A little something for the Thursday Vignette challenge. I hope you like it (because I love Harry showing assholes the finger a whole effing lot).

From Nowhere Back To You

So this was it.

Being dead meant standing at King's Cross, and meeting Albus Dumbledore of all people.

What a fucking joke.

Harry inwardly fumed as Dumbledore droned on about his mistakes and his dalliance with Gellert fucking Grindlewald, and about his failings as a human being, as if laying it all out in its grisly glory absolved him from his sins. As if Harry were his fucking therapist, only present to soothe his remorse and self-recrimination.

Of course, Harry had no intention of forgiving Dumbledore for any of his faults or the mistreatment he had suffered due to his countless interferences.

Still, he went along with it, offered all the little questions and encouragements the old man would require to keep talking, until nothing at all remained a secret.

"So I am the true master of death," Harry mused, once Dumbledore finally seemed done with confessing his sins.

"Yes, you may wield them when others can not," Dumbledore answered. He seemed lighter, unburdened, and it galled Harry to the core. "The Cloak will always follow you, do for you what it won't do for anyone else, just like the Elder Wand will probably always attach itself to you."

"No matter the shape of my physical wand ..." Harry allowed a slow smile to tug on his lips. "And the Resurrection Stone?"

"I can only speculate, Harry, and as it has been destroyed, the point may be moot."

"Hmm." Harry rose, startling Dumbledore from his meditative state of being. "Well, it was ... enlightening talking to you, headmaster, but I'm afraid I have to go."

"Where to?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Harry replied. He flicked his wrist and his wand was suddenly in his hand. Around him, reality began to shift into new forms, although they remained nebulous.

"I rather thought you'd go back," Dumbledore confessed. "Try to meet Lord Voldemort one last time, to defeat him and to make the world a better place. Although you could go on, I suppose, as this does seem to be King's Cross."

His tone implied that he'd be rather disappointed with Harry if he did that, which only made the things Harry was planning to say all the sweeter.

"Oh, I'll definitely go on." Harry smirked. Seeing the shock on the old goat's whithered face was delicious. "You can keep Voldemort's seventh Horcrux company, for all I care. You were rather invested in keeping it close, after all. You're even now calling him Lord Voldemort. He isn't a lord of anything, as far as I know, but maybe you went and fell for his bullshit like all the other morons back there. It would explain a lot."

"But Harry, my boy-"

"Shut it, Dumbledore," Harry snapped. "I am not, nor have I ever been, your boy. If I had been, I might not have slept in a cupboard under the stairs, or ever gone hungry, or been beaten until my bones broke by my fat cousin and his friends. I might not have had to meet the monster that killed my parents over and over again, I might not have been pitted against dementors, entered in a magical, potentially deadly contest, forced to unnecessarily break into the Ministry of Magic and rescue my godfather, or break into Gringotts, for that matter, or putting up with the most vile wizarding family I've ever had the misfortune to meet. And no, I don't mean the Malfoys."

"Harry-"

"You lost the privilege to call me by my first name the day you knowingly and wilfully kept my inheritance and legacy from me. You lost the privilege to ask me for help the day you hashed out that unspeakable plan to potion both Hermione and I into compliance, just because Molly Weasley felt entitled to both of our fortunes. Hermione realized she had been potioned almost right away, did you know that? Asked Dobby for a flushing drought and forced me into taking one, as well. Ronald Weasley of all people managed to sneak it into our food, and he's as subtle as a brick to the head. I'll never forgive myself for not realizing what an honourless slug he is."

"It was all for the Greater Good," Dumbledore protested, "As it's always been! You have a responsibility to the wizarding world! The Weasleys deserved the good your riches could have afforded, after all they've done for you."

"I really don't feel responsible for these gormless idiots, and your so-called Greater Good only ever meant misery for all of us. Even him." Harry pointed at the ugly, wailing creature somewhere behind them. "I won't tolerate your interference anymore, and neither will Hermione. She and I agreed that, if it ever came to this, that I'd go on, or rather, go where it'll serve us best, and to hell with the rest of the world."

"Is that really what you want?" Dumbledore asked, slumping in defeat.

"I won't be able to do much about the first eleven years of my life," Harry retorted, voice cold and face stony. "But I sure as hell will do everything I can to keep your bloody nose out of our business after that. Death agrees, by the way. You were right that I'm not afraid of dying, and that I know that I'll have to move on at some point, but that's the reason he's offered me a boon - a do-over of my shitty life. And as an extra special perk, he's agreed to let Hermione go back as well, because we're fated, you absolute git. We will know what happened, which will give us all the advantage we need to actually make it this time. And if I manage to find Sirius here and convince him to embrace his true form as Death's child, Death will even spare him Azkaban. He and I can be a happy family, and I plan to be very happy. Your crimes against Magic won't happen again if we can help it."

Stunned, Dumbledore stared up at him. Even as a projection, or whatever he was, he didn't look too good. "You would destroy everything I've worked for?"

"You bet I will. See that train track there? The one leading into misty woods?" Harry pointed at the slowly appearing, seemingly endless tracks leading from an old, dark forest into the vast, billowing white of nothingness. "That's my path, and you'll never have any say about how I walk it, ever again. Better get used to it now, Dumbledore, because neither Hermione nor I plan to show you any mercy if you don't learn from your mistakes."

Harry turned to go, leaving King's Cross and its unpleasant occupants behind without a goodbye. Dumbledore certainly didn't deserve one.

After a what felt a mile of purposeful walking, he felt a dark, overwhelming and yet, for all that, rather peaceful presence by his side.

"Hello Death," he greeted, glancing up. "Fancy seeing you here. I thought I had to do this alone?"

I changed my mind, the being let him know. And I want my childe back. He's lost in the dark of the forest, but you'll find him for me and make him whole.

"I will," Harry promised. "I loved him in my first life, and we will love each other as we deserve in the next - thanks to you."

I am but a moment at the fork in the road, Death said. What you make of the possibility shall be your concern.

"We'll make it good." Harry grinned at the towering darkness next to him. "And now tell me, did you really have an affair with Lady Magic? Is that where all the little grims came from?"

Who says it ever ended? Death asked smugly, and Harry burst out into delighted laughter.

The End