I haven't read Harry Potter or Inuyasha in ages, so there may be a few things that are incorrect when I'm referring to certain things, so please excuse me. On that note thank you GorunNova for pointing out that the Sorcerer's Stone is not a Deathly Hallow. However that being said, the Sorcerer's Stone and the Resurrection Stone are two completely different things that have different properties, in JK Rowling's books (where the Sorcerers Stone grants immortality the Resurrection stone brings back people from the dead...) well for the purpose of this story I might (and probably will) say that the stone can do both these things even when I refer to it as the Resurrection Stone or Shikon jewel... yeah... so this stone is some almighty thing that holds the same powers as the shikon/ressurection/sorcerer's stone :)

...and now I have to make some minor corrections and change "sorcerer's" to "resurrection." If someone sees that I haven't swapped these two, please shoot me a pm or something.

Peace out! XD

Prologue:

The sands of time never stop for a single person. Everyone has a beginning and an end, there is simply no avoiding it. Even if someone is able to put a plug on their sand glass, it will eventually continue on. Everyone has a beginning and an end…. well except the master of death.

He had a beginning but no end in sight.

Harry Potter stood in the corner of the hospital room hosting his great-some odd grandson. A notice-me-not charm was cast around him so he needn't worry of a doctor finding him. Not that anyone would be looking for him as Harry Potter supposedly passed away many eons ago. Ever since his fake death, Harry acted as a guardian to his descendants. Always there, but never seen. For many years watching his family live happy lives was enough to satisfy his immortal mind. Sure he cried over each death of his children's children, and their children… but this was the worst.

After the thousands of wars and plagues, the Potter line grew thin and within a mere century the last of Harry's descendants was reduced to one man. The man Harry was currently visiting, this harsh winter day in the hospital, was that man; the last Potter.

Although his great grandson lived a happy life, Harry couldn't help but feel he had failed his only living heir. If only Harry had saved his heir's first love all those years ago the Potter line would have been continued! But even The Master of Death could do nothing when death itself claimed a life. A lone tear slid down Harry's face as he let out a soft sniff. Death was in the air, he could practically smell his subordinate closing in on his grandson.

"Master."

Harry's eyes never left his heir's face. He only had a few seconds left before Death reaped the life of his last family member. A shaky breath was taken as Harry slowly looked away and into the hooded face of Death. "I…" Harry began, another shaky breath was taken and he suddenly couldn't bring himself to look at his only companion who had been with him through out all of his immortal life. "When you take his soul away, I'm afraid my purpose of living will die with him."

A hooded head tilted to the side, making Death appear like a confused child. "You want it to end, Master?"

"More than anything. I'm tired of this. Tired of seeing so many die, while I just…while I just live! I don't even know if I'm living anymore!" Harry's head snapped up to meet Death's. Green eyes shown with so much fury and life, that it was hard to believe the owner of such bright eyes wished for death. "This isn't living, I'm merely existing." Harry's magic flared and several electronics beeped and whirled. Slightly panicked of waking his dying descendant, he quickly gathered control of himself. "I'm sorry, I just-"

Gasp.

Harry flinched as he looked back at the crippled form in bed. The heart monitor was beeping even more erratically than it did when Harry's magic flared.

"I'm sorry Harry," Death rasped out, dropping all pretenses and Harry knew he could do nothing for his great…grandson unless he wanted to make it worse. So he watched on with silent tears as Death waved a hand over the crippled form and gathered what remained of the soul before compressing it into a white ball of energy.

When the heart monitor became the resounding beep of a continuous flatline and the doctor ran into the room a bit of irritation seeped into Harry's core at the doctors intrusion of a private moment. But even as he contemplated ending the doctor's life for his rude interruption, Harry couldn't help but smile as his grandson's soul almost seemed to dance at finally being free from all the pain. Wiping away his tears, Harry lifted his hand out to the ball of energy, caressing the warm light that surrounded it.

"Nothing is forever, but you have been freed of your shell as a mortal. Until I meet you again in the afterlife," Harry bowed his head to the soul. He barely got to finish his last sentence as the soul zoomed out his reach and into the frosty night.

"Harry Potter, death at 12:45 pm." The sound of a pen on paper could be heard as the doctor filled out the certificate of death. "Hmm, this man lived quite a long life, hundred and five years old. He must have had a lot of stories to tell."

The Master of Death smiled a sad smile. He found it fitting that his last heir was named after himself. But atlas a small hole seeped into his heart and grew rapidly. His last descendant was dead and Harry no longer had a purpose. All these years his purpose was to watch over his remaining family and now… now he had nothing. It made him feel empty inside.

"If I may, Master."

Harry looked back to the hooded face of Death. His emerald eyes still shown with tears, but beneath the veil of tears was pure rage. A thunderstorm was brewing beneath those immortal eyes as his missing purpose turned into confusion with just a bit of madness.

Death audibly gulped at the look of insanity Harry wore. "The Deathly Hallows. If you can find new masters for them you might be able to rid yourself of your immortal status."

"I've tried, you know that."

"But a different time may work. You see I don't recall ever giving away the Deathly Hallows. I am the only Death in this world, but during my younger years I came across a man that fits your description. I couldn't put an end to him, but I remember when his soul was finally released…"

"Are you suggesting I was the one who gave the deathly hallows to the brothers of legend?"

Death nodded. "I am."

"And what happens when… I died?"

"You know I can't tell you that," Death chuckled. "But I will tell you that not all legends are entirely correct."

"I see," Harry replied lamely, giving Death an irate look. "Can you at least tell me where I died?"

Death threw his hooded head back and let out a hearty laugh, openly letting his Master know how foolish he was currently being. Harry huffed loudly and a crack soon followed. By the time Death finally got control of his laughter Harry Potter was long gone. "Good luck my master," Death chuckled as he cast a wandless tempus spell and checked time.

He startled, "shit!" Death wasted nearly an hour speaking with his Master and now he was behind schedule! He had souls to reap, darn it! Death cursed his Master, not for the first time, he hoped his past self would be able to pound some sense into that green eyed devil!

xXXXx

CRACK!

The sound echoed throughout the forest making all wild life deathly quiet and still. The only movement came from Harry Potter himself as he stiffly stood up. An immortal he may be, but apparition was hardly easy to stomach. Hugging his sides, the immortal promptly threw up his afternoon snack. He would much rather have taken a broom, but traveling through time itself wasn't something done with a broom and certainly not something a simple witch or wizard could accomplish with apparition.

Having effectively emptied his stomach, Harry cast a banishing spell over his emesis. Apparating millenniums back in time nearly depleted his magical core. He still had more magical reserves than even the greatest wizards, but the fact he was only at a fourth of his normal power was disturbing, even to him. Harry paused a moment, reading his magical levels once more before casting his senses out to the forest around him. There was a village a couple miles east of him, and by the aura surrounding him, Harry guessed he was in the Heian Period of Japan.

He frowned though, something wasn't right. The magic here felt new, while a more dense and dark volatile aura engulfed the forest and past the reach of his senses. The dark aura felt even more ancient than the magic he was use to in his own time. Although this demonic aura did remind him a bit of his own resurrection stone, its source was unknown and it worried him.

If the pure magic he sensed was as new as it felt, it would take a while for his reserves to fill back up. Either that or Harry would have to take a risk and use some of the "evil" aura this place was practically drowning in.

Sighing, Harry withdrew his senses. It wouldn't do to dwell on things he couldn't change, his own experiences told him that much. Running a hand through raven locks, Harry headed east all the while casting silent spells and charms over himself.

An anti theft spell to his pockets here, a protection charm here, and some spell work on his wands. Then of course the glamour charms to his clothing. It wouldn't do to walk around in his robes, so instead he charmed his clothes to look like a traditional kimono. He now wore a blood red haori jacket with a golden undershirt, his obi was also golden colored and held up his white hakama. All in all, he looked normal enough, for heaven sake he even charmed his boots into the wooden setta sandals. Of course nothing was too extravagant as to draw attention to himself but at the same time Harry couldn't bring himself to blend in completely; blame it on his Griffindor pride. His blood red Haori along with the golden silk he wore would draw attention, especially during this time of age when such bright colors were nearly unheard of and only ever worn by the wealthy. Still…. the fact he had no embroidery or a mixture of colors on the same layer of clothes would label him as a commoner…. a slightly rich commoner but not someone of extreme wealth and that was exactly what he wanted.

As the trees began to clear Harry stopped casting the numerous spells around himself and looked at the small village before him. It was a simple village, and while the numerous weapons thrown about the place was an odd sight it was something Harry was easily able to ignore. However the stench of death and the toxic feel of demonic power wasn't something the immortal could disregard… especially when the person had died prematurely. The Master of Death glared toward the house he could sense the demonic power coming from. While Harry couldn't stop the death of people destined to die at a definite point in time, he sure as hell could stop someone from dying before their time was up!

Fingering the resurrection stone beneath his first layer of clothes, Harry stepped fully out of the protection of lush greenery and into the village. "Hang on child," he whispered.

"Stop there, demon!"

Startled by the foreign language, it took a while for Harry to process and translate the words. By the time his tired mind realized the drastic difference in the Japanese he understood compared to the ancient Japanese language he heard, the man had a spear pointed to his chest. And by the time Harry came up with an appropriate response, he was encircled by hostile men all carrying muggle weapons.

"I am no demon," Death's Master said in near perfect ancient Japanese. "Please remove your weapon. I am a healer, and have come to save a life." A pale finger pointed to the house he felt the aura come from.

The man with the spear glared at Harry and slowly moved his head in the direction of the house but never once let his eyes leave Harry's form. The mans face became unnaturally blank as his head snapped back to face Harry. The spear dropped a bit and the immortal allowed himself to breath.

"Die! Demon!"

Breath caught in his throat, Harry took an unsteady step back. It would be all too easy to get away but a part of him, the part of him that so badly wanted it to end, forced him to act the part of the victim. Maybe this man, a man from the past could put an end to his life. Emerald eyes closed themselves from the world as Harry awaited the pain.

"Otousan!"

A shove.

Green eyes snapped open as a blur barreled into his chest and forced him to the ground. Harry gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, this was not the pain he expected. The Master of Death was so shocked that his grip on the resurrection stone loosened and it rolled out of his kimono and onto the ground next to him. Panicked, Harry ignored the weight on his stomach and reached for the stone, however perfectly manicured hand stopped his hand short.

"He's not a demon father!" The person who held him down spoke. The immortal flinched when the girl did nothing to remove her weight off him. Harry hadn't been this close to a person since his Ginny died, and now this child had her body draped over him! The physical contact was uncomfortable for him. "You should be with mother! Not taking out your anger on this boy!"

"Midoriko!" the man admonished.

Boy?! Boy? The Master of Death was no BOY! He was old enough to be this child's great grandfather! Despite the fact Harry Potter wasn't to be born until a few centuries from this time! He had years of experience under his belt and he was a far cry from a mere boy! A child like her could hardly understand the complexities of his mind, and she dare call him a mere boy when she had her body draped over him!? Is she in her right mind!? If he was a young boy he'd be having an entire sea of impure thoughts in his head right now!

Retching his hand free of her grasp Harry turned onto his stomach and pushed himself up in one graceful movement. Now that the girl was off his person he could clearly take in the brown eyes and midnight black hair. She looked to be 18 years old and wore a female kimono but with a few adjustments, the most major one was that it was a mix of a kimono and samurai attire complete with two swords attached to her obi.

"Midoriko!" the man, her father said again, but this time worriedly since Harry so rudely pushed her off him.

"I am no boy," Harry stated icily to the girl as he dusted himself off. He was aware that her father now seemed even more intent on killing him and turned to the aging man. "And I am most certainly no demon. Do you go about killing each person who happens across your village?"

"Boy-"

"I'm a man! I may be short but I'm 20 years old!" the immortal yelled, it was a lie he was several millennia old but he stopped aging when he was twenty so he was sticking with that as his age.

"Don't talk to me like that-"

"Whats this?"

Harry turned a raised eyebrow to the woman samurai. His heart nearly jumped in his throat as she reached for his stone. "No!" Harry, dove for the deathly hallow that was the stone. If anyone but a few chosen people touched the resurrection stone they would be scorched, and he'd be damned if he scarred the girl before him.

But he hissed as his hands came back burnt and smoking. Harry flinched away from the stone as he stared wide eyed… it couldn't be! He only just got to the past and already the stone chose a new master!? It was that easy!? Why hadn't he come here sooner?

An end! Could it be, he would finally meet his end? Harry watched with utter fascination as the girl, Midoriko, picked up the resurrection stone. She looked it over with curiosity and flipped it over her hands as her delicate fingers ran over the smooth surface and she felt the little cracks and crevices of the stone. Midoriko's face scrunched up as she studied it a bit more.

"Hah…" Harry started, a crazed smile gracing his face and as he watched Midoriko it only grew wider. Soon he was laughing hysterically with several tears sliding down his face. It felt as though a calming wave washed over his entire being as his magic sent whispers of a promise to him. The immortal- was he even immortal anymore?- felt free, for the first time in ages he felt as if his sands of time was finally moving again. He'd finally be able to rest in peace.

"This stone is strange," the girl stated and Harry forced himself to quiet down. "It has both pure and demonic energy. How is this possible?" Midoriko blinked at the stone as if not quite sure what to make of it, however a scream from the hut caused her to jerk her head in the direction. "Mother!" Harry could practically hear the unsaid curses the girl wanted to say at forgetting about her dying parent. Clutching the resurrection stone in one hand, Midoriko ran into the hut that Harry felt death radiating from.

The Master of Death grinned serenely as he felt the resurrection stone radiate power and encase the entire village in healing magics, even going as far as to call on the remainder of Harry's magical core. The immortal nodded to himself, this was it, his magic was keeping it's end of the promise; to finally let him rest. Now all he needed to do was will every last drop of his power into the resurrection stone.

With the stone finding a new master, he was to age like a normal man. However with his magic depleting itself to help the poor village before him, Harry was likely to meet his end very… very soon… Harry would be lying if he said he wanted to live the rest of his life and actually start aging again (as Nicolas Flamal- the owner of the sorcerers stone did), the truth was that he had lived for a long time and had no wish to grow old, he just wanted it to finally end.

If this was to be his last moment before his death, it was definitely a happy one. Especially when the stone saved a person's life and cleansed the barren village, making everything look new and clean. Though a part of Harry's magic sensed it was the girl's worry over her mother coupled with the power of the resurrection stone that made it have such a strong reaction. Yes, the stone chose a good master.

Harry smiled, he could feel his eye lids drooping and his muscles failing to keep his body up right.

He finally found his end and sooner than he thought too.

But as his senses began to fade from the world, Harry noted that he was still in possession of the elder wand and the invisibility cloak, two out of the three deathly hallows. A scowl reached his immortal face, he was beginning to feel the cold seep into his bones even as a small tendril of warmth promised to return and Harry recognized it as his stone. Its new owner would make it pure, but then it would be returning to it's master; Harry Potter.

So then…. this was not his end…

To his horror when he next opened his eyes, it was to the Sengoku period.

A/N: So I've never come across a story where the Shikon Jewel is the resurrection stone so I decided to write one! However if there is a story similar to this, I would greatly appreciate it if someone told me the title and author pen name so I can read it myself. I feel I'm more of a reader than a writer... Anyway I hope you all enjoyed the prologue to this story!