Boredom Is Deadly

*Summary* For Harry, the 'next great adventure' isn't really all that great. After two-thousand years of dealing with the whining souls of the dead, he decides to spice things up a bit…by returning to his first year at Hogwarts. Crackfic! MOD!Harry Darkish!Harry GaryStu!Harry with a twist. NO Bashing!

Warnings

Character Death

Dark Themes

Mild Language

Dark Comedy Moments

This is a crackfic, so do not take it very seriously.

Harry is OOC and unstoppable, due to being the Master of Death. (Hence the story being a crackfic. I find one cannot write a GaryStu! (Brother of Mary Sue) Harry without it being a crackfic, simply because the story could not be taken seriously. However, this story has a major twist, and it is not your normal GaryStu!Harry.)

Pairings

None

*A/N* I've had another plot bunny barge its way into my brain, and it just won't leave me alone. This story is a lot different than anything else I have written, so I hope you all find it enjoyable. There is NO bashing of characters in this story, but I must warn you that Harry enjoys giving our beloved Headmaster a headache. He also likes to make our favorite Potions Master squirm, so don't expect a loving (or even friendly) relationship between the two. As for our lovely Dark Lord, well, let's just say Harry loves to laugh at his expense.

Updates will be slow for this story until Courage and Cunning and Brothers is finished, but you can expect updates to happen every couple of weeks.

With all that said, I hope you give at least the first chapter a chance before you click your back button.

Now…time to start a new adventure!

Boredom Is Deadly

Chapter 1

How NOT To Plan An Alternate Reality

"Oh, oh I was a Paranormal Investigator in life! Can I please, please go back as a ghost!?" The young, brown haired girl begged with wide eyes, as she stared at the black robed figure in front of her.

"No." Harry replied in a monotone voice, as he sighed heavily and shifted around in his large black throne.

"Please!? I wasn't ready to die!" She said stomping her feet. "I was happy, full of life, and looking to prove that there is an afterlife! This is the perfect opportunity for me!"

"No."

"Damn you!" The girl screamed. "I wasn't ready to die! I had my whole life ahead of…"

"Then you shouldn't have been trying to put on lipstick while driving!" Harry snapped, as he rested his pointer finger against his temple. "It's your own damn fault for causing the car accident, and I, for one, don't feel sorry for you. Now, off you go."

"NOOOO!" The girl cried, as Harry, with a wave of his hand, sent the soul forcibly flying through the open door that stood on the front left side of the room.

He sighed again and rolled his eyes. "NEXT!" He bellowed, but looked up sharply as a middle aged man appeared before him.

"Is this hell? Are you Satan?" The man asked nervously as he twisted his hands together. The man tried to peer into the four open doors that stood in each corner of the room, but he couldn't see anything except a bright light coming from them.

Harry smiled slightly, but shook his head. "No. I'm just Death, and I sort souls based on whether or not they are muggles, witches and wizards, magical creatures, or normal animals. What happens to you when you walk through the door is completely out of my hands."

The man nodded nervously, but looked at the black robed, green eyed, messy haired man in front of him. "It wasn't my fault. I tried everything to save them."

"I know." Harry said with a sympathetic nod. "Rouge waves are an unexpected hazard one doesn't think about on a deep sea fishing trip, but you did the best you could to save the lives of your friends. They don't hold their deaths against you. However, I'm pleased to inform you that your teenaged son survived the ordeal, and he has since been picked up by the U.S. Navy. He is now safe, and your wife is grateful for the small miracle. They are both sad because of your passing, but they will carry on and heal with time."

The man choked back a sob, but a tear escape and slid down his cheek. "Thank you for telling me that. My son wanted to go on one last fishing trip before he went off to college." He whispered.

"I know, and you're welcome." Harry said gently, and softly motioned for the man to enter the door on the front left side of the room.

Once the soul had disappeared through the door, Harry stood up, yawned, stretched, and walked over to the whiskey cabinet to pour himself a drink. Between an earthquake in Australia, a flash flood in China, and a tornado in Oklahoma, he had had a very busy day.

As the illusion in the room fell away, Harry sighed and walked over to the large leather sofa that appeared, and sat down with an ungraceful flop. The house that he lived in was a mirror image of Grimmauld Place, only it was much nicer than it had been when he was a teenager. In fact, it still looked exactly like it had when he and Ginny remodeled it after they had gotten married.

However, that had been a long time ago.

It had been nearly two-thousand years since then, and while this Grimmauld Place wasn't really the same house, it felt comfortable, homey, and familiar to him. This Grimmauld Place was not situated in London though, instead, it was in what Harry called 'The Void' - the place between Limbo and the afterlife.

The blackness of The Void outside the front door and windows was very depressing, but slightly entertaining in a way. Random objects floated outside his windows as far as the eye could see, and it had only taken him a short while to figure out that these random objects were things that had been vanished by witches and wizards on Earth. He had tried to open a window one time and grab a beautiful painting of a green meadow with flowers to help brighten the place up, but opening the window created a vacuum and it nearly sucked him out. After that, Harry had given up. There was nothing Harry could do to change his depressing surroundings, and The Void only made the boredom that much worse.

Yes, Harry James Potter, Master of Death, Death, The Scythe Wielding Madman, the Black Robed Demon, and whatever other name history had given him - was bored.

He couldn't visit his family and friends in the afterlife, and the total lack of real entertainment was simply horrible. There were no movies, TV shows, or music, so there was nothing really to enjoy. There were books, both magical and muggle that he could read, but Harry had never been much of a reader in life. He did sometimes study things that mildly interested him, but being the Master of Death, he pretty much knew everything anyway, so it always ended up a waste of time.

When he wasn't sorting souls, Harry would often pass the time by thinking about his life. Aside from all the hell he'd been through in his youth, he had really enjoyed how his life had turned out. He married his beautiful wife Ginny, had children, who in turn gave him grandchildren and great grandchildren. When he took his last dying breath at the age of one-hundred and twenty, he remembered telling his whole family, who was crowded around his bedside, that he loved them and would see them again someday.

If only he knew then…

Turns out that Dumbledore was a barmy old bastard who had set him up, but in a good way…sort of. Dumbledore had no idea what he was really doing when he set Harry up as master of the elder wand and gave him control of the resurrection stone, but Harry didn't either, until he died.

When he died, Harry was met by the very ecstatic black robed, skeletal figure we have all come to know as Death. Death, who was dancing around like a child on a sugar high, greeted Harry enthusiastically, handed over his scythe, told Harry about his new 'job', and whistled a tune as he left through the door on the right front side of the room. Harry, who could only watch the immortal being go about his merry way in confusion, stood there wondering what in the hell was happening, but it wasn't long until he figured out what he had to do.

He had to sort souls based upon what they were. Muggles went through the door on the front left side of the room, witches and wizards went through the front right door, normal animals went through the back left door, and magical creatures were sorted through the back right door.

While it wasn't a very complicated job, sorting muggles and normal animals was dreadfully boring, and unfortunately, there were more of them than there were witches and wizards. Harry knew all about the soul's life and death upon arrival, and while some of the muggle souls were interesting, most were mundane. Sorting famous muggle people was always a chore though, because they always had their excuses and wanted to 'go back', but Harry only laughed and shunted them off to the afterlife without a second thought.

Witches, wizards, and magical creatures were a bit more interesting though, because they really didn't have an afterlife. They actually had a chance to have a 'next great adventure', and Harry could send them back in whatever form he, or they, wanted.

What was interesting about it, was the fact that this new 'form' could be either an animate or inanimate object.

Harry took great pleasure in sending his former enemies back as degrading and humiliating things, and he couldn't count the number of times he sent Draco Malfoy back as a rubbish bag. Of course, magical souls who ended up as disposable things usually ended up back to Harry pretty quickly, but this only happened when the living muggle humans had no more use for them, and sent them off to the landfills.

Most magical beings wished to return to life as they had been, but some wanted an entirely different life. They never kept their memories after they were sent back, but they did regain all the memories of their past lives upon death.

Wizards like Arthur Weasley often chose different life scenarios. The last few times Harry met Arthur, the muggle happy wizard wanted to actually live life as a completely normal muggle man, so Harry happily sent him back as a farmer living in the Southeast United States. Upon his next death, Arthur had been thrilled and decided that he wanted to spend his next great adventure as a piece of cotton. He hadn't been nearly as enthusiastic about that upon his next return. Apparently going through life as a T-shirt, which ended up being used as an emergency makeshift baby diaper, wasn't all that exciting, so Arthur had opted for a normal life as a wizard again, which Harry found extremely funny.

Ginny wanted to kill him when he sent her back as a Las Vegas showgirl one time, and his Mum, Lily, gave him an earful when she realized she had spent one of her lives as an actual lily. Lily wasn't all that mad though. She had been picked out of a garden and given to a sweet little old lady as an 'I love you gift' from the lady's husband.

Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

Just like everyone he had met in life, Harry had come across Dumbledore's soul on more than a few occasions, and once Dumbledore learned exactly what he did to Harry, he could only apologize profusely. Harry, for his part, forgave him, but not before sending his old Headmaster back as a wool sock, which was chewed beyond repair by an overzealous puppy. Dumbledore laughed about it when he returned, but they talked for a good length of time before Harry sent the old man onto another great adventure.

Harry actually found out that Dumbledore was really Godric Gryffindor in a former life, while Gellert Grindelwald had been Salazar Slytherin. Gryffindor and Slytherin had been best friends at one time, but had a falling out later in life which caused Slytherin to leave Hogwarts. Given Dumbledore's personality and what he knew of Grindelwald, Harry was shocked, but he really wasn't all that surprised.

As for Harry himself, he was considered a 'new soul'. Upon his birth and death, it was the first time he had gone through life, and truth be told, he was a little miffed about the whole thing. New souls were quite common with both muggles and magical people, so he wasn't odd or abnormal in that aspect, but it was the simple fact that he had not been given the chance to have his own 'next great adventure'.

Most of his friends and family thought being Death was an excellent next great adventure, but only because they weren't the ones having to sit on the Black Throne of Death and do the mindless, boring task of sorting souls.

Harry desperately needed some excitement in his life, but what could he do? The first Death told him that he couldn't just rewind time and go back to change things. He had to actually create a whole different reality, and that caused a major backlog of all the souls who needed to be sorted upon his return. Of course, he could always return to The Void each night to do the sorting and eliminate the backlog, but did he really want to return each night? Could he sort the souls of the present, in the days of Earth's alternate past?

Harry jumped up from the couch, ran into the library, grabbed the rulebook from the bookcase, and began earnestly leafing through it. When he came to the right spot, his eyes flew down the page, and he grinned wickedly.

Yes he could!

It was complicated though, because rewinding time wasn't as simple as saying, 'hey I want to go back to such and such a year'. He would need to create an alternate reality, and in order to do that, Harry would need to rip the souls of all his friends, family, acquaintances, and pretty much anyone who had lived, even if he hadn't known them personally, from the present and send them back into their bodies of the past.

Harry grinned at the thought of his own little 'playground'. He could cause as much mayhem, destruction, and death as he wanted, and none of his actions would affect the present 'real' reality.

It was probably why he had to create the alternate reality in the first place, but it was of no matter to Harry. He could do what he wanted to do, and no one could stop him. His friends and family would probably kill him when they died in this alternate reality, because they would remember both worlds, and he would likely get chewed out by the great Albus Dumbledore, but he didn't care.

He was bored, and desperately needed something to do.

The only thing he could not do though, was 'pass the torch' so to speak. Since this was only an alternate reality, he would remain the Master of Death. One cannot just give the title away by rewinding time and creating alternate realities.

Not that he'd want to really. He actually liked being the Master of Death, he just hated the boredom that came with it.

"POTTER!"

Harry's head snapped up and spotted a soul standing in the middle of his library, glaring at him, and covered in white sticky glue. He grinned, placed the rulebook down on the table, and slowly approached it.

"Tom." He snorted.

"I hate you Potter. I really, really hate you."

Harry burst out laughing. "Well, I wasn't expecting another soul this late into my evening, but I'm always happy to make exceptions for friends."

Tom Riddle glared at Harry some more, but then he sighed in defeat and plopped down in a nearby chair.

"They killed me. Those terrible little monsters killed me. They put rat poison in my coffee, and just as I was taking my last breath, those horrible creatures covered me with glue!" Tom ranted.

"Rat poison, it's a nasty invention." Harry agreed as he nodded.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Tom roared, only to be met with more laughter.

"How's running a muggle daycare working for you?" Harry chuckled as he vanished the glue, and poured himself, and his guest, a glass of whiskey.

Tom took the offered drink with a glare, but drank it down in one smooth gulp. "That was worse than the time you sent me back as a touch lamp." He grumbled.

"I'm just doing my duty."

"You placed me in a muggle nursing home!"

"Well, no one's perfect." Harry said offhandedly as Tom glared at him some more. "You're lucky I even took pity on you. If I hadn't put your soul back together, you'd still be floating around in Limbo."

"Yes, I suppose I should be grateful, but really Potter, a daycare operator?"

Harry burst out laughing again. "It seemed fitting. After all, you did want to be a Professor once upon a time."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Only so that I could recruit Death Eaters under Dumbledore's nose, but the old man denied me of that."

"Yes, then you threw a temper tantrum and started a war." Harry dryly pointed out, causing Tom to shrug.

"I've grown out of that in the last two-thousand years, and have come to the conclusion that I may have been a little…insane…at the time. Although, I do have to admit that during my stays here in The Void, I often contemplate on what I could have done differently." He sighed, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow at him.

"What would you have done differently?" He asked curiously.

"I don't know, lots of stuff, but I guess it's neither here nor there." Tom replied as he stood up. "Alright, so what hell will you place upon me this time?" He asked, looking slightly depressed.

Harry took a good long look at Tom, and an idea began to form in his mind. The man looked like an older version of the sixteen year old boy he had seen in the Chamber of Secrets that fateful day at the end of his second year, but he never understood why. In fact, all the souls of the ones he knew in life looked just as they did when he knew them. Harry really wasn't sure if this was just his way of being able to tell the souls of his friends, family, enemies, and acquaintances apart, or if it was how they looked in every life he sent them too, but he really never paid that much attention to it.

Nor did he really care.

However, he stood up and smiled at the former Dark Lord that had caused him so much hell, and threw his arms around the stunned man's shoulders.

Bygones and all that…

"Actually Tom, I'm planning something big, and maybe you can help me. I want to create an alternate reality, which will send us back to the year 1991." Harry said, looking at Tom with a grin.

"Your first year of Hogwarts?" Tom asked, looking at him in surprise.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and poured them another glass of whiskey. "Sure. I'm bored and desperately need something to do, and I figure that's a good place to start. The problem is, I have to rip everyone's soul from their current lives in order to create this alternate reality."

Tom stared at him with wide eyes. "Everyone?"

"Everyone." Harry confirmed. "Even people I didn't know in life."

"And you want my help?" Tom asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yes, I do, and think about this Tom, we will be back in a world where people actually talk to each other again." Harry said with a big grin.

Tom's eyes widened in shock. "Yes, I hadn't thought about that. With the invention of text messaging and its explosion in popularity in the early 21st century, the spoken language has completely died out. In fact, since humans never use their vocal cords anymore, the process of evolution has done away with them entirely."

"Yes I know. The only time someone can speak nowadays is when they die." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "And even then they still use wild hand gesturing to communicate what they are trying to say. It's funny though, because the souls of the dead also try to reach for their phones while witches and wizards reach for their wands."

"It's all the muggle teenagers' fault you know." Tom said, waggling his finger at Harry. "If they would have actually talked to one another, instead of texting, even when they were sitting right next to each other, this wouldn't have happened and we would still have our vocal cords. Can we fix that by doing this alternate reality thing?" Tom asked hopefully.

Harry shook his head sadly. "No, unfortunately not. This is only an alternate reality. Whatever changes we make in it will not affect real reality."

"Damn." Tom said softly. "But it will be nice to hear people's voices again, and not have to deal with wild hand gesturing."

"Yes, I do have to agree with that." Harry nodded.

"But Potter, wait a minute. If nothing changes in real reality, what will happen when all the souls of witches and wizards get jerked out of the world and placed into your alternate reality, and what of the muggles from that time?" Tom asked, looking at his favorite frememy.

"Muggles are actually crafty at explaining away such oddities, so they will probably say it was a zombie apocalypse or something, only the 'zombies' won't be eating human flesh or any other such nonsense. They will only be wandering around aimlessly until I put their souls back into their 'real reality' bodies, or until those bodies die naturally." Harry shrugged. "As for the muggles of the time, since they are already dead and in the afterlife, I'll just recall their souls and place them back into the lives they were leading at the time. It's not a big deal really."

Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry, but shrugged again and sighed. "So what do you need my help with?"

"Planning, and if you do a good enough job, I might let you kill me this time." Harry grinned.

Tom's eyes widened in shock once more. "Really?"

"I said 'might'." Harry grinned, causing Tom's eyes to narrow immediately.

"And if I refuse to help you?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"I'll send you back as toilet paper."

"So, when do we start!?" Tom cried, jumping out of his seat while glancing around wildly.

Harry burst out laughing. "Right away. I can only allow a soul to hang around in The Void for twenty-four Earth hours before I have to send them on, but if we can get most of the alternate reality created in enough time, I can just take you there myself."

"Will I have my memories?" Tom asked hopefully.

"You know what? I think I will let you keep them as a thank you for helping me." Harry replied with a grin, as Tom eyed him suspiciously.

"I don't know whether I should believe you or not Potter, but let's just get this done. I'll require another glass of fire whiskey though."

"Instead of just a glass, maybe a few bottles will help us get this done faster." Harry said as he waved his hand around.

Many bottles of fire whiskey appeared on the large table, and Harry gave Tom a list of things to plan, along with bunch of charmed pieces of parchment. These pieces of parchment gave Tom the power to create whatever he wanted from the provided list, and all Harry had to do was wave his hand in order to approve them.

He didn't even have to check them over in order to do so.

As for himself, Harry sat down and just began scribbling down things that could give him some sort of an idea on how to carry out this undertaking. He knew he wanted the world to be as close to the original one as possible, but he didn't really care about the details. He just wanted to toss the whole alternate reality up in the air, and let the chips fall where they may.

Tom on the other hand, settled down and, for once, began planning his own 'next great adventure' with much enthusiasm.

He'd be damned if he was going to let Potter send him back as a piece of toilet paper.

Gong!

Gong!

GONG!

"What!" Harry cried, jerking awake as he sat bolt upright in his comfy library chair.

"Potter, what is that infernal…"

"Oh crap!" Harry shouted, leaping out of his seat and looking around wildly. "Tom, Tom, TOM! Get up! We got drunk and over slept! Have you finished your list?"

"Stop shouting at me!" Tom snapped, as he rubbed his forehead and wiped the drool off his chin. "I have a major hangover. I think I drank too much…"

"Shut up and just give me what you have. That gong sound means we only have five minutes left of our twenty-four hours. Are you…"

Harry didn't get to finish, because Tom stood up so suddenly that he became dizzy and threw up everywhere. With an impatient wave of his hand to clear up the mess, Harry accidentally vanished not only the throw up, but also some of the parchment they had used to plan out the alternate reality.

They stared at each other in dismay.

"Which pieces of parchment were those!?" Tom asked frantically.

"I don't know, but there is no time to figure it out. I have to get you out of here now, or else I'll be forced to send you back and you won't retain your memories."

"But what happens if they were important?" Tom asked, trying in vain to ruffle through the stack of parchment in order to figure out what had been vanished.

"The world itself will make up the difference and fill in the blanks. Now, let's just go." Harry said, placing his hand on the large stack of parchment in order to approve the changes.

"Um, Potter?" Tom said, after the stack of parchment disappeared in a brilliant flash of white light.

"What?"

"I just caught a glimpse of something very disturbing." Tom said hesitantly.

"What?" Harry repeated with wide eyes.

"The sorting hat has been replaced with a pink and black polka dotted tea kettle, and it was written in your hand writing."

They both glanced at each other in horror, and slowly turned around to eye all of the many empty bottles of fire whiskey…and gulped.

"Well, I wanted exciting, I guess I'm going to get it." Harry said with a nervous laugh. "Because I can't even remember what else I changed."

Because he was still a bit drunk, Tom snorted loudly. "Imagine what else will be different." He said with a wicked grin. "Because I also can't remember what all I changed."

"I guess we are about to find out. We gotta go!" Harry cried, just as the gong rang again, signaling the one minute warning.

He grabbed Tom's arm, then they both disappeared in a wispy puff of black smoke, and headed off to an alternate 1991.