Chapter Text
Betrayal was not something Harry Potter was unaccustomed to. She had felt nothing but bone deep betrayal for months after the final battle. Learning that a man you considered family, a man that had been your mentor, had raised you like a pig to slaughter, subtly manipulating you to be happy to waltz to your death tended to mess a person up mentally.
But this betrayal Harry had not seen coming. She had been completely blind-sided. It had come out of left field, and she had only discovered the duplicity on accident. She clearly had not been meant to hear it; her two best friends whispering conspiratorially with Ginny. Their words pierced her heart like a knife.
"We only have so long for you to marry her, Ginny. You've managed to make her fall in love with you, thanks to the love Potions mum brewed. But Dumbledore's time-delayed letter will arrive in two months. The Horcrux inside of her has molded to her own soul, and she needs to be dead. But having the Potter and Black fortunes is a must."
Hermione had spoken nonchalantly about her death, brown eyes glittering with malevolent greed. Harry had felt sick to her stomach. Voldemort's soul had molded to her own. Her death had meant nothing. Potter and Black vaults? Plural? Why hadn't Sirius said anything? Dumbledore?
Harry stiffened and hastily pulled her Invisibility Cloak on, huddling closer to the stone wall. She had been living at Hogwarts to help the restoration, but now she wanted to flee - to run and never return. But she forced herself to remain, to listen. Her friends - had they ever been her true friends? - spoke casually about Dumbledore and their plans to murder her and take all her money (apparently, she was filthy rich).
Dumbledore had organized with them a time sealed letter that would be sent to the Minister of Magic, which was currently Kingsley Shacklebolt, spilling all about Harry's connection to Tom Riddle, AKA Lord Voldemort. Undoubtedly the Ministry, wanting to keep the peace, would kill her.
Harry clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting her breakfast all over the flagstones and shuddered as Ginny, quite gleefully, cackled about manipulating Harry into loving her. It made her sick.
Time meant nothing as Harry stood there, gazing at nothing. Her friends - former friends - had long since left, their vicious plans buzzing about Harry's mind. People she loved, had trusted.
Betrayal felt something akin to a thousand knives piercing her heart.
Harry had to get out of there. She didn't know who else was part of it if anyone. Snape was dead, throat torn out by Nagini. She had no one else to trust. Who knew how deep McGonagall was in Dumbledore's pocket? Had she known? Perhaps.
Harry stumbled from the school, stomach rolling with nausea. She blindly made her way down the long, winding path from the castle to the gates and all but collapsed outside them. She heaved and retched, food and bile splattering on the ground.
Had everything been a lie? Harry wondered. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny - perhaps even Mrs. Weasley - had been plotting her death with the Mastermind himself, Albus Dumbledore. It didn't really surprise her all that much about him. He had manipulated her to become a self-sacrificing martyr. He had also been Gellert Grindelwald’s lover, for Merlin’s sake.
Harry righted herself and wiped her mouth, grimacing at the acrid taste of sick, and turned sharply on her heel with a muffled crack. She appeared at the Apparition Zone in Diagon, and hastily made her way to the bank. The glass dome had been repaired since Harry and her frie - Granger and Weasley - had escaped on Dragon back months ago.
Harry hesitantly stepped inside, pulling off her Invisibility Cloak. A goblin appeared at her side, silent as a ghost, making her startle.
"Heiress Potter-Black, King Agluk wishes to see you," the goblin said.
"Oh." Harry bit her lip and nodded, "Sure, lead the way,"
The unnamed goblin nodded sharply and turned on its heel, leading Harry down a cavernous hallway and into a lavishly decorated room. A somewhat old-looking, gnarled goblin sat on an ornate, wooden seat with an iron crown on its head.
Harry attempted to curtsey, "King Agluk. I wish to apologize for the…destruction I wrought in the bank,"
King Agluk stared at Harry coolly, "Hm. Irontooth was right. You are a bizarre witch. Apologizing to Goblins? Bizarre indeed, Heiress Potter-Black, but that is not why I called to see you,"
Harry gulped, "Oh?"
"Hm. Indeed, after your Wizarding War we goblins began audits on all our customers’ accounts following so many deaths. Your account manager, Rotgut, was discovered having been approving illegal betrothal contracts and transactions. He was beheaded at dawn for his crimes,"
"Uh…thanks?" Harry mumbled unsurely, brows furrowed, "…betrothal contract? Transactions?"
Agluk bared his teeth fiercely, "Monthly transactions were made to one Margaret Weasley, Ronald Billius Weasley, and Ginevra Weasley. Many Potter heirlooms and books were sent to one Hermione Granger along with a monthly allowance. A bimonthly allowance was also sent to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, amounting to twenty-four thousand dollars per year. Albus Dumbledore, who illegally made himself your magical guardian, made these transactions and took for himself over a million galleons yearly. Of course, none of these transactions put even the slightest dent in your fortune, but we at Gringotts do not take thievery lightly,"
Harry stared wildly at the goblin king, her stomach once again rolling with nausea. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, and rage, and destroy those who had wronged her. The Dursley's got money? They never spent it on her. God, her friends - former friends - had been paid to befriend her.
Harry grit her teeth, "What happens now, your Majesty?"
King Agluk looked pleased, and waved a hand to the blank sheet of parchment on the table, "A blood test, for securities sake, Heiress Potter-Black,"
Harry stepped forward and accepted the blade handed to her. She cut into her palm and placed it on the parchment for several seconds. She pulled away and absently healed her hand as she watched her blood soak into the parchment and unfurl into bloody words.
HADRIANA LILITH POTTER-BLACK
CORE TYPE: DARK NEUTRAL (FORCED CORE CHANGE TO LIGHT AT FIFTEEN MONTHS OLD)
PARENTS: LILITH 'LILY' EVANS-BLACK (MOTHER, SQUIB DESCENDANT), JAMES CHARLUS POTTER (FATHER), SIRIUS ORION BLACK (BLOOD-ADOPTED 6 MONTHS OLD)
DOB: JULY 31ST, 1980
INHERITANCE: POTTER, BLACK, GRYFFINDOR, PEVERELL, SLYTHERIN.
FAMILIAL MAGICKS INHERITED: OCCLUMENCY (BLOCKED, 92%), ANIMAGUS TRANSFORMATION (BLOCKED 76%), METAMORPHAGUS (BLOCKED 98%), PARSEL-SPEECH (UNBLOCKED 100%)
MAGICAL TITLES BESTOWED: MASTER OF DEATH
Harry looked up from the Inheritance test with wide eyes. Even King Agluk looked stupefied as his beady black eyes met hers. She opened her mouth, but only a small choking noise came out. She clamped her mouth shut and cleared her throat awkwardly, and tried again, "Mistress of Death?"
"Indeed."
Harry and Agluk both turned to stare at the tall, skeletal figure shrouded in darkness and shadows. The room had noticeably grown colder, and Harry's breath misted in front of her face as she exhaled sharply.
"D-Death," she stammered awkwardly, shoulders shuddering almost violently.
"Mistress," Death intoned in a voice that was neither male or female but rattled like a bag of bones.
Harry swallowed, coughed at how dry her throat was, and felt herself flush despite the cold, "Um…h-how am I your, er, Mistress? I left the stone in the Forest and the wand in…Dumbledore's tomb,"
Death gave a rattling chuckle that made Harry want to cry, "If you look into that bottomless bag of yours, Mistress, you shall find both. I declared you a suitable Master and so my gifts will find you wherever you go. You are the last of Ignotus' progeny, Dear Mistress,"
"…he was one of the original brothers. The one to greet you as an old friend…" Harry whispered in realization, eyes wide, "My cloak…the Invisibility Cloak,"
Death hummed, but it rather sounded like gravel going through a washing machine. Harry noted Agluk shudder next to her. Death continued, "Indeed. Ignotus' son had only one daughter, who wed into the Potter family,"
Harry gaped, "Why - why have you made yourself…known?"
Death gave another of those chilling laughs, "To assist you, of course, Mistress. You have discovered the betrayal, and I shall give you the answer,"
"Answer to what?" Harry demanded.
Death chuckled, "Oh, Mistress. I can see into your soul, your heart, and see your deepest, darkest of desires. I know you seek vengeance. Albus Dumbledore's machinations run deep; deeper than you could comprehend. For decades he has brought upon the end of all things,"
Suddenly, Harry wasn't standing in a Gringotts office anymore. No. She floated mid-air, Death and King Agluk on either side of her. She stared incomprehensibly at her surroundings. She was floating over London…she knew that. But the city…it was destroyed.
Buildings were blackened and burnt out, crumbling ruins. The streets were cracked, nature growing through them, trying to reclaim the city. Cars sat with weeds growing through them, some were only burnt out husks of metal. Harry swallowed. For as far as her eye could see, ruination surrounded her.
"What is this?"
Death's voice rasped, "My sister Fate showed me this vision. This is London in two thousand and seven after the first Blood War,"
"…Blood War?" Harry echoed faintly.
"In nineteen ninety-nine, Muggles discover magic. The Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley, thought it a good idea to release the knowledge of magic. It backfired spectacularly, and Muggle governments all over the world dropped atomic bombs on magical areas. Diagon Alley, Hogwarts. It has taken the Muggles less than eight years to render Magical Races extinct," Death explained, that rattling voice sounding so unimaginably pained.
Harry stared at Death, "How?"
Death rasped a sarcastic laugh, "Muggles may not have magic, but they do have superior weapons of mass destruction. Despite their victory over Magic, they have had to flee to outer space in stations. Humans have mere years to survive. All will fall, including the gods and goddesses. Including Death,"
Harry stared, heart pounding, "How do we stop it?" She demanded, heart positively wrenching at the thought of the end of magic. The apocalypse.
"We do not," Death answered, "You do. With assistance,"
Shock and horror rolled over Harry, "You don't mean…Voldemort?"
"T’was his goals, before insanity claimed him. To bring back the Olde Ways of Worship. To cherish and worship Mother Magic, Lady Hecate. He feared running out of time and delved into Immortality Magicks that ate away at his sanity. All magic has a price,"
Harry stumbled as her surroundings changed again, this time back to the Gringotts office. She stared at Death, "How am I supposed to do anything?"
Death laughed, "I can send your soul back in time, Mistress. To whichever age you prefer. Your memories shall remain intact, and you can choose three others to have their memories and that of our conversation and the truth of Dumbledore's machinations,"
Harry gaped, mind whirling through all the information that had been dumped on her. Magic would be eradicated because of Granger. Gods, was the girl stupid? But that wasn't the most…alarming news of the day. Harry would have to join up with Voldemort to stop the bloody apocalypse. Great. Really, just wonderful.
But who to choose? Clearly Voldemort was the best option number one. But who else? Harry looked up from the floor and stared at Death, "Okay. I chose to bring King Agluk, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and Severus Snape back with me,"
Death inclined their head, "What age do you wish to be?"
"Eleven." A thought popped into her head, and she hastily asked, "Can you make sure that Riddle's soul is whole?"
"Indeed, Mistress," Death remarked, sounding slightly offended that Harry would underestimate them.
King Agluk bowed his head to Harry, "I am honored you have chosen me, Heiress Potter-Black,"
Harry smiled slightly, "I chose you because I need access to what's been taken from me,"
King Agluk smiled viciously, "Indeed. I shall enjoy taking Rotgut's head once again,"
Death snorted, "Are you ready, Mistress?"
Harry nodded, inhaling a fortifying breath, "I am," she said.
***
Harry woke with a short, sharp gasp. Then she dissolved into vicious cursing when her head met the stairs above her head. She rubbed at the sore spot and glared around her, cursing the Dursley's and their sadistic treatment of her.
But it had worked. Harry was once again in her eleven-year-old body. Wonderful. She was stick thin, emaciated beyond belief, and covered in bruises and lash marks. Great. Note the sarcasm.
Sighing, Harry turned and peered out the vent into the hallway. Weak, watery dawn light lit up the hallway. She raised a hand and waved it a bit, mumbling, "Tempus," and beamed when the date and time gloated cheerfully in front of her. July 31st, 1991, six thirty-four am.
"Happy birthday to me," she whispered, focusing on the door, "Alohomora,"
Harry grinned when the door opened. She slipped out of her cupboard, making sure to keep an ear out for her relatives, and hurried into the kitchen where she knew Aunt Petunia kept her purse. She dug inside, beaming a little maniacally when she opened the woman's wallet to find a hundred pounds. She grabbed it, then darted back to her cupboard.
King Agluk had told Harry to make her way to the bank immediately upon waking, so that's what she was going to do. Death had explained that they were going to send Agluk and Snape back a few months earlier so they could adjust; Snape in particular. He would be privy to Harry and Deaths conversations and such, but it was up to Harry to persuade the man to her side.
Wow. Come to the dark side, Harry thought mirthfully as she escaped the Dursley household, Hogwarts letter in hand, we have cookies.
Harry snickered, making her way to the bus stop. She had caught plenty of buses on her own in the past - future? - in order to go to the shop for Aunt Petunia. She knew there was a bus at six fifty-two, so sat and waited patiently. She absently wondered if Voldemort was whole again, and if he was okay. It would be one hell of a trip to wake up and have your soul shoved back together and memories that weren't your own floating about your noggin.
The bus came to a squealing stop, and Harry climbed aboard with a sweet smile to the rider. She handed over five of the hundred pounds and grabbed her ticket from the dispenser. The bus would take her to the station, then she had to get a train to London.
The bus ride didn't take long at all, and Harry spent it daydreaming about revenge - but most importantly, finding Remus, freeing Sirius, calling a truce with Voldemort, and bringing down Dumbledore and his sycophants, and saving Mother Magic.