Harry woke up and immediately felt the need to shield his eyes. He didn't know where he was, but everything was white. The walls, the floor, and even the sky, everything seemed to glow, so there were no shadows. Harry gave his eyes a few moments to adjust, and then he looked around again. He was in what looked to be a waiting room. There were seats all around and a desk with a bored-looking woman sitting at it, obviously a receptionist.
Remembering that he had just been hit with a killing curse, Harry came to the obvious conclusion. He was dead, and this was some limbo-type place where he was about to be assessed to see what would happen with his soul. Harry looked around, expecting to see a bunch of other people waiting on their judgement as well; after all, there were so many people on Earth that someone probably died every second. However, except for him and the receptionist, the room was empty. Harry had hoped to see at least Voldemort there, to know he had saved everyone from him, but unfortunately it looked like he failed.
Harry felt a bit nervous. He considered himself a good person, but he had killed Quirrel and had tried to kill Voldemort right before he died. Harry wasn't sure what would count against him in his judgement, but he was pretty sure killing people was considered bad. Still, too late to worry about that now. All that was left was to face the music. He got to his feet and made his way over to the receptionist. He was just about to introduce himself when she started speaking in a bored tone. "Welcome to the unusual cases department Mr. Potter, a representative will be here to speak with you shortly and discuss your options going forward. Please be seated until then."
Harry was taken aback by the woman already knowing his name but it was nothing to how much anxiety he was feeling at hearing he was in a department for unusual cases. Did that mean magical? Was that why he was the only person here? But he had just been in the middle of a battle, he couldn't be the only casualty. Had he done something so terrible that his afterlife required more than the usual level of punishment?
"You're not in trouble Mr. Potter, that's a completely different department, unusual means just simply that, unusual. I'm not privy to the details, but the majority of people who come through this department leave happy once their issues are cleared up," the receptionist said, easing Harry's worry.
"How did you know what I was going to ask?" Harry asked. "Were you reading my mind?"
The woman snorted. "Mr. Potter, you're hardly the first to come through here, and you wouldn't be the last to have the exact same worries. It was nothing more than experience. Now please sit down."
Harry did as he was asked. He didn't know how long he waited. It could have been five seconds or five years, time didn't seem to have any meaning here when he wasn't doing anything. But eventually Harry's name was called, and he looked up and froze as his parents were standing in a doorway he hadn't noticed before.
"Mum? Dad?" Harry couldn't help himself, he sprinted across the room and pulled the two of them into a hug. It was emotional, with all three of them crying as they clung to each other, refusing to even consider letting go. His parents were constantly telling him how proud they were of him, how he had been doing an amazing job considering everything that life had thrown at him.
While he was hugging his parents, the three of them were led to another room by a tall man in a black suit that Harry hadn't seen before. The three of them sat on a sofa together, with Harry in the middle sandwiched by his two parents. Neither of which seemed to miss a second of hugging or even just having an arm around him or holding his hand, like they were trying to squeeze every hug, helping hand, and pat on the back they had missed since that Halloween into as small a time as possible.
The tall man settled into an office chair behind a desk that Harry was sure wasn't there when they entered the room. "Well Mr. Potter, I have been going over your file and I can see why you are a special case. You have some of the craziest luck I have ever seen. However, due to an extremely unusual set of circumstances and an incredibly small window of opportunity, you actually have the option to go back to the mortal world," The man said, shocking Harry.
"But how? I was hit by the Killing Curse!" Harry asked, genuinely perplexed.
"When Riddle took your blood for his ritual, he took a part of you into himself. Your magic, and thus part of your life force, live in his body, shielded from the effects of the curse he attacked you with. While a part of you lives, then you can't really come fully into this realm. This is not uncommon; since the people of your world started harvesting viable organs from dead people and putting them in others, this has happened quite a lot. It's not a bad thing as it helps a lot of people, but it's why we have this department. Normally this is just a period of waiting in an in-between place for the dying soul while they wait for the rest of them to die. They can't go back, because there is no viable body for them to go back to. You, however, were killed by the killing curse, which means your body is whole and intact, and ready for you to go back.
"Your other saving grace is that the killing curse is instantaneous, so you were dead the instant your body was hit by that curse. Your curse, however, was not so merciful. Tom Riddle is dying, but incredibly slowly by comparison over a few seconds. This means there is a window of time where you are both alive and dead at the same time. Add in that the higher ups are happy with you for delivering two fractured parts of Tom Riddle's overdue soul, and you get a choice: you can stay here and move on, or you can go back," The tall man explained.
Harry was overwhelmed by the information. He had an opportunity to go back, but he had to choose between his parents in the afterlife or Hermione, Ron, Grandfather Charlus, and Sirius in…what had the man called it? The mortal world? One bit of information stuck out to Harry though. "You said the window was only a few seconds. I have been here at least an hour."
"Time is a fundamental part of mortality, it's an illusion based on the limitations of perspective, one you are still mentally clinging to because of your familiarity with the concept. In truth, time has no meaning here. When you stay here, whether it's now or after you go back, you will eventually let go of your concept of time as well. But for now it is sufficient to say that the 'time' you spend here doesn't matter."
"You, young man, are going back." Harry was a little surprised to hear his mother saying that. When he turned to look at her, she must have seen the hurt in his eyes because she pulled him into a hug. "Harry, your father and I will be waiting here for you if you live another five minutes or five hundred years, but you only get one life, and there are things you can only experience while you live. Go and experience them. Live a life, get married, have children, grow old, go back and live, then come back here and tell your father and I all about it."
And Harry understood time no longer had any meaning to his parents, so in five minutes or five hundred years they would be right here and waiting for him when he got back, no different than if he had just popped away to use the facilities. "I'll go back," Harry said. While he was sad he would be leaving his parents, he knew he was always going to choose to go back. Hermione was waiting for him for a start, and that alone was enough of a reason to go back. "At least Voldemort has been dealt with."
"About that. I'm afraid that Voldemort is still very much alive," said the tall man. "Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, has used magic to corrupt the nature of his soul. He has broken it into eight parts, one main soul supported by seven fragments. You have already destroyed two, one was in the diary you encountered during your second year at Hogwarts."
"And the way you handled that snake was fantastic, kiddo," interrupted Harry's dad, only to be told off by his mother of interrupting.
"As I was saying, the first was in the diary you destroyed, and the second was in your scar. To kill him permanently, you must first destroy the other five anchors." The tall man looked apologetic.
"What are they and where are they?" Harry asked. He had every intention of telling his grandfather and godfather and hoping they could deal with it.
"Part of the magic involved includes hiding the container from death, so we have no clue where they are. We could track you because you were never meant to be a Horcrux, a soul fragment, but a shard of Voldemort's soul stuck to you when his body was destroyed that Halloween. In short, a lot of the preparatory spells and magic were never cast on you, but they were on the other Horcruxes, so we can only tell you what the vessels are because we know what we can no longer see. As to where they are, we don't know. Most are historical relics of the Founders of the magical school. There is a locket that was once the property of Salazar Slytherin, an ornate chalice that was made by Helga Hufflepuff, and a tiara that was enchanted by Rowena Ravenclaw. Then there is a ring that is legally yours and his familiar, a magical snake."
"Wait, what do you mean a ring that is mine?" Harry asked.
"I will leave that for you father to explain once we are done here. All five items will need to be destroyed before Tom can pass on to this world. For the three relics, I recommend you check the book your girlfriend is always trying to get you to read, there are illustrations of the items in there. There are also artistic depictions of each of the items around that school of yours. You will need to find where they are hidden, but once you do you need to destroy them. To do that, I recommend using the sword of Gryffindor. It absorbed a lot of basilisk venom when you killed the beast-"
"Still say that was bloody awesome," Harry's dad interrupted again, causing Harry to smile.
"The venom itself is excessively dangerous, and I'm not sure the goblins you hired would let you have any back without the correct licences. Fiendfyre will also work, but again it's incredibly dangerous, and then there is a potion that can destroy them as well but one of the ingredients is almost impossible to find."
"I doubt the new headmaster is going to let me borrow a dangerous sword that's a thousand year old antique," Harry complained.
"Figure it out, he owes you a debt. Collect it on your own if you have to. Anyway, that's all the information I have for you. Once you are finished talking with your parents, there is a hallway to the right of this office you should take. On the left hand side there is a door labelled 'Returns', go through there and you will wake up back in your body."
"What happens if my parents were to walk through that door?" Harry asked with a mix of curiosity and hope.
"They cease to exist. New souls can go back, either like you or as ghosts, but souls that experience too much of this place become too complex to go back and are destroyed if they try, leaving a blank soul to be born into a new life. There is no way for you to take your parents back with you." With that said, the tall man stood up, the desk and office chair vanished and he walked out of the room, leaving Harry and his parents alone.
There were a few moments of silence, nobody knowing what to say, but then James broke the silence. "The way you killed that snake was the most badass thing I have ever seen."
"Admit it James, you were panicking worse than when I went into labour. He almost died!" Lily sounded more exasperated than angry. "You were terrified as we watched, blubbering about what was going to happen to your little boy."
"Yeah but Lils, he didn't die. So retroactively it becomes an amazing feat worthy of any Gryffindor," James grinned at his wife.
"You were watching me?" Harry asked, not sure how to feel about that.
"Of course we were watching, pumpkin," Lily said. "We love you, and even if all we can do is cheer you on from this side, you have all the support we can give you. My parents and your grandma Dorea are watching too, all cheering for you."
"Yeah, Mum has a message she wants you to deliver to Dad for her. She would be here to meet you as well, but only two were allowed and neither I nor your mother were going to let it be anyone but us. Please tell him she loves him and really wants to see him again, but he needs to quit his self pity and moping. Live his life, enjoy it to the fullest, and she will be waiting for him when he gets here. And, if he gets here too early, he knows what he is in for. Can you remember that?" James asked Harry.
Harry nodded and said he could. "But what will Grandma do to Grandfather if he gets here early?" Harry asked.
"Kid, there are some questions you don't ask your parents. And that's one I never want to ask my mother or ever find the answer to. You're welcome to ask her when you meet her or you can ask Dad, but if you do, the psychological trauma is your own fault," James said seriously.
"However, I think the main reason we are being given time is so I can tell you about our family legacy. I know Dad told you about the origin of your cloak and of the Deathly Hallows, and how two of them are lost to history after their creators died. Well, magically the ownership of those two items passed to the youngest brother, as the other two didn't have any children. The eldest was sterile due to a duelling injury, while the middle lost his wife and child in childbirth. But we know that the wand was stolen again and again throughout history, and now Dumbledore has it. He won it from Grindelwald at the end of World War II.
"The other, a stone, was found by Salazar Slytherin's grandfather, and he set the stone in a ring and used it as a Head of House ring. That was the source of the Slytherin cunning, they always seemed to know things that other people couldn't know. That was because he was calling the souls back from the dead to ask them questions. That ring got passed down the family line until eventually they forgot what it did, probably because a father died before telling his son or a cousin killed off the head of the family and had no idea about the ring's magic," James explained to his son.
"So if I can get the ring, I could talk to you again?" Asked Harry.
Harry's mother took his hand and spoke to him seriously. "Yes, but there is a massive but. Having our soul drawn back will start to fray the growth we made here. Having our perception forced back into something like that of the living hurts. And the longer we are there, the more it hurts, the more we are… diminished. If you really need to call us to answer a question, don't hesitate, we will recover once we return and your father and I would gladly suffer that to help you. But the world of the living and the world of the dead cannot mix for long. While you're alive, focus on the now, focus on the future. Leave the past for when you rejoin us."
"Your mother is right. If you have an important question you need answered then definitely call, just try to keep it quick. Now, there is a story that says if you unite all three of the Hallows then you become the Master of Death. It's a pile of dragon shit. The three items are three powerful tools, use them if you can as they will help you win, but keep perspective that you are still a man. Powerful tools don't change that."
The three of them sat there for what to Harry felt like a few hours. Harry's father finished telling him about the Hallows quite quickly and after that it was on to other topics. Harry talked about flying and Quidditch with his dad, he talked about relationships and Hermione with his mom. His dad taught Harry a few fun prank spells and encouraged him to try them on his godfather. His mother taught him a few recipes that were passed down her family. His father gave Harry advice about girls, his mother told him to ignore all of it if he wanted things to last with Hermione.
By the time they had finished, Harry knew his parents better than he ever thought possible. It was an emotional parting for the three of them, but Harry had to get back to life now or he was going to sit with his parents for years until he couldn't go back any more. He followed the tall man's directions and found the door marked 'Returns'. It was just a plain office door, for something so important it just looked dull. Harry opened the door and found a pitch black void inside. He looked closely, trying to see if there was anything, but it was like an empty universe. "Well, Gryffindors charge forward," he said to himself, then stepped through the doorway.
-ϟϟϟ-
Charlus was fighting his way towards Harry. He was determined to get to his boy and get him out of here. He stunned one Death Eater and had to dodge the spells of another, but despite his old legs he was making progress. He was just thinking that they could do this when he saw Harry fall.
His heart left into his throat as he watched, unable to stop Voldemort as he walked towards the fallen Harry and raised his wand. Two spells were fired and both met their mark. He watched Voldemort fall, twitching as the electricity of Harry's spell sent him crashing to the floor while his own spell ripped the life from Harry's body.
"HARRY!"
The scream ripped from Charlus's mouth, the raw pain and anguish impossible to miss. 'It can't be true' the thought echoed in Charlus's head. He completely forgot the limitations age had placed on his legs and started to power walk the remaining distance to Harry. A few Death Eaters tried to stop him, but Charlus's own spells were now lethal. One unlucky Death Eater took a Bombarda to the chest and quite literally exploded, while another got to experience looking up at his own body as another of Charlus's spells separated his head from his neck.
Charlus crossed what was left of the battlefield in seconds and collapsed to his knees next to Harry. He pulled Harry to him, rocking his head against his chest just repeatedly saying "no. No. No, not little Harry too. Please not Harry." Tears quickly obscured his vision.
A part of him knew that kneeling and sobbing in the middle of a battlefield wasn't a good idea but he couldn't care.
"Ow..." said a voice from his arms.
"Harry?" Charlus demanded, wiping at his eyes with one hand trying to clear his vision, the other clutching harry closer to him. "Harry is that you?"
"Ow," repeated the voice.
That was definitely Harry's voice. Charlus felt relief flood through him. "Harry, are you okay?" Charlus was desperate as he demanded an answer.
"Ow!" repeated Harry for the third time. "Arm, hurting!"
It was only then that Charlus realised he was gripping Harry's arm tightly. He loosened his grip and looked; his hand was red, covered in blood. Harry's blood. Harry also had blood seeping into his robes from his chest.
Charlus cast a quick Feather-Light Charm on Harry, then he picked up his grandson in a bridal carry and started running. Luckily for Charlus, the few remaining Death Eaters were either completely outnumbered or were too busy running away themselves to worry about them. As he ran, Charlus kept repeating the activation phase for the portkey the D.M.L.E had given him, and the second the two of them crossed out of the anti-portkey wards they vanished.
-ϟϟϟ-
For Hermione, the waiting was unbearable. It hadn't even been twenty minutes since they all left and she was already going crazy, pacing back and forth in the D.M.L.E. bullpen. A clerk had tried to offer Hermione a chair, but she had snapped at the young witch. A part of her knew she owed the woman an apology, she was just trying to help and didn't deserve Hermione's less than civil response. Unfortunately, at the moment, when two people she cared for had their lives on the line, she just couldn't bring herself to care.
Then there was a sudden rush of wind, and Uncle Charlus appeared from nowhere, carrying Harry. For a split second Hermione feared the worst, but almost immediately Harry put an arm over his stomach and muttered, "God I hate portkeys. At least Junior had the decency to stun me first."
Hermione rushed over, but she wasn't the only one. The D.M.L.E. kept a trained healer on standby when they were conducting large operations. So after seeing what looked to be an injured teenager, he rushed forward to help. Then there was the head of the aurors, Auror Scrimgeour; he saw Charlus as a source of intelligence on what was happening on the other side of the country.
"Lay the boy down," ordered the healer.
"Tell me what's happening out there," demanded Scrimgeour at the same time.
Charlus set Harry down but started speaking. "We were too late to stop the restoration. When we arrived, he already had a full body again and had called a number of Death Eaters. We set up…" Hermione tuned out the men as they walked away a little. She knelt next to Harry, taking a hold of his hand. "My arm and my chest are the worst," Harry told the healer, who just nodded and used a Switching spell to remove Harry's outer robes and his undershirt. Hermione was happy to see that, like most muggleborn guys, Harry was wearing something under his robes. Normally he wore trousers, but in a concession to the summer heat he had switched to a pair of shorts.
What Hermione was a lot less happy to see was the lightning bolt laceration on Harry's chest over his heart, exactly the same as the scar on his forehead. Hermione's mind raced, trying to think of other possibilities, but the only conclusion she could come up with was that the lightning mark was the sign of surviving the Killing Curse. And Harry now had a second one, one she knew hadn't been there a few days ago when she had pulled Harry into a broom cupboard and the two of them had ended up topless. That meant Harry had been hit with the Killing Curse again, that her Harry had almost died again. Worse, it had happened while she stood around doing nothing.
While Hermione was thinking that, the healer got to work healing Harry as best he could. He started to sing a wordless melody as he waved his wand slowly over the wound on Harry's chest. The cut slowly started to stitch closed, except unlike most magical healing it left Harry with a scar on his chest, a telltale sign of dark magic.
"Hermione, I got him. I got Voldemort. My robes, important… in my robes." Harry said as he gripped her hand tighter before he collapsed, unconscious from the extreme exertion he had put himself under.
The healer did a little more work on Harry, making sure he was stable, then turned to Hermione. "I think he will be fine, but I will be much happier if he gets a full checkup in St. Mungo's, they can perform much deeper checks there than I can here with just a wand."
"Prep the parchment work and portkey. I will inform Warlock Potter and I will take Harry myself. I assume after such a large operation your skills will be needed here," Hermione said, her logical side pushing aside the screaming little girl for now. There would be time to cry everything out later.
The healer began waving his wand over a piece of parchment and words quickly started to appear on it, presumably important information for the healers at St. Mungo's. Hermione got up and strode over to where Uncle Charlus was talking with the head Auror.
"...a small number of Auror bodies on the ground. I don't know how many were alive and unconscious, but they weren't throwing stunners at us," Charlus was saying.
Hermione interrupted. "Uncle Charlus, the healer thinks Harry will be okay but is sending him to St. Mungo's to get a full check over. I am going with him, I will see you there when you're done here. And someone has to tell Sirius, Ron, and the school that Harry is okay."
Charlus looked tired and conflicted. It was obvious that his responsibility to Harry was warring with his responsibility to clean up the mess this had all become. He almost looked like he was giving up as he said, "I'll deal with all that Hermione, you take care of Harry for me, will you? Scrimgeour, can you spare Harry a guard?"
The Auror nodded and called over one of the junior law enforcement wizards and told the man, who didn't even look like he was twenty yet, that he was on protective custody duty until he was relieved. Hermione gathered up Harry's robes because there was something important about them to Harry, and she and the law enforcement wizard joined the healer waiting for them with a portkey.
-ϟϟϟ-
It was hours later that Charlus, Sirius, and Ron all walked into Harry's room at St. Mungo's. Hermione was still sitting with him and he was still unconscious. Sirius asked Hermione what the healers had said. "They won't tell me much, I'm not Harry's guardian, but from what I read on his chart Harry is mostly just exhausted. It looks like he used up all his magic in some type of all-or-nothing strike and just needs to rest. He has a new scar on his chest that's tainted with enough dark magic that it's permanent, but there doesn't seem to be any concern about it. What happened out there?" Hermione asked Charlus, finally able to get some answers herself.
Charlus told them all everything he had seen, including how he saw Harry had been hit with the Killing Curse, only to find Harry alive and Voldemort dead from getting hit with Harry's full force lightning curse directly to the chest. There were four Aurors dead and six more needed at least a week of medical care, but eight Death Eaters were dead and seven more had been captured, including Pettigrew and Malfoy.
It was Ron who summed it up. "So despite everything it's a win, right? Harry's alive and fine, You-Know-Who is either dead or without a body again, and a lot of his escaped Death Eaters are either dead or are about to be locked up in Azkaban. It's unfortunate that some of the Aurors died, but it's still a win, right?"
"Yeah. Just don't ask me to throw a party until Harry is back on his feet," Hermione said.