After nearly an hour of waiting the door to the small conference room Harry was sitting in finally opened. Through it came the two goblins; the one who had left him there and another he hadn't met before. He couldn't help but notice the guards give a salute at the sight of the new guest as they had previously stood perfectly still. Harry had considered trying to talk with them to pass the time but had decided not to when their brows had furled when he opened his mouth to speak. It seemed that they were still upset about him breaking in and riding off on their dragon six months prior.

"Mr Potter, this is Director Ragnok. He, for all intents and purposes, is the leader of the goblins here in Britain and of course manages the bank." The first goblin, the smallest in the room with the beadiest eyes, gestured towards his boss with a bit of a bow. He couldn't remember the creepy little thing giving him their name.

"A pleasure to finally meet the young man that," the other goblin started, then paused dramatically for a moment, "Liberated, the bank of its property. I would have thought a wizard would simply stay away after that." His grin was more than a little unnerving to the young wizard, but after his experiences in the war he was only mildly frightened. If they wanted him dead they would have done it. That was besides the fact the entire country would probably want to rip them to shreds if they did.

Harry wasn't immediately sure how to respond, and took a moment to try to analyze the situation he had stumbled into. Ragnok was broad shouldered like the guards and had a far more square face than most of his kind. His clothing was also much nicer than the others and wore a few expensive looking rings on his fingers. He had of course been apprehensive to request a meeting with the bank, but knew if he wanted to live normally he would have to try explaining why he had stolen from them. Knowing he was basically immune from any punishment because of his title of "The Man Who Conquered", yet another silly monicker given to him by the public, and so the goblins wouldn't be able to retaliate for what he had done. That did not however mean he wanted to be on their bad side.

"Yes, I had hoped to be given a chance to explain myself and find some way to make amends with your bank." He made sure to be confident in his response. Flitwick had given him some quick advice on how to deal with the goblins. Most of it has revolved around their respect for confidence and strength. The smile on Ragnok however did not falter.

"Yes, we are aware of the necessity of you acquiring the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. I had not known of Horcruxes before this but can safely say we would not have willingly allowed such a vile artifact to be stored here. This is the only reason we agreed to this meeting. However," the goblins grin somehow deepened further, "We would be glad to learn how you plan to 'make amends." This time Harry did feel a slight chill of fear.

"Ah, well," he hesitated, "I had at least planned to explain my actions and, of course, pay for any damages my actions caused. My plans are to become an Auror and while I'm sure I won't be able to pay you back immediately I hope we can come to some sort of agreement on plans to make payments over time." By the end of his speech he had managed to steady his voice and raise his jaw. They had to know he was serious or else risk them dismissing his proposal for something harsher. It was to his surprise when both Goblins across the table chuckled. After a quick look from Ragnok the smaller goblin walked around the table and placed a folder of parchment on the table in front of Harry. Harry quickly read the tops of each sheef of paper. Two were account statements for the Black and Potter family vaults as well as three wills, one of which he recognized as being from Sirius and of course the other from his parents. It was the Last that first raised and then furrowed his eyebrows.

He had already gotten the gist of what Sirius' will had said; leaving him most everything he owned. His parents was a mild surprise but also it made sense that they would have drafted something in case they died. Whatever it said would matter little at this point outside of sentimentality which couldn't be enjoyed at the moment. It was the last, however, that came as a shock.

"The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter." He mumbled under his breath as he read the words. His hands shook as he read farther down the paper and if he had been younger and less in control of his magic it would likely have caught fire.

I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, acting within my powers as Magical Guardian to the child Harry James Potter, known as the Boy-Who-Lived, do certify this will to respect the best wishes of my charge.

In the event of the untimely demise of Harry James Potter, any and all holdings within his name are to be distributed as such.

To the Weasley family; the extent and breadth of the Potter Estate and holdings. They have staunchly supported Harry at great risk and sacrifice to themselves. Any such transaction is to be overseen by Molly Weasley nee Prewitt.

To Hermione Jane Granger; the extent and breadth of the Black Estate and holdings. She has proven herself a friend in times when others were not brave enough to do so.

In regards to to the continuation of the Potter and Black lines, and as such their authority within the Wizengamot, they are to be transferred to the respective beneficiaries. I feel it would be most appropriate for the two young women that mean the most in his life, Ginevra Weasley and Hermione Granger, to be given the opportunity to continue fighting in young Harry's name.

Any personal effects and no less than twenty percent of the Galleons held under the possession of Harry Potter are to be transferred to Ronald Bilius Weasley. If any could appreciate the use of that which my charge cared after the most it would be his best friend and companion.

All stated parties have been made aware of and have agreed to the contents of this will. Should I survive my charge I will see fit to personally handle the distribution of his assets to the respective parties. Should I not, I ask that Gringotts endeavor to do so themselves.

Signed,

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (first class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot

It took several moments for Harry to compose himself as he re-read the contents of the will. No, his will. His will that, according to this, others in his life had been privy to despite his complete ignorance of its existence. It was dated just around the time he had turned 16 over two years ago. Just about the time that he and Dumbledore has confirmed that Voldemort had created Horcruxes. Likely the same time that Dumbledore knew he had one inside his scar and would need to be killed to see it removed.

If he had not already spent many nights in the past months crying, or more recently wishing to do so when the tears had dried, he would have shed some there. Instead he felt only anger and shame for having truly been nothing more than a pawn this whole time. Ever since first year he had been used; it was surprising he had been a bishop in stead during in the chess match they had played trying to stop Quirrel.

Across from him the two goblins only looked at the boys reaction without comment. The smaller one was grinning, however Ragnok had a mostly impassive look upon his wrinkly features. Harry set the parchment to the side and looked over the two with the what he owned written on them.

"I had no idea my family had been this wealthy. Hadn't suspected anything was left of the black fortune after spending time at Grimmauld place." He finally looked up at the two Goblins. "Take what is fair in repayment for any physical damages I caused to the bank and for a new dragon to be brought in as security. If you take more than necessary expect me to be doing any future business elsewhere. After all, you already admitted my actions were necessary." Now he had a small grin on his face, although it was clear that he was still quite upset over the recent revelations.

"Of course we will be fair, Lord Potter-Black. We more than appreciate your offer of repayment. Much of the damage you caused was, however, quite easily repaired. We could consider your removal of such a dangerous item from our vaults as service to our business. As far as the dragon is concerned; your support within the wizengamot to allow us the ability to even import another would be more than enough. At the moment no amount of gold will convince your government to allow us another. Though, with the support of their newest champion..." Ragnok eventually trailed off, leaving the implications of his request obvious.

"Of course that would be no problem. At least once I figure out how to do so. As I'm sure you are aware I have been kept in the dark about many things in my life." He held up "his" will. "I would like this to be destroyed in every way. When I have time I will come up with my own."

"Of course," said the beady eyed goblin, "I will be back shortly with the proper paperwork." With a nod to Ragnok the smaller goblin left the room.

"Is there anything else Gringotts can help you with today?" Asked the intimidating aged Goblin.

"No, I think you have done more than enough for me today." Harry sighed, feeling more stressed than he had in months.

"Very well, I have other business to attend to then. Should you need any help or advice, specifically in regards to our agreement," Ragnok gave yet another large grin, "We would be more than happy to help."

MDODMODMODODMODODODODODODOMODOD

In the months following his defeat of Voldemort Harry had refrained from drinking alcohol. Instead he had done his best to surround himself with his friends and other close relations. Specifically trying his best to be close with his godson Teddy and the infants new surrogate mother Andromeda. With the loss of close ones the two shared they had themselves become quite close. At first the older woman had made him nervous. He felt guilt that the Lupins and Edward had died in defiance to a madman that had been after himself. However she had quickly proven to be more than kind and was the one that had helped him the most with coping with what he had experienced.

Other than Andy, as she preferred he call her, he had spent his time at the Weasleys. Much of that was spent alone with Ginny or doing his best to hold conversation with the others. All were grieving the loss of so many friends, or in the case of the red-headed clan, the absence of Fred and the joy he had brought in their lives.

So it was strange that Harry could be found on the night following his visit to Gringotts on a stool in a bar, drink in hand. There were precious few others he could turn to for help dealing with his current dilemma and none of which he wanted to bother on such short notice.

"Merlin, I need to stop." He muttered under his breath after standing to go hit the head. When he had used the washroom and splashed some cold water on his face he felt much better. Resisting the urge to drown himself further he waved a polite nod to the bartender and walked down the street. Deciding he should get some coffee and actually consider what to do next he made his way to a nearby station and waited for the next train to arrive.

Ever since before his sixth year he had found riding the trains at night to be relaxing. Before long he heard the familiar sound of the muggle engine coming to the station and had boarded it. His thoughts muddled he had nearly missed his old favorite stop. Stepping off the train feeling mildly less intoxicated he was quick to make his way over to one of his favorite cafes, hands in pockets and eyes cast downward in thought. He barely looked up as he swung the glass door inward to take stock of the small restaurant. It appeared empty besides a waitress reading a book behind the counter. She stood up and gave him a smile as he sat down.

"Just a coffee, please." He said simply, trying not to sound either drunk or upset.

"No problem." She responded with a still cheerful smile. "Bad day?" Was all she asked as she poured him a cup.

"I suppose." Was what he managed before adding some sugar to his drink and stirring the dark liquid. "Could have been worse."

"Not as bad as getting stood up for a date?" Harry looked up in confusion. A short ways down the other side of the counter the waitress was leaning on her elbows giving him a knowing grin. It took him a few moments as he sat there open mouthed before he managed to look back down and take a drink of coffee trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Ugh, sorry. I didn't recognize you with the new hair." He managed before quickly taking another drink. His face was on fire as he recalled how he knew her. Two year prior, just before his sixth year, she had nearly read his copy of the daily profit he had been reading in this same cafe. She had, quite surprisingly, more or less asked him on a date after she was done working. For whatever reasons he had ended up never meeting her for it. Before the dark skinned girl had worn a large stylish Afro, but now wore it down and pulled into a ponytail. Between the whirlwind of activity and his relationship with Ginny he had almost completely forgotten about her.

"Glad you remembered that at least. Haven't seen you in here since then. Thought maybe I scared you off." There was a slight hint of nervousness in her voice.

"No, not at all! I just," He paused for a moment, not sure how to explain himself. "Ive had a lot going on in my life since then."

"Like what?" She posed, her grin coming back.

"You wouldn't believe the half of it." He laughed as he finished his coffee. "I really should be going though, it's pretty late." Harry considered it in his best interest to make a hasty retreat. One didn't survive a war without a sense of self preservation.

"What, not going to try to make up for it?" She asked, this time with a wide smile.

"That-" Harry took a few moments to realize what she was asking. "Well, you don't happen to get off work soon do you?" Her smile grew at this.

"Not tonight, but I'm free tomorrow. How about you pick me up here at the station tomorrow at eight?"

"I'll be there. Er, here." Harry gave his best lopsided grin as he payed for his drink and left, trying to decide on a place to stay for the rest of the night.

MODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMOD

"Thank you, Kreacher." Harry remarked as he took the proffered cup of tea from the old house elf.

"Kreacher lives to serve." Was all the house elf said before disappearing with a light pop. Harry stared at the spot for a moment; contemplating the sad... creature. After returning to Grimmauld he had quickly realized that the elf was very much nearing the end of his life. He had ordered the old elf to keep himself to simple tasks such as dusting and making the occasional cup of tea. Beyond that he had no idea what to do with him.

Sipping the tea he found it to be quite fantastic. Despite his previous misconceptions about the elf it could make a damn good drink.

Looking back down at the book on his desk he did his best to stay focused on the material. The large tome in front of him was focused on magical law; specifically about inter-species relationships within Britain. Even with advice from the goblins he was having trouble finding information to build an honest case to allow them a new dragon. It appeared the original had been either illegally born down in their caves, which would make sense considering its blindness, or had been transported past the blind eye of bribed officials.

With a sigh he placed a scrap of parchment in the books crack and gently shut it before setting it atop the stack of books on the corner of his table. Draining his tea, he stood and went to sit in a comfortable, if ragged, chair near the fireplace. A flick of his wand saw two more logs float from their cask nearby and gently place themselves in the fire.

Hand under chin he studied his new wand. The Elder Wand. Despite having snapped and discarded the dangerous relic it had mysteriously appeared in his pocket soon after. He had tried several other methods to rid himself of it, not wanting to paint such a target on his person. Ultimately when his attempts failed he decided to keep it rather than pass it to a knee owner. At the very least he considered it a deserved trophy from the war and that he would know it was in altruistic hands.

Almost as if begging for attention his eyes wandered up to the mantle above the fire. There rested the resurrection stone; entombed in a cube of conjured crystal. It too had found him at nearly at the same time as the wand. Upon further experimentation he found that it also could not be permantly destroyed or misplaced, nor could his cloak. The stone would stay in its place only if it was there for safekeeping. While he was happy to carry both the wand and cloak at all times he was carefully apprehensive of the stones powers. It had drove not only its original owner to madness but his descendants as well. The Gaunt line had ended as inbred lunatics that sired a madman. Clearly extended use was ill advised.

Now staring once again at the wand he was hit with strong feelings of anger. It may be a trophy, but so too was it a reminder of both the sycophant that murdered him and the manipulative old codger that had lead him to it. With a snarl of frustration he threw the wand in the fire. It's dry wood quickly caught flame and burned to ash without even the smallest of pops.

He stared at it long after it had been consumed and turned to ash. Thoughts of revenge, plans for the future, and doubts of the past; all consumed him until he eventually nodded off in the chair.

The next morning he awoke to find the Elder Wand gripped tightly in his hand.

MODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMOD

Eight heads stirred in succession after their bodies had been given a quick blast with an awakening spell. Even in the dim light it was easy to make out the distinct shade of red hair that adorned seven, and the unmistakable frizzy mess of the eighth. It took only moments for the people seated before Harry to realize they were bound to chairs; seated around the family dining table next to a low burning fire. Panic gripped them and they all began trying to shout only to further realize they were also silenced.

"Well, I'm very glad I'm not any of you at the moment. You have no idea how many times I thought I'd wake trussed up by some rogue Death Eater or crazy fangirl." All head snapped to the side of the table opposite the fire. In the shadows, glasses shining as if filled with red flame, sat a grinning Harry Potter. One legged cross over the other and hands steepled in front of his chest. Immediately the surviving Weasley's and Hermione began struggling in earnest against their bonds.

"Oh, all of you calm down." Harry said standing. All eyes noticed the wand in his hand, though only two recognized its significance. "I'm not going to kill any of you. Perhaps I should, and I most definitely thought about it, but overall; I just wanted to let you all know how disappointed I am. Or at least make some of you aware of how disappointed you should also be." He paused dramatically, beginning to pace around the table like a cat. The Elder wand tapped against his chin for several moments as he collected his thoughts.

"Molly Weasley," his eyes snapped to the buxom matriarch. "I considered you a mother. Maybe I still do in some ways. However it is obvious you did not care about me as deeply as a mother should. Perhaps not a fair burden to place upon you. Considering I've only met my mothers ghost for a grand total of about a minute I might not be the best judge of that, but still; how dare you agree to a will being made in my name. How DARE you not inform me." Sparks flew from the end of his wand before he could calm himself down. "I do not care wether you thought you had my best interests in mind. The fact that I had never had any time, any room for the thought of a will, yet you did is despicable. Know that I have lost any love I once held for you." With a growl he fell back into his chair.

"Granger," He leaned back in his seat with a deep frown. "You have always been there for me. Always believed in me. More than anyone else I consider you family, my sister in life. Wether Dumbledore," he spat the name, "Told you I would have to die, or simply convinced you a will was in my best interest, I have no idea. It doesn't matter. Again, you all took the time to consider my death without me while it was all I could do to try and keep living." He stared deeply at her for nearly a minute. She was crying, as were several others at the table. He felt awful but still carried forward.

"Ronald, you were my first and best friend. Now, I could give a rats arse about that. I can only imagine how your eyes lit up when you realized you'd be getting a piece of the pudding. It's no wonder that you actually helped in the end instead of lazing about as usual. I appreciate what you did for me but consider this the end of our friendship." The red heads eyes were white and his face even more pale than usual. Harry could see himself befriending him once again as he had ultimately been a true friend but felt what he had said was fair. Next his eyes landed on Ginny.

"You can consider this the end of our relationship as well; whatever of it remained. I'm not sure if I even ever cared for you or was just so desperate for genuine affection I was blinded." She was crying even harder than Granger. This time he definitely felt awful about his words. Yet he knew it would be best to leave her angry at him. It would hopefully make it easier for her to move on.

At the opposite side of the table sat the elder males of the Weasley Family. Bill, Charlie, George and Arthur were all looking between himself and the mollified prisoners sat in front of them. Harry pulled out a piece of folded parchment from inside his coat and placed it, unfolded, in front of them.

"This was my will. Made shortly after I turned sixteen, and just after when Dumbledore likely learned things that suggested I would have to die in order for Voldemort to fall. There is no way he could have known the circumstances that lead to me returning back to life." He gave them a minute to read the paper, some of them looking at the guilty parties in anger.

"You were all beneficiaries even if you were not informed. I consider that an indication that the Headmaster would not have trusted you to keep quiet about it. You are all still my friends and family, if you would keep me after this." Everyone at the table looked at him, clearly begging to speak to him. He considered letting them have their say but quickly decided to stick with his plan. Sleep was already not assured for the seeable future and he did not want to twist the knife in himself further.

"I believe that is all I have to say." He stood and vanished the chair he had conjured, wandless and wordlessly. Everyone looked at him in shock as he used one of Albus's own famous parlor tricks. "By the time your bindings release I will be gone forever. I wish you all a good life despite what animosity I have shown you here. George," he looked sadly at his one-eared friend, "should I not survive what I am about to attempt I will be sure to send Fred your regards. Everyone else, farewell." Without any further delay he spun on his heel and Apparated away.

It would be several hours before the houses occupants were released and many weeks before relationships between various members repaired. Hermione in particular disappeared to Australia for a time to find her parents upon the realization that Harry was truly gone. The Weasleys once again drifted apart to focus on their various jobs and hobbies.

Percy was thoroughly confused when he stopped by the next day to find the rebuilt Burrow full of tension. He was soon a bit off-put upon discovering he had not warranted an invitation to Harry's improper ingquisition.

MODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMOD

"Harry!" Exclaimed a dreamy blonde upon noticing her friend approaching where she sat on the bank of a river near where the Rook had once sat. Harry smiled and drew her into a hug as she stood.

"I see you are still living wild." He mused near her ear before pulling back. They both looked pointedly at the tent and remains of a campfire that was nearby.

"After your retelling of your adventures last year I thought there could be good luck associated with living out of a tent." She skipped over to one of the logs placed near her fire pit. Harry just shook his head and walked over before conjuring his own log to sit before muttering a quick spell to restart the fire.

"All I ever got out of it was sleepless nights and even more of Ron's snoring." She giggled in her singsong way. "Have you had better luck with it than me?"

"Well, some chipmunks ate most of my food a few weeks ago. That may have been partly my fault as I was the one who invited them in." Her ginger tapped her lips as she set into thought. "There was also the time the wind blew it away in the rain, but I was too busy dancing in it to really care at the time. Then there was the day I lost my necklace and the Nargles found me. They made me think of father." She was looking quite sad at her last statement. Harry, having at least some tact, made his way around the fire and sat next to her before bringing her into a hug.

"So not much luck then, huh?" He stated evenly. She shook her head in affirmation. After a few minutes of silence they pulled apart, "You know there are plenty of people you can stay with, right?"

"Oh, it's fine. I've been planning to go traveling and didn't want to get distracted. I'm leaving in a few weeks for the mainland to search for a few of the creatures in my fathers journal." There was a few tears that she quickly wiped away. Most of her normal Luna-ness was gone, which Harry never liked seeing. His quirky friend was only like this when she was particularly upset.

"Will you be writing more of the Quibbler? And please don't tell me you plan to go alone." He replied.

"I'm not sure about writing at the moment. Maybe somewhere down the line. As far as going alone I have actually found someone also interested in studying animals. If you weren't leaving so suddenly I'd have loved to introduce you two. I'm sure he'd love to hear about the Basilisk." She was smiling and mostly back to her normal self by the end. Harry could only grin and shake his head.

"How could I think you wouldn't know I was leaving. I don't suppose you are going to try to stop me?"

"We all have our own places to go." Luna stood and went back over to where she had been sitting before. The moon shone off the the gently flowing stream in front of her. Harry had followed and stood next to her. "Just be careful, and if you get a chance, write me a few letters." She looked up at him with a dreamy grin.

"It might be quite impossible to send you a letter where I'm going."

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived; if anyone can do the impossible it's you." She turned back to stare at the water. For a while they simply stood and stared across the grassy field, Luna humming a tune only she could follow the melody of.

"Oh, before you go I should give you a gift!" She exclaimed, running over to her tent. She slipped inside and he could hear quite a racket being made inside. He was about to ask if she was alright when she fell out the flap on her face looking disheveled. In a moment she was up and smiling, a string with several butter beer forks threaded through it in a makeshift necklace.

"This should keep the Nargles away; I know they like to hang around you so much." Harry took the proffered jewelry and was put it on. He lifted one of the corks up to examine it.

"Thank you, but I don't think I have anything on me I could give you."

"Never mind that, I think including me in your will is more than enough of a thanks." Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"I'll miss you." Was all he could think of to say. She pulled him into a final hug.

"We'll meet again sometime. Besides, if you figure out how to write me it won't be so bad."

The two teens laughter filled filled the air for a few moments. A short while later Harry said his final fairwell to his friend and popped away with a small wave and a sad smile.

Luna simply sat back where Harry had found her. Another gentle tune humming through the air, this time a bit more dreary than before.

MODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMODMOD

BANG BANG BANG BANG

An awful racket pounded through the air of Neville Longbottoms room. He was up in an instant, fumbling for his wand. In his confusion he was unable to locate it and fell unceremoniously out of his bed.

"Looking for something, Nev?" Asked a familiar voice. The Longbottom Heir looked up in frustration to see Harry leaning against the poster at the end of his bed; his own wand waving in one hand while the other limply held two pans.

"Bloody hell, what in the world are you up to now?" He asked, standing up. Harry tossed him his wand and beckoned him to follow him.

"We need to talk. I'd prefer to do it in your study if that's alright." Neville simply huffed and pulled on a night robe.

"Fine, this better be important." They quickly made their way down the big empty corridors of Longbottom manor. In a few minutes they were in Neville's personal study. Plants of various mysterious kinds were all about the room. Harry sat down in one of the two chairs as Neville went over to a small cabinet and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of fire whisky.

"Since you're breaking into my house all cloak and dagger like I assume whatever this is will require drinks." He said, clunking the glasses on the table between them and pouring two fingers of the light brown liquid.

"Yes, it will probably help." Harry replies as he took his glass and sipped. It burned quite harshly enough on its way down that he coughed. "I'm sorry to say this Nev, but I'm going to die." He surreptitiously took another sip of his drink, it sure how his friend would react. Neville for his part reacted well, only giving a deep sigh before downing his glass. Smoke dribbled out his nose as he made a pained expression and then poured himself another drink.

"Any plans to come back this time." He sipped again. "You have a habit of recovering from it."

"No, I don't think I will be coming back this time. Neville, things here are... bad. My life is a joke; I found out two weeks ago that my best friends, the woman I loved, and the closest thing I have to a mother were all privy to my death before me. There was a will made by Dumbledore when I was 16, two bloody years ago, and they all knew about it." Neville closed his eyes and knocked the back of his head against his chair a few times before throwing back his drink once again.

"You should have had one anyway, but I can't believe nobody told you." Replied his friend, pouring another drink. "That could be considered line-theft, you know? Doubly so in your case."

"I don't really care about any of that. It's just painful that I can't trust anyone to really be on my side." Harry finished his own drink which Neville quickly refilled.

"I'm on your side, mate. There are plenty of people on your side. You don't need to off yourself just because you find out a few more people in your life are gits. Hell, all of Gryffindor turned its back on you several times and you always handled it fine." Neville stared seriously at him. Harry realized just how much the shy young man had grown up. He was glad he had come to speak with him.

"It's not that simple, but I'd rather not get into the details of my plans. Just know I'm not doing this to run away. If this pans out half as well as I hope maybe I'll be able to fix all that happened. If not," he took a large sip, "Well it's like you said. I have a habit of recovering from these things." Neville just sighed once again.

"Fine, I'll let you go along with whatever crazy plan you've come up with. I'm not as wimpy as I used to be," Harry followed Neville's eyes to where they were looking intently at the sword of Gryffindor, now hung above his desk, "But you would still probably kick my arse if I tried to stop you."

"I did stop the greatest dark lord that ever lived." Harry replies, puffing out his chest in false bravado. The two old friends chuckled. After the, somewhat alcohol induced, laughter died down things were once again serious. Harry withdrew two pieces of paper from his coat pocket and handed them to Neville. "You can keep the map. I hear you have plans to take over for Professor sprout at some point. The other is my will. There is another copy with the goblins but I thought that since you're the main benefactor that I should give you your own copy just in case." Neville was soon lost in thought, scanning the document he had handed him. After a minute his friend just gave a huff and tossed Borge parchments on the table.

"That's a lot of responsibility you've put on me there, mate. Regent of two more houses on top of being the last heir of my own." He rubbed his chin, scratching some of his stubble in thought." I suppose this means I could take three wife's. I'd have to convince Hannah though." He finished with a grin. Harry laughed in response.

"You should have seen me," he started, having to take a deep breath to continue, "When I read that I might be expected to take two wife's. Sirius must have thought he was being real bloody funny when he made me his heir." Both boys shared a round of laughter.

The conversation lifted in spirit, their talk continued for some while about happier times. In the end Harry was forced to make his farewell, sharing a strong handshake and a tight hug with whom he now was able to call his heir. The Man-Who-Conquered walked down the path leading from the entrance to Longbottom Manor happy and confident in his plans.

As he spun away in Apparation one final time he thought for a moment maybe he should stay. However he knew now it was too late. Goodbyes had been made, plans put into motion, and the thread of fate unwound from its spindle.

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Since the last time Harry had been in the Department of Mysteries they had clearly made some changes to security. It took him nearly an hour of sneaking around under his cloak for him to even find the entrance. It's location had been changed and there were repelling charms placed on it. Even under his cloak, which lessened the effect of wards, he still had to pinch himself a few times to even reach it. Once there he had tried everything he could think of to open it. After a few minutes of repeated failures he decided that since he wouldn't be facing any repercussions anyway he might as well do things the fun way.

It was around that time that a large boom rumbled through the ministry, followed closely by the alarms. What few civilian employees were inside quickly rushed out to the floos. On-duty Aurors rushed to where the disturbance was made and were soon followed by Unspeakables that came running through the green flames of the atriums fireplaces.

"Not very subtle at all." Harry commented from where he stood several meters from the wreckage of the doorway fanning smoke and dust from his face. Hearing the alarms he realized there was need to hurry and rushed through the impromptu entrance.

Those responding to the scene heard several more booms while en route. By the time they were there they found all the newly warded doors, requiring someone be allowed access for them to open, had been blasted apart. Later the Unspeakables would be forced to once again rethink their security strategies. However when the combined force of Aurors and Unspeakables stormed their way inside they found no sign of an intruder. Nothing was taken, destroyed, or even moved.

For months they would wonder what had happened. It was eventually concluded that the warden had done a poor job of setting up the defenses and they had backfired. This ended up creating a lot of headache for one particular which, who never lived down the ridicule of her coworkers.

Being an unspeakable sadly meant she didn't know who to get revenge on for the ribbing. So she ultimately just decided to prank everyone in Britain in a grand scheme involving cabbages, several hypogriffs, and a cauldron full of runny eggs.

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In front of Harry waved the veil of death. As soon as he had entered the room he had been assaulted by the whispering that emitted from it. Now as he stood only meters away he could almost make out what they were saying, getting the impression it was a mixture of beckoning calls and warnings to run away. Overall it was quite unnerving.

Still panting from his recent exertions he reached in his pockets. From one he pulled back out his fathers cloak and threw it over his head. In his other pocket he retrieved the Stone of Ressurection and gripped it tightly. In his other hand he still held tightly to the Elder Wand.

Thinking intently on his demands of death and pushing aside his doubts he strode confidently forward into the veil.

It was cold as if walking outside in the winter. There was only darkness in front of him this time. No train at Kings Cross to ferry him to the afterlife.

Then, without warning, the vast emptiness before him split. Light of various colors and shapes moved past him coming from an unseen horizon. Harry felt fear grip him like a vice. He could not move, only stare in horror at the realization he was truly entering the unknown; a place where he was never supposed to be.

The lights changed in speed. Intermittently flowing faster, their shapes changing in one moment from rigid structures to shapeless zephyrs. He could not tell if he moved through them or if they were racing past him. Then he began to see his own face, his eyes, aglow with the rainbows that sped past even as he could see only darkness behind him.

Then, when the fear felt inescapably crippling, he was released. He floated in a dark void once again. He could no longer feel his body and a strange sense of ease became of it. For how long he floated he could not tell but it seemed for ages. Occasionally, or perhaps in rapid succession, he would float by vast formations of light that reminded him of things he had seen in school as a child. The peace he felt was bliss, and he almost began to wonder if this was the end.

Without warning, in the blink of his eyes, he was suddenly himself once again. The passing lights racing faster than ever, his body shaking as if he were in an earthquake. Once again the primal fear took control and he soon found himself flying over miscolored vistas as if he were on a broom. They changed just as the lights had. Becoming rivers, forests, and mountains seemingly at random.

Finally he saw only himself once again. He was drawn into his own eyes and for a time stared at them until he forgot all else.

Just as suddenly as it all began it finally ended, and he came to sitting in a chair.

In front of him was an ornate white table and the room around him was similarly extravagent; white walls and detailed crenellations. Several chairs were placed at random, fancy dressers beneath blurry paintings, and floors that's large tiles glowed as if lit from beneath. His breath was short and rapid despite the sense of calm he felt being here. His hands gripped tightly to the arms of his chair as his mind raced with questions. Just as he was about to move or call out, perhaps both, a person strode past him to his left and around the table. He jumped in his chair, having not heard anyone coming up behind him. A glance backwards saw he was only a few meters from the wall. He ignored this and instead focused on the other being.

They appeared to be a woman and sat in a chair opposite of him. They had no hair at all and wore a simple white robe. Her, their, features were plain and without definition. They stared blankly at him and said nothing.

"What..." Was all he could manage in the moment. Whatever question he would have asked forgotten before it even formed. They continued to stare for several long minutes. He sat tense, completely lost and terrified of what consequences he was about to face for his stupidity. Then they blinked, the first movement he had seen them make since they sat. They blinked again, and he blinked. The room around him was gone, replaced by his study at Grimmauld place. They sat across from one another again in two high backed chairs. His guest was wearing the same simple white robe, however her features had become distinctly more feminine and she now had long black hair of a similar shade to his own.

"It was very pretentious of you to think you could order me around." The being smirked, perhaps at his open mouth and shocked expression. "I can understand your reasoning at least." It took several moments for Harry to decide on his first question.

"Who are you?" This earned another smirk. He noticed she wore bright red lipstick.

"Im death, in a sense. Normally I am far too abstract a concept for living beings to interact with like this. It took me a while to adjust into this form. I was compelled to since you saw fit to return me my things." Her eyes flicked to a small table between them where the Deathly Hallows now rested; the stone and wand placed atop a neatly folded cloak.

"Am I dead? I mean, permanently this time. Clearly I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and I'm sorry for being rude. Things were just..." He trailed off as she simply stared at him. Her eyes were the same shade of green as his own.

"It is rare for a meeting like this to happen. The fates obviously brought you to me for a reason. What a shame it would be to disappoint them, no?" Her toothy grin was reminiscent of a goblins, though a thousand times more terrifying.

"So you'll do it then? Send me back in time?" Harry asked hopeful.

"No, I have no control over time. I can, however, bend the rules a bit in regards to death."

"What do you mean?" He asked when she paused for several moments, which she continued to do for a time after.

"There is another Harry, nearly the same as you. He died just before when he was eleven and, ignorant of his chance at a better life, chose to pass on. It would not be terribly difficult to send you back in his place." Death leaned back in her chair giving him a calculating look. Like a cat at a mouse.

"Do I need to do anything for you in exchange? I'm not exactly sure what you could possibly want from me though." His companion chuckled before suddenly standing.

"Just a promise not to go telling everyone about this. It would be very annoying to be bothered like this all the time." She strode over to his desk and picked up one of the ornate quills from its spot in an inkwell. She seemed to admire it for a few moments before setting it back down.

"Of course, anything you want." He was leaned forward in his chair watching her intently.

"Very well then, goodbye Harry Potter. Do try to enjoy yourself." Death finished with a smirk. Once again the world around him disappeared like a candle being blown out.

This time he awoke without all the theatrics.

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A/N So that's over with. Couldn't really decide on how he gets sent through time so I just did my best to describe the ending of 2001: A Space Oddysey. I've always thought the ending was about meeting death and rebirth. I might even just cut out Harry's conversation with death and leave it more open ended. Anyway, thanks for reading.

~Fumbls