Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that would be JK Rowling.
Harry sighed, looked down from the astronomy tower at Hogwarts, and wondered once more how things turned out the way they did. How exactly did they get here from there? He shook off his melancholy and used the marauder's map to check his patrol section for the night. A single glance was all it took to ensure no one was out of bounds.
Harry was rather pleased with how smoothly things were running, even if it did give him far too much time to brood. Brooding really didn't suit him, sure he was good at it, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. Still, despite his best efforts he found himself brooding on past events and wondering how they had led to this. All the evidence was so contradictory he couldn't even decide if Dumbledore had been a grand manipulator or a lucky fool. Well at least Harry could comfort himself with the knowledge that Snape, no matter which side he was working for, was really an arsehat.
Seriously, Harry knew Snape better than even Snape knew himself thanks to his little brain dump at the end. If Snape hadn't wanted Harry to know his every little secret he should have been more careful and not pulled a Lockhart on himself. Originally Harry had just wanted to know if Snape had faked that memory of Harry's father or not, but the lure of knowing everything a fully trained wizard and talented dark arts practitioner knew before he had to face Voldemort had been irresistible.
Harry had done something dangerously stupid, not that he hadn't done dangerously stupid things before (or since, for that matter), he had poured all of Snape's memories straight into his own head. That had not been a fun half hour… half a century. Turns out Snape knew nothing about teaching occlumency, as he'd cheated and used a spell to give him his much lauded skill. Of course the reason that spell had rarely been used was because of the possible side effects, namely insanity, blindness, death.
The older you were the more likely you were to blow out a lobe. Snape had gotten lucky and survived fourteen years of memories with everything intact, mostly. Harry had survived over a hundred combined years thanks to… well something, it's not like Harry was short on possibilities. His mother's sacrifice, the prophecy…
"Being the master of Death, after all you were the true master of the wand and owned the other two items, whether you knew it or not," Luna said.
"Very true," Harry agreed, not surprised the occlumency was useless against Luna or that she'd decided to pop up on top of the astronomy tower without him noticing her approach.
"If you're really curious on how things could have turned out differently you could take the place of one of your dead alternates," Luna suggested.
"Pardon?" Harry asked.
"You're the Master of Death," Luna pointed out. "That means more than just a nifty title. You can take the place of one of the infinite alternate versions of you that have passed on."
"You mean like alternate realities?"
"Exactly," Luna agreed. "Simply concentrate on your connection to the Hallows and feel for the life you want and then decide to make the switch."
Harry wondered if it could truly be that easy as he closed his eyes and imagined it his form fading into a ghostly outline before flickering out.
Lune stared wide eyed. "But… I was just fucking with you!"
Typed by: Bankrupt Samurai