Being the Master of Death made life difficult, especially when you need to save all of magical Europe from inbreeding its way to extinction. At least Death was enjoying watching his Master attempt this over and over again. Harry didn't find it nearly as entertaining. Well, tenth times the charm right? (FemHarry) Original cover image by, beshinoe.

Lord Voldemort stared at the cradle where there was not one, but two children where he had only been expecting one. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Which one of you... is my supposed death?" Or Albus Dumbledore's warnings came to fruition. (Originally posted on AO3, but I thought I'd start posting it here too!)