A.N.~Standard Disclaimer: This is just a fic. Non-profit and for funzies. No beta. All mistakes are me.

This also has a prequel which is pretty short and that I suggest you read to maybe clarify some things. It's called Death's Diary. You should be able to manage this story just fine without it, but it will provide some back ground info.

Prologue

Harry found himself suddenly awake in a familiar white train station. It couldn't be the real King's Cross, the Mundanes—as the muggles had demanded to be called, before everything went to hell, when they found out about the Wizarding World and wanted something less demeaning,—had bombed the station on first of September hoping to wipe out the 'devil spawn' before they could get to school. It had been before the Mundanes had created technology that could defeat wards so the Wizarding children were safely evacuated but the station was still destroyed.

He wondered, peering at the too clean whiteness around him, if he would see Dumbledore again. He hoped not. Harry had long ago come to terms with Dumbledore basically raising him to die, but after living through the horrors of the Mundane-Magical war he was not in the mood to hear the old man's pro-muggle beliefs.

Harry stood and wished for some clothes. He was not as modest as he had been, modesty had no place in the war, and he didn't care much about his nude body, but he still wanted to be clothed to face what was coming. Something was coming, he could feel it. His gut instinct, it had been called, but it had never let him down. His intuition had saved his life and the lives of those with him hundreds of times. Though that was before he had realized he couldn't die, or at least couldn't stay dead.

After he had embraced his role as the 'Master of Death' Harry had volunteered for all the suicide missions: breaking into laboratories, military bases, camps—anywhere he could go to free Magicals he went. He had saved many people, though in the end it had all been for nothing. The Mundane weapons had destroyed the world, made it uninhabitable even for themselves. People had started to die off from starvation and radiation sickness. Towards the end of things Magicals and Mundanes weren't even fighting each other anymore they were just trying to survive.

Harry was pushed out of his musings by the sudden presence of six beings behind him. He turned and couldn't help but gape. They were strange to him, but he Knew them somehow. Some deep part of him recognized them. His tense shoulders relaxed, and for the first time in ages he felt at peace. He studied the beings in front of him. Their identities flowing from deep in his subconscious.

The first to catch his attention were the pair of twins. His heart ached just looking at them, reminded of Fred and George. George had never been the same after the loss of his twin, how could he? He had managed to make himself a family. Marrying Angela Johnson and having two kids: Fred and Roxanne, but during the war with the Mundanes he had lost even them. After that, George had taken crazier and crazier missions until one day he just didn't come back. These twins though were not exactly identical like Fred and George had been.

Order, his mind told him, was dressed in a pristine three-piece suit. His light brown hair was straight and neatly combed, not a strand out of place. There was not a speck of dust on him, even his black loafers seemed to shine in the brightness of the station. In contrast, his brother, Chaos, was a wreck. He was dressed in torn, dirty jeans and a dark blue hoodie. His hair was tussled in the just-rolled-out-of-bed way. He wore a pair of old sneakers that were heavily scuffed.

Next to them stood a young girl, Luck. She had unnatural baby-blue eyes that sparkled with mischievousness. Her hair was up in braided pig-tails half of it was pure white while the other half was vibrant purple. As he watched she pulled a pack of cards out of one of the pockets on the overalls she was wearing and began doing complicated shuffles. Her feet were clad only in a pair of mismatched socks.

Beside her stood a young woman dressed in a smart business suit. She was Fate, he recognized with some trepidation, after all, Fate had never been kind to him making him the chosen one of a prophecy that had ruined his life. She regarded him with sharply angled eyes. One was a dull yellow and the other a pale green; both were slit vertically by the pupil, like a cat. Her black hair was pulled out of her face in a bun tighter than even McGonagall's had been.

On the other side of her stood a being he knew in his very blood, Lady Magic. She reminded him a lot of Luna, before the war. The Lady had an ethereal beauty. She was a fair blonde, almost to the point of having white hair. Sticking out between the pale tresses were two delicate, pointed ears. Above her high cheek bones were her pupil-and-iris-less eyes. They were just a swirling expanse of white. She wore a full length dress that seemed made out of crystal and water. It flowed around her on invisible waves.

Last, but not least stood the only splash of darkness in the white hall of King's Cross. It was Death, shrouded in night, boney thin. Harry couldn't see his face, only two pinpricks of light like distant stars. Idly he looked for a scythe, not really surprised to not find one. Part of him was overwhelmed, yet still a larger part wondered if he had finally died. Maybe now he could rest in the afterlife with his family and forget about the war.

We are sorry, young Harry, the being called Fate spoke, only her mouth didn't move. It was as if her voice echoed from everywhere, You have gone through so much, more perhaps than any other Soul. We apologize for this, but there was no other way.

"Excuse me," he interrupted, part of him screaming that he had clearly gone insane while the other part of him knew that they would never hurt him, "My whole life has been one mess after the other, and now you pull me here to tell me that you're sorry! All my life I've been nothing but your little bi—"

We had hoped you would save the world spoke Order and Chaos, their voices perfectly in sync causing Harry's angry words to die in his throat.

"Great, then I obviously failed," Harry despaired, looks like he had let more than his family down, he had failed the entire bloody world!

Not at all, youngling Luck giggled still shuffling her deck.

It is we who failed continued Lady Magic We are timeless beings and have known the end of the world we had created. Our attempts to correct the path all failed. But due to some unforeseen circumstances there may yet be a chance.

"What kind of circumstances," Harry asked, wary now, shoulders rising again in tension.

Death raised his arm, and Harry gasped taking an involuntary step forward. Clasped gently in Death's thin, skeletal hand was an orb. Harry's entire being filled with longing to hold it as if this thing could finally complete the huge hole that had been with him since—

"That's Riddle's soul," Harry exclaimed. He knew, had always been able to sense the bits and pieces of Riddles soul; now, complete, it was almost overwhelming. It had been one of Harry's greatest secrets, the hole in his being where he was sure Riddle's horcrux had once been. Part of him had missed it, much to his disgust, but he couldn't help the longing that filled him even now.

The Dark Lord made you his Soulmate Death said, still holding out the man's soul as if offing for him to take it.

"W- what!? That can't be," Harry stuttered. He wanted to strongly deny it, yet part of him Knew, had always Known that he and Voldemort had been more deeply connected than anybody could have guessed. It was a bit of the reason why he had dated and then married Ginny. She too bore the scars of carrying a piece of Riddle's soul, though it had taken years for him to admit it, if just to himself. Still it hadn't been enough. His marriage had been falling apart years before the outbreak of the Mundane-Magic war.

You are connected to the Dark Lord, though you were not 'born' this way Fate continued, catty eyes watching him He tied you two together the night he tried to kill you when you were a babe.

Using this connection, we can send you back to the same time, allowing you to remember what all other souls forget Death said, finally dropping his hand. Riddle's soul didn't disappear though. It stayed afloat and slowly made its way towards Harry. He wanted to turn away, but couldn't

"Forget?" Harry asked, more to distract himself from the desire to reach out and 'pet' Riddle's soul.

We place souls into new times after Death brings them back Luck spoke, sitting down on the ground and starting to build a house of cards They come here and remember, then go back and forget.

We will place you in the same time were your soul already exists said Chaos as he knelt down to help Luck with her house.

This will allow you to remember Order continued seamlessly You will go back to the moment yours and his soul bonded. The first time Death brushed you by. It will help the merging of your 'present' soul with its 'past' incarnation.

"You want me to go back and try to save the world when I failed to do so in the first place," Harry asked incredulously. In his distraction, one of his hands rose up and gently caressed Riddle's. It was a shock to his system of Whole. Complete. One. Together. He gasped but couldn't bring himself to pull away.

You must Fate said, prowling forward a step All those souls who suffered. Were torn and damaged, ravaged by war. We need you to stop it.

"I just want to rest," said Harry, voice laden with exhaustion, "to see my family. Get to know my mum and dad. Why is it always me?" He asked not really expecting an answer.

Because you are special Lady Magic replied, her white eyes catching and holding his in their fathomless gaze You are as Bright as he here she nodded towards Riddle's Soul is Dark. You are Favored to Us. As much our childe as any can ever be.

"Can't I spend just a little time to rest," Harry asked, not quite begging, but close.

We are sorry Order said, pulling out a pocket watch that Harry had just now noticed and clicking it open The longer you remain here the less chance the Merge will work.

Harry could only sigh. Curse his people saving thing, he thought, already ready to agree. If he could save them, his friends and family. All the Magical and Mundanes who had died so violently he would do it.

As if sensing his agreement Death lifted a hand and made a soft beckoning motion. Riddle's Soul slowly made its way back as if it was reluctant to leave his side. Harry couldn't say that he didn't feel the same as he watched it leave. The longing was back, and the emptiness.

You will save your Soulmate Death said as the others moved to encircle Harry.

"Er, what," he asked distracted from the loss of Riddle's Soul.

You will save your Soulmate Death patiently repeated It is the only way to save the world. He must be complete. You must heal him.

"How do you expect me to do that," Harry demanded, "You forget he spent most of his time trying to kill me!"

It was Lady Magic who answered We will aid you when the time comes.

"But that doesn't answer how—," Harry responded, beyond exasperated.

There is no time Order interrupted.

We have one more quest for you to undertake Chaos added.

"Oh, there's something else you need me to do besides save the whole bloody world!" Harry said, teeth almost grinding.

We ask that you free the souls that have been imprisoned in those abominations you call Dementors Death said, for the first time sounding angry, the others shifted in agitation.

"And how am I supposed to do that," Harry asked their actions intriguing him, "No one's been able to kill a Dementor."

The Hallows Death said It is their true purpose. The cloak will protect you. The stone will release the Souls. The wand will destroy those monsters.

Harry had very little time to absorb that fact before a snickering Luck called from behind him Good Luck!

The next thing Harry knew his vision was filled with a sickly green light and two ominous words ringing in his ears, "Avada Kedavra!"

A.N.~I hope you enjoy. Fierce. Out.