Mildly Infuriating | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 1

A shiver went down Harry's spine as he felt the presence of Death enter the room. With a heaving sigh, He put down the latest edition of 100 Ways to Use Acromantula Venom by Anastasius S. Silvermore.

"Master, I see yet again you've done absolutely nothing but rot away on your couch reading those wretched books again," Death said disapprovingly while waving a skeletal finger at the green-eyed man.

"How is this my fault!? You're the one who forced immortality on me, I haven't aged a day past seventeen, besides I happen to quite like this author, his initials are A.S.S," huffed Harry with crossed arms. Death was not amused.

Immortality. What a joke. Possibly the most sought after concept in human history by countless wizards and muggles alike and yet Harry-I-want-to-die-Potter is the one who succeeds. Harry chuckled to himself at the irony as he reminisced about his school days. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry's life never really settled down as the battle was immediately covered by the media. He returned for his seventh year at Hogwarts, which was a mistake because he got bombarded by numerous marriage proposals, public professions of love, and love potions. How prepubescent wizards kept procuring illegal love potions was beyond him. It was only a matter of time and five too many reporters trying to find gossip by going through his trash, that he decided to dip and go under the radar.

As if immortality wasn't a sick enough joke, Harry's skin was permanently marred by the geometric symbol of the deathly hallows on the back of his neck. Hermione had noticed the weird symbols on his neck as a passing comment after the war, which coincidentally was how he found out he was the Master of Death. He'd tried multiple spells to rid himself of the mark, but just as with his lightning bolt scar, it was a hopeless endeavor. Harry made sure to wear his hair at a longer after this incident.

Harry still met up with Hermione, Ron, and the occasional Ginny (whom he decided was better off as a friend when he found out he batted for the same team), but it wasn't enough. His friends were understanding of his situation, but he became unable to relate to them in terms of family or aging and they grew apart. The final nail in the coffin of their friendships was when he literally outlived all of his contemporaries. Life was just so boring, the things he would do to go back to Hogwarts, be an unknown Hufflepuff, and wreak absolute havoc. He wanted to make friends without the weight of the "Golden-Boy-who-lived-and-still-won't-die" title weighing him down.

As it turned out Dark Lords weren't unique to Harry's time period, rather they were like cockroaches. They never really died out. In Harry's 200 years of living he had exterminated four more Dark Lords, perhaps none as prolific as Lord Voldemort. Was exterminating muggle-borns that fun? Hadn't anyone ever thought of learning from history?

The only times Harry came out of hiding were when another megalomaniac idiot tried to take over the world again. Speaking of megalomaniacs who wanted to take over the world. 

Voldemort.

Sure he killed his parents and any chance he had at leading a normal life, but while dangerous, Voldemort made his adolescent life incredibly interesting. He was on death's door pretty much every living second, and after 200 years of immortality, that sounded pretty desirable.

Harry had become quite proficient at magic over the years, not impressive considering the amount of time he invested in it instead of socializing with other human beings. The only other way he spent his time was lamenting to Death how bored he was.

"Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm bored! Death do a funny dance or something!"

"You realize that you're the Master of Death right?"

"Well no duh, that fact has been pretty apparent the last two centuries," Harry pouted.

"Then you realize that you can do anything you want right?You could even time travel," Death said, deciding to amuse his master.

"I can what?" Harry asked incredulously.

____

And so there Harry was, standing before the Great Hall of Hogwarts in the year 1944 as the sorting hat was placed on his head for the second time.

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