Turned off anonymous reviews because people are dumbasses and aren't smart enough to realize this fic hasn't been updated in like 5 years and keep telling me about how much of an attention seeking whore I am. Apparently they're retarded, and then it's all anonymous because they're too cowardly to login and give me the ability to kindly and patiently respond to their review. If you want to know what I think, I think you can all collectively kill yourselves if you're too much of a pussy to face me without the barrier of anonymous reviewing. If you have a problem with this fic, then awesome! I do, too. The story is still up for archival purposes so stop spamming me hate because the more you spam, the more I lose faith in collective human intelligence.
As always, I will start out with a question of relevance to the story. You can see it right after the author's note which ends at the line break.
My main characters don't always win. The characters you love will sometimes turn evil, and the characters you hate will sometimes become the greatest thing to hit the earth. I don't do comics with the underdog winning. I don't do action films where the antagonist is inches away from winning, and then the protagonist comes in in the last minute to grab victory in the jaws of defeat.
I do unrequited love. I do pain and hatred. I do psychotic and suicidal people. I do hatred and love and emotions that clash in painful ways. I do pain, repentance, and death. My ultimate plan is to create a new philosophical outlook at life and the world it encompasses. If you read, don't hate me for making a realistic world full of death. Expect the most humane characters to be dark, and the deadliest and vilest characters to be the ones you root for. With me, expect the world to split apart, and everybody to die suddenly and painfully. Expect anything and everything.
And don't worry. Not everything is bad. Many things are good, and there is comedy stuffed into little snippets. Once I seriously bring the aspects of death in, there will be plenty of comedy and humor. But this story WILL-FOCUS-ON-HARRY'S-WEAKNESSES. That means the process of memory and hopelessness. It means focusing on Harry's beliefs and thoughts on humanity and humility.
One last thing of note, is that I appreciate reviews greatly. Don't spout shit about how bad my story is without good reason, though. If it's personal preference, such as 'he's too overpowered', then go fuck yourself. I love reviews that actually point out FLAWS. Any help with plot holes would be nice, too. Other than that, I don't plan on updating until I have at least ten reviews. So hurry it up with the "Cool. Update soon"s and the "Um, but you said something else there and it doesn't make sense"s. Got it? Good.
What would happen if somebody were to banish another human?
The answer would normally be answered as nothing. It was the truth; lay out on a silver platter. What resides on the golden platter, then? Endless possibilities…The knowledge of alternate realities and planets nothing like our own… This was found out by one Harry Potter in an un-inane accident.
Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Grand-Legendary-Sorcerer, Master of Death, immortal godlike being, The Harbinger of Peace, the Wolf of Destruction, (skip this if you must) Headmaster of Hogwarts, Minister of Magic, Head Auror, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Don't ask how he filled all of the positions at once; just use some of your unimaginative imaginations.
This story doesn't start with any dwarfs or fake magicians, but instead with what we would know as an ancient man who looked like he was still eighteen.
It all started when Harry Potter found the three 'Deathly Hallows', or as some might know (or not know in Harry's case), the Elder Wand, the Cloak of Invisibility, and the Stone of Resurrection.
The Elder Wand could kill anything; power unmatched…
The cloak of invisibility could hide somebody from death indefinitely and forever…
The Stone of Resurrection could revive any dead…
Their powers were magnified once a person had acquired all three, meaning that the person simply couldn't die, for one. They could also kill just by touch, spread deadly disease, and revive, truly revive under their control, an undead army. Harry just seemed to be in the crossfire.
So, after Voldemort's timely end came about, Harry was worshipped as a hero. He joined the Auror Corps; they quickly scooped him up for their division and Harry rose to the top in record time. More boring shit happened, and Harry soon got bored of his position. He quit officially, but as soon as another 'dark lord' came about, he was recruited right back in. This went on for a while, dark lords coming and dying at Harry's hand. If he didn't willingly fight, he was drafted to the position. Soon, he was forced into the position of Minister of Magic by popular appeal. He could do no wrong. He was the perfect person. Everybody loved him, and worshipped the ground he stood on, the chairs he sat on, and the toilets he shat in.
This somehow spread to other countries and by his thirtieth birthday if he wanted to, he could ask the other leaders to hand the world over to him and they would comply. The corrupt, the evil, and the idiots; they all loved him. He didn't even know why (and when he pondered, he always came to the conclusion of not really wanting to know). Blind faith went a long way.
When Harry turned fifty, he realized that he actually wasn't aging. At first, he simply assumed that he hit some sort of stunt in growth after his great growth spurt, but that apparently wasn't the case. His immediate assumption was the DeathlyHallows (which kept finding him every time he threw them away) and tried to destroy them; again…
Of course, he loved having power. Power meant no bad guys, and no bad guys meant peace. But they were too dangerous for somebody to get a hold of, so he attempted to incinerate them, crush them, bury them, choke them, hang them, and even try to chew them to death, but nothing worked. The Hallows always somehow came back to him (and it was always when he wasn't looking. Those things sometimes scared the crap out of him).
Other people were noticing it, too, and a small cult was organizing around him bent on peace through fear. The worst part was that whenever he said anything to them, they would interpret it wrong and end up doing something really crazy.
Humans were stupid…
The next question to figure out was when Harry started to refer to people as if he wasn't one. Too much thinking…
The day came when he decided it was time to retire and take a less strenuous position, and became headmaster of Hogwarts. Of course, it was easy as cake, and all he had to do was ask the current headmistress Professor Norkort to step down. Everybody listened to him. It was almost aggravating, because he couldn't have a good discussion or conversation anymore. Ron had died very painfully from the second dark lord after Voldemort and Hermione was always busy (she refused to take the money he offered her), saying something like "The good of the people is at stake".
It was so utterly boring.
Years went by, and Harry delved into all of the aspects of magic. He learned all he could about everything; just to be ready for any unexpected happenings. You never know what could happen in a world like the one he lived in. In another fifty years, he decided to retire from being headmaster and began to think about finally ending his appropriately long life. He had already mastered charms, transfiguration, potions (thought that was a hard ass one to master), 'light arts', dark arts, arcane arts, mind arts, runes, just about everything else, and was even beginning his own line of magical arts that involve the addition of physical energy to the mental energy magic consisted of. He had written books about it, so it would be passed on, and he had nothing left to live for.
Because of his tremendously great luck, he managed to avoid getting any mortal wounds in his lifetime, and found that his smaller ones healed really fast. His logical conclusion was that he couldn't die normally, but he decided to try anyway. He took a knife at the age of 135 and stabbed himself up through the neck and into the brain.
An in-depth version of the experience would be documented as:
Harry Potter, age 135 in years (not seconds, not minutes, and thankfully not decades), had had enough with life and wanted to move on. He was sitting in his kitchen, trying to ignore the zealots outside his house asking for enlightenment and slightly succeeding, thinking about what he could do to actually die. Because he had stopped aging, he figured that he couldn't die from age or disease. His cuts healed at an insanely fast rate, so he presumed that he couldn't die from getting hurt. Maybe if he tried to separate his soul from his body and send it to the afterlife? But that would take years!
Absently, he reached over and grabbed a knife. "What the hell, couldn't hurt to try."
With a fast stab upwards, he cut through the bottom of his chin and right into his head so fast that pain didn't even register. His body fell, and blackness met him.
The blackness of eternal sleep…
Harry opened his eyes and only saw black; black everywhere. For a moment, he wondered how he was standing, but then realized that dead people didn't have any legs. In fact, how was he even conscious? Wasn't death supposed to be the end? Eh, too much thinking. Maybe there was an afterlife. After all, how would his parents have helped him when he fought Voldemort after the Triwizard Tournament? So, when was he going to see them?
"Well, at least I'm dead."
"Yes, you're dead. Your body is, anyways." The new voice sounded familiar…
Harry turned and looked at where the new voice came from and saw, floating in the air, in all of his evil and terrible glory, Voldemort. The snake…thing…was wearing a black robe with a hood that suited him well and was seen carrying a very rotted broom with a scythe-like blade extending from the side. Harry couldn't help it; he burst out laughing.
"You- you're death!? This has to be some sort of ironic joke! How the hell did that happen!?"
Voldemort did not look amused. "I'm not the true death. I am simply an aspect of the greater picture. I'm the aspect of immortality, representing the one you believed came closest to it. I've been sent because I'm a 'familiar face' as they put it. I'm here to welcome you."
"Why would you welcome me? Shouldn't I just go to, I don't know, where my family is or something?" Harry was having a bit of trouble keeping his giggle out of the conversation.
"You're the Master of Death. It wouldn't look good if death's master wasn't welcomed. You can do whatever you want now. I don't care."
Voldemort rolled his eyes and turned away. He began to walk off into oblivion until he was stopped by one last question.
"So, Master of Death is a job? What do I have to do? Where would I work?"
Voldemort turned. "You don't have to do anything. If you want to work, make a desk or something; I don't care. If I never have to see you again, I'd be fine with that." And he disappeared.
Harry shrugged and turned, but then realized he didn't have any body and started thinking about how he could see if he didn't have any eyes. After five minutes of thinking, he pondered the motion of shrugging without any shoulders, and then shrugged again. Very suddenly his eyes snapped open.
"Wait a second. If I don't have any body, how can I get anywhere?" And a body materialized around him. It was quite odd.
Then, some sort of gravity pulled him down. He fell, and fell, and fell. Ten seconds into screaming, he got used to it and assumed a relaxed position, waiting for the ground to come. When it finally did, he was jolted awake, still with a knife in his chin, and out of his chair. He got up and took a sip of the tea he had prepared; he stood up completely forgetting about the knife and walking to the door to tell the religious idiots to shut up. Needless to say, that day his cult turned into a religion and that religion became the most popular and powerful in the world.
More years went by; a total of maybe a thousand. The world was beginning to finally get into space after that stagnant point where nothing big happened. Harry had perfected the combination of his normal magic with physical energy. Throughmuch trial and error, he discovered that in order to gain physical energy he needed to be stronger. Human limitations stunted that, but after he combined the two, he could suddenly do things no other person could do. His agility, speed and strength went beyond human limitations and continued to grow exponentially. His power, while unfocused when combined, was much more destructive. Mastery over the elements was incorporated, and when not used through a wand, the elements could be controlled through hand shapes until perfected enough to be channeled without them. The possibilities were endless.
One side effect was his eyes. They became silvery with comma-filled rings twirling around his pupils. It wasn't that bad, but it started another cult of demon worshippers who thought he was a demonic god in contrast to the benevolent god everybody else thought of him as. Sometimes he wondered why he went into the public anymore. Oh yeah, people would bother him a lot more if he didn't. How did they even remember him?
Again… too much thinking…
Throughout all of this, he made frequent visits to the afterlife. Voldemort didn't like them, but Harry didn't really care about that snake… human… thing's opinion. Harry made sure to give thanks and talk to everybody. He had plenty of time, but eventually they were all reborn anew as something or someone else. It always took a thousand years, but if he ever wanted to see them again he could just use his mastery of death to recreate their souls and talk with the replications for a while. Creating life was the beginning of death, so it was within his power to make an aspect of death do it for him. Maybe he really was god, or something. He preferred not to think about it.
He was like the CEO of a company, only he wasn't fat or a (complete) asshole. Death was his underpaid worker(s) that did everything he wanted without (much) complaint. It was the perfect business structure. The leader gets everything and the workers get nothing. Fun…
As for Harry's animagus form, which he finally finished 800 or so years ago, he was a wolf. It wasn't just any wolf, though, but a wolf influenced by the title Master of Death. The breed was very rare, and some didn't believe the species even existed. They were feared just as much as the grim, and for similar reasons. While the grim would be seen whenever somebody was about to die, this particular wolf could actually spread disease via airborne toxins as a defense feature, similar to a Nundu. Nobody that ever saw one had ever survived.
Mythology and folklore characterized them very accurately, actually. They generally had black or brown fur, Harry's being black, with designs spreading across their coat. Harry didn't have any designs on his animagus form, so he was pitch black like his hair. The wolf's height was that of a fully grown man when standing on all four legs. The fur itself was thin and fine, like a fur jacket some rich hag would wear. The biggest and most prominent feature, though, was his single eye. It was a normal black shade originally, but because of the side effects of the physical energy it evolved into the shape of his new eyes with their commas and rings.
It was because of this that he got the title "Wolf of Destruction." People bought it and soaked it up right away, using his animagus form as the symbol of their religions in various ways. Wars happened over which religion was correct, even though they all revolved around him. It could get so annoying and troublesome sometimes. Why didn't anybody take the 'no killing' at face value? It did not mean 'all who don't obey the god's law should be executed for blasphemy.' Because execution wasn't murder, therefore it was allowed.
The biggest reason this topic was brought up was because of Harry's experiments on the effects of physical energy being added to an animagus transformation. This wouldn't be said if it wasn't important to the story (well, actually even it wasn't important, I might say it anyways, but I digress. It's like time travel. Don't listen because it makes no sense, but understand the concept.). Now, it might be a given to try this, but it was simply something that Harry hadn't wanted to do until he tried to calculate the effects using Coinethmancy. Arithmancy didn't work when adding the effects of physical energy, so it was useless after a certain time. Coinethmancy, though, worked by using the twelve zodiac symbols and calculated imprints of physical and mental energy mixing energies moved in specific patterns around the body to create a physical representation of the mind; whereas magic would use threes and sevens, this energy used a lot of fours and sixes. It was somewhat odd.
His calculations predicted a power boost, and possible permanent side-effects not unlike those of completing the animagus transformation. When one becomes an animagus, they might adopt some of the animal's personality or traits. The physical energy would make a more physical change to his body. He could expect clawed nails or sharper canines or something similar. He honestly didn't care, was preparing a ritualistic circle of runes that would activate to dull any and all pain or unwanted feelings that could possibly be felt during the change, and began his animagus transformation.
He added spiritual energy, the makeup of magic, to augment the change and speed it up. Then, he did as his calculations indicated and pushed physical energy through his body to perfect his animagus transformation. The results were… staggering.
Harry looked down at his completely ruined mansion and all of the people dead at his feet. All four of his house sized feet. More specks- no, they were people- gathered around his hulking body, bowing down to him like he had just given them all everything they had ever wanted. Harry looked back down at his mansion's wreckage.
"Damn. And I liked that one."
He looked around again, examining the tiny landscape before realizing he was standing on another mansion with his left back foot, a park with his front one, and his right feet were on roads eight blocks to the side. Looking back, he was a bit put off when he saw ten tails floating behind him. It was one of those 'what is the point of having ten tails floating behind me' moments. It didn't make any sense, and the pointlessness of it was astounding. But, that was before he delved into the pure euphoria of power he had.
It was simply enormous. Harry felt like he could do anything. He felt like he was actually a god. He felt all of the power beaming through him and reveled in its texture and feel. It felt so natural and almost opaque. It was heavy just as it was opaque, like it was full. It was true. Not like 'true and false' but like perfection. Harry felt perfect. He also noticed that his tails held an insane amount of his power at bay and figured that without them his power would simply overwhelm his body and destroy everything until he learned how to properly control it.
With an almost longing look, he shifted back into his human form and sat among the broken ramparts. The funny thing was, he didn't feel a decrease in his power. He was afraid that he would lose that feeling of perfection when he shifted back to human, but it was still there. It was, not to be redundant, perfect. Harry apparated to another one of his mansions and relaxed in front of a mirror. The physical changes were startling, but when you were Harry, you could care less.
Harry still had ten tails flowing behind him, processing his power and regulating its destructive force. His nails were nigh indestructible, were pointed (making it a bitch to play any guitar), and his teeth were serrated and sharp as hell. Harry thought that he looked pretty badass, if he did say so himself.
Harry went about being a recluse for several more centuries, trying to discern everything he could. He found that his new energy could copy five main elements, and used signs similar to his combination of physical and spiritual energy. It was like a perfect combination of the two, and was easier to control. He then found that beyond those five tiers there were the other elements, created by the combination of the previous five. And then, he found that using his power he could control gravity and the planet itself, as well as the cycle of life and death directly (he was sure it was a side effect of the hallows).
Using the refined new energy, he found that his physical power wasn't increasing as much, but when he used the unrefined version by physically combining the two energies, all of his power became both unfocused and destructive.
A simplified version would be:
Magic = spiritual or mental.
Spiritual + Physical = New energy
New energy + Animagus = Refined New Energy (which is less powerful, but more resilient)
Refined New energy + New energy = Colossally powerful energy.
Onwards. With the refined version of his new energy he could also affect people to plant them in illusions. It was so great that he began to let loose energy from his body in excitement and everybody that he looked at screamed and fell unconscious. Apparently none of those people ever woke up again. After that experience he made sure to limit the energy he gave off, especially from his eyes.
This brings us to the point where the true story begins. This is what all of the excitement leads up to. This is LIFE! This is what could be considered the beginning of a new era. This is where it all begins and ends. Be ready, because it is truly perfect.
And here we go.
And one last thing...
Because (I didn't say and) I need ten reviews.
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I would like to say that this chapter has been updated to flow more smoothly, and it's all because of my new beta "Older than Time." I'd like everybody who reads this chapter and likes it to thank him for making my sentences actually make sense. You can thank him in a review or something or other, but you should thank him for his hard work. I reread this through for his edits, and they all, especially the structural editing, have made this so much more interesting.