The battle for the Department of Mysteries raged around him.

Harry saw the red streak of the stunning spell as soon as it left the tip of Bellatrix's wand. He watched as it flew across the room, seemingly shining brighter than the many other flashes, bolts and streaks of light that echoed around the room as the battle continued around him. Surely Sirius would see it? It was just a stunner, a simple charm stopped by a simple protego. He waited and waited, the entire thing moving in slow motion.

He wasn't going to notice it. The spell was too close to him now, there was no way he could react it time. Harry leapt into action, diving into his Godfather and knocking the man away from the entrance to the Veil, into which he surely would have fallen had the spell struck. He raised his wand and, with a scream, summoned a shield charm to stop the spell.

"Expelliarmus!" Lucius Malfoy's voice called above all the others in the room. The white light struck Harry moments before he could summon his shield. His wand clattered to the floor several meters away.

Time returned to normal.

He watched, helpless, as the battle returned to full speed. The dancing lights became viciously fast strikes between opponents battling to the death. The eerie silence that had descended was lifted, and the screams of triumph and pain mixed in the air and assaulted Harry's senses. The red light, which moments before had moved like a snail, now struck him like lightning.

He felt his body seize up, his legs and arms refusing to respond as he simply fell into the Veil of Death.

Harry Potter was dead.

He never expected to wake up, so you can imagine that when he did wake up, it was quite the surprise. He was somewhere… white. There didn't seem to be any walls, but there was no sky either, nor a floor as far as he could tell. He was clearly standing on something, but there was nothing there except white.

"You are not supposed to be here, Harry Potter." A voice echoed from somewhere in the white mist that stretched as far as he could see. he couldn't tell if it was male or female, for it sounded like a hundred different voices all speaking at once.

"Yet, here I am" Harry replied.

"Your Destiny remains unfulfilled. You should not be here." The voice repeated.

"Yes well, quite clearly I am here. So we should move on from the my not supposing to be being here line. Where even is here?" Harry asked.

"You are here." The voice simply replied. "Here is here."

"What? I am not in the mood for riddles. Unless you are unaware, I just died!" Harry screamed into the white void.

"Yet you should not have. You must leave here Harry Potter."

That perked Harry's ears up. "Leave here? You mean i'm not, y'know, beyond or whatever?"

"No, you are here." The voice replied, the statement as monotone as all before it.

Harry sighed. He was not going to get an answer on that it seemed. "How do I leave?"

There was silence for a few moments. Harry finally decided to test his legs. He was slightly worried that he would fall, given that he appeared to be standing on nothing but white mist, but then again, he was currently standing on said white mist anyway, so either he was floating or the ground was solid. He took a cautious step forward, and when he felt something solid underfoot, he took another. Around and around he walked in the white mist, and yet, he only found more white.

"I cannot send you home, Harry Potter. It is not in my power."

Harry deflated. He felt the last vestiges of hope, a hope he didn't know he still held, seep from his body. It finally hit him.

He was dead.

There was no going back from this one. There was no tears Fawkes could cry, no time-turner he could spin nor portkey that could teleport him any from this new reality. This was it, it seemed. He was trapped here in this never ending whiteness forever. No more Hogwarts, no more magic. He would never see his friends again, no more Hermione, or Ron. Never would he see Sirius again, nor Dumbledore. This was it.

All there ever would be was this white mist.. He lashed out, letting out an almighty scream of frustration at the injustice of it all. He was dead. Not Voldemort or Bellatrix, not that smarmy git Lucius Malfoy, nor any of the other Death Eaters! No, instead it was he, Harry Potter, a boy who had never wanted anything more than to be normal, that was dead. Killed for standing up when others cowered. He felt a famous fury, striking the mist with kicks and punches and all manner of profanity. It was pointless, but it was all he could do.

"I can however send you to someone who can return you to your world" the voice finally spoke again. Harry took a moment to process the words over his screams of righteous fury, but, as soon as he did, he fell still and silent. His breathing was heavy from the exertion.

"What?"

"Not just anyone can seek help from our kind, Harry Potter. You were my champion in the world you have just departed. Since you died, I cannot be the one to send you back, to do so would be direct interference of the kind not allowed by the rules of our existence. However, I can send you to another world. A world that, like yours, is in turmoil, although perhaps they don't know it yet."

"I was your champion? What do you mean? Who are you?" The voice's words had left Harry with more questions than answers.

"You heard the prophecy. I am the one who speaks through Sybill Trelawney."

"What? Like Destiny or Fate or something?"

"Yes."

"Am I dreaming?" Harry asked, exasperated. The voice did not answer and the silence soon stretched into minutes. Finally, it was Harry who spoke again. "How does sending me to another world help me get home to mine?"

"This world has powers in it equal to mine. They are awaiting return, the death of a dark lord who keeps them from returning to their world. I have a champion in this world already, and so I can send another, unblessed by my special powers, without fear of breaking any rules."

"What sort of special powers will I not have? My magic?"

"No, you will simply not be my chosen. You will find you are perhaps not as… what is the mortal word for it… lucky? Yes, I think that will suffice. You will not be as lucky you were previously."

Harry was gobsmacked, and perhaps justifiably outraged. He was about to scream about his luck when he recalled a phrase he often said when he described his adventures. "Honestly, I was lucky…" he breathed.

"You are undeniably brave, within your heart is a fierce warrior born for battle and to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Even the best mortals need a little luck, the favour of fate, or destiny as you call me. I cannot gift you this in this new world. That does not take away who you are though Harry Potter."

"Is this a game to you! My life! The life of your other so called 'champions'! I AM NOT A PAWN!" Harry's voice was horse from all the screaming he had done these past few minutes, and so the best he could manage in all his frustrated rage was a scratching screech that tore at his vocal cords.

"I do not control you, Harry Potter. You do not have to fight because I say so. Mortals are gifted with free will, it is your defining trait as a species. I merely make it easier for you to travel the path should you choose it."

Harry said nothing, unable to scream he preferred silence. Again the silence was allowed to draw on, minutes passing with neither Harry nor Destiny speaking.

This time, it was Destiny that broke the silence. "Do you accept my offer, Harry Potter?"

Harry didn't think about his answer. He had known from the moment it was floated as a possibility that he would do it. He could not leave his friends to suffer at the hands of Voldemort, even if it meant finishing a war he had no right being involved in in the first place.

"Yes," he forced out.

"Good. You will do well to be wary, Harry Potter. This world is just as dangerous, if not more so, that your own. The people who inhabit it have powers that can rival even your own in some ways. Seek out Ozpin, he is a good man, if a little slow to trust, and not always deserving of that trust himself." As Destiny spoke, a great golden light began to form in front of Harry. He could feel the power flowing from the shapeless mass of gold than slowly seemed to be morphing into something.

"Take this," Destiny said, "My final gift to you."

A sword, made of gold and silver metals and humming with power was now present in front of him. He reached out and grasped the handle firmly. The instant he did so, he felt a not unfamiliar pull behind his nasal.

A/N: Wow, this story has been up less than 24 hours and its received a ton of support! Thank you. If anyone is interested in checking out some my of my original work, you can find me over on Wattpad, my username is PhoenixWritings and my story is called The Devil's Pact.

I will try and update this story at least once every-other week.