Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


"I promise you this is not the end. You will live once more."

"I'm scared, father. I don't want to die."

"You won't. It will be like going to sleep. A very long sleep. But eventually you will wake up and have a new life. A life where you can fulfil your dreams, find a woman to marry, found a family and have children. A life where you can live. The life you should have had."

"But it will be without you. Without mother. Without my brother and my uncles. I will be alone."

"Yes, you will. But this is the only way for you to live. Without us." A pause. "You will have a new family then. Many generations past us. A new mother, a new father, maybe new siblings."

"I don't want them. I want you."

"I'm afraid this is the only chance I can offer you. A new life in a different time." Another pause. "It is time. We cannot wait longer. Farewell, my son. You won't be forgotten."

"Farewell, father. Tell mother and my brother that..."

"I know. I will."

With that the voice of his father vanished from his mind. He was alone once more. It would not be long anymore before he met death. Strangely his fear had gone, being replaced by a strange calmness.

This was his end. He knew it. Whatever his father claimed you could not cheat death. Even as a necromancer death remained their master. Still there was a glimmer of hope left in him. A will to live. Buried beneath all his resignation. But still there. Still burning.

He wanted to have a life. Wanted to become a necromancer, join their guild like his father and uncles had done. He wanted... a great many things. Foremost he wanted his life. But if he could not have it he would take the next best thing. Another life in a different time. Generations past his own. Living in a family of his own line but still so far removed from his current one.

It was a chance his father said. Well, he would take it. If nothing else he still had an opportunity to found his own family.

But his mother would not be there to tell him he had chosen a good bride, would not be there to smile at her first grandchild. His father would not congratulate him for his first son, for continuing the family line, their traditions. No, they would not be there. Another family would be there. Stealing their place. Sharing these moments with him which his own parents would never be able to see. It would break his mother's heart he knew it. But then again, it probably was already broken. After all, he was as good as dead. Whether he died here or his father managed to save him he would not see his mother ever again.

The pain started suddenly. It was a soul-wrenching pain. He convulsed on the bare stone floor trying with all his might not to scream, not to give himself away to his captors. It felt like molten lava was surging through his veins, burning every nerve ending he had, leaving only pain behind. Then the tugging on his soul started like some invisible force tried to separate his soul from his body. He screamed. He heard his captors running to his cell but it was too late. With a final pull his soul left his body and his world turned dark.