Welcome, dear readers, to "Infinity Keeps Me Alive", a take on the old 'Harry Potter dies and goes back in time' trope.

I hope you'll have a good time reading this.

I thought it was over?

Infinity Inc.

"You're dead, Mr. Potter." smiled a suit-wearing twenty-something years old tanned brunette, seated behind a nondescript black desk in an otherwise empty white room. "Congratulation and welcome back to Infinity Incorporated."

"Huh..."

Yeah, he had nothing.

Seventeen years old Harry James Potter had willingly walked in front of a killing curse five seconds ago, having already accepted his fate with nothing but calm acceptance, so being dead wasn't exactly a surprise.

Opening his eyes to an immaculate office in what had to be the afterlife was.

"But being dead doesn't make us savages." said the woman, an inviting smile on her face. "Go ahead, take a seat."

"… thanks." babbled the wizard, plopping down in a chair he could swore hadn't been there before.

"You're most welcome." she replied. "Now, I remember it being quite destabilising at first, but be assured that it shouldn't last more than a few decades."

"A few decades?"

Had he heard that right?

"It's a rather crude estimation, but yes." she nodded. "Employees of your level usually manage to get over their mortal life in twenty to thirty-odd years."

Employees? Level? Get over their mortal life?

"What the heck are you talking about?" whispered the deceased wizard, extremely perplexed.

"Your internship, Mr. Potter." she explained, as if it was obvious.

"I… don't understand."

He truly didn't.

"Right, no memories." she sighed. "Do you remember one Xenophilius Lovegood telling you how gathering the Deathly Hallows would supposedly make one the Master of Death? Well, it is accurate… in a fashion."

Harry felt a sudden and prophetical feeling of dread crawl up his spine.

"The Philosopher's Stone, ambrosia, DNA mutations, fountain of youth, fruits from the tree of life, spiritual ascension through Dzogchen, even self-mutilation into a lich form… all of those things grant a certain level of immortality, undyingness or eternal youthfulness, depending on the case." explained the brunette. "When it comes to the Hallows, they reward their wielder with a level four undyingness, meaning that while you can't die from old age, hunger, thirst, disease or similar situations, you can be killed, as you clearly noted."

"Wait, you're saying that I am the Master of Death?"

At her nod, the wizard frowned.

"That's impossible." he said. "I owned the cloak and touched the stone, but I never got anywhere near the wand."

"And yet, it answers to you."she said "Albus Dumbledore was disarmed by Draco Malfoy, who you later disarmed yourself. The wand is yours, Master of Death."

Harry may be deader that an inferius at the moment, but he still felt his head hurting.

"Right, so I became immortal and got killed in the next ten minutes… fucking great." he growled. "What now? Does my… title mean anything here?"

"Your title is useless." she replied, shaking her head. "But your immortal status matters. You see, the more complete the immortality, the higher position you get to claim in Infinity Inc. A level four undyingness isn't rare per say – I myself obtained a similar rank through soma consumption, hence my position as your personal Grim Reaper – but it's not exactly common either, especially nowadays. Furthermore, seeing as you're the first mortal to successfully gather all three Hallows – what's with the relics being cursed to favour mortal peril – my supervisor has offered to promote the entire package to a third rank post, meaning that should you decide to work for the bureau, you would be able to obtain a managerial position after an established six century training period."

"You… want me to join your company."

"My co-workers and myself would be delighted to welcome you as an employee of Infinity Incorporated, yes." smiled the Indian immortal.

"I would be… Death? Or… a Death, I suppose?"

"Indeed, my assistant for a time, before becoming my immediate supervisor."

It was vaguely disturbing to imagine himself as an embodiment of death, no matter the rank.

"And if I refuse?"

Because that was an option too, right?

"That would leave you with two options… well, one, really. You would be able to remain in the afterlife for the regulatory century, before being send back into the cycle of rebirth with no memories and no guaranty whatsoever of ever regaining a similar immortality."

She didn't seem to like this option.

"And before you jump to conclusion, working with us won't prevent you from visiting your family and friends."

Being reincarnated or working as a Grim Reaper for all eternity, either way, he got to spend several decades with his family…

"What's the catch?"

"There's no –" she started, stopping abruptly at Harry's raised eyebrow.

It seemed to say 'Seriously? Who do you take me for?'

"Damn Seeker's hypersensitive perception." muttered the Death, fidgeting on her seat. "Fine, so there's a… little problem."

"I'm all ear."

"The Hallows are… faulty." she explained. "They've never been gathered before, so the issue was overlooked, but they have locked onto your soul… and Tom Riddle's horcrux."

Silence fell in the office.

"What?"

"Horcruxes are a level eight form of eternal youth, bottom of the ladder, debugging and coffee duty. He would probably weasel out of it and ask for a reincarnation, but the soul piece in your scar was unwillingly elevated to a level three rank and I can't really see him refusing a position of power."

"Can't you just… force him into the reincarnation cycle?"

"Free will." she sighed. "We have to make the offer and respect his answer, even if the bureau would rather avoid having an insane horcrux as a manager. Not that he would be able to do anything here, but…"

Voldemort standing on the third highest march of the Afterlife… yep, that would be troublesome.

"And if the position is filled, he'll be demoted?"

"No, the rank one executives will either create another post… or make you work with him."

"HELL NO!"

"A perfectly understandable reaction." nodded the Reaper. "One the administrators happen to agree with, which has prompted them to be a bit more… creative."

"What do you mean?"

"Partial reincarnation." she summarized. "It's not exactly common practice, but we can bend time and send you back, let you relive your life. Then it would simply be a matter of expelling the soul shard from your scar prior to your death."

Right… simple.

"And this time, you'll get to keep your memories."

"… this time?"

"This is our third encounter, Mr. Potter." smiled the brunette.

What?

No, wait, he didn't think that, he shouted it.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me, this is your third death." she repeated. "Twice already have we send you back, hoping for a different result, but you somehow still manage to face Riddle in the Forbidden Forest. Strange, isn't it?"

Yeah… strange.

He'd died.

He'd become immortal and DIED!

Three freaking times!

In a row!

"WHAT THE F–"

"No need to be so crass." she cut him. "Now, about this partial reincarnation…"

Harry tried to glare her to death, to no avail.

"Inserting you into the timeline requires an emotionally strong life-changing moment, your parent's death being the first available point. It was thankfully established, during our previous interactions, that Mr. Rubeus Hagrid's introduction to the Wizardry World made for an adequate substitute and gave you a greater range of events to influence."

"But, if you erased my memories… how was I supposed to influence anything?"

"Your memories were repressed, not erased." she corrected. "Hidden from you, but not from the Sorting Hat."

"And that helped… how?"

"The Hat follows a strict set of rules, Mr. Potter." she replied. "The most important ones being that he's unable to reveal what he sees in a student's head – even to said student, in cases such as yours – can resort anyone that would so require and can't resort a student in a previously abandoned House without direct approval from the Headmaster. Sadly for you, partial reincarnation doesn't fool Hogwarts and your previous sortings register on the Hat."

Wait, did she mean…?

"When you first came to me, you were a Hufflepuff." she smiled sadly. "Probably due to your desire to have friends and a proper family."

A family huh…?

It must have been nice.

"During your second life, the Hat sent you to Ravenclaw, to try and get you out of your shell through knowledge and the wonders of magic."

Yeah, he could see the logic.

"Then came your latest incarnation, Gryffindor." she grinned. "Reckless, passionate, chivalrous, not overly social but always true to yourself… that one was spot-on."

Harry most definitely didn't roll his eyes.

"Which now leaves you with a… rather limited number of options."

"Slytherin."

"Slytherin." she confirmed, suddenly sounding quite grave. "Your last chance to solve this whole situation while lying low, after which you'll have to use another anchorage point or watch the Hat reveal your time traveller status to the entire school."

"I could let you deal with Tom." pointed out the frowning wizard. "Rejoin the cycle."

"But you won't." deadpanned the tanned Death. "It wasn't your style when you were in Hufflepuff, it barely took me two minutes to convince you when you were a Ravenclaw and it definitely wouldn't be a proper Gryffindor attitude."

She was right.

Harry silently cursed his saving-people-thing.

"Fine, I'll do it." he said through clenched teeth.

"Excellent." she beamed, producing a thin dossier from a drawer. "This is the contract we agreed upon after your first death, appropriately modified to negate the usual memory repression."

The undying wizard grabbed the offered documents and perused through them for a few minutes.

With a satisfied nod, he asked his Death for a pen.

"There you go." she presented the aforementioned writing implement, along with several other sheets of paper. Duplicates? "You'll need to sign here, here... date plus 'read and approved' here and here... now fill this, three times… I said three time and don't you start sighing, Mr. Potter… aaaand you're done, thank you."

Freed from the evil paperwork from the afterlife – no wonder Voldy would weasel out of his horcrux level job – Harry asked the big question.

"So, what now?"

"Now Infinity Inc. has the pleasure to send you back there." smiled the immortal woman. "Get rid of your freeloader and remember, deep breaths."

"What do you mean by..."

He never got to finish his sentence.