This is an experiment switching between first and third person perspectives, if it is confusing I apologize, feedback is welcome

So I guess introductions are in order, eh? Well fine, I can deal with that I suppose, I was never very good at outright lying regardless. Misdirection and manipulation? Most certainly, I was a master of the art. You couldn't survive the childhood I lived through without learning such skills, and I'll forever be thankful for Dudley taking pity on me and teaching me his abilities to manipulate adults.

Outright fabrications? Eh, I left those up to Hermione, she was after all the most clever and ruthless of us all. Ron and I had actually made several jokes that were not quite really jokes about our bushy haired friend over the years, on how she would be the most likely of us to become the next Dark Lady, Lord, whatever. Her intellect, magical prowess, and willingness to force her opinions on others kind of made a strong case for our argument.

We hadn't been wrong, in the end, but she had only taken up the mantle to save the rest of us from the muggle storm kicked up by Voldemort, and NATO along with the UN learned to tremble at the name of Hermione Granger. She didn't enjoy it, which is probably why she lasted so long, didn't fall into that retarded sado-masochism thing that Tom indulged in, and being the genius woman she was she made the muggles bleed for every magical life they took.

Right, drifting, it happens when you're as old and unhinged as I am, but you get used to people indulging in your idiosyncrasies when you're the magical equivalent of a M.I.R.V. and their only hope for survival when their Lady finally fell to enemy fire.

Where the fuck was I? Oh, hello, my name is Lord Hadrien James Potter-Black, of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Black and Potter. Please, just call me Harry Potter, I hate all that pretentious bullshit, only reason I legally filed it to begin with was to take the mickey out of Draco. Nominally because his son was shagging my daughter, but that wasn't outright stated, because honestly neither of us were sure who was more disturbed by the coupling.

Oh, right, the end of the world, that thing. See the problem with the Statute of Secrecy was that it was all well and good before the creation of CCTV networks and the internet. Muggle-born, and Half-Blood magicals got that they had to be careful, learn where there was no camera overlap and slip through the shadows mixing into the crowd and all that.

Pure-bloods?

Nope.

They signed the death warrant on our people in the late 90's, it wasn't the apparating about, or dressing like they were going to a fucking renaissance fair. No, it was the idiots who liked to go to the park, imperio a lovely young lady, rape her till she was bloody and obliviate her that caused the initial problems.

Nominally, because A.)CCTV Cameras, B.) Mobile phones they didn't realize existed much less that they were still running, C.) Satellites, and D.) Righteously pissed off muggles who had every reason in the world to demand murder.

It was all kind of unfair really, to the rest of the magical world that is. The governments in Eurasia, the Americas, and Australia had all adapted to the times, it was our little isolated island that fucked everyone over.

It wasn't a slow build up, not at all, why would it be? They knew the magical governments had been playing with their minds for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and so they needed to strike hard and fast.

Voldemort stopped being a problem on June 1, 2003 when a tactical nuclear bomb was dropped on Diagon Alley during a Death Eater raid. Horcruxes didn't really matter when everyone who would bother resurrecting your pale necromatic ass was atomized with you, along with thousands of innocent civilians.

The attacks that followed were swift, brutal, and effecient, primarily because, surprise surprise, dispossessed muggle-borns pointed the soldiers at where to hit the hardest. It would have been quite the coup if it hadn't been for one Hermione Jean Granger.

Unbeknownst to the rest of us she'd been studying muggle tech her entire school career, and had been modifying wards and spells to deal with them. What was most important was a passive shield spell that dissolved super-sonic objects, thus negating bullets as a threat. Second, was a cleansing ward that removed the threat of radiation poisoning.

This was an amazing boon, but only prolonged the fighting further increasing the lose of life on both sides. It didn't really matter near the end though, the muggles had popped enough nukes world wide to irradiate the air itself, and the magicals had unleashed so many unearthly horrors in their desperation to survive that... Well...it was best not to speak of them.

Hermione died when the muggles dropped a fifty megaton nuclear bomb on Edinborough while she had been attempting to negotiate peace. The resulting fallout killed the British isles, and in their rage the surviving witches and wizards invaded the continent and just started killing anyone who got in the way.

Ron and I were on the front line.

Morally, we were wrong, but emotionally, the woman that we both loved, who had been our balance point for years, had been murdered while suing for peace in a move that also killed our homeland. We were going to make the world suffer for that transgression.

And we did, then Ron died, then Neville, Dean, Daphne, Draco, Charlie, James, Rose, Lily, Hugo, Scorpius, Albus...in the end everyone died, everyone but me.

The muggles figured it out in the end, how horrendously they had fucked up trying to commit genocide, but it was too little, too late. Those of us left despised the monkeys and killed them on sight, we didn't even ask questions anymore, why the fuck would we? Every time a witch or wizard tried to talk to them they were drugged and cut open within hours, if they were going to treat us like lab specimens, we would treat them like wild dogs.

This went on until I was the only one left, and wouldn't you know it? I can't die. Hooray for me, I'm immortal, I am the King of Ashes. I've actually made a game of it, hunting down live rounds and shooting myself in the head to see if it takes, or finding live nukes and setting them off point blank.

None of it works, I'm still here, everyone I ever loved and cared about is long dead, and the Earth molders in its radioactive glory around me.

Yay me.

Fuck, I'm so resigned to this fate I can't even feel self pity, and isn't that sad? Whatever, I'm visiting London again, it's where Luna and our daughter died. Ginny had been murdered two years earlier, along with Luna's first husband and her children, neither of us knew what to do with ourselves in the aftermath.

We ended up having sex, often, and she was soon with child so I proposed, because why not? Luna was one of my best friends and I honestly did love her and all her awkward strangeness. She hadn't even been in a magical district when she took Mary for a walk, the newborn still adjusting to the city air. Some Death Eater copycats had been torturing some muggles a dozen blocks away, so the military had dropped a five kiloton tactical nuke on the neighborhood in question.

That's when I lost my second and last family.

Honestly I'm shocked I'm not more insane than I already am, I mean the shit I've seen? Morgana do I miss them, my brothers and sisters in arms, my wives, my siblings of choice, my children, my...my everything.

But nope, Master of Death, I get to wander the fields of bones for eternity, yay me. I kind of go on autopilot as I head deeper into the ruins of London, and can't help but sneer when I see the crater that used to house the Ministry for Magic.

Shrugging, since I really had nothing better to do, I walked through the rubble and bones until I reach dead center, and pause in contemplation as I take in the intact arch that was the Veil of Death.

"Well...looks like the two of us survived when all others didn't? Hmm?" Scowling I began walking around the arch a few times before stopping midstep and grinned like the madman I am.

"Oh, Oh! Sirius! I could go see Sirius! Why not? Everyone's dead, the worlds dead, no more no more...so why not see if I can't find my Dogfather?!"

Really? Why not? Putting no extra thought into it I grinned and jumped through the Veil, leaving a dead world behind me.

Huh, death was a lot more stuffy then he thought it would be, interesting. Sitting up Harry examined his enclosed space and blinked once in surprise, in the faint light bleeding through the stairs he read a handwritten tag, and didn't quite know what to make of it.

'Harriet's Room'

"Huh..." Standing he moved to open the door but it was locked, which annoyed him immensely since locks should know better then to cross him, he'd made an example of enough of them thank you very much. Before he could put the fear of god into the obstinate little fuck there was a cacophony of noise that sounded like a bag of bowling balls running down the stairs, a few moments later the door was thrown open and an obese walrus of a man leered down at him.

"Girl, get started on breakfast now, or I'll make you wish you had moved faster when your betters gave you orders!"

"Huh," Harry stated as he left the cupboard under the stairs and entered the kitchen. "Huh," he stated yet again as he realized he really was in Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey England once again. Which honestly, was a bit of a jaunt since it had been nuked about thirty years ago, how interesting.

So, more to occupy himself then anything Harry began making breakfast, and found some dark amusement in the fact that despite the decades that had passed he was able to crank out an English fry up like a boss. As the Dursleys waited at the table they watched him...err..her? The Harriet thing? He hadn't had time to check the plumbing, but whatever, they watched her as she prepared a plate laden down with bacon and eggs.

Once finished she turned on the garbage disposal and dumped all the food aside from her plate down the drain, the Dursleys looked apocalyptic but Harry didn't give a fuck. Turning off the disposal she plucked up her plate, walked to the table, sat down and began munching on a piece of bacon.

As Vernon began to turn a rather interesting shade of puce she finally spoke up using her 'Voice of Power' that Harry utilized on the battlefields of the damned.

"Alright assholes, this is how reality is going to go from here on out, I'm going to give you instructions, and you are going to follow them without question. The first person who speaks out of turn, loses their mother fucking tongue." With a flick of her wrist a butchers knife flew from the block in the kitchen landing in her hand gently, twirling it once she stabbed it into the table grinning sweetly.

"Any questions?" Heh, even if this was just a delusion caused by walking through the veil, the looks on Vernon and Petunia's faces made this all worth it. Why had she even walked through the veil again?

"Oh right!" She chirped out further scaring her 'family', "I'm going to go break my serial murderer godfather out of prison, so do me a favor and prepare the guest room alright?"

Taking her still mostly full plate off the table she dumped it on the floor and stamped on the food a few times before heading for the front door.

"Don't worry Padfoot, help is on the way!

Mostly sane jailbreaks are good jailbreaks right? Please R&R