Disclaimer: If you don't know who owns all things Harry Potter by now, what rock have you been living underneath? JKR owns them, I just figure out ways to put them in a bag and shake them up. Then I open it up and see what happens next. All of this is of course done free of charge, not that I could get paid to save my life…

Harry Potter sat in his rocking chair next to the fire, as he had done for the past 50 years, staring into the flames as the danced and flickered. He was lost in thought, remembering tales from his misspent youth. He was damn near 300 years old and had yet to show his age to be a day over thirty. He had lost so many friends, first to the horrors of war, then to old age. He had outlived them all, yet he had long since died inside. Silent tears began to trickle down his face as he thought of them.

Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Teddy, Charlie, Bill and Fleur, Ginny, Luna, Neville….the list went on from there to include descendants to the second generation before he withdrew from the world. He had sealed himself inside his home and had not responded to anyone in so long that he had been forgotten, save as a footnote in some history books. He was not so much apathetic as he was just tired of living.

His friends had all found companions and families, whilst he had been the eccentric uncle that traveled the world and told the best stories. He always had souvenirs and pensive memories from his misadventures, though some of it was censored, as he was no monk, and some things were not for anyone to see. He enjoyed telling the tales, but eventually he noticed something rather odd: he was not aging. His friends all eventually showed the classic signs of it- the greying and thinning of hair, the wrinkles, etc. Yet Harry was the same. He would have been fine with everything, until his friends started passing on, one or two at a time, until he was left being "Uncle Harry." He kept up appearances for his adopted nieces and nephews, but they could tell he was not happy.

At first it was when he would be telling a particular story of the old days and make a reference to a running joke that would have caused a knowing look or two and perhaps a chuckle or mock-outrageous outburst, expecting to be rebuked or have someone join him in the mirth, but he noticed that more and more the jokes were going over the heads of his audience and fewer and fewer of the people recognized the various characters and events as more than historical content. He became more of a novelty throwback than a hero or friend, and as time marched on in its inevitable journey, he found it increasingly difficult to be seen as something more than some fossilized relic or oddity from an era most chose to ignore. Thus, once the grandchildren of his friend's children began going to Hogwarts, Harry Potter vanished.

At first he kept in touch via post, but when owl services were abandoned in favor of newer advances, he chose to let himself fall behind the times, and eventually the requests to visit became fewer and his relationships with them became more and more distant. Harry stared into the fire one last time before he simply picked his trusty wand and pointed the end toward his temple, then repeated the two words that stated it all- AVADA KEDAVRA! The flash of green light, the color of his mother's and his eyes was followed by nothingness. His body slumped to the floor, yet somehow he found himself hurdled through a strange tunnel with splashes of rainbow colors, before darkness claimed him. "FINALLY!" Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Vanquisher of Lord Voldemort, Champion of the Light had finally retired for good.

HP

Or so he thought. Harry found his consciousness had drifted- much as a feather on a gentle breeze- to a place which resembled some sort of office building. He cursed his luck and began to fumble around in his robes for his wand, but quickly gathered that he was naked, save for some strange tunic which resembled a Greek or Roman toga, and his wand was nowhere to be found.

"Well, this is just bloody outstanding!" Harry thought to himself with an edge of bitter sarcasm. He glanced around and noticed a sign which he could have sworn was not there but a moment ago. The sign read:

WELCOME TO THE NEXT ADVENTURE!

CENTRAL PROCESSING

RING BELL FOR SERVICE

THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING DEATH'S CONDUIT

THE AFTERLIFE INC.

Harry reached up and ran his fingers through his already thrice-damned unruly raven locks as he exclaimed, "O Bloody Hell! Prongs? Padfoot? Moony? Gred? Forge? Teddy? Whoever of you is responsible for this sick prank is going to regret it!" He paused as he began surveying the large room, trying to use his Aura Sense to scan for anyone hidden by normal magical means. Though the ability did still work, he saw no one nor any of the usual tell-tale signs of someone using any known form of magical concealment. Still keeping himself on the alert, he resigned himself to following the advice printed on the sign. He approached the desk and rang the bell.

After doing so, Harry stood in front of the desk, hoping to get some answers. He waited for what in his estimation would have been a tad bit longer than he felt was polite, before he started to turn away, intending to go somewhere else. Just as he was leaving, he heard a door open and out walked the most attractive female he had ever seen. She was magnificent with her pale alabaster skin and ink black hair, violet eyes and dressed in a black power suit that clung to her ample curves. She held a thick file folder, so full of various colored papers that Harry was afraid the damned thing was going to explode in her hand as well as some sort of clipboard.

"Mr. Potter, how nice of you to join me today! I am Heather, your personal death representative. It seems there has been some sort of bolloxing up here and you were supposed to…" she opened the file folder and looked down at it, as if she was looking to find a reference, before continuing, "no…this can't be right! I mean, I am correct about someone bolloxing your file here, but according to this addendum here, it appears as if your destiny has vanished completely! O dear! This is unheard of in the history of this department! Heads are going to roll for certain!" The last bit seemed almost as if she was speaking with herself rather than addressing Harry.

Harry just pinched the bridge of his nose and took the opportunity to speak, "Erm…Heather was it? Where the bloody hell am I, and what in the bloody hell are you talking about? Sure, I lived an unusually lengthy life, but I just AKed myself because I just didn't want to continue living in a world without my friends and family. I was assured that when I passed on, I would be reunited with them, and yet here I stand. I confess that after all the cocked up shite that has been my life, not much takes me by surprise anymore, what with being fate's proverbial bitch and all, yet I have to admit this is probably the most complete and utter rubbish! I lose my parents at barely a year old and then was sentenced to hell on earth for the next decade, forced to slave away like a house elf at Malfoy Manor, beaten, starved and belittled at every turn, with no recourse nor champion to spare me the abuse! Then, I was whisked away and informed that I was a wizard, which gave me hope that maybe things were turning up for me for a change! Yet when I entered the secret world of wizards and magic, I find myself exposed to the most ridiculous turn of events each and every goddamned year!

First, there was Quirelmort and the Philosopher's Stone, then the ruddy thousand-year-old basilisk and the whole bloody diary fiasco, followed by a short reunion with my surrogate Uncle Remus and exposure to the foulest creatures on earth trying to devour my bleeding soul, discovering my not-so-guilty godfather had been thrown into a prison full of the very same monstrosities for the same thirteen years I had been with my oh so loving relatives in a prison of my own! He was thrown into that thrice damned place without even a bloody trial, framed for betraying my parents, whom he loved like siblings, mind you.

Never the less, He broke out of Azkaban to save me from the real traitor only for that incompetent waste of flesh known as Cornelius Fudge to ignore the evidence of the truth after I had been forced to use my patronus charm to drive off a full one hundred of the dementors with a charm that few fully-trained adult wizards could master, much less a third-year student. Then to top it all off I had to use a fucking time turner and go back to save my own godfather, despite his innocence and evidence to back it up in the form of one Peter Pettigrew's confession. Instead I was shrugged off as being manipulated by confundus charms. Then the whole bloody Goblet of Fire, followed by the resurrection in the graveyard, Umbitch and the DA, the mental link to Voldie, the DOM fiasco, sixth year following breadcrumbs, the fake horcrux, Death Eaters through the vanishing cabinet, Dumbles dying, the year of horcrux hunting, then the Battle for Hogwarts and the final vanquishing of Riddle. I went through all of that shite, only to find out I am some kind of freak that couldn't die. I was cursed, stabbed, beaten, thrown from buildings by explosions, frozen, cooked and had pieces of me completely amputated only to reawaken later as if nothing had happened and no signs of any injury. I stopped aging and watched as my friends did, then one by one they died and I became a fossil until I went hermit and finally took matters into my own hands! At this point, telling me that someone bolloxed their job a tad bit would be like saying that Voldemort was a toddler throwing a temper tantrum! I just want to know what the bloody fuck I did to someone to deserve all of that?"

The whole time he was ranting, Harry had been pacing the room and throwing his hands in the air with gestures and his aura became a tangible force, blowing winds and shooting crackles of magical static splashing a rainbow of colors about the room. Heather had to hug the folder to her ample bosom and crouch to avoid being blown completely off of her feet by the sheer magnitude of the energies at play.

She took the opportunity to respond once Harry had asked the final rhetorical question, smoothing her hair and shouting, "MR. POTTER! PLEASE CALM DOWN AND LET ME FINISH!" Her face was red from exertion as she struggled to shout above the noise. Harry was taken aback by the outburst as no one had even addressed him in such a manner since McGonagall had retired as Headmistress of Hogwarts some 250 years ago.

Heather was visibly shaken by the display of raw power in evidence, and she hastily produced a small flask before Harry reacted. He simply reached out with his magic and flung the flask away before shouting, "I bloody knew it! You damned dark witches and wizards think you can use that one on ME? Ask Barty Crouch Jr how well that one worked! Sure, he got away with it for an entire school year, but I was fourteen at the time and extremely naïve! At three hundred, I believe using Polyjuice to mask your identity is not going to work very well!"

Heather was shocked at the speed of his attack, but she recovered rather quickly, "I assure you Mr. Potter, that was simply alcohol and after nearly soiling my knickers, I needed a stiff drink! Now I am exactly who I claim to be! CALM DOWN AND LET ME FINISH!"

She took a pause to capture her breath, she was pale and shaken, her hands trembling as she took in shaky breaths before continuing, "Now, Mr. Potter, it seems you are a bit of an anomaly. You were actually not supposed to exist at all, but since you are here now, I suspect someone was playing fast and loose with the Fates. That having been said, unfortunately, you will be unable to cross over at this time. Apparently for your troubles, you have been granted a wonderful boon! You, unlike anyone else in the history of our department, will be receiving a special gift! You will be able to take your knowledge and magical abilities with you when you return. You can choose to relive things as they went or you can rewrite your story. The Fates will have no further say in your life and you can choose to offer this protection to anyone simply by caring about or loving them. I will check in from time to time to answer questions and give you a few hints, but your fate is up to you!"

She smiled as Harry began to pound his forehead on the counter, "Really? I just can't seem to catch a break! So, you are telling me I have to go back? As in relive all of my horrible past? Why the fuck is it always me?" Harry had his face in his hands and his eyes shut as he rubbed his fingertips over his temples.

Heather grimaced and with a look of compassion she responded, "Unfortunately, yes I am. But I am going to break every rule I can to stack the proverbial deck in your favor. First, I will be granting you use of a very special blade." She reached out and gestured her hand and a sword appeared out of nothingness. The hilt was marked with runes in a language Harry had never seen, adorned by gems of untold worth and beauty. The guard was a simple round metallic piece, which almost looked as if someone had stabbed a galleon. The blade however was not there.

Harry let out a guffaw, "So I get some kind of decoration in the shape of a sword hilt? Wow, spare the expenses there, Heather!"

Yet as soon as he touched the hilt, a nimbus of energy glowed an unearthly blue, concentrated about where the blade would be if the sword had one. The blade felt as if it were virtually non-existent for the weight. Harry gave it a tentative swing and watched as the counter burst into a shower of blinding flame. He flinched and dropped the hilt in shock, and as soon as it left his hand, the blue nimbus disappeared once more. Harry grinned sheepishly as he chuckled, "Well, I reckon that might have come in handy just a few times. What else do you have?"

Heather wiped sweat from her brow and pushed her spectacles back to the bridge of her nose as she returned Harry a grin of her own, "Well, Mr. Potter, besides the Darkslayer Blade, I have a potion known as Ambrosia. It will make you impervious to physical damage, boost your physical strength, and grant you an almost infinite ability to absorb and apply information. I have a ring, which once belonged to the High Priestess of the Mother. It is reputed to grant its user the ability to walk in shadows and mask his or her presence from all types of detection. Then, finally I have a scroll that when read aloud, the incantation grants the bearer Authority. I am uncertain what exactly that means, but it sounds pretty fetching!"

Harry took the vial from Heather and inspected its contents. The pure golden liquid looked much like Felix Felicis or liquid luck, but it was much brighter and viscous to the point of reminding Harry of honey. He returned the vial to her and responded, "Fine. Send me back. Just tell me I won't be seeing the inside of my mum and experiencing my birth first-hand!"

Heather laughed, "No. Actually the arithmancy determines that the best time to send you would be the summer before first year, or the summer after third. Both starting points have their own benefits and drawbacks, it just depends on just how much you intend to change. The sooner you return in the timeline, the more changes will happen. You will have to find a way to forge friendships with some people whom you ignored or were ignorant of the last go around, as well as face different challenges and barriers to overcome in regaining friendships with those you did befriend. If you choose the later start, some of those barriers and such will not be present when dealing with your previous friends, but you will have alienated or possibly even doomed any new friendships you have gained. Just a word of advice, but I think the outcome this time will be just as dependent upon your connections as your abilities, so I would select the early start. Some of the ones you called friends and family were undeserving of such an honor, and some of those you denied the honor through either ignorance or design were actually more deserving. Be that as it may, I will send you back. The items in question will be available to you, but you must uncover them quickly. They were not meant for discovery and would be disastrous if fallen into the wrong hands."

Heather leaned in and gave Harry a deep and passionate kiss, which took him completely by surprise, before smirking and saying, "I have been wanting to do that ever since I saw your file on my desk. Now with that final bit out of the way, it is time for a decision. So what is the choice, door number one or door number two?"

Harry shook off the cloud of lust that had begun addling his brain before coughing and speaking, "Since I have so little choice in the matter, I will choose the early route as you suggested."

Heather squealed in delight and bounced in place with a huge grin on her face, "Oh you are going to love this time around!" She snapped her fingers and Harry found himself navigating the strange tunnel from before as he lost track of his surroundings and drifted to sleep, darkness claiming his conscious mind.

AN: So here is chapter one of my saga. I hope it will not only be a better story, but hopefully my muse will not abandon me. Just FYI, this will be a harem fic, with all the usual perks. Please be kind and review. No flames though. I am into the opposite sex, and as my nomme de guerre implies, I will be the only one playing with fire during this fic.