A New Flighty Temptress

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Summary: In the train station between his life and his death, Harry Potter makes a decision: To move on, that he has done enough. In doing so, he finds himself in a brand new world with a mostly new body. A new start, a gift from the powers that be. But while fate has no intention to call on him again, it is not in Harry's nature to have a boring life. Powerful, Isekai, Elf-Harry, Harem.

Harry James Potter stood in a pristine, ethereal, all-white version of King's Cross. He looked back, towards where he had first appeared: the bench where the twisted fraction of Voldemort's soul laid. There was no visible way "back" to the living world, but it felt like it was in that direction. Objectively, he knew he should go back, he should feel the need to; to finish this decade's long nightmare that had plagued the wizarding world, to see the end of this tale that had been weaved between himself and Voldemort. To make sure his friends survived, to finally have a life outside of this insanity, to fall in love and have a family.

And yet, there was no pull. There was a strange contentment about him instead. Like a deep knowing that he had done enough, that they could see through the rest without him.

The Wizarding World was a wonderful place. And the Muggle one wasn't too bad either. But there was too much baggage, too many regrets and loved ones lost with too few gained. And it would still be a long time after Voldemort that peace truly took hold.

There was a tap echoing in the world, prompting him to turn. He was neither alarmed nor scared by the figured shrouded in a black cloak and wielding a scythe. Instead, Harry smiled like it was an old friend.

With a slow gesture of the scythe, Death motioned to the rails as a spectral train appeared, with its horns blaring in preparation to depart.

Harry looked down and nodded to himself before looking back where he had come from. "Thank you, for everything," he said to the life he had lived.

With a tired sigh, feeling as if all the troubles of his short life had finally fallen from his shoulders, he walked to Death. He paused only once, to glance back. Not at his life, but at his curse, the shard of the Dark Lord. "You sure you won't need my help when he gets here?" Harry asked, half-joking and half-serious.

He couldn't see the face of Death beneath the shadows, but Harry believed there was a smile. With a nod of assurance from Death, Harry climbed the stairs of the station and walked into the train. His tiredness only grew, making him grateful for the seat in the otherwise empty compartment.

He shed a tear as he felt the train rumble and begin to move. His vision blurred, as he suddenly began feeling very distant and far away.

He saw Voldemort presenting his dead body to his enemies in the ruined courtyard of Hogwarts.

He watched as Neville Longbottom took up Godric's Sword and rallied the spirits of those that were still left to fight.

He cheered as he witnessed Molly Weasley slay Bellatrix Lestrange.

He grew silent with dread when Nagini had Ron and Hermione cornered.

He cursed in awed amazement when it was Draco Malfoy of all people that came forth to slay the Snake with a Killing Curse. How it worked for Malfoy when Ron's failed, Harry didn't care to theorize.

He felt peace when, through the combined efforts of several students and McGonagall, Neville stabbed Voldemort through the back.

Finally, there was just a bit of vindictive delight as he heard Voldemort's scream echo in his ear. Not at dying, but when he arrived to his long overdue meeting with Death.

Harry Potter took a deep breath as he opened his eyes a new man.

Literally.

He blinked in astonishment as he realized he was not on a train anymore. Feeling soft grass beneath his hands, he saw that he sat on the ground of a forest. He looked upwards, watching the leaves dancing in the breeze, the birds flying about, and felt the sun peeking through the canopy to touch his face.

He was alive.

But he didn't feel like...himself, exactly.

He rose, pushing his back against a tree to steady his legs. He nearly fell over as he saw his clothes: brown leather armor on his limbs and torso, a green shirt and pants below that and sturdy boots to top it all off. A bit too Slytherin in color for his taste, but some rational part of his brain knew it was good for not sticking out in a forest.

Seeing a pond nearby, he felt the urge to move towards it, to see just who would look back from his reflection. Looking into the clear water, he was surprised by how much he did and didn't recognize himself.

He was still Harry Potter, obviously; the same green eyes and the untamable dark hair. But much had changed. He was a couple years older, maybe more, and his face was more defined, more-well, to be blunt, handsome. The hair was a bit longer, but he was a bit relieved to realize he didn't require glasses anymore.

But the true attention grabber was the pointed ears.

He scowled, touching them cautiously. Fingers touching the tips made it all feel so real. He was alive, again…albeit, somewhere else as someone else…something else.

No more Voldemort, Dursleys, Death Eaters, or being remembered for surviving his parents' deaths.

Oh, and of course, no more scar on his forehead.

He burst into a mad laugh, a laugh containing both mirth and sorrow. Sorrow for friends he would never see again in this life and mirth for finally washing his hands of everything else. Come what may, he would make the most of this boon.

His laughter, echoing through the forest, died off as he regained his senses with a few giggles.

Reality hit him almost immediately.

"Where the bloody hell do I go now?" he wondered, realizing suddenly how utterly lost he was right now. He had no money, no supplies, no wand, and no idea where the nearest town was.

Then again, it wasn't too different than much of his experiences in the Wizarding World. Everyone, even Hagrid at their first meeting, always assumed he knew more than he did, leaving him to ask questions or figure his own way though.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Steeling himself, he smiled as he looked around. Seeing no obvious sign of an end to this forest or a trail, he chose a random direction and began walking. Nothing would be solved by standing around admiring himself.

It was rather embarrassing to him, but it took him at least an hour of walking to realize he had a bow strapped onto his back; A bow with no arrows. Still, it was a rather impressive looking bow of black wood with ornate silver ends that appeared to be sharpened to fine points. "Well, not completely defenseless," he mused, also happy to hear that his voice hadn't changed too much to his ears.

Speaking of which, did they just twitch or did he imagine that? He wasn't sure; all he knew was that he was now straining to hear something in the distance. Keeping his steps light, he followed the sound and was a bit annoyed by how much farther away it was than he expected. His hearing had improved, apparently. Regardless, he continued his investigation, careful not to step on any branches or the like that might give away his position.

He continued on until he was sure that the source was right behind the current tree he was at. Cautiously peeking around, he was surprised yet nostalgically amused by what he found: a stag. The sound he had heard was a stag drinking from a lake. How he heard that, he didn't know or care, deciding just to enjoy watching the majestic creature for a moment. It stopped and, with perfect calmness, raising its head and turned to stare right at Harry.

The Boy Who Died blinked as the animal looked upon him, calm and peaceful. He was suddenly unsure if this was just an ordinary deer.

Then it did tense, looking off in the opposite direction. Harry scrunched his brow, trying to follow its line of sight before the deer bolted off just before an arrow struck where it had been.

Harry leapt back as well, glancing out from behind the cover of a tree to search for the potential enemy.

"Whoever you are, I'm not trying to start any trouble! I'm just a hunter!" a distinctly male voice called as a figure stood out of the bushes at the nearest coast on the other side of the lake. It was a man, a human, wearing simple worn and weathered clothes beneath a leather vest, holding his bow to the side to show he meant no harm.

Harry had a hard time trusting people sometimes, which was completely justified, but he wanted his first conversation in this world to be a pleasant one if possible. "I'm sorry if I spooked your prey!" Harry called back as he stepped out, looking at the man with dirty blonde hair. He was older, mid-thirties at least, with short fuzz around his face.

"I say you distracted him more than anything," the hunter called back, looking at Harry curiously. "Get lost on the wrong side of the Pidit?"

"Eh? What?" Harry called back in confusion.

"Just don't see you folk down this far south too often," he retorted curiously.

"Sorry, I'm not from around here and I'm little lost!" Harry explained honestly.

"Oh, my apologies! I see a forest Elf and I assume they're one of the locals!" the man explained with a chuckle.

"Any chance you can give me some directions?" Harry requested.

"No problem. Follow the lake to the northern end and just keeping heading north for about another mile, you should find Hovela by then. It's an Elf village, small and friendly. But if you head east, you should be out of the forest in a fourth of a mile. You can't miss the big city once you do," the hunter explained, waving his arm in those general directions.

"Thanks and, um, happy hunting!" Harry called out as he turned to continue on.

"You're welcome, stranger! Safe traveling!" the human answered, watching him go curiously. "Odd Fella."

Harry walked, and walked, and walked until he was undeniably bored. He figured it was best to start small by heading to this Elf village. If he screwed up there, he could probably try again in the city. He had been tempted to ask the hunter more, but he was sure that would seem suspicious- and Harry wasn't a hundred percent certain that wouldn't end badly for any number of reasons.

But the man had called him an Elf. He obviously wasn't a House Elf, so he could only imagine that this was a different kind of Elf…like the kind in muggle media.

He suddenly wished he had ever bothered to read or even watch Lord of the Rings.

He was long away from the lake when he heard more voices.

"-did it, Wenny!"

"Great joy, Brammy! You might even be better than me one day!"

"Nah, nobody is a good a shot as Wenny, not even Daddy!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the bubbly, cheerful voices. He kept coming towards them as they chattered until he paused, sensing something wrong.

Everything was quiet and something in the back of his head was screaming danger.

Thinking about what to do, he sighed as he took a gamble. "You're not going to shoot if I come out?"

"Probably not, no," one of the voices answered with a warning edge.

Deciding that was the best he'd get, Harry stepped out into sight, spotting a pair of female blonds, both with pointed ears. The younger one was a preteen, he'd guess ten or eleven, dressed in a soft blue and white dress. Her long blond hair was up in a ponytail, revealing her pale skin and red eyes. The older had blue-green eyes with hair just past her shoulders, with a few bands of intricate braids, and wearing a body suit of tight dark-green, almost black material. It hugged her curves completely, making Harry stare a bit longer than he intended.

And both of them were holding bows with arrows pointed at him.

They gave him curious, confused looks while studying him. As if deducing he wasn't a threat, they lowered their weapons with bright smiles. "Sorry about that! We thought you were something a bit more dangerous," the older one explained.

"Like a Dire Wolf!" the younger one chirped helpfully.

"Em, I suppose it's my fault for not announcing myself," Harry mused cautiously. "Any chance you can point me in the direction to Hovela?"

"Of course! Wenny lives there!" the younger one announced assuredly. "I'm Bramble! Bramble Thrach."

"Harry Potter," he answered with a smile at the little ball of joy and energy.

"I'm Wenwyn," the elder answered with a hand over her chest. "You don't have any marks on your armor. I take it you're a wanderer?" she asked kindly.

"That'd be about the case," Harry answered, deciding it wasn't technically a lie. He had no home now and was wandering.

"Well, Hovela is always welcoming to those needing a place to stop as they pass through and it is about time for us to head back," Wenwyn assured, motioning for him to follow them.

Harry glanced at a tree with painted targets as they went, one filled with arrows. "I'm guessing you were both practicing?"

"Yep! Wenny is great with a bow, and she trains me whenever I visit!" Bramble answered happily.

"Visit?" Harry repeated, looking between the two. "Huh, I figured you were both sisters."

"Oh no, nothing like that," Wenwyn waved off with a giggle. "She's just a very talented little thing and I couldn't resist teaching her some!"

"Don't mind Wenny. She's always this cheerful and perky," Bramble explained with a small laugh.

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, amused that Wenwyn was almost more childish than the actual child.

"Speaking of talent, I can't help noticing that rather interesting bow on your back," Wenwyn noted, eyeing it keenly. "Tell me you know how to use it? Please?"

"Not...really?" Harry answered sheepishly. "It was sort of a gift I received after someone's passing not too long ago."

"We'll have to fix that!" Bramble said with adorable determination.

Harry sighed at that. "Well, unfortunately, I lost my money on the way here, so I might have to sell it."

"How much?" Wenwyn asked instantly.

"Wenny! Let him at least take it to a seller to figure out how much it's worth," Bramble scolded with puffy cheeks.

"Brammy, don't bow-block me!" Wenwyn retorted with a pout.

Harry watched them oddly as they went, wondering if all Elves were this bizarre or if he just lucked out. At least they were friendly.

That was a good a start as he could hope in this world, he imagined.

End of Chapter

Well, here we go, the first of my Isekai-style Harry Potter story. Hope you enjoyed it, the first few chapters will be a bit of comfy exploring as Harry finds out more about this new world of his.

Bramble and Wenwyn were created by TokHaar Gol.

In other news, a lot has happened: my great grandma, who raised me, died last month. And after giving it a lot of thought, I realized it's best to not try and keep the house. For many reasons, not the least of which is asshole landlords. That said, I won't be homeless, as my birth mother is willing to take me in and help me get on my feet. But due to all of that, I will probably not get any more writing done for a week or two as I try and get everything out.

And no, the symbolism of my final chapter post being the start of Harry choosing to move on to his Great Next Adventure is not lost on me, nor is it intentional.

PS I appreciate the well wishes in reviews, but please also comment on the story as well. XP

PPS I have an original fic on my now called Among the Amazons, the first chapter is free.

go fund me . com (slash) f (slash) akumakami64
p a treon . com (slash) akumakami64