Put my Galleons on That One



"An alternate dimension?" Harry raised a brow, arms folded across his chest as he offered Death a half-hearted glare. Life had passed by and Harry Potter had found himself back in the white walls of Kings Cross station after his death. His own personal purgatory.

Death, standing almost four feet taller than Harry in its true form, gave a solemn nod that expressed nothing that Harry actually wished to know.

"What would be different from my own dimension? Why give me this chance?"

The raspy wheeze of Death drawing in a breath speak was the only sound for a moment, and Harry waited patiently.

"A few things. There will be changes, some good, some bad. I shall even drop you somewhere prosperous for your life over there. It was this, or have you reborn again and again in your own world, just at different times. Death is an eternity, and you are its master. A master can never be harmed by their servant, it is not the way of things. But the balance, it must be maintained. No one can live forever, only extend their lives." So, Death could not harm him, could not take him as it had done every other person in his life?

"So I can choose?"

Death made a low humming sound in the back of its throat -did it have a throat?- and Harry took that for confirmation. The first thing that jumped out at him was the fact he could save everyone if he was reborn in his own world, but something made him stop. Just a second, but he still stopped.

Maybe, maybe he should try the alternate dimension thing. It didn't sound boring at least.

Tilting his head to a side, Harry examined the figure before him, worrying his lip back and forth for a few moments and then giving a shallow nod.

"Sure, why not? Something different sounds good to be honest."

Albus Dumbledore rubbed wearily at his forehead, trying not to worry another set of lines into his brow as he did so. His latest divination potential professor seemed to be a bust too, but she was the last one he had time to see before the new school year. The appointment had been made earlier, but the day he was suppose to meet her, the elder wand had gone missing.

Now it was late August 1980 and he still didn't have a divination professor, and that didn't seem like it was going to change anytime soon. Perhaps he had to get in contact with Miss Delphian and say that she had been the best for the job after all.

Before he could consider it though, something changed. It was in the atmosphere of the room, and Albus Dumbledore looked over at the interviewee, one Sybill Trelawney. She had gone stiff, her eyes bulging wide and there was an air about her that left him ill at ease.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has arrived. Born as the treasured month dies, born of gifter's goal, tired and weary soul. Stick stone and cloak on call, Dark Lord should fear him above all... The one with the power to vanquish has arrived, born as the treasured month dies."

His heart had stopped for a second as Trelawney drew in a shaky breath. The atmosphere was gone, but the words, no, the words remained. Springing to his feet and feeling years younger, Dumbledore offered his hand to the woman.

"Welcome to Hogwarts Professor Trelawney." He had so much to think about right now, but first thing first.

Time to dissect that prophecy.

Watching the brown haired boy toddle though the living room, Nicholas Flamel couldn't kill the smile on his face even if he wanted to.

For years, decades, hell, even centuries, both himself and Perenelle had talked about children. Had tired for children. But it had never happened, they'd never been blessed for that. The heart-break over that fact had withered and died long ago.

And then in the early months of 1977, a miracle happened. Perenelle was pregnant.

The philosophers stone had frozen their appearance, so that they appeared no older than forty, it also kept the both of them physically healthy, if apparently, infertile.

But no more.

While it hadn't been easy, Perenelle had carried to term, and late on the night of October 31st, 1977, their first and only son had been born.

Ignotus Nicholas Flamel.

Perenelle had been moaning for the past few months that he'd ended up looking exactly like his father, but he knew she was secretly pleased as punch over that. In addition to the fact he'd gotten her brilliant blue eyes.

And now, approaching Ignotus' third birthday as they were, Nicholas could not feel any happier. Their little boy was incredibly intelligent, frighteningly so. He'd already done a few tests to see if it was a result of elixir exposure while Ignotus had been in the womb, but the results were so far, inconclusive.

There was the additional fact that when they'd dared to take their little boy out into a nearby muggle village, he'd picked up a small bracelet from somewhere. Perenelle had enchanted it to grow accordingly alongside Ignotus, but that wasn't what worried him.

It was the symbol, the symbol of those 'Deathly Hallows' that had his stomach clenching up.

But Ignotus seemed rather attached to the symbol, refused to let them take the bracelet back. As it had come with no magic when Ignotus presented it to them, he'd not said anything, only watched as his son ran his pudgy fingers down the wooden carving before continuing about his day.

Currently, he'd sat himself down on the floor as was colouring away at something, tongue sticking out his mouth in a show of childish concentration.

Yes, his son was a bit odd compared to every other child he'd ever seen. His accidental magic was too strong, his intelligence seemingly too high.

But Nicholas wouldn't have it any other way.

So yeah. This is going to be like 'Time to Put Your Galleons Where Your Mouth Is', only instead of Harry being reborn in a different time he's in an AU. So there'll be some key differences in comparison, but I guess you'll see what happens when I next update.


A tired uni student,