to say that, though you are the last." He stood up. He downed his glass again and tossed the now-empty bottle onto the train tracks. Though there was no sound of glass breaking.

"Litterbug!" Harry pointed and yelled. His mother had all but beaten it into his head how littering was bad, so there was no way he'd let someone get away with it.

The man gave him a brief glance before bursting into hysterical laughter. The laugh was so loud that it was like he hadn't laughed in years. Harry just stared at the man, uncertain how to react.

The man soon calmed down. He now stood with more mirth than Harry could understand being present. "Sorry," he said between giggles. "I haven't been taken to task in a long time, and the fact I'm the one who did it is just too funny."

Harry tilted his head, uncomprehending. "You are weird," he repeated.

"You'll understand why when you're older." The man waved his hand in front of him and everything around them turned to black.

Harry gasped, taking a step back. He whirled around, wondering what had just happened. No matter where he looked, there was only unfathomable emptiness. It was as if nothing but him and the other man existed in the abyss.

"Harry." All humor was now gone from the man's face. The seriousness was intimidating to the young boy. "I need you to listen closely. I want you to promise me that you'll remember everything I'm about to tell you. I can even guarantee you will if you make that promise."

Harry gulped. He didn't know what had changed – for either the setting or the man – but that something again was nearly screaming at him to listen and do as he's told. Harry nodded.

"You need to say it."

He gulped again. Harry stammered, "I-I promise." A strange sensation enveloped him, making the hairs on his arms stand up straight. It was like something new had wrapped itself across his insides and refused to let go, though it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

The man nodded. "Good." He held out his hand and a strange green energy mass appeared over his palm. "This is the soul shard Voldemort lost when he hit you with his curse. Normally, it would find the nearest magical vessel to latch onto. In many worlds, that winds up being your sister. In some others, your mother. That won't happen this time. This time, it's staying with you."

Harry didn't understand everything being said, but the thought of that green…thing inside his family made his skin crawl. However, that same something was telling him to not say anything yet, so he listened to it and then the man again.

The man continued, "Death hasn't been pleased with me as her Master as of late. She did something that's nearly severed my connection with her. I can feel that, after I help you, she'll be able to overtake me." He grinned. "But I don't plan on letting her. You see, I've come up with an idea that helps all of us – you the most."

He held out his other hand now. This one had two energies like the one in his other hand, but these were both different colors. One was startlingly gold; the other bright red. The man then continued, "The gold one is a fragment of my living soul, and the red one here is your own soul. You see, I've learned quite a lot about souls since I became Death's Master.

"Now," he said, "I can even manipulate them a little. I can even do this." Harry watched, amazed, as the red and gold energies seemed to merge together. The finished mass retained the red's primary color, though it was now larger and much brighter and had a few streaks of gold mixed in.

The man's smile was so large it practically split his face. "Just as I thought!" he exclaimed. "What I'm doing," he explained to Harry, "is merging my own living soul, with all its knowledge and experiences, with yours. That means you'll gain everything I knew while I was alive. Unfortunately, everything afterward is impossible, and the reasons for that are extremely complicated so I won't go into them.

"Something I've noticed though," he said and held the green energy next to the red one, "is that the Voldemort in your world is obscenely overpowered. Even with my old soul, yours is barely putting out more energy than Tom's here, and this is just a tiny fragment. I can only imagine how strong he is at full strength. He could probably be the only one to legitimately escape death.

"Your soul will likely develop as far as mine at least, and even that wouldn't be enough to stop him. I suppose Fate decided it was finally his turn to win one, but I've never been one to let that old hag get her way. So I'm going to do what I do best," he said with a mischievous grin. "Meddle."

The man at last closed his eyes, concentrating hard. Both energies lifted from his hands and hovered toward one another. A few indiscernible words came from the man, and the energies began to circle one another like two enemies sizing each other up. With another unknown word, the energies rushed at one another, meeting in the center.

A bright flash erupted at the collision point so bright that Harry had to look away or risk being blinded. A few minutes passed before Harry felt it was safe to look again. When he did, he gasped in awe at the sight.

The two masses had combined into a shape that resembled a gemstone. It still flowed like water in the air, but now it seemed to have a sort-of frame that kept it in the same general shape. It had hundreds of individual faces that rolled and coiled upon themselves. Red was still the primary color and gold streaks were still there, but there was now a mixture of green and silver that seemed to slither across the surface.

The man exhaled, seemingly exhausted. "It's done." He called the energy back to his hand. It heeded his call, though it seemed almost reluctant to do so. His grin reappeared. "Now you should be able to put up a fight that'll knock their socks off. I wish I could be there to see it."

The man walked over to him and kneeled once more. "Now it won't leech off you. Now, it's going to be a part of you. I expect there to be some…effects, but I doubt you'll change that much." He explained, "You won't get all of the benefits at once, unfortunately, as letting him and me loose when you're this young would probably break your mind. Instead, I built in a trickle system.

"Over time, you'll gain everything from both of us. At what rate, I can't say, as that will all depend on you. The spell I've cast will only give you the information that your mind can handle at the time. It's entirely possible you'll never have everything. It's also possible that you could unlock it all before you even graduate Hogwarts. I honestly don't know. But," his eyes – so much like Harry's own – were soft like a siblings, "I have total faith you can handle it."

Harry didn't understand anything that he'd seen or heard. As best he could tell, the man had done something to what he guessed was his soul, which weirded him out something fierce. If the man could do that, he had to be really strong.

Harry's only thought: I need to be strong like him. That's how I can keep my promise to Dad.

"Now this may sting a bit, but you'll thank me for it later. Or you may curse me with all your might when you understand just what happened here one day." The man shrugged. He then looked at the energy in his hand. His voice went solemn. "So much will depend on you…Harry. I'm sorry for forcing this on you."

He gave Harry a small, morose smile. Harry wanted to assure the man that he'd be fine, but he couldn't find his voice for some reason.

"Goodbye, Harry. I can't do anything more than this."

The man slammed his hand into Harry's small chest, right over his heart. The energy entered him, feeling both warm and freezing at the same time. A feeling of sheer elation surged through his tiny body that seemed to overtake his mind.

The last thing Harry remembered was the man's eyes. His lost thought was, They really do look like mine.

Harry woke without any fervor.

He leaned forward, his covers whispering into a lump over his lap. He placed his hand over his eye, breathing deep to calm down.

"Again," he said to no one. "I thought I was done with this dream now."

His bedroom was larger than average though not obscenely so. It had all the necessities along with a few magical pictures of his friends and family hanging on the blue walls. Hedwig was sleeping soundly, perched on her private stand across the room. Her feathers ruffled softly with the beat of her rhythmic breathing.

Harry climbed out of his bed, tossing his sheets away in a clump in the corner of his mattress. He walked to his room's attached bathroom. With a gesture, he summoned a towel from his closet. He let it levitate in place just outside as he entered the frosted glass shower.

As the lukewarm water hit him, he let his mind wander, as he was wont to do at times – especially when that particular dream/memory came to him.

Nearly thirteen years had passed since Voldemort's attack on his family. That night forever remained burned into his mind harsher even than his forehead scar. None of the Potters had believed their secret had failed them. When they realized it had, it was too late. Voldemort had already sealed every escape route, and the Fidelius had prevented any apparation or portkeys from working.

James Potter had hidden his wife and children away. He had only told Lily that he loved her; he most likely knew those were his last words to her. He'd then kneeled, placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, and told him that he had to stay strong to protect his mother and sister. Harry's last words to his father were a promise to do whatever it took to protect their family.

The rest of the night had progressed as could be expected. James had barely engaged Voldemort before being disarmed and killed. Voldemort had then moved to where Lily, Harry, and his sister were hidden. Without a word, he'd cast the Killing Curse at Lily, who'd put herself between her children and the Dark Lord. Harry had, his promise forefront in his mind, leapt forward and took the spell for his mother.

After that, he'd awoke in what he now knew to be a pure-white King's Cross Station. Now he understood exactly what he'd experienced. He'd also figured out that he had encountered an alternate version of himself who'd also become the Master of Death. A true Master of Death. Someone who'd reached a pinnacle of magic far beyond even Voldemort's wildest dreams.

His other self had then done something beyond imagining. He'd combined Harry's own soul with two others: the other Harry's soul while he had lived his own life and the fragment of Voldemort's that had separated when his curse had backfired. Because of this, Harry was able to draw upon the knowledge, experiences, and memories of both Voldemort and his other self. This had propelled him forward at a pace no one had ever seen before.

He hadn't had total access when he awoke that fateful night, but, slowly, he'd gained what the other two souls could give him. He still couldn't be absolutely certain he had everything, and he doubted he ever would be, as he had no way to dive into his own soul to check. However, even if he didn't have everything, he was plenty capable as a wizard to face down his enemies.

"Ha-rry!" his younger sister, Jasmine Potter, yelled into his room, stealing him from his thoughts. "You alive in there!?"

"I think so!" he hollered back.

"You've used all the hot water again! Just how long have you been in there!?"

Belatedly, he looked at himself. He must have been showering for some time now, as his entire hands had pruned enough to make him look older than even Albus Dumbledore. He next realized that the water pounding his face was cold as ice, reconfirming his earlier thought.

"Sorry, Jas!" he called. "I'll replace it for you!"

"You'd better!" Jasmine then added, "Mom'll be up in a few, so make it quick! 'Cause I'll tell her it was you!"

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled as he cut off the water. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel from where it hung in the air.

He quickly dried his hair, not bothering to tame it. Harry then wrapped the towel around his waist and apparated to where the hot water heater was. As they resided in a muggle penthouse, they had to handle some muggle issues at times, though magic certainly made fixing them so much easier. He placed his palm on the metal cylindrical container and, with a thought, replenished the hot water. He then apparated back to his room.

A ghostly, ephemeral-looking lioness was waiting for him there. Recognizing his sister's Patronus, he accepted the message of "Thanks!" and sent it on its way.

He shook his head, a grin tugging at his cheeks. "Jas, Jas, Jas. I told you those were supposed to only carry important messages. You can't treat them like an instant-owl."

His sister had always been that way though. Like him, Jasmine displayed a rare aptitude in spellcrafting for her age. He'd taught her almost the entire advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum already, and she was barely fourteen. She seemed to have an almost inexhaustible energy as well, though that served her both well and not at times.

She was so hyperactive at almost all times to the point she could rarely focus on something unless it interested her. As it stood, the only things that did were spellweaving and potions. Anything else and you couldn't get her to sit still for more than a minute. That was why she was at or near the top of her class in Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and Potions but barely passing all her other classes, much to Lily and Hermione's consternation.

Their mother had approached Severus Snape about a possible remedy for her daughter's inattentiveness a year or so ago. He had laughed and said he saw no need, as he too cared little for the other subjects. Lily had insisted though, and he'd relented. Snape concocted a special calming draught for her, but Jasmine had a severe reaction to it, practically draining her of the energy that made her Jasmine to Harry.

Harry had then, in a calculated rage, destroyed the entire batch of medicine, because a medicine that changed his sister was no medicine at all in his mind. Snape had no issue with it, though Lily had looked at Harry sternly for a while when he explained why he'd done it. Ever since though, Lily never looked for an outside remedy for her daughter's inattentiveness, so Harry considered it a win for him.

His sister was Harry's entire world. Because of his other self's experience with loneliness, Harry knew what it felt like to be completely alone and refused to ever live with that. So Harry had sworn long ago to always be there for his family. He had turned seventeen a few weeks ago, but Jasmine always made him feel like a child again with her constant excitement. She wasn't the only one who could make him smile, but she made him smile the most.

He didn't know how to describe his relationship with Lily however. 'Complicated' was one word for it. He loved her too with all his heart, but the two of them had butted heads a number of times over many issues through the years. Harry didn't know the percentages, but they were about even on who won their arguments. Lily, unfortunately, hadn't been able to always be around when her children were growing up because she'd had to take up her own job once Voldemort disappeared.

Lily had worked as a Charmcaster and Investigator at Gringotts. Her job was similar to a Cursebreaker, but she focused on understanding spells cast on ancient artifacts that weren't designed to kill an intruder. Due to this, she would have extended absences when Harry and Jasmine were much younger. They would talk every night over the Floo Network and Lily would regale them with stories about where she was, but it wasn't the same as being there.

Lily had left Gringotts once Harry began Hogwarts six years ago. Ever since, she tried to be a constant part of both her children's lives, as the time away had wounded her as well. Jasmine had been ecstatic since it meant Mom would always be around, but Harry was used to his independence by that point. At times, Lily would intrude on something he was doing, and he had grown tired of it.

Harry had never faulted Lily for her time away, as they'd needed money until Harry could access the Potter family vault. Because of some strange goblin-wizard treaty, only an heir above a certain age could access a family vault if there was no living Lord. Sirius had tried to get Lily access through her prior marriage to James, but the goblin's laws stated a marriage was annulled once it ended—regardless of whether it was due to a partner's death or not.

Sirius hadn't been able to help that much financially either, as his family had all but cut him off once the war stopped. He avoided being completely disinherited though, so he inherited the Black Lordship upon his father's death. There had been a lengthy inheritance battle with the Malfoys, but Sirius eventually won that fight with Dumbledore's assistance. It had cost Sirius his title and benefits thereof until Jasmine's first year at Hogwarts, allowing Lucius to push certain legislation through the Wizengamot with little challenge.

A knock on his door roused Harry. "Yes?" he called.

"Are you decent?" It was his mother.

He looked at himself, still garbed in just his towel. "One moment!" He summoned his clothes from each dresser drawer and dressed. He wore a simple pair of jeans and blue t-shirt. With a gesture, he opened his door for her. "Come in."

Lily Potter entered his room. Now in her late thirties, there were a few sparse wrinkles on her brow. Her hair was still a dazzling red that not even a Weasley could compare to; it fell past her shoulders, shining in the room's light. She stood a few inches shorter than Harry, and she was wearing a grey blouse and matching pants.

Her eyes, the same green as his, took in his room. Hedwig noticed the guest and flapped over to her, hooting a warm welcome. Lily reached up and gently pet Harry's owl. "Good morning, girl," she greeted kindly. Hedwig trilled, pleased at the care Lily gave her feathers. "Is Harry ready to go?"

Hedwig gave her a negative huff. She then flew over to Harry's side and nipped at his ear.

"Ow!" He swatted at his owl without any intent to hit her, so Hedwig deftly avoided it and pecked him more. "Like I said," he protested as Hedwig hovered near. "It won't take me three seconds."

With a wave of his hand, his trunk opened and dozens of pieces of clothes all piled in neatly and properly folded. The lid then closed with a solid 'thunk'. The trunk then shrunk down to the size of a toy car and flew over to him. He caught it and put it in his front pocket.

Harry raised a taunting eyebrow at both Lily and Hedwig. "I told you," he bragged.

Hedwig rolled her eyes and returned to her poach. Lily nodded once, pleased, and told him, "We need to get moving soon. Everyone else is going to meet us at the campsite."

"Got it." Harry summoned his wand – eleven inch holly with a phoenix feather core – from his nightstand. He then transfigured a spare piece of leather into a wand holster for his wrist. He fastened it and holstered his wand. He walked to the door and asked, "Shall we?"

"Let's." Lily turned and led him out of the room, closing the door with a swish of her wand. "Sirius will be coming with us."

Harry accepted it with a nod. Sirius had patently refused to be Harry's parental figure in place of James. The man had done everything in his power to corrupt both of his godchildren, and he'd succeeded too, to Lily's constant annoyance. He'd ensured the siblings were as mischievous as they were intelligent. Lily had received many letters from Hogwarts professors about her children's pranking escapades, though Harry was always certain to never leave any definitive link that could prove it was him. She'd tried to be stern with them over it, but it always rang hollow when she lectured them with a grin on her face.

The Potter penthouse had two levels with a glass wall that gave them a breathtaking view of the London skyline. It had a very 'new millennia' overall design, with a dearth of chrome finish and glass furnishings. The upholstery was plush and usually blue, though there were a few red armchairs scattered about that came from the traditional Potter estate house.

It had been an interesting choice, Harry thought, for his mother to choose the muggle style over the traditional wizarding. But he understood and even appreciated her decision. In her own way, Lily Potter wanted her family to not become traditional wizards in the British world of magic. She wanted them to forego tradition and blaze their own path in the world.

Harry intended on doing just that.

"Oh," Lily said, her eyes lighting up as she remembered something. She pulled a letter from her pocket. "You got this in the mail today."

Harry took it from her as they reached the stairs. He looked at it, somewhat interested though he knew what it likely was. Emblazoned on the top corner of the envelope was the seal of Hogwarts. It was addressed to him, so he opened it and dumped its contents into his hand.

Out tumbled a small white badge, and Harry couldn't suppress a smile. The badge was barely an inch or two wide, but it showed its meaning with two bold letters that took up its entire face: HB.

"Sirius will be so disappointed," Harry quipped. "I can see it now."

"He'll need a fainting couch," Lily joked. She reached a hand around his shoulder comfortably, but she hesitated to hug him. Instead, she tapped his shoulder a few times to show her affection. Her voice beamed with pride and love for him. "I am so proud of you, Harry. I know your father would be too."

That sent a faint flutter through his chest. Because of his other self's memories, he knew how lucky he was to have his mother and sister with him, but a greedy part of him still longed for his father. It wasn't an exaggeration to say his promise with his father was still driving him. Believing James would be proud of him always made his chest swell.

He gave his mother a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Mum," he said. His hand closed over the Head Boy badge.

She returned his smile. They then lapsed into silence again as they entered the main living area. Sirius and Jasmine were sitting on separate chairs in an animated conversation about the upcoming World Cup.

The Sirius before him was similar to the one in his past self's life. He was caring, brash, mischievous, playful, and loved his godchildren with all his heart. He was healthy as an ox since he'd spent nary a day in Azkaban, unlike his former self, and his goatee was always trimmed neat too. His hair was clean and his eyes shined bright with mirth at all times of the day. He had a few scars from his career as an auror, though Sirius claimed they added to his character.

"I am not," Jasmine huffed at Sirius. She turned to her brother. "Tell him, Harry! Ireland won't win with Krum as Bulgaria's seeker. He's nabbed the Snitch in every game this season, and Ireland's seeker is piss compared to him."

Jasmine Potter, a healthy fourteen years old, was nearly the opposite of Harry in how her genes showed through. Whereas Harry looked like his father and had his mother's eyes, Jasmine looked like their mother but had James' eyes. Her hair was just as red as Lily's, though Jasmine usually pulled hers back into a ponytail while Lily let hers fall. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans with an auburn sweater and a gold-encrusted necklace Harry had given her for her last birthday. Her hazel eyes were glaring in challenge at Sirius for their confrontation.

"Well, Harry," Lily interjected. "You are the resident Quidditch expert. How do you see it playing out?"

Harry knew how it had happened in his other self's life. Ireland won by ten even though Krum had caught the Snitch. However, as he'd already learned dozens of times over, things in his world didn't always turn out the same as they did for his other self. His prior knowledge served as little more than a reference point rather than a guide.

Harry considered what he knew of both teams in his world. Ireland was notorious for their impeccable Chaser-Beater combination patterns, letting them score the Quaffle with surgical precision against everyone so far. They'd won a few times even when their Seeker, who was average as he could be, was beaten to the Snitch. Bulgaria, on the other hand, had the best Keeper in the world along with the best competing Seeker. It was rare when they were beaten for a point, so the Keeper more than made up for their lacking Chaser and Beaters. They were undefeated so far because he gave up so few points before Krum snatched the Snitch – usually within the first hour of the game.

After a moment's thought, he shrugged. "I honestly don't know," he admitted, disappointing both of them. "Krum and their Keeper is a tough combination to beat," Jasmine snarked an 'I told you so' to Sirius, "but Ireland has two of the top five Chasers and arguably the best Beater combo in the world. It really could go either way."

Sirius met Jasmine's challenging eyes with a smirk. "Okay then," he said, his voice smooth and forever lacking the rasp Harry associated with his other self's memories. "Why don't we settle this with a bet then?"

Jasmine immediately accepted. "You're on. Usual stakes?"

"Of course."

"Then I can't wait to have my personal Sirius House Elf for a day again."

"Don't count your dragons before they hatch, girlie."

"If I may," Lily interrupted their usual banter. "It's getting close to time." They both stopped. Lily asked Sirius, "Did you bring it with you?"

"Got it right here," he confirmed. He pulled out a rusty railroad spike from his bag and put it on the table. "Should start in a minute."

Lily asked, "Everyone ready to go?"

"Yes, Mum," Jasmine answered with an exhausted sigh. She then added under her breath, "You nagged us so much we couldn't forget."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, young lady," Lily replied curtly.

Sirius smirked while Jasmine tucked her head in embarrassment. Harry shook his head and reached for their railroad spike portkey. He felt a shift in the magic around the object, signifying its activation. He told them, "Time to go."

The other three then reached for the portkey at the same time. Once the last of them touched it, it activated.

With a pulling jerk like a hook behind the navel, Harry, Sirius, Jasmine, and Lily vanished from the penthouse.

A/N: And I have another story. I am also alive, surprisingly enough. Let me know what you think of the premise and the chapter as a whole. I know that Alternate Universe Harry Potter has been done to death, but I'm pretty sure I have enough original ideas for this one that it warranted a chance.

For the few who noticed, yes, this is a re-write of another Harry Potter story I attempted a year or so ago. And I did delete that one. I just decided to scrap the whole thing and start over, because I loathed the beginning for that one. I'll spare you guys the details of why I hated it. Suffice to say, I thought it sucked, and that feeling didn't disappear over time like it usually does.

I'll probably update this one for a few weeks and move on to one of my others, as I have a few chapters done for this already. I might spend the entire summer in this one story, actually, as I have the first ten or so chapters fully plotted out. Though I don't know which story I'll return to first right now. Maybe my Naruto-DxD crossover, since it's been literal years since I updated that one. Although it seems people want to see my Code Geass and Naruto-Akame ga Kill stories updated more. My Underworld and Legend of Zelda (Twilight Princess setting) stories are all but abandoned, but I don't want to delete them because I do know what I want to do with them. My Bleach idea also still has a good chance of finding its way to paper and onto this site because I still feel that it's a good basic idea, though I haven't seen if someone has since stolen my thunder with it.

I suppose we'll just see what happens. I'm actually uploading this one a little early to test the waters a bit on my return. I didn't plan on releasing this until I had finished writing the entire introduction arc for this story. But, I figured, since I'm writing the last planned chapter for it, I can stand to see how this will be received.

Regards,
dripley11