Harry sat up with a gasp. He searched around the impossibly bright room he was in. The very walls of the room seemed to give off a blinding white light. He finally managed to locate a person sitting behind a desk to the side.

The man was wearing a crisp suit and flipping through papers. At Harry's gasp, he had looked up.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. You are finally awake," he said with an easy smile.

Harry frowned at the man, "Where am I? Did you kidnap me?"

"Of course not. If you were to take the time to try and remember, you just died," the man said.

Harry thought back. He remembered getting up that morning. He could remember breakfast very clearly because he'd made ham omelets for Ginny, but she'd yelled at him and thrown them away.

'Must have been a mood swing,' Harry thought to himself.

Then he'd headed into work. He'd spent most of the day behind a desk filling out reports. Later in the day, he'd gone out to complete his patrol of Diagon Alley. After the Second Wizarding War, Aurors ran patrols of the alley during business hours.

He frowned as he tried to remember what happened towards the end of his rounds. He'd gone around the corner when spells were suddenly flying at him. He'd dropped down to evaluate the situation. A small crowd of similarly dressed wizards were shooting spells at panicking shoppers. There had been rumors of a new Dark Lord, and this seemed to be clear evidence supporting that theory. He'd managed to take down several of the wizards before a stray spell had hit him.

Harry hadn't recognized the dark purple spell. It had paralyzed him before making him feel like his entire body was set on fire.

"I can't be dead! What about Ginny and my kids? What will they do without me?" Harry dissolved a wordless rant.

"Oh right, the reports did say something about a love potion mixed with a love spell. Let me just remove that before continuing," the man said.

Harry watched as the man snapped his fingers. Harry kind of expected some giant display – maybe some fireworks – so he was slightly disappointed when nothing happened.

Slowly, though, Harry noticed the difference. He felt a tension that had been in his mind since his teen years slowly drained away. The angry beast that used to claw in his stomach completely went away. He was finally able to think without being constantly obsessed with Ginny.

"A love potion, hmm," he mused.

The man nodded wisely, "And a love spell. Though, it's not suggested to use the two combined. Plus being under them for so many years causes side effects. Bad side effects, permanent side effects. You're lucky I'm an angel with the power to correctly remove such effects or you'd be a vegetable for the rest of your life."

"Like, brain-dead?" Harry asked.

"Well vegetables are pretty brain dead, but you would actually turn into a vegetable. Normally a carrot, but sometimes something stranger, such as squash," the man said.

Harry looked at the man with a shocked expression before ignoring his last comment, "So dead, huh?"

"Yes, that purple spell was particularly nasty. It basically liquefies your insides before forcefully removing it through your pores," the man said.

"Nasty," Harry agreed. "And where am I exactly?"

"You are at a pit stop of sorts, similar to the train station you visited when you were –" he briefly checked his papers before continuing, "seventeen. I am an angel."

"An angel? Why don't you have wings?" Harry asked.

The man's shoulders stiffened slightly, as if the question had been rude. "I have wings; they simply aren't out at the current second."

"Sure," said Harry sarcastically.

"Can you imagine the damage they would do to my suit? Not to mention, why would I want to have my wings out? I don't need to fly anywhere," the man said with a frown.

"Right, you don't want to hurt your suit," Harry drawled.

"Fine, I'll show you my wings," the man stood up from the desk sharply. His chair skidded backwards with a loud screech. He removed his suit jacket and laid it neatly on the desk. Harry watched in amusement, before scuttling backwards in shock.

Where there had been only the man's white shirt, a pair of magnificent white wings where spreading.

"Do you believe me now?" the man asked.

Harry stared at the man, "Who are you?"

"I am Carver, one of the Lord's angels," Carver said.

"What do you want with me? If I'm dead, shouldn't I be on my next great adventure?" Harry asked.

Carver frowned almost sheepishly, "Well, things did not quite turn out the way they were supposed to. To start with, that Ginevra messed up several things. She put you under a love spell and potion to get at your money and the attention of being your wife. Once she got what she wanted, she started sleeping with other men."

Harry recoiled yet again. This morning, he would have sworn up and down that the angel was lying. Then again, this morning he was under the effects of love magic. Now that he was able to think clearly, he could almost see what Carver was saying. He now saw that all those times he had marked Ginny's mood off as a bad day, she simply hadn't wanted to spend time with him.

Not to mention, he'd never liked Ginny when he was younger. One day he'd just looked at her and a raging beast was roaring in his stomach. Was love always that fast?

Carver noticed when Harry accepted what he'd said and continued, "There is also the matter that Mrs. Weasley was receiving payment for caring for you. Ronald was receiving payment and certain benefits such as being prefect. Do you really think Ronald deserved to be prefect?"

Harry shook his head as he tried to digest all the information Carver was telling him.

"Then there is the matter of your first year. Gringotts was considered to be the safest place in the world. Why would you move a very expensive magical object from there to an arguably safer location only to endanger the lives of hundreds of children? Then to have the enchantments be so simple that a group of first years could get back them. Your first year was a giant test orchestrated by none other than Dumbledore," Carver said.

Harry wanted to deny everything. He wanted to scream and shake the man saying such horrible things about his closest friends and mentors. And yet, a part of him wondered if it might be true…

No! The Weasley's had taken him in. Dumbledore had made mistakes, he had even admitted it before he died, but he only did it for the greater good. That's right, the greater good. Any mistakes were only made to improve the greater good.

He looked up to see that Carver had been watching him.

"Do you know where Dumbledore first for the phrase, "For the greater good?" It was originally part of Grindewald's campaign, back when he and Dumbledore were best friends," Carver said gently.

Harry didn't know what to think. He grabbed his head as he screamed. It felt like his head was being split from the inside, but the pain was only a passing thought.

'Dumbledore wouldn't do that. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't do that. Yes, sometimes Ron got jealous, but he was my friend.'

'Please, Ron would turn on you at the drop of the hat. How many times do you think he needed a pay raise? And what about that first trip to Platform 9 ¾, why would the Weasleys use the muggle entrance when they could have flooed like any other Pureblood?"

"Shut up!" Harry screamed, trying to get the voices in his head to be quiet.

Carver hurried around his desk cursing, "Bloody heck, a long lasting loyalty charm, they didn't warn me about this."

Harry finally found his mind going quiet though a strong ache prevailed. He looked up to see Carver pressing his fingertips to Harry's forehead.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I apologize. There was no mention of a loyalty charm in the report, but as you are under my care, I should have personally checked," Carver said.

Harry sighed, "I'm confused and hurt. Could you create some chairs or something?"

Carver looked sheepish as he created several overstuffed chairs, "What is confusing you?"

"So Dumbledore has really lied to me for my entire life?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he has lied and manipulated you. Your other school years were also tests, though they were mostly Dumbledore taking advantage of certain situations and less of him setting everything up before time," Carver said.

"Were any of my friends real?" Harry asked.

"Hermione, Luna, and Neville were all true friends. And while Hermione may have been your true friend, but she and Ron definitely limited how many other people were willing to approach you," Carver said.

"What do you mean?"

"Not many people wanted to put up with Hermione's know-it-all attitude or Ron's temper. If you weren't constantly surrounded by them, you probably would have had more friends," Carver said.

The two sat in silence for several minutes. Harry felt like he needed a life time to digest all the information given to him, but he knew his time was probably running out.

"Well why am I here. It's great to know that my whole life has been one big lie, but what's the point of telling me once I'm dead?" Harry asked.

"I'm not just any angel, you know. I am your guardian angel. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep you alive? My boss wasn't happy to receive my reports of how many things were going wrong in your life. He is willing to offer you a second chance," Carver announced.

"A second chance?" Harry asked.

"We could send your soul and your magical core into the past," Carver said.

"Back into my old body?"

"We couldn't send it back into your old body because it already has a soul. Instead we would take a body as it dies. As soon as the soul leaves, while the body is still warm, we would heal the body and stick your soul and magical core in," Carver said.

Harry recoiled in horror, "You want me to kill someone?"

"Of course not! Do you know how many children die every day? It might not be the perfect solution, but it is your only option. You may go back and try to change things for the better, or… carry on," he said.

"Carry on?" Harry questioned.

A train, very similar to the one Harry had seen in the original vision all those years ago, appeared to the side. Harry had no doubt that it would lead him to his final death.

"Tell me more about option number one," he finally said.

Carver smiled, "I was hoping you'd say that."