When Life had stipulated that he had to be reborn, Harry had perhaps not really took into consideration the details of what that precisely meant.
Harry’s immortal soul, currently being kept in a limbo state between flesh and spirit as his new body was still developing, was not amused as he realized that even after all these centuries there were still times his Gryfindor hot-headedness still shone through.
He was currently in some sort of tight, fleshy cave that was somewhat womb–like. It didn’t take him long to realize that he actually was in a womb and upon that realization, he experienced his first bout of mortification, something he hadn't felt since he turned 122 years old when he walked around for days with that gopher in his hair without noticing. Though this was a decidedly more uncomfortable, if novel experience.
Further, watching a baby grow, and being the baby growing in the womb was not as interesting as it sounded, as he quickly discovered. In fact it was even more boring then being stuck in his mountain manor.
He often tried taking advantage of his partially disembodied state and tried to at least spiritually leave the womb of course, maybe go for a spectral stroll, but something, most likely Death or Life, was keeping him tied tight to his new body, so all he got was dark enclosed flesh and the gruesome sight of his own growing body.
As his body further developed overtime however, he became steadily more integrated with it, and his perceptions of the fleshy surroundings grew more dim.
Finally, the day came when he was fully ensconced in his new body and he was able even to move his new limbs in the cramped space marginally, but everything else was primarily warm, wet and dark, and not for the first time during this unpleasant period of his new life, he wondered how the Weasley Twins, the Patels, or any other multiple-borns could have withstood the accommodations, when he as a solo resident found them tighter then a yeti's arse.
Finally the day came when he couldn’t take the boredom anymore and began to fidget determinedly.
ooo ooo ooo
Nook had been preparing tea leaves for an order in her cozy kitchen at the back of her prosperous little tea shop, which was currently closed, for an elderly relative of her husband Caboose who was currently working a long shift at the train yards, getting as many bits as he could towards their impending foal, when the first labor contraction found her.
The light yellowish pony with grayish orchid purple mane dropped the mortar and pestle with a loud clatter and gasped as her round belly, heavy with her foal, shivered and clinched painfully.
She managed to get herself to a nearby couch, only just in time for her legs to give out.
Nook was frightened, she was alone, as it was the Summer Sun Celebration and everyone was attending the festivities, and with everyone else out preparing for the or taking advantage of the work holiday, there was no one around to help and her foal was coming early.
Things began progressing faster then she was able to really process. She would later reflect how her own mother often bemoaned how Nook and her siblings all took ages to be born, but her foal was already beginning to crown before she could think coherently enough to reach for the phone, the headphones dropping from her mouth as she gave one unholy shriek and unable to help it, began the business of pushing with all her might.
ooo ooo ooo
Thus the glorious, messy, painful and terrifying experience of being ushered into the world called birth happened.
Harry never, ever, wanted to experience female anatomy, or any anatomy, from this angle ever again.
With one more near crushing push, Harry arrived into the world wailing his displeasure at the experience and cussing Life and Death both into oblivion.
Then all thoughts of his unpleasant experience was wiped away as the wonderful, beautiful, amazing first touch of Magic fell over his body, welcoming him back.
Magic! Great glorious Magic!
Magic was just as happy to have one of it’s children returned to it after being denied for so long. It crooned lovingly at him as it swaddled him in its invisible clutches and Harry was whirled around and around hazily in a happy dance.
He was vaguely aware of screams of fear and “Great Celestia! My Foal! My Foal!” being shouted in the background, but he was to busy enjoying their reunion.
Then Magic’s air-based cartwheels settled and he felt it gather at some point near his forehead , flowing deep down into his newly formed magical core, settling with a contented purr.
Harry would have been smiling like a fool if he had control of his new facial muscles.
With Magic done gallivanting, he was returned to the hold of something that felt distinctly hoof like.
No matter, as he turned over into his shaken mother's (at least he assumed it was her, since he couldn't really see anything but blurs at the moment) chest, he was already asleep, his little body exhausted by the ordeal.
Ooo ooo ooo
In Hayview hospital, a small service that catered to the Northern outlining village communities north of Vanhoover one hour later, a frantic stallion tore through the quiet halls of the maternity ward.
“Nooook!” the frantic stallion hollered, “Nooooook!”
A nurse stuck his head out of a hospital room giving the frantic Earth Pony a death glare and shushed him.
“But…but…my wife just gave birth!” he tried to explain, hopping from one hoof to the other.
“So has every other mare in the ward,” the nurse Band Aide replied dryly, “Now just take your flank to the welcome desk and someone will direct you to your wife sir.”
With that, the nurse returned to his duties while the thoroughly chastened stallion did as he was told.
10 minutes later…
“Caboose!” Nook sighed in relief, giving her husband a relived smile when she saw him barreling towards her hospital bed, then squeaked when he pulled her into a great hug.
“Honey Bear!” he groaned in relief, “ your alright and…your skinny!”
Caboose, a large burly stallion with dark blue pelt, train track cutie mark, and short brown scruffy mane and tail, was then whacked by his wife’s hoof as she huffed “of course I am you lummox! I just gave birth!”
“Are you alright? The baby…?” the stallion asked her, his voice going even more frantic, “isn’t it to early?”
Nook sighed and patted his mane and got him to set her back in bed with a relived sigh.
“I’m fine and our new little colt is fine as well.”
Caboose perked up at that, his short tail waving happily.
At his wife’s odd expression though, his relieved excitement at being told everyone was fine and that he had a son, quieted.
“Honey Bear? What is it? If everything is fine, then why do you look worried?”
Nook bit her lip explaining, "Well, something happened soon after I gave birth...”
An hour later…
It was some time after his wife had explained things, the unusual and very fast birth, the unprecedented evidence of magical manifestation, which while wasn't unusual in infant unicorns was never quite that...intensely magical as soon as they popped out! And then her worries about his premature state. Both were troubled by this, but Nook's husband eventually pointed out that, while unusual, as long as their little colt was relatively strong and healthy, they would deal with things as they come, while Nook sighed at the eternal pragmatism of Earth Ponies, but otherwise agreeing.
After that, the attending Ponyatric came in and Caboose was finally ushered to the nursery.
He stepped inside, weaving his huge muscular figure around the occupied cots full of newborns of all flavors.
When he found the cot that held his son, he couldn’t help but feel whatever trepidation at the startling news leave him as he beheld the tiny wrapped bundle and felt his heart melt.
The colt was tiny, tinier then most, considering that he was a few weeks early that was to be expected, though he was assured that the maturation magic that had been cast on his son would help speed up the rest of his development. At the moment though, he had to remain in the isolation bubble for another few days until the magic finished it’s work.
He was an adorable little thing, with fluffy stark white pelt, and a tuft of frizzy pitch black mane that stuck out from under his swaddling, framing a tiny white horn. he had definitely taken after his Wife for the most part, though the black mane was more akin to his own father's mane, since Nook's family were all mostly pale.
"Oh, aren't you the cutest ball of cotton, yes you are, yes you are! your daddy's little colt, yes you are..." he cooed.
Then his son opened his tiny, startlingly bright green eyes, looking around himself muzzily, before locking onto the large bluish blob above him and suddenly glowered.
"Aww...look at those eyes! Just like mine!" the stallion declared happily, his own green orbs filling with happiness.
The baby glowered more, a tiny little hoof working itself out of the swaddling, and flipped off his new father, or at least tried to, the lack of opposable fingers making the insult rather hard to get across, and thus went unnoticed as such by the proud papa who thought his brilliant little darling was waving hello.
ooo ooo ooo
The Master of Death perhaps shouldn't have been surprised at the fact that he was reborn as something else.
He had figured during the initial deal about the stipulation about not wanting to be reborn into a world of humans. This meant he would be reborn as something else of course, but it seemed that Death and Life had conspired to make sure his rebirth would be as far from his expectations as possible, who had at least thought he might be bipedal.
They had succeeded. Harry could safely say he would have never suspected in all his 1000+ years that he would be born into a world of colorful talking ponies.
He could have been reborn as an elf, or a mermaid, or a talking ape that ruled the world...but no, because not being human seemed to nix the whole bipedal formula right out the window! Tch!
The Ponies he found himself a part of now did appear to be the dominant species on this planet, and since he assumed that Death, Life and Magic were not likely to make him something that was less then superior in this new reality, that meant he better get used to walking on all fours.
Well…he never thought that those words would ever enter his brain unless he stumbled on something kinky.
He took a wary look up at the faces staring down at him grimacing, which just made them coo more at his “adorable look.”
It was currently a week since Harry's birth, and he was now officially released from the hospital into his parents care.
As was tradition for his new father's family apparently, a naming ceremony where he was presented at a gathering of close family and friends and his name was declared and recorded by an officiate of the town simply must be done, a celebration in which there was much dancing, feasting, more dancing, a shower of presents, then more dancing...yeah fun had by all.
The latest batch of ponies to stick there heads into his tram didn’t take him long to realize that these particular ponies were not the regular variety such as his father and his family, but were more unicorns, like his mother.
Hadn't that been a surprise when he had first got a good look at his mother and a few of the medical staff at the hospital?
Unlike the unicorns from his old world, they were definitely not skittish, though a few of the upper crust, he would soon learn, had a certain untouchable (or never touch me uncouth ruffian) quality about them.
It didn't take him long to learn that there were three major species of pony in this world.
Earth ponies, like his father, Unicorns like his mother and himself apparently (no surprise really), and Pegasi whom he'd seen flying in the sky while being carried around by his mother.
No wonder Magic loved it here! it was practically poring out of everyone’s pores!
Judging by the posh way that the unicorns were dressed and acting, they were very well off unicorns, and their similar coloring and his mother's strained expression, meant that these were likely well off relatives invited out of courtesy.
Harry didn't like the speculative looks shot his way, nor the expression of disdain shot towards his happy go-lucky lunk of a father, who laughed tiredly with some co-workers from the train yard that the stallion worked at. He knew that his new father had pulled a double shift the previous day, hence the tiredness.
"Goodness, he's a scrawny little thing isn't he?" one of the unicorns hummed, unfurling a fan with her horn as she stared down at him.
"Though at least he isn't likely to be some unruly behemoth," another elderly unicorn drawled, eyes snapping to Caboose.
"He is a unicorn at least," agreed another unicorn, younger but still slightly older then Harry's mother with a sour and pouty expression, "at least our genes bred true in that quarter, though he will likely not be anything to sniff at magically, given his sire."
"Indeed," said a stout male unicorn, adjusting his monocle, "powerful unicorns only breed true from a long line of pure unicorns after all."
"Yes," said the fan waver, "If you hadn't run off with...him," she addressed his strained mother, a nod at Caboose, "you might have taken a better, more refined and proper stallion, and the little one here would have had a better chance, but alas!"
Harry glared at the uppity creatures, a little amused, a little annoyed. It seemed some mentalities really were multi-universal.
His mother looked upset though, Harry could see how much their comments hurt her, and was pleased to witness that she had a bit of a back bone as she snapped and told them off bluntly, but politely, to stuff their elitist attitude up where Celestia never shines, an interesting feat of politely strained verbosity that not many could do in Harry's experience.
He let out a happy chortle at the virotol, his first in this new body, and not the last he was sure.
After the unicorns wandered off, looking scandalized, and joined the few others standing apart from the rest of the predominantly Earth pony gathering to brood and gossip in a corner, it was finally time and all attention turned towards him.
Harry was lifted out of his tram in the yellowish cozy warmth of his mothers magic, so he was at relative eye level with the gathered collection of ponies.
'Egads! they really were all colors under the sun weren't they?' he thought as he got a good look at the group at large.
Then the officiate, an elderly old pale brown Earth Pony with the amusing name of Dimples, strode forward solemnly, a scroll unfurled with his teeth under a hovering Harry, and with a quill resting in his hoof (Harry was still trying to figure out how the ponies did that without any magic) and awaited the words.
"Greetings to our family and friends who could make it this day to welcome the newest member into our fold," Caboose began to intone solemnly, "We have thought long and hard about a name that best suits both our new son and honors both families and tradition..."
"So without further ado," Nook took up her part, "We present you the newest member of our family, our son Mortis!"
Harry sensed the not so subtle (to him at least) figurative hand of Death in that choice.
Of course, the happy couple were perfectly peachy with the name, and no matter what anyone said to them in later years they would always wave it away without concern, a little hazy eyed, and Harry now Mortis wasn't overly bothered by it himself, though in later years, once he was able to properly articulate, told everyone around him he preferred the less refined version of "Morty" instead.