A Reason to Why I'm Here
“Who are you?” Lily demands of the strange man in the entry way of their destroyed home, her voice shaky but determined. Her baby is cradled protectively in her arms, and her husband’s arms wrap around them both.
“Me?” The stranger sounds surprised, almost innocent even though he’d just dueled Voldemort and won. His dark hair is messy, but also familiar. “Well, technically I’m the Master of Death. You know, powerful inter-dimensional handy man?”
“What?” James asks, just as shaken as his wife.
“You probably want to know who I was before all this Master of Death stuff. You see, they called me Harry Potter. I’m the Harry Potter who lost both of his parents tonight but survived the un-survivable and got famous for something I didn’t do.
“I’m the Harry Potter who grew up with Aunt Petunia and lived in the cupboard under the stairs. I’m the Harry that believed you’d caused a drunk driving accident that killed you both. I’m the Harry that grew up hungry and lonely, trained to be a house elf for muggles.
“I’m the Harry Potter that went to Hogwarts and made friends with a red-haired boy and the smartest witch of our generation. These are the same friends I fought a troll with, and the same friends that gave me my first Christmas presents. I’m the one that was sorted Gryffindor like his parents and made Seeker on the house team as a first year. I’m the Harry who faced his parents’ murderer three times and survived thanks to a centaur, his friends, and his mother’s love.
“I’m the Harry Potter who spent his summer locked in his room after a house elf of questionable sanity, but with the biggest heart imaginable, tried to protect me. They put bars on my windows and locks on my door and gave me food through a cat flap in the door. I was rescued, and for the first time I got to see what a family was really like. At school that year, I was the Harry who was ostracized by the entire school when it came out that I could speak to snakes. Of course, it may not have been too bad if the Chamber of Secrets hadn’t been opened and students turned up petrified. I’m the Harry that killed a thousand-year-old basilisk because no one else could or would and faced my parents’ murderer once more.
“I’m the Harry Potter that ran away from the Dursley’s because anywhere had to be better, even though there was a mass murderer out to get me. I’m the Harry that never remembered anything about you two until the Dementors came and I relived the worst night of my life. My only memory of my mother is her begging for my life and her screams right before a flash of green light. I’m the Harry who was taught how to cast a Patronus Charm by a werewolf, the same werewolf who’d been trying to be a part of my life for years. I’m the Harry Potter who was able to free his innocent godfather from Azkaban thanks to his friends, a time turner, and a hippogriff.
“I’m the Harry Potter that was entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament against his will and became a fourth champion. I faced ostracization and was called a cheater, even by people who I thought were my closest friends. I faced a dragon and the depths of the Black Lake, and in the third task I tried to be fair and noble and agreed to tie with the other Hogwarts champion. I’m the Harry Potter whose blood was used to revive Voldemort, who got his friend and fellow champion killed that night, who let that damn Pettigrew go free again. And when I tried to tell them that Voldemort was back, they didn’t believe me, not even when they found a Death Eater impersonating the DADA professor. Liar, cheater, murderer, unstable; that’s what they called me that year.
“I’m the Harry Potter whose fifth year at school was hellish. That summer, I’d been kept ostracized and alone to stew in my own guilt and self-hatred. At school, the DADA professor was a ministry lackey sent to discredit me. She abused her authority as a professor and caused permanent physical harm to students whose parents were not Ministry employees and especially myself; I have the scar to prove it. And when I tried to get help, I was the Harry who was told to keep his head down and not cause trouble. I’m the version of Harry that lead a group of students and taught them how to defend themselves, because war was coming and no one else would listen. I’m the Harry who suffered through visions that left me sick to my stomach, but still went to Occlumency lessons with a man who despised me because of my father. I’m the Harry that lead a raid at the Ministry to rescue Padfoot but got him killed instead. I’m the Harry that learned about the prophecy and finally got them to realize that Voldemort was back, but it was all my fault.
“I’m the Harry Potter that watched, in sixth year, as his friends and classmates became orphans, too. I’m the Harry that learned about Horcrux’s, Tom Riddle, and the Half-Blood Prince. I’m the Harry who saw the plot, knew something was going to happen, but was called paranoid and prejudiced. I’m the Harry who was right but was also too late to stop the Headmaster from being killed, though he’d been dying anyway.
“I’m the Harry Potter who didn’t go back to Hogwarts. Who watched Death Eaters storm a wedding and began his life on the run with his two closest friends that same day. I’m the Harry who spent a year chasing rumors and destroying Horcrux’s, breaking into Gringotts and learning that you could never be too paranoid. I learned that the Deathly Hallows were real, and I united them so Voldemort couldn’t have them. At the end, I’m the Harry who went back to Hogwarts one last time. I’m the Harry who fought alongside students who’d been fighting all year, learning what terror and the Crucatious Curse felt like. And I’m the Harry who walked into those woods to die, and by some miracle, I lived. I’m the Harry who beat Voldemort one final time, but who could never have done it alone.
“I’m the Harry Potter who lost friends and family, who would watch his godson grow up an orphan because his parents had died that night. I mourned a house elf, mentors, friends, and family who would never grow old but deserved to, much more than I did. I’m the Harry who signed up to be an Auror because violence and paranoia were all I was comfortable with, and part of me hoped I wouldn’t make it.
“I’m the Harry Potter who watched the world turn and watched life move on. But I stayed firmly in the past. I couldn’t get over it, so I learned how to change it. As Master of Death, I had powers you could only dream of. And I’ve been using them, trying to make it to this point, to this moment.
“Because that baby in your arms? He’s Harry Potter, too, but he doesn’t have to be me. He’s going to grow up with his parents, knowing he’s loved. He’s never going to have a lightning shaped scar on his head because Voldemort is never going to touch a hair on his head. He’s going to be someone other than me. And maybe I’ve made things worse. Maybe you’ll both die later, and all this will have been for nothing. Maybe I’m being arrogant, thinking that I can save everyone that died. But I have to try, because if I don’t then what good has any of this been?
“So that’s who I am, and who he won’t be, and I guess this is goodbye. I’ve changed a lot of things, you see, and Master of Death or not, I can’t stay anymore. Please don’t waste this opportunity; I can’t get you another one. Good luck, James. Good luck, Lily. Don’t let him be me.”
He shimmers and fades as he takes a step backwards and through the door frame, as if he was never there to begin with.