The Master of Death looked at the young and battered child who was very skinny and dirty. The child's hair was matted, his clothes too thin and big and were covered in dirt, grim and blood. The child was soon to die very very soon

"A-are you my d-dad?" The child asked noticing the figure above him. The child was curled upon himself, and in pain but asked with a hope that the Master of Death knew very well. A hope that unfortunately didn't and won't come true for either of them in Life.

"No Harry... However, I can take you to him?" the Man who somehow fit inside the small dark cupboard said to the child in a soft voice. The child flinched without knowing as the Man came closer towards him.

"Does it h-hurt? Dying?" the child asked as his eyes slowly lost their focus on the Man. Wanting comfort from but was scared of pain

"No my dear, it is as quicker and easier than falling asleep"

"That's.. that's good... I don't wanna hurt anymore...." The child said as they took their last breath.

The Master of Death looked with a neutral expression - more sad than it should- but took the soul of 7-year-old Harry Potter from the cold cupboard where the police would find the rotting corpse of the child after a salesman noticed the smell and dark blood; to a place where the child will never be starved or beaten

The soul of the 7-year-old Harry Potter ran and ran as free as a bird toward his parents who looked both relieved and sad as they hugged their beloved son in the warm soft feeling of the ether. Harry didn't flinch as his father and mother touched him.

Harry Potter hugged his parents before perking up as if realizing something "Thank you mister!" He said looking bright and happy as a child should, his appearance was of a healthy loved young boy, his clothes fit his frame, and he was, and no longer be in pain nor fear.

"I am glad that you are happy..." The Man said before leaving the reunited family in peace to their eternal death.

---------

Harry Potter thought he was hallucinating. The first time he thought he saw his father was just own his time-traveled self during his third year. But now, being crucioed by a newly resurrected Voldemort to the inch of his life, he was sure that he is going insane seeing a Man that looked similar to him but no one but him noticed his presence. However, the pain of the Crucio curse by the Dark Lord himself was much too agonizing for Harry to think more of ituntil...until he could not feel the pain any longer and the world seem to dull into a grey hue. No sound, no movement from the summoned death eaters could be heard or seen.

"W-what? " Harry couldn't really move from his position on the ground, but somehow he could? But Harry had a feeling that Harry wasn't really moving as he moved his hands and head to look around but couldn't get up. Harry could move his body, but not stand "Did- Did you do this?" Harry asked the Man who Harry was sure was not his father but didn't know whom

"Yes... I did..." the Man replied

"Why?" Harry asked. The Man merely turned his head slowly toward the Dark Lord that looked as if he was seconds away from casting another spell - as the man finished turning his head, the world was back in bright colors, and the sounds of evil laughter became sharply pronounced, the feeling of the cold air as Harry heard it-

"Avada Kedabra !"

Harry closed his eyes - but as soon as the world came back to life, it stopped just as fast. Now Harry opened his eyes to see the bright- yet dull in the same dark hue of the world- green of the Killing Curse right at him but not touching him. It was mere centimeters from his chest.

"H-how?... Oh... Oh...oh..." he said his voice getting quieter with each word as he stared at the frozen killing curse and the appearance of the Man in dark robes not so dissimilar to what Muggles envisioned a Grim Reaper. Harry looked toward the man clothed in dark robes as if realizing something "Are you going to take me away now?"

The Master of Death, gave a small smile as if to reassure the 14-year-old teen of his upcoming fate "Yes Harry, I am. "

Harry didn't even falter when the Man said his name "Is there any reason why you stopped time?"

The Man was quiet. He didn't say a word nor did any of his facial expressions change. Only merely giving him the same reassuring smile that felt too sad to be happy. But Harry somehow knew that the man came here for him- he could feel it.

"I- I see... uh is Cedric ok?"

"His grandparents are hugging him half back to life"

"Was.. was that a pun? "

The man didn't answer. He slowly kneeled down and brushed a stray hair that was on Harry's face and tucked it behind his bloody ear. The hand reached Harry's cheek, and Harry flinched when the hand came into direct sight, but Harry who only had the cold ground and the pain of the crucio for Merlin knew how long leaned into the hand when there was no pain. Harry rubbed his cheek into the warm.. oh so warm hand as Harry looked into the eyes of the Man as he lay on his side

"Does... does it hurt? Dying?"

The Man rubbed his thumb on the boy's cheek and said with a soft smile that was more genuine "It is as quick and easy as falling asleep" He said, the warm hand still on Harry's cheek.

"Thats... Thats good... I'm glad Cedric wasn't in pain for his last moments..."

The Man hummed in response

What Harry Potter saw last in the living world full of pain and coldness was the green light of the Killing curse, the same shade as the Man who gave him comfort in his final moments 'Oh' Harry thought 'Thank you for making my final moments warm' Harry hoped the Man could hear him as it everything suddenly all went-- ...

The Master of Death watched as the teen move his arms around, twist his body and jump up and down as if he was surprised he wasn't in pain before running and running and running with such a huge smile on his face as he recognized his parents "Mom! Dad! I'm here! I'm so happy I can meet you!" he said in the soft warm world of the ether, finally at peace.

-----------

Harry Potter, a second year in Hogwarts, and only 12 year's old, could feel himself losing the strength in his body. The world became fuzzy as if someone took off his glasses, but of course, Harry could still feel it on his face.

"That blasted Pheonix!" Tom Riddle's memory raged. He cast a quick spell that made Fawkes cry out and burst into ashes. "How dare you!" Tom shouted as he glared at the corpse of the Phoenix and Basilisk

Harry while only had a minuscule education at Hogwarts and not knowing much about the matter of magic, however knew that the Diary should be destroyed. It was the magic in it that brought Tom Riddle out and it could bring Tom Riddle back in if it was destroyed.

The young teen felt dizzy. The fang, he thought, Harry had to stab it with the fang. It was the only thing on his mind as he looked at Tom Riddle who know was laughing maniacally. Harry made himself move his heavy arm and he plucked the tooth of the basilisk out of the other arm and sluggishly made his body crawl up to the diary sat next to Ginny.

Harry used all of his strength to stab the diary. Multiple times. And very soon the Memory of teenage Voldemort was no more. The wand Tom stole rolled back toward Harry as if wanted to be back in the hands of their proper owner

Harry let go of the fang as his arms used up all the remaining strength. His legs could no longer hold him up from the vertical knee position he had been holding as he stabbed the diary. But before Harry's face could pelt with the cold hard stone in the Chamber of Secrets a strong hand stopped his fall

Even though the rest of the world was getting blurry, Harry could see the Man very clearly. The man had the same untidy black hair as Harry, but his eyes were a brighter green. Harry knew that shade somewhere, but he didn't know exactly where. His mind began to remember a harsh laugh but before the memory could even start the cold feeling of dread, the Man in the dark robes brought Harry into a warm hug. The strong arms were holding Harry, and brought him towards the Man who felt so warm... Harry closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the hug. But Harry still could feel the venom of the thousand-year-old basilisk making him more and more tired

"Mister...? " Harry said his eyes half closed "Is Ginny...?" Harry couldn't finish his sentence but the Man understood and answered

"Dumbledore will come down soon and Ginny will be saved."

"T-that's.. good" Harry's voice came out more slurred and thick. Harry wanted to ask about Fawkes who helped him kill the basilisk but the Man's arms were so warm and he was so tired...(so lonely)

"Fawkes is fine as well. He may be a bit peeved that he had another burning so close to his last, but he will be fine"

'That's good' Harry thought 'It's... so warm... Mister, you are like a warm blanket...' Harry thought he was speaking but in actuality, he was speaking to the Man with his thoughts

"I'm glad I could be of service," The Master of Death said sincerely as he held the 12-year-old boy harder yet softer into his arms "That is the reason I am here after all, to make you comfortable"

'I think I'm falling asleep...' Harry thought as everything was getting all fuzzy and warm inside

"Sleep, Harry. Sleep" The Master of Death hushed the child rocking him slowly

'Sl-sleep... ok... thats... thats easy...'

"Yes, Harry, very easy..."

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, took his final breath as the venom finally won. The Master of Death held the body of young Harry Potter for a few minutes more as the body began to grow cold. The Man laid the child gently on the stone floor of the Chamber and looked toward the Holly wand that now seemed to dull as if it was in pain and sadness.

"Don't worry, he is now happily hugging his parents in the ether" The Man said to the wand. The wand seemed to understand but was sad that their chosen owner was no longer with the living.

When Dumbledore and the Aurors arrived, the still corpse of Harry Potter was clutching to his wand with a small smile on his face, the wand - which no one could remove was buried with the child.

Sometime after, another Auror put up a nameless small slab of stone in the graveyard on the island of Azkaban. Sirius Black who read the Daily Prophet of the Boy Who Lived's death committed suicide the very same day.

In the ether, Harry Potter was always smiling and running with a shaggy-haired dog and a deer next to a young happy red headed woman never to be lonely again

---------------

Harry Potter closed his eyes and turned the resurrection stone over in his hand three times. He knew it had happened because he heard slight movements around him that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, twig-strewn ground that marked the outer edge of the forest. He opened his eyes and looked around. They were neither ghosts nor truly flesh, he could see that. They resembled most closely the Riddle that had escaped from the diary so long ago, and he had been memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved toward him. And on each face, there was the same loving smile.

James was wearing the clothes in which he had died, his hair was untidy and ruffled, and his glasses were a little lopsided. Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger by far than Harry had seen him in life. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. Remus was younger too, and much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked happy to be back in this familiar place, the scene of so many adolescent wanderings. Lily's smile was the widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew closer to him, and her green eyes, so like his, searched his face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at him enough.

"You've been so brave." He could not speak. His eyes feasted on her, and he thought that he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.

"You are nearly there," said James. "Very close. We are . . . so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" The childish question had fallen from Harry's lips before he could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the forest lifted the hair at Harry's brow. He knew that they would not tell him to go, that it would have to be his decision.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Until the very end," said James.

"They won't be able to see you?" asked Harry.

"We are part of you," said Sirius. "Invisible to anyone else."

Harry looked at his mother. "Stay close to me," he said quietly.

And he set off.

The dementors' chill did not overcome him; he passed through it with his companions, and they acted like Patronuses to him, and together they marched through the old trees that grew closely together, their branches tangled, their roots gnarled and twisted underfoot. Harry clutched the Cloak tightly around him in the darkness, traveling deeper and deeper into the forest, with no idea where exactly Voldemort was, but sure that he would find him. Beside him, making scarcely a sound, walked James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily, and their presence was his courage and the reason he was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

His body and mind felt oddly disconnected now, his limbs working without conscious instruction, as if he were a passenger, not a driver, in the body he was about to leave. The dead who walked beside him through the forest was much more real to him now than the living back at the castle: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and all the others were the ones who felt like ghosts as he stumbled and slipped toward the end of his life, toward Voldemort . . .

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived"

Harry saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.

He lay facedown, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.

He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like a mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, were warm, very warm but not overwhelmingly so, merely simply there, a warm, fuzzy something on which to be.

He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing glasses anymore.

Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

He stood up, looking around. The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist. . . .

Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for Harry recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.

He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless, he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.

"You cannot help..." Harry spun around

A Man in dark robes was suddenly there

"Who are you?" Harry asked. But he was not afraid

The Man did not reply, instead the Man picked up what Harry now knew was the Horcrux. The last Horcrux to be destroyed. The Man seemed to stare at the Horcrux before the Horcrux vanished softly, and at that moment Harry knew it was now finally over.

"Where is this place?"

"Limbo" The Man answered

"Am I dead?" Harry asked.

"Right now... you are in between." The Man said turning toward a train that wasn't there before.

"So... I am not dead?" Harry asked confused

"Yes and no. Technically it depends on what you choose. You can choose to go toward the beyond thus you will be dead, or go back to life and live again. All you need to do is take the train as you think of what you want"

"That... that was a lot more straightforward of an answer than I thought I would get from - um you" Harry said a bit perplexed

The Man smiled "Well, I thought that you would like an honest answer"

Harry felt... respected for lack of a better description. All he ever got in his life was lies, half-truths, and cryptic answers. It was really nice that someone who knew more information than Harry gave a straightforward answer

"Who are you? Will you answer that now?" Harry asked testing his luck

"I am the Master of Death"

"Master of Death? So it's true?" asked Harry. "All of it? The Peverell brothers -"

"- the three brothers of the tale, are all true" said the Master of Death, nodding.

"Does that mean-?"

"-Yes, the spirits are your real parents. But then agaun as you know, they were mere shades. The dead that has passed on, do not belong in the plain of life " The Man said

"What... well why are you?.. "

"Here?" The Man finished for Harry. The Man looked like he was thinking to a memory "To make your last moments filled with peace.."

"Peace?... Well this place is very peaceful" Harry said

The Man smiled, "Thank you, I made it that way.. At first it was very cold. But really, I am here so that you Harry Potter will be at peace, no matter what you choose- life or death. Harry; you always wanted a straight answer, yet no one had given it to you. I will give you all the answers you wish. "

Harry's eyes seem to widen "Wait, does that mean that I can ask anything? And you will answer me with-"

"No half-truths, no lies, and no cryptic answers," The Master of Death said with a smile that held another meaning

Harry seemed to not believe it "Really? How would I know that your answers are the truth?"

The Man didn't lose his smile but seemed to age a bit "Well, I could swear an oath? But honestly, that doesn't work as well as people believe, or else of course people would use that way more often "

Harry huffed "Of course.. "

There was a comfortable silence as Harry thought for a moment "Did... " The Man perked up at his question "Did Dumbledore love me?"

The Man's eyes grew soft "Yes" he said simply

Harry's voice rose as he spoke "Then why did he never tell me the truth? Why did he raise me as a pig for slaughter?! Why didn't let anyone else help or even train me? Why.... didn't he... Why ?" And at the last why, Harry's voice went quiet

"Dumbledore loved you. He loved you like a grandson. He didn't want you to lose your innocence yet, he wished that you would lose your innocence so that you would not be blinded behind the rose-tinted lenses. He was arrogant, and he never thought to think of an option that escaped his Greater Good, yet he always thought himself not all knowing. Dumbledore is an old man who went through a lot. So really, all I can say is that... I am not trying to defend him, but he had his own reasons. Thus, you would have to get the answers out of himself for you to get his side of the story"

Harry who looked conflicted snorted at the last sentence and huffed "As if that old coot will tell me the truth even if he were drugged with Veritaserum" the Man gave a soft laugh of his own

"I guess so, but if you wish I can bring Grindelwald as a 'Dumbledore Translator;, he and Aberforth were really the only ones able to see Dumbledore andf knock him off his high horse"

Harry let out a surprised laugh "I think... I think I would enjoy watching that... But enough of that- I really do have a lot of questions"

The Man looked softly at Harry "I know, must have been pent-up after living with the Dursleys and all the things during Hogwarts"

"You know what? Yeah, I'm gonna ask all the darn things that nobody told me. Can you tell the future though?"

The Man chuckled "No Harry I can't tell you the future, I may have a better guess than most, but no, the future is never set in stone. But just like a person can guess if the cloud is grey then it's going to rain, I can do that, but better, like a weather forecast"

"Ha, as if those are right 100 percent of the time. Ah, I see now, ok ok I'll just ask questions that you can answer me like Hermione" And so Harry asked all the questions to his heart's content and the Man gave answers that Harry could understand

A long time later, or not at all, in the Limbo where Harry would have to choose Harry asked the question he forgot to ask the first time "You never really did answer me the first time though"

"Well technically, I am the Master of Death."

"Yes, I do know that... but after talking with you... it feels like I am talking to someone very familiar, like- like- "

The Master of Death's smile finally fell off his face "Like talking to yourself..."

Harry came to a realization as he connected the dots "You... you are... me"

Harry Potter - The Master of Death shook his head "Not quite, I am you, but I am a different you. "

"Different?"

"Yes, different. I... well, am a different universe Harry Potter you might say"

"A different universe ... Does... does that mean you are dead?" And the Master of Death Harry nodded "What...well why are you, and-"

"Why am I the Master of Death, yet you seem to not be?"

"Yes, I am curious"

The Master of Death Harry looked pensive " When I died... I was very cold. All my life... All I wanted was peace. Yet even while I was heading toward death... I was never at peace... I had questions, I was scared, I- I wanted to be warm. However, as I died. I was holding all three of the Hallows at the same time, all covered in my blood.... After that I met Death, and I chose to take the mantle of MoD"

Harry Potter, who still had to choose between life and death looked at his counterpart "Why did you take the mantle?"

The Man gave a smile "So that no Harry Potter will have a cold death, alone, in pain, in sadness, rage, and despair. To give the comfort an adult can give without fearing pain, to be the warm hand that caresses you when you are scared, to give a warm hug when you are lonely, and to give the answers they so very deserve. To give peace. Just like your family assured you, I wanted to tell them that death was as-

"- Quicker and easier than falling asleep.." Harry Potter finished instead of the Master of Death

"Yes... Quicker and easier than falling asleep..." The Master of Death said wistfully

"Will... Will I get peace if I move on? " Harry Potter asked timidly

The Man suddenly hugged Harry, he didn't move fast but was swifter than the wind "Yes. Very much so"

And Harry began to cry, cry and cry "T-The world... The- the world never gave me peace even- even the so called Light side never believed me... I- I want to have peace now... please" Harry cried into the shoulder of the Man "N-no l-lies or prophecies- " The Man hushed the crying Harry Potter, who gave up his life to save the wizarding world of that universe

Harry Potter, a young barely adult wizard not even in his 20s, took the train to his parents... To the ether, where he was flying and flying with no lies or prophecies. Where Harry laughed with Sirius, played Quidditch with Cedric, and was with everyone he loved.

The Master of Death was watching all that unfold as another being with a dark robe melted out from the dark and turned tangible. The being was wearing its hood up, but inside was only darkness no light.

"Are you satisfied Master" The being asked. Their voice is both male and female.

The Master of Death hummed a sad tone as they both saw the dead corpse of Harry Potter being thrown about and shown to the Light faction by the Dark faction in the living world. That world's Neville will still slay the snake, but Harry Potter will not come back to life

"Why, do you think that Harry Potter's only gets peace in death? " the Man asked Death

"Greeting death with open arms... isn't that what you wanted Master? Peace?"

The Man looked sullen "Yes.... I do.. I still do... But are all of us doomed to want death? You saw how all the children didn't even want or try to want to live" he said sadly

Death answered "There is no Death without Life and no Life without Death. But maybe, now that you have seen the Death of Life, maybe Master would want to see and appreciate the Life of Death. "

"Life of Death? What on Earth does that mean?"

"All living things go towards life everyday, maybe Master, you can help a Harry Potter that wishes to live"

The Master of Death smiled at Death "Of course my dear friend. But I will still try to bring peace to all Harry Potter's that with death"

Death seem to smile- while no face was seen the Man knew his dear friend was smiling at him.

In no time, the two being's faded out of sight.

Fin

-----------

"Does it hurt? Dying?"

"No my dear, it is as quick and easy as falling asleep"

"That.. that doesn't sound bad... But.. but mister. I-I want to l-live. I want to live...Please mister, I want to live"