Resurrection in All Its Forms

It had been twelve years since he killed Voldemort. It had been twelve years since he died and came back to life. It had been twelve years since he became the Master of Death. It had been twelve years since his heart stopped beating.

Twelve years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the dead started walking. It changed very little for Harry Potter, already traveling the world alone as a grim reaper, and he swore to himself that he wouldn't get involved beyond doing his job. He was suddenly very busy, after all. It was hard for souls to move on when their bodies were still shambling around, and there were more dead than living these days. He had already saved the world once; it was someone else's turn.

And then he heard a little girl in the middle of a forest, screaming, sobbing, terrified, and alone as the dead cornered her.

Harry always did have a saving people thing, didn't he?

This story belongs to CharlotteWritesAll.