The next great never-ending adventure.

Chapter one: Via anima

Summary: In the climax of the final battle, Harry and Voldermort are thrown into a different world. The war in wizarding Britain is over, but the fight for Fiore has only just begun.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or Harry Potter.

_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_

Jets and bolts of different coloured light flew between the two duelling wizards, illuminating the dusk-lit section of the Hogwarts school grounds. Zaps, whistles and snaps shattered silence wherever it fell. The many onlookers having long since given up on jeering, taunting or cheering, with only worry and anticipation remaining in the air.

Too much was at stake, to rest on the outcome of one duel. Too much lay in the hands, and on the shoulders of these two wizards, who fought for the fate of the wizarding world. It was the light facing the dark, good combating evil, the Chosen One challenging the Dark Lord. But, when it got down to it. Past all the hyperbole. Between the life and death dance and the juggling with the lives of so many. it was just two people, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, fighting to the death.

With their titles and monikers not mattering, and their followers or friends either forbidden, or too scared to interfere. It was just a desperate struggle for victory, for neither can live while the other survives.

"Avada Kedavra!" A bolt of green light flew forth, Harry ducked to the side, letting the curse sail over his head to collide with the already destroyed segment of wall behind him.

"Reducto!" Blue light answered green, and Voldemort parried it before countering with his own frantic. "Reducto!" Harry reflected the curse back at the Dark Lord, whose red eyes flashed with hate when he flicked his wand, sending the curse flying off into the sky.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry incanted. Voldermorts hideous, serpentine features twisted in even greater anger, as he was forced to step back and counter the spell that had been sent his way. He twisted and jabbed his wand at lightning speed, deflecting the spell into the ground, causing already broken stone tiles to fracture further.

And the duel raged on, until… Simultaneously they cast. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

They say the right man in the wrong place can make all the difference, and vice versa with the wrong man and the right place. But what if it was the wrong man, and the right man, in the right and wrong place in the wrong yet right time... Well… When the spells met, the sky seemed to darken, and for Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, everything went black.

_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_

On a dreary hillside, in the magical Kingdom of Fiore, there stood a young man. He was clad in a peculiar fashion, and on his back he had slung a sack. Tied on to this sack were several staffs and staves, all of different size and shape, though all with very extraordinary designs.

His face was fair, yet he bore an interesting tattoo around his right eye, a tattoo only partially covered by his untamed, sapphire blue hair. Narrowing his eyes, the boy turned his gaze skyward.

Raising his hand, he drew a staff from his pack. Wheeling the wooden magical implement in a whirlwind motion above his head, the boy executed this movement by slamming the base of the staff into the ground at his feet.

With this motion, magic flowed through him, coursing through his very being, channelling through the staff and allowing it's mystical effects to take place. As the young man's magic took effect, a rift became visible in the sky. A warped emptiness that had been there, unnoticed, siphoning the natural magical energy from the world into another place beyond the wormhole in the sky.

This particular Anima portal, as it was called, was giving the young mage more trouble than usual. Trouble that was not welcome. He forced more magic into the spell, causing the wind to rip about the landscape nearby, tussling the grass and sending dust and dirt billowing up into the air.

Something was different about this portal, Mystogan thought to himself, as he struggled to close the portal. It was troubling….

They say, don't trouble trouble, till trouble troubles you. in this case, that little idiom held true. As the young mage, who went by the name of Mystogan, saw something fall from within the Anima portal. Two somethings to be exact, two distinctly humanoid somethings.

There were a few bursts of blinding, colourful light as they emerged from the portal high up in the sky. But as the figures cartwheeled, tumbled and fell, the lights seemed to stop.

One figure, whose robes billowed about him like the shadow of a bat, screamed. The scream was loud enough to be heard from where Mystogan stood, and it was high pitched in a sickening, animalistic sort of way. With this crowing, the heavily robed person, morphed into a literal shadow and began to cannon away towards the ground. But instead of free falling as he had been before, the cloud of black smoke that was invariably a person, seemed to coast on the air. Until it disappeared a large distance away, deep into the canopy of the forest and its trees.

The other person, was free-falling, limbs twisting and spinning as he descended, out of control. But this persons robes weren't as all consuming as the other figures had been. Though they still flapped and flew about their form, making this person seem similarly animal like. But more of a crow, or blackbird than a bat. This person didn't morph or transform as the other had though, and he just kept falling towards the ground, seemingly to his death.

Young Mystogan watched, his mouth hanging open as the person was falling to their brutal doom. He was helpless to stop it, as his magic couldn't assist him in this specific situation and he was only in his early teens. He wasn't experienced enough to deal with sudden, bizarre and alarming situations like this.

This person seemed to have a trick or two up their sleeve, thankfully. As when they neared the top of the forests dark trees, they flailed their arm, and another jet of light emitted from them. From where he stood Mystogan couldn't see what the light had done, but the young mage assumed it must have been a spell of some kind.

As the person vanished, enveloped by the leaves and branches of the forest, a thousand questions ran through Mystogans mind. Who were those two people? Had they come from Edolas, and if so did they intend to come, or had he accidentally brought them through. Were they mages? If so, what kind, because that was some vibrant magic they were throwing about. Were they fighting or something? Mystogan just didn't know, but he hoped that they hadn't been too badly hurt. The blue haired mage couldn't shake the creeping feeling that he had somehow caused this.

Mystogan ran down the hillside at full pelt, leaping over rocks and lumps of earth that stuck out at odd points all across the pock marked incline. The hill levelled out into flat ground, which then quickly became overrun by the forest and foliage. Mystogan pushed his way through the undergrowth, heading in a beeline for where the second figure had fallen. As the one who had flown off, was now too far away for him to reach. Besides, if that second persons spell had failed, then they might be seriously hurt, or even dead. But Mystogan didn't care to dwell on that, so he set his face in a resolute expression, and focused on just getting to this person to see if they were alright.

_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_

One moment Harry Potter had cast the killing curse at Voldermort. Then in the blink of an eye, it was like the ground had been pulled out from beneath his feet. More than that, it seemed as if everything had just been swept away all of a sudden. He likened it to apparation, except without the nauseating tunnel vision.

One thing remained though, to his displeasure. Lord Voldemort seemed to be experiencing the same effects as Harry. There was a moment where the two of them just stood, dumbfounded, in a formless, colourless space... But that moment ended as soon as it had begun.

Harry wasn't sure if his sight had returned, or if it had gone anywhere in the first place. As in that brief moment of displacement, it had been as if there was nothing, anywhere. Now though, a landscape returned, with colour and sound, smells and sensations.

He was flying, high up in the sky... No, not flying, he was falling… Same difference, Harry considered, as he began to plummet towards the ground.

A midnight sky was suddenly all around him, and he felt cold and damp. Fog clouded his sight, then that same fog disappeared again in an instant. The rush of cold wind dried him just as quickly, and the gusting air sent him spinning about as he fell. His cone of vision switched between the beautifully deep, starry sky. A dense, expansive forest. And Lord Voldemort.

Voldermort looked like he was experiencing the same thoughts and feelings as Harry right now. Although the Dark Lord was screaming and swearing up a storm. The disgusting human being was throwing out spells left and right, evidently trying to hit Harry. But none connected and soon the serpentine wizard gave up. Seemingly to focus more on how to stop falling.

The dark lords physical body seemed to disintegrate around him, and Voldermort changed form. Now a tumultuous mass of black, noxious smoke, the dark wizard flew away from Harry, descending at a safer speed into the forest a great distance away.

Harry turned his gaze back to the rapidly approaching treetops, but was forced to repeatedly turn his head in order to keep sight of the area he would inevitably impact with. He knew a spell that could slow his fall, but he had left it too late to escape unscathed, and Harry's current predicament made spell casting quite problematic.

Harry prided himself on being able to remain calm under duress, but the very sudden change of location, altitude and time, did not do anything for his peace of mind.

Just as he reached the trees, he managed to strangle out a spell to slow him down and cushion his fall. Indeed, rather than being impaled, splintered and dashed on the branches, Harry tumbled through them at a slower speed than he would have. It still hurt like hell though, as he ripped past leaves and twigs. Each inch of every surrounding tree, scratching and scraping at his exposed face and hands, tearing up his robes and dislodging his glasses.

Harry then felt one particularly forceful thump on his upper back, followed by a massive increase in the spinning sensations. Finally culminating in a full body contact with the forest floor, which rather painfully had some protruding roots poking out of the solid ground.

Nice as it was to not be falling anymore, Harry only managed to take in a single breath, before losing consciousness completely. Slipping into an absence of mind, a calming lack of any and all sensation.

_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_

Before Harry's eyes even opened, he was acutely aware of one immediate fact. He hurt, all over. A throbbing, sharp pain, which felt like his entire system was being shocked every time a muscle so much as twitched.

Involuntarily he let out a heavy, dull groan, while forcing his eyes to open. Upon seeing a canopy of tree branches and rich green leaves above him, the memory of what had happened came flooding back. Sunbeams streaked down through the gaps between leaves, the bright light shining directly into Harry's eyes, causing him to realise that he must've been unconscious for awhile.

"Hello..." The stony voice of a young boy said, coming from a distance to Harry's left.

Lacking the energy and feeling far to sore to be surprised, by a child's voice of all things, Harry turned his head to the look over at the kid. Turned, wasn't the right word, he more, twitched his neck very slightly, causing a minor increase in dull aching around that area. But resulting in his head rocking over in the right direction.

Sure enough, sitting up against a tree a short distance across from him, was a young lad. Probably about thirteen, with a large travelling rucksack sitting beside him. The pack had what looked like lots of staffs tied to it, making it look very odd indeed. Not as odd as the boy though, who had a very vibrant head of blue hair.

His face creasing in confusion, Harry grunted in what he hoped was a friendly enough sounding greeting.

"Are you feeling okay?" Asked the boy, still remaining po-faced and serious.

Harry responded with a creaking groan, which helped to release enough of his tension for the-boy-who-lived to answer hoarsely. "Well... I feel like, maybe, I might be a little bit hurt..."

The blue haired boy let out a brief snort of amusement, and his serious expression lifted for a second. Which relieved Harry somewhat, causing him, even in his injured state, to smile as well. No kid should be that grim looking.

Harry continued groggily. "I'm alive, so I guess i'm okay... Although I think I might've knocked something loose in my head... 'Cos you've got blue hair..."

The boy raised an eyebrow in curiosity and answered, sounding confused. "My hair is blue..." He said. As if he was stating the obvious or something.

Harry, didn't really know how to react to that. The kids hair was blue, like, too blue. But, this just didn't compute in Harry's mind. What thirteen year old boy dyes their hair? What thirteen year old boy dyes their hair blue!?

Perhaps too concussed to be polite, Harry just blurted out dumbly. "What?"

"My hair is blue." The blue haired boy answered, then continued to add. "Why is that surprising? Blue's a normal hair colour."

"... What?" Harry's face couldn't rightly accommodate the look of sheer perplexity it now exhibited. But the puzzlement wouldn't stop there, as the boys next question made almost no sense to Harry.

"Are you from Edolas?" The kid, whose calm, poker faced features had been relaxed up until then, now seemed to turn mildly accusatory.

"What?" Was again the only answer Harry could muster.

The boy sighed with a tired resignation. "Edolas? Is that where you're from?"

"No." Harry answered, feeling oddly put out at being accused of being from this Edolas place, wherever it was. "I'm from England."

The kid didn't look like he even recognised the name. "The UK?" Harry tried hopefully, but was met with nothing but more confusion. "Europe?" Still nothing.

In a last ditch attempt to garner some reaction from the boy who apparently had a perfectly ordinary hair colour, Harry said. "Planet Earth?" Feeling more than a tad silly when he said so.

"That's strange." Said the boy, more to himself than Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, not for the first time, and dauntingly not for the last time either.

"Are you from Earthland?" The pondering boy asked.

"No, no land, just Earth..." Harry answered, before grasping his logic by the horns and demanding. "Where am I?"

"You're in a country called Fiore, in a world called Earthland. And i'm sorry, but you're... you are, not exactly in your own world anymore..." The kid explained carefully. "My name is Mystogan, and i'm kind of in the same situation as you... I'm from a different world to this one too... But not your one, which is strange."

Mystogan sounded like he was going to carry on, but he grew quiet, when Harry turned his head to look back up at the sky and said to the heavens. A desperate grab for a way out, he asked. "Fawkes?"

A still minute passed in silence, while nothing happened except for the wind blowing in the trees... Fawkes wasn't coming. Meaning Harry was too far away, which was impossible for Fawkes, as far as he knew.

"A different world...?" Harry breathed, not looking at Mystogan, but turning over the implications of the idea in his head. "Your not just pulling my leg?"

"No." Mystogan replied solemnly.

Harry looked back at the boy, feeling more than anything a burning desire for the kid to be pulling some kind of joke. To suddenly yell 'april fools!'. Or at least for this to be some horrific trick by Voldermort and the death eaters, to twist his mind before killing him. Anything that meant this insane sounding impossibility was false.

Though his fears and more were confirmed, when Harry met Mystogans concerned hazel eyes. At the moment their gazes met, something happened out of the blue.

... It was simple really... Far easier than such a magic should've been... That Harry had just performed legillimency accidentally, and so naturally, unsettled him, nauseated him. His above average proficiency with occulmency, along with his intense desire for the truth at that moment, must have been enough to involuntarily initiate the mind reading technique.

Thankfully he saw little, yet he still felt submerged in the numerous memories and thoughts. All of which ratified one fact in his own mind... Harry was not in his own world.

Then he blinked, and was back in the forest, laying painfully on the dusty ground, looking across at a puzzled, blue haired boy.

"Are you going to be alright?" Mystogan asked, concerned.

"I... How?" Harry mumbled, still wrapping his head around the truths he had seen in Mystogans mind. His being in a different world standing out as the most glaring one.

"I saw you fall through the portal. Do you remember that?" Mystogan questioned.

"Yes..." Harry answered, recalling the event. "What was that?"

"That was an anima portal. They're meant to be only between Edolas, the other world I mentioned, and this one, Earthland. But thats only possible because Edolas and Earthland are parallel worlds, I didn't even know that it could connect to other, nonparallel worlds... But somehow it did..." Mystogan explained quietly.

"Oh... How do you know this?" Harry asked without thinking.

"I..." Mystogan seemed to pause, unsure of how to, or just not wanting to continue. He decided upon divulging the information though, as he said. "I am from Edolas. Which is where the portals are being opened from. I've been trying to close the portals from here in Fiore, but this one... I... I think, I did something. I might've caused this. I think I brought you here..." Bless his heart the boy sounded very guilty and very apologetic. Given this and the fact that it sounded like it was a mistake, Harry couldn't summon the gall to be annoyed. "I'm so sorry." Mystogan confessed.

"That's alright. Not like you knew..." Harry supplied amiably. Then carried on to question. "Wait, you're closing them...? Do you think you could open one then? Send me back?" It was a vague hope, but a hope nonetheless.

"I'm sorry... But I can't... Closing them is easy. But opening them, requires power and knowledge that I don't have, not to mention a lot of machinery as well. That and... Like I said, Edolas and Earthland are parallel, so travelling between these two worlds, while very difficult, is easier than..." Mystogan trailed off, before just saying. "I doubt we could find your world, let alone get you back safely... I'm sorry..."

A heavy feeling then weighed Harry down, making him feel as though he was resting on quicksand. Everything seemed to distance itself, his senses became numb, thoughts replaced with only faint feelings... He wasn't going home... To Hogwarts... To his friends, Ron, Hermione, Neville... To Ginny... He wouldn't see them again...

... Then, through the haze of fear and anxious depression that was creeping up on him, came one, clear, obvious beacon. Something that was a constant for him. Something he had dealt with his entire life, whether he knew it or not.

Even if he could go home. He wouldn't. "Mystogan." Harry addressed the boy slowly. "There was another one, who came through with me, wasn't there?"

"Yes." Mystogan answered, nodding.

"Which direction did he go from here?" Harry's face had shifted, to an expression of pure, grim determination. An expression which caused the young Mystogan to look a tad unnerved.

"That way I think..." He pointed off in the direction of the sun. "But you've been unconscious for close to a day now. He might be long gone..."

"Then I've got to" Harry only got that far in his statement. As he tried to sit up while saying it. Though he managed to reach a sitting position, the aches and pains made him hiss in agony as he forced his body to move.

"Here." Mystogan said, and when Harry looked up, he saw the boy was offering him one of the staves from his rucksack.

It was more of a staff really, a wholly Gandalf affair Harry reasoned happily. Smiling he took the staff, saying a friendly. "Thanks." To Mystogan for his consideration.

The staff felt odd to hold, like it was abuzz with static electricity. A sensation which Harry knew well, and one he grew accustomed to instantly. This staff was magical... Planting the staffs end on the ground, Harry managed to push himself to his feet with a lot more ease than if he had tried to stand on his own steam. Now upright on admittedly wobbly legs, Harry looked down at the kid standing next to him.

Mystogan was a little over half Harry's height, had, yeah, definitely blue hair, and was looking up at him with concerned, round hazel eyes. He also bore a tattoo over his right eye, of an odd but probably significant shape. Harry couldn't help but feel like he recognised the boy though, behind the tattoo and all that blue hair, Mystogan looked like someone Harry knew. He just didn't know who.

Mystogan had donned his pack too, which was almost comically large on the boy. It was then that Harry seemed to sense something. It was strange, like a sixth sense, a tugging at his brain similar to occulmency and legillimency, but not exactly as disconnected as the mind arts felt. It was like he was perceiving something from the boy. Not thoughts, or feelings or memories, no, it felt like magic, like Harry could sense Mystogans magic... Did he have magic? He had mentioned it. All this talk of portals and other worlds didn't scream muggle to him... Did they even have muggles here? Where was he!?

New world... With a vast lack of knowledge on said world. So Harry did two things before limping away. Firstly he patted himself down, still holding onto the staff for balance mind you, but he needed to check. Mokeskin pouch on belt. Wand... Damn, where was his wand?

Looking back down to where he had been lying, Harry shifted his eyes across the small clearing, searching for his wand... He didn't see it... "Hey, Mystogan... You didn't happen to see a..."

Before Harry could finish his question, Mustogan was holding Harrys wand out to him. "Here... It felt important, and powerful... And, well, I couldn't risk you attacking me when you woke up, so, I held onto it."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry slowly took his Wand back. After a moment he decided what this was, and commended the kid. "... Smart." Then he stowed it in his hip holster and added with a smile. "Cheers."

With that crisis averted, Harry began his check again. Mokeskin pouch and all within, wand, all safe, secure and thankfully unharmed beneath his now nearly ragged robes.

The second thing Harry did. was simply to ask. "So... Tell me about this Earthland place..."

Then he headed off into the woods, with Mystogan following after the wounded wizard.

_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_

A/N: In an attempt to curb the writers block thats been plaguing my other fic, i've started posting this one. At first I thought, "Only one fic at a time! Don't get overloaded!" But then, well I realised I needed something to keep me from getting bored with said other fic. So this is that something!

I'll drop a little precursor info here. All HP canon is exactly that, canon, unless mentioned otherwise. In the FT timeline Harry has arrived sometime during the year X778, so he'll be a scant older than most of the main cast of FT. Harry and Voldermort will grow more powerful in certain ways, and avenues of magic will be opened or become easier for them, for reasons I will go into later. However, it won't be as easy as "stupefy." Game set match to Harry, no, a lot will change but then again a lot will stay the same. Pairings? Won't be the main focus, and are undecided, though it won't be slash. Oh, and Harrys mokeskin pouch has a bunch of his gear in it. I won't yet say exactly what, but it should be fun and come in very handy as Harry travels around Fiore hunting the Dark Lord. Rating is T, but liable to change.

Leave constructive criticism, speculation, suggestions or whatever you wish in a review, if you feel like dropping one. I may not directly reply to reviews, but I still read them and take each one into account. Follow if you like, and favourite if you feel it deserves it. More importantly though, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed the start of The next great never-ending adventure.