Well here we are! The second new chapter of Hands of Death. I will warn you right now that this is very different from the original. However, I'm of the opinion that it's much better as well.

I hope that you enjoy the update! And for those who have not read the Prologue, I would suggest that you go do so or else you will be horribly confused.


Chapter One

Harry Potter looked around his cupboard and smiled. The Dursley's had moved him back to the cupboard at the beginning of the summer after learning of Sirius' death. It seemed that without the 'insane, mass-murdering godfather' threat hanging over their heads, his relatives decided that Dudley needed his second bedroom more than Harry deserved it.

This suited Harry just fine as he had missed his cupboard. Though he was a bit big for it now, his spiders had been the only friend's he'd had during his childhood and Harry was afraid of what could have happened to them if he wasn't there to keep the Dursley's away from killing them (the old rule was that since Harry lived in the cupboard, it was his job to maintain it). Harry had been relieved to find that they had not bothered cleaning the newly freed cupboard as they fully intended to put him back in it as soon as they were able.

It was only thing Harry had ever been grateful to his relatives for. They could always be counted on for laziness. The spiders had nestled in his hair, greeting him as an old friend. He smiled contently. He would at least be able to say goodbye before he carried out his plan. They were his only true friends.

He had thought, once upon a time, that Ron and Hermione were his friends but he had learned quickly enough that Hermione would abandon him if he showed that he was smart. The same for Ron as the redhead was always too jealous of Harry for his own good. Though he adored them as his first human friends, he knew that it would not last and rejoiced as every new school year started that they had not left him yet.

Now it would not matter, for he would end his abysmal life this very night, on the eve of his birth. A fitting time to die, Harry smiled, as the age of sixteen. He'd have never thought he'd make it to sixteen when he was little; too sure that Vernon would kill him long before his fourteenth year. Only the reason he had escaped that fate was the reprieve he got from the Dursley's every year as he attended Hogwarts.

Harry felt that he would have been better served to have died before fourteen than to be given a glimpse of hope before having that hope denied by the very people that claimed to have his best interests in heart. Dumbledore, he thought bitterly, wanted nothing more than a weapon that could be used against the Dark Lord.

'He should have made sure that I never found out about his little manipulations,' Harry thought smugly. The prophecy claimed that only he, Harry, could kill the Dark Lord Voldemort. If this were true then the Dark would win this war after tonight. 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.' The hand of the other? Well, Harry hoped that killing himself would negate that little problem. The prophecy seemed more self-fulfilling than anything else anyways.

And Harry was tired of being denied the right to live his life his way. If he couldn't live his way, Harry smiled to himself, then he would die his way, and the little razor in his hand would be his ticket to freedom.

He'd even made sure to free Hedwig before returning to the Dursley's, so there was no one he needed to worry about saving to keep him from going through with it. He would be free. Harry would be free from everything.

"Free at last, free at last," Harry sang quietly as he put the razor to his wrist. "Thank god almighty, I'm free." He slashed the wrist before moving to the other. "At." Blood oozed down his arm. "Last."

The world grew foggy as blood pooled around him. He would be seeing his parents soon, if all went well.

Harry Potter lost consciousness with a smile on his lips.

Magic swirled around the young wizard. Fate had planned many things out with her prophecy but she had never seen this coming.

Her Chosen was supposed rid the world of the Dark Lord that was causing problems but as it turned out, it was the Light Lord that was doing the most damage.

Death had been most gleeful to inform her of that as she'd sat comfortably, waiting for her Chosen to fulfill her prophecy. Death had even gifted her Chosen, proclaiming that the boy would become his Master in the future and would need the gift to help him succeed.

Fate was now glad for this gift as she shattered her prophecy months before, declaring it void. Prophecy Balls could only be permanently shattered when the prophecy became void or was fulfilled. Those who studied her hand would know when they attempted to call up the orb in a month's time.

That was not important, she decided. Her dying Chosen was her main concern.

However, Fate knew just what to do. If her Chosen was not going to be saved by those of Light's hand, then she would turn to the Dark to save the Childe.

Death agreed and the two visited the dream of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, known to the world of Life as Lord Voldemort.

Death couldn't help but find this visit more than a bit amusing.

Lord Voldemort was asleep when he heard the call of two voices in his mind. As a Dark Lord his mind was well occluded and it confused him to how anyone had been able to break through his shields.

Confused and enraged him.

"Hush, young one," a feminine voice spoke to him. "We are here not to cause harm, but to seek help. You would do well to listen before you turn us away."

"And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Voldemort hissed, feeling the rush of power against his skin even in sleep. It would not do well to offend these beings. As a true Slytherin, Voldemort was all about self-preservation.

"We are called many things. The Guide," said the female voice.

"The Reaper," said a male voice.

"But you may call use Fate and Death," the female finished.

Fear filled the Dark Lord at the answer. He had spent his life running from Death and to have the entity visit him was terrifying. The Dark Lord kept silent, wondering what they could possibly want from him.

"My Prophecy had been voided, young Dark Lord, for I have seen the way of the Light Lord and I find him to be causing more damage to the balance than I believed you were capable of," Fate whispered softly, mournfully. "My Chosen has been pushed beyond the point of saving, abused and used for the Light's needs. We turn to the Dark to fix balance."

"There must be balance, for without it the world would fall into Chaos." Death spoke in anger. "For this to be avoided, we will offer you two gifts and ask of you one request."

"We return the form of you birth to you," Fate spoke loudly and magic prickled at his skin.

"We return the sanity for which you have brought upon yourself. The Curse of the Unicorns shall never touch your mind again," Death intoned and Voldemort felt his mind return to him. "As for you Horcruxes, I return to you the piece you lost and remove that which clouds my Hallow. You shall have one Horcrux, and one only, in the necklace of your ancestor."

Voldemort felt that this option was better than he could have hoped for, as a Horcrux was a way to escape Death. Slytherin's Locket would be his only Horcrux, so he'd have to retrieve it and double the protections around the item. "What is the favor that you wish of me?" Tom Riddle spoke, leaving the persona of Voldemort behind. There was no need for masks when talking to Fate and Death.

"My Chosen lies dying by his own hand, weary of the life he has led. It is our request of you to save him from himself and those that wish to harm him," Fate intoned formally, magically.

"Tell me his location and I will do as you ask," Tom declared after little thought. The prophecy was no longer in effect which meant that he had nothing to fear by Potter's hand. If saving him was what these two wanted then save him he would.

"The Chosen resides at Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey England. We return you to time, just before he ends his life. Be swift, Dark Lord, for you haven't much time."

And then he awoke. Gathering his magic, Tom Riddle known also as Lord Voldemort Aparated to Privet Drive.

Harry watched as the blood flowed down his arms and pooled to the floor. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, his cupboard door flung open.

Hands, gentle and light, touched his wrists and Harry felt to flow of blood stop. Not knowing why this was happening and mourning the thwarting of his plan, Harry allowed himself to be picked up by the stranger who was not Dumbledore.

Dumbledore would have erased his memory and left him there. Dumbledore smelled forever of Lemons and Lies (something Harry would never be able to understand). This man smelled of Dark and Blood, of Deception and Family.

Harry would never be able to describe it to anyone if asked but the scents soothed his mind and the Chosen of Fate allowed himself to be secreted away by the gentle stranger.

Maybe he was finally being saved. Maybe he would never know the pain of abuse and the hatred of the Dursley's again.

Maybe, just maybe, he could hope again.

A smile curled on the face of Harry Potter as he allowed Darkness to take him

Free at last, free at last. Thank god almighty, he was free…at…last…

Thousands of miles away in the forests of Scotland, a magical device that monitored the wards of Privet Drive shattered into a million pieces, gaining the attention of one Albus Dumbledore.

The device that bound the magic of Harry Potter shattered as well, right before that which bound the Potter boy's magic tightly.

Most disturbingly of all was the shattering of a Prophecy Orb he'd had created in case something happened to the original in the Department of Mysteries.

"This does not bode well, Fawkes," Albus Dumbledore whispered as he picked up a piece of the destroyed orb. "This does not bode well at all. We must go check on Harry. I fear that something has happened to him."

Fawkes sang mournfully while watching his bounded fall further into the insanity that plagued his mind. Not so long ago the man before him had been able to put the needs of other's before what he thought was for the Greater Good. He had been a beacon of hope in the Darkness that threatened to take over.

And his fall had started with a young orphan who lived amongst muggles and knew the horrors that the non-magical could inflict upon the Wizarding World. Fawkes did not know and may not ever know, why the sanity of his bonded began to fail that year but it did not matter. For this was no longer the man that he had respected and bonded to.

Now the Bird of Life could only stay and attempt to stop the damage the fallen man created in his wake. Fate's Chosen was only one manipulation on the once Light Lord's part and Fawkes knew it would not be long before another fell prey to Albus Dumbledore's sights.

Fawkes could only hope that the damage would be small enough for the Phoenix to fix, for if it was not, Chaos would rule the Wizarding World and there would be nothing to stop it from destroying everything.

And that's the end of the new chapter! I hope that you enjoyed it!

Please let me know what you think~