Chapter 1

The desert stretched endlessly before him, a sea of scorched dunes shimmering beneath a merciless sun. Harry staggered forward, each step dragging as though the sand, oh, how he wanted it to swallow him whole, but fate was unkind to him. His lips were cracked, his tongue rough and swollen, and his skin clung to his bones. He should have died years ago, but even that had abandoned him.

He muttered to himself, fragments of conversations that no one remained to hear. Sometimes he spoke to the wind, now his only companion. Sometimes, faces long gone haunted him. He looked up towards the blazing sun and then at the desert stretched before him, housing the remnants of skyscrapers like a massive graveyard.

"Buried you proper, didn't I?" he croaked to no one in particular, his voice cracking. "Not like the others. Not like the ones the bombs took. You got a grave. You got words." He laughed, a hollow sound.

Sand and silence answered back.

The desert had no end. Harry knew this, yet still his feet dragged through the sand. He muttered nonsense to himself, half delirious, half defiant.

A figure stood ahead, cloaked in black. Harry blinked, rubbed his eyes with cracked fingers, but the figure remained.

"Not another mirage," he groaned.

"Harry Potter," the cloaked figure uttered when Harry finally reached him. It was only then that some shock made its way to Harry's face as he noticed that the figure was floating. Then he looked up, and his breath hitched as a skeleton stared back at him.

"No," Harry hissed.

The figure inclined its head. "You know me, Harry Potter."

Harry laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant laugh. It held a hint of manic in it. "I've known you all my life. You've taken everyone else. Everyone but me."

Death floated closer. "You carry the Hallows. You are my Master, though you never asked to be."

Harry's knees nearly buckled. "Master? I'm nothing. Just bones wrapped in skin. I buried the last of them yesterday. I begged you to take me too."

"You cannot die," Death said simply. "Not while the Hallows bind you."

"I have come with a proposal, but for that, I need you to endure."

Harry's laugh was bitter. "Endure. That's all I've ever done!" He tried to shout, but his hoarse voice would not let him. "I've endured the Potters. Endured the war! Endured the bombs! And now I endure the endless sand."

"What is your proposal? Speak before another hallucination catches my attention." Harry uttered, already beginning to walk again. Death followed.

"Where are you going? There is nobody left. This I can confirm." Death stated.

"Walking is mildly more entertaining than the other option." Harry retorted. "Your proposal?"

"Relocation," Death stated. "To a reality where you are already deceased. The war never happened there, or at least not yet. The future can be a fickle thing. Only my eldest sister really knows."

"You will receive the memories of your counterpart up until the moment he died." Death continued. Harry stopped walking and looked at the entity with a raised brow.

"And what would I have to give you in return?" Harry asked. "You aren't offering this out of the kindness of your heart; otherwise, you would have done it when the first nuke fell. You need something from me."

"Very astute. There is something in that reality. It is called Cronos's shard. The artifact is something that is not supposed to exist in these realms."

"What does it do?" Harry asked with genuine interest.

"From what I know, it has the ability to warp Reality and Time once. At least to a certain degree. It was also implied that the shard could speed up Lady Magic's recovery."

"Recovery?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with." Death stated. "But getting the shard is of immense importance. It has been implied that the power of that artifact could turn that reality into something similar to this world."

Harry flinched, though Death did not know why. "Are you sure you have the right person?"

"Yes, you are considered the Master of Death in multiple realities. I am quite sure." Mortem deadpanned.

"But I don't even know how to read!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Death questioned.

"Don't these dangerous artifacts usually come with warning labels?"

"You would think..." Death sighed. "Look, do we have a deal or do we not?"

"This world you are going to send me to. How similar to this one is it?" Harry then asked as he looked at the outstretched skeletal hand, but did not take it.

"It is slightly similar up to your 7th birthday." Death stated. "That's where the reality truly branched off."

"I don't quite understand that, but... all this can be prevented?"

"I am not my sister. I cannot promise that."

"I can agree to your terms; however, I would like to modify our deal slightly," Harry stated as he started to unbuckle his armor.

"What are you doing?!" Death asked. "I only ship Snarry! I can't satisfy you!"

Harry stopped at the second button of a dusty and tattered shirt and looked up questioningly at the floating entity. "What? Wait... what is Snarry?!"

"Never mind that. What are you doing?!"

"Showing you why I want to amend our deal," Harry said as he continued unbuttoning his shirt.

"I might be skin and bones, but that does not mean I am attracte-Wait... WHAT IS THAT?!" Death uttered as he stared at his Master's chest.

"Will this make it worth your while to amend your deal?"

"Yes," Death said without hesitation. "What exactly do you want?"