Okay, so the basics. Hi, My name is Kyuu, I will be your author for this fic. Second fic ever, and I am pretty much winging it so far. Irregular updates should be expected but I am planning on keeping this one up to keep the creative juices flowing. No slash, sorry, but who wants something that they already have? Never understood that. Pairings are unknown for now, most likely some NevLuna. I will have OCs, and I am not sure how they will fit in, like I said, I am winging it. Voting appreciated.

Disclaimer: Please insert standard "I don't own anything except story and OCs" line here.

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Chapter 1

"Guide-speech"

'thinking

spells

"Neutrals-speech"

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Harry felt pain, but he did not really notice it. It was like a feeling at the back of his mind, like he should feel it, but pain really is not that important right now. The whiteish fog around him was much more interesting, not the raven-haired body lying in a pool of its own blood below him. It was more of a curiosity that he watched the large man kick the underfed being as it twitched out of reflex. No emotions ran through him as it coughed up blood and the man gave a victorious grin. The obese boy on the side of the room cheering the man on was enticing no rage in Harry. A woman with sad eyes stood stoically on the far wall, her hand over her mouth, seemingly debating weather to help the boy or stand back and watch.

All this action going on below him had no meaning to Harry. He was floating above it all, a mere spectator of the violence. He only looked over the room due to a compulsion of watching his own demise. He crossed his legs under him and allowed himself to wonder if he was a ghost or a figment of his own imagination attempting to block out the pain. A noise to the side of him made him look over.

A man with a bald head and very high and hollow cheekbones was also watching the violence. He was unnaturally pale and gave off an aristocratic air. He was also made of that fog like substance like Harry and he wore black robes like a wizard. His face was a mix of satisfaction and strangely remembrance of a bad memory. His red eyes turned to Harry, and then they turned back to the beating, lips turning upward in a smirk.

"You and I have more in common than you think, Potter. I am amazed with this that you did not turn to the Dark like me." Voldemort said in a slightly victorious voice, yet a quiet whisper at the same time as though trying to convert a dying boy, "Do you know why I have not attacked this 'home' of yours that you have lived in?"

Harry felt no anger to his enemy, although he knew he should. It all seemed so meaning less as he watched himself hang on to life. "I believe it was some sort of ward, I doubt you even know where it is," Harry responded nonchalantly, "not that it matters anymore. I am going to die anyway."

Voldemort replied matter-of-factly, "I have actually known where it was ever since this summer. Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, right? You are not the only one in this bond of ours who gets a peek into the other's life. I have not attacked it yet because I figured these muggles were taking care of my job for me." He gestured to the bleeding figure below them. "Also, I wanted you to see what I had to go through when I was your age."

Harry tilted his head curiously, he replied in a almost too calm voice, "Yeah, right, the Dark Lord got abused by his aunt and uncle and got shoved in a broom closet until he was eleven. Then he was starved, abused, and killed. All for the 'greater good' of the wizarding world." Harry quoted Dumbledore's favorite line.

Voldemort chuckled, then replied with a slight venom, "I was abused by my father, and later by my mother because I apparently caused him to hate her, starved and beat up by muggles in an orphanage, which I was forced to live in for, as you put it, 'the greater good' until I discovered magic, and even then I could not do it out of school until I was of age, and then I was denied a job in the only place I had ever called home. I later took revenge on those who affronted me and if you would have lived passed your seventeenth birthday, I would assume you would have done the same."

Harry watched his uncle Vernon leave the unmoving body and Petunia and Dudley followed. He said in a voice with a touch of bitterness, "Funny, I always imagined I would die in a fierce duel with you and then kill us both in a last suicidal burst of magic."

Voldemort watched the ghost-like figure next to him and then shook his head, a victoriously dark grin on his face, showing the pure evilness of his soul, "You were by far the most troublesome opponent I have yet to face. What I find ironic is that if you had lived for a half an hour more, you would have come of age and had an influx of magic that caused you to easily destroy your relatives. But, you are already fading and that means you will die in the next few minutes. Goodbye Harry Potter, and do not worry, your 'family' as you call those you are around will soon keep you company where ever you go."

Voldemort's shadow like spirit flickered out of existence and Harry was left alone fading into the fog like area around him. He looked at his broken body and felt himself starting to lose the battle of life. Time seemed to speed up and he ignored its passage around him.

The world was depending on him, and yet it was not quite thankful for it. The Dursleys were his family and they had killed him out of pure prejudice. The war itself had began from prejudice as well. It was as if the entire world had caused its demise and it had looked to a one year old to save it. He decided that it was not worth it and felt his life slip away faster.

His mind flashed to his friends, the only ones who believed him about the Dursleys, how they were most likely asleep in their houses and unaware of the battle for life he was fighting. Sirius, falling into the veil, leaving all hopes of salvation of the world onto Harry. Remus being left alone as the last true Marauder, remembering Harry as his friend's only son. He thought of Dumbledore, so positive of his ward around Privet Drive that no evil could enter. True, no evil wizards could get in, but it had no blocks against Muggles. He remembered the parting words of Voldemort, who was so sure that he could kill everyone Harry loved as soon as he was dead. The flow of life slowed down and Harry felt a bit more solid.

A disembodied male voice weakly spoke in his head, almost in pain, "Stay with me, kid, I don't want to go through this again. Do not let me lose another one."

The shock of hearing someone else anchored Harry to the fog like world more. The voice was deeper than his own but familiar. Harry spoke out, "Hello? Is someone here?"

The voice sounded confused, "You can hear me? The connection normally occurs after the Fusion."

This just confused Harry further. "What's going on? Am I dead yet?"

" I need to fix this mess you are in fast. Hold on kid, you are going on a bumpy ride…"

As soon as the voice finished, Harry felt himself being sucked back into his body. Pain and a blinding light exploded forward from his body and when he opened his mouth to scream, more of the white lights poured out like a beam. His body wracked with seizures and the wounds all over him pounded out more blood. Where the blood once was, magic replaced it throbbing through his veins, burning them yet at the same time healing the pathways. His organs and bones were also covered in the white magic and strengthened, healed, and reinforced. His lungs, which had been punctured and collapsed, were completely replaced by magic, like his bloodstream and veins. Near his magical core, the pathways that had at one point been as thick as the veins and blocked with residual magic from his connection to Voldemort expanded and obliterated the blocks. Now they included his circulatory and respiratory system as well. His bones lengthened and became stronger, making him grow at least three inches and his musculature system also was altered by the magic removing any injuries to it and removing any affects of malnourishment that Harry had gained in his life with the Dursleys. The magic, almost as if it was sentient, healed and altered Harry to be healthy and able to contain the large influx of magic that he was receiving. Finally, Harry's mind was filled with an influx of knowledge from an unknown source. Every scrap of information and memories rearranged themselves and then compacted, ready to reveal themselves when needed. The magic that had spread around the room seemed to quiver then was sucked back into Harry's body and the room was once again normal, excluding the now healed and slightly glowing boy on the ground, who was completely unconscious.

XXX

"………we'll…………boost……….. Fusion…." Voices floated in and out of existence.

"………boy……….dark one………..universe……..help…."

"….Awakening….He is stirring….increase the flow…Harry? Can you hear me?" The one voice he heard earlier spoke. He groaned in pain and opened his eyes, then shut them quickly. The room he was in was all white. He also felt cold and shivered.

He slowly allowed his eyes to adjust and looked around. Instead of a room, he was floating in a sea of pure white. He flailed to get his balance and spun in a circle. "Easy there, kid." A man with bright blue eyes was kneeling on the air in front of him, holding onto his shoulders to allow Harry to get his balance. He had an elongated face and aristocratic air to him and long auburn hair. His eyes held a look of concern and he looked around mid twenties early thirties. He was thin, but not extremely, and his voice was a pleasant baritone. He wore a long tan cloak made of something like deer hide and it was fur lined. It had a hood, but it was down. Underneath it was a black vest and shirt and dark brown pants with Victorian style boots.

"Where am I?" Harry asked when he was also in an upright position. He was surrounded by a group of four people, but the only one he could pick out the physical aspects of was the man in front of him. The others looked like people would if he was not wearing his glasses, fuzzy and unidentifiable. However they wore bright colored outfits, a stark contrast to the neutral color of the man in front of him and the white of the scenery. A figure in bright green said, "He is too unwell. We must stabilize him here until we can further reconstruct his body to handle the power."

A bright blue figure responded in a voice that was identical to the first figure. "Do you accept this burden, Tom? The dimension is flexible, we can abort and recreate this one."

The man known, as Tom responded, "No, this one has been the best so far! The Transition has been accepted, his personality is perfect, the first Challenges have been completed without failure, and the Fusion has almost finished! As his Guard, I accept full Immersion!"

Harry felt as though he had no say in the argument. He watched the man argue what may be his fate and tried to adhere it to his memory.

"This may have negative repercussions to the Universe. Are you prepared to risk the consequences?" A figure in red spoke with the same voice as the other two.

The man nodded, "I know the risks. I have complete faith in him." He looked into Harry's eyes with something akin to pride and hope.

Harry wanted to speak up but found that he had no voice. The unidentifiable figures began spinning around the pair of men and began to speak in a language that Harry could not understand. The colors began to blur together until only pure light remained, making the white background burn intensely. The man known as Tom looked at him and nodded. Then everything turned black.

XXX

Harry opened his eyes and looked around the room. The floor was charred black for an unknown reason. Blood splattered the walls and the memories of the past few weeks began to reveal themselves. Sirius dying, destroying Dumbledore's office, the prophecy, back to the Dursleys, Vernon losing his job, the Dursleys blaming him, the owl post stopping and the room becoming his prison, Dudley suspended from school due to amounts of cocaine found in his gym bag, the neighbors finding out and shunning the Dursleys, the beatings start, Aunt Marge dying from a heart attack, the abuse turns both physical and sexual, the Order missing for some reason, visions of Voldemort's raids against muggles, then the scar burning and the nightmares, Hedwig killed, his books burned, when Harry tried to defend himself with a wand they snapped it, and only his cloak survived under the floorboard, finally the last beating and his "death."

He looked at himself to assess the damage and discovered that he was perfectly healed. He gasped and checked himself over, patting where his scars were from previous beatings and discovered them to be healed. He could see clearly, even without wearing glasses. Almost uncertainly, he reached up and felt the twisted flesh of the lightning bolt scar and sighed. Even miracles had limits it seemed.

"Sorry about that one, kid. We had to keep that there to maintain the Transition. However, you won't have any pain or visions from Voldemort now."

Harry jumped at the voice in his head, it was as if he was listening to thoughts that he had no control over. He thought back, 'Who are you?'

"Oh, right, introductions. I am your Guide, Tom Olavram Elddir, or Tromedlov. I am basically the good version of your enemy. Wait! Don't freak out yet!" Tom said quickly, sensing Harry's utter repulsion and intent to block him out.

'You're just another one of his tricks! You'll end up making me kill another one of my friends and then kill me!'

"Why would Voldemort save you from death?" Tom yelled pushing against the quickly forming blocks in Harry's mind. As soon as he said it, the walls stopped forming.

'Explain yourself.'

"Alright, but I hope you are ready for a long story. Go sit on that uncomfortable bed of ours and put up a few repelling charms."

'I am underage. I can't do magic.'

"You honestly think a few tracking charms withstood that huge blast of magic earlier? You are at the moment more than sixty percent magic yourself, kid! Pull magic from your core and aim it around the doorway. Think about repelling the Muggles and it will do the rest. Magic is more sentient than you think. You even met a part of it earlier in the Void."

Harry tried flicking his hand like he would a wand and was unsurprised when nothing happened. 'What do I have to do again?'

He heard a groan in his head, "PULL the magic. Focus on the part of you that you use for magic. Close your eyes if it helps. I think it is white for you."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to imagine a white blob of energy in his gut and once again failed. "No. Think as if your veins are magic and follow them to the core. Actually, at this point, your veins are magic, so just follow your veins."

Harry gave a start and said in alarm out loud, "What the hell did you do to me?"

"Now, now, no need to talk to the air, people will think you are crazy. Just think."

'I am starting to think I am crazy too. I am talking to a Voldemort with hair, blue eyes, and no desire to kill me.' Harry did not wait for a reply and began to try to locate the feeling of a pulse. He soon found that that did not work.

'I do not have a pulse anymore, do I?'

"Your bloodstream is now made of magic. It can pull the oxygen out through your skin without circulation. That's pretty good because your heart was beyond repair. You were actually dead for around forty seconds."

'Ah…that would explain it.'

"You are thinking too hard. Just move the magic out of your body and imagine the spell. It knows what to do."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to relax, despite the voice in his head that was apparently Voldemort. He began to feel something and grasped at it, trying to keep it at the edge of his consciousness. It swirled around his hand and it felt like he was trying to grasp fog. Suddenly, it became comfortingly warm, like the heat of a hearth, and became solid yet soft like strands of cashmere. He pulled at it gently and it flowed up through his veins and flew out of his fingertips, glowing bright white and splashed onto the wall in front of him without creating a sound. The walls glowed for a bit and then faded, the sounds of his relative's snores muffled like he had a pillow over his ears.

"Well, at least that is some good news. Magic favors you," the voice called Tom ignored Harry's obvious confusion at that statement and continued, "Alright so remember that white place you were in a little while ago?"

Harry didn't answer but tom continued, "That is basically the Core. It is nothing and everything at the same time. The beings inside the Core are the neutrals. They are the ones who are controlling every universe ever created. The infinite tree of universes branches out form every little choice a person makes. Choose a turkey sandwich for lunch? In another world you chose chicken. Even things as tiny as this can change the world. What if Voldemort poisoned the chicken? You survived and your fat cousin didn't because he went in and ate the chicken after you left. See what I am talking about? Oh and do not laugh, that actually happened in my fifth universe."

Harry couldn't look more dumbstruck if you hit him with a wrench. Tom once again ignored this fact and pushed on, "Well, because your life effects how the rest of the world will turn out, the Neutrals are stuck trying to get your life to work out flowingly."

Harry interrupted, 'But what are the neutrals.'

"Neutral Powers, like Time, Magic, Life, Death, etcetera. They keep the world in line so that the Unbalanced, or Good and Evil, don't knock the universes into chaos."

'Oh…Huh?'

"You will figure it out as you go on. So anyway, I am based off of one of the first versions of Voldemort. After Grindelwald was defeated, there was an imbalance on the side of Good. My dimension was a result. Everything was so perfect that the universe became too ordered and there was no balance. This caused a bit of a problem. With everything good, Evil fought back with a worse wizard than Grindelwald. I had already been put on the part of good, so Evil created an evil version of you, kid. Kinda backwards, isn't it? My dimension collapsed and you took over the world with no opposition."

'WHAT?'

"Yeah, life sucked. So the Neutrals created Voldemort and forced Evil to turn you over to Good as payment. This way the battle was evenly sided. So I became the good side of Voldemort, dormant inside his head until one dimension I was transferred into you by accident. So when Voldemort hit you with that killing curse he actually put a part of himself in you, also known as me. The Neutrals were happy with this turn of events and made me your Guide, or a kind of teacher to make you less pathetic, because, you kinda were that time. I only come out of the dormant watcher state when you turn sixteen or so, or if you are hit by a massive blast of magic. Guess we have to add abused to that list. At least this time you weren't almost baked into a pie like that other one…"

Harry soon realized that Tom went off on rants quite often and half the time they don't make sense. 'So you are an earlier Tom Riddle, who is good, and can teach me to defeat Voldemort?"

"Yup, that's it kid. So, first I think we should get out of here. This isn't exactly what I would call a safe learning environment."

'Should I get my invisibility cloak?'

"Won't do much good, the magic burst most likely ruined it. We need to get you some ward training, by the way, to protect that from happening again. Although that cloak is pretty resilient, it may have survived. Good thing your wand had already been snapped, it would have exploded."

Tom smirked, he loved making the kid dumbstruck. 'M-my father's cloak?'

"Check, this is unprecedented. Magic has never gotten so generous as to embed itself into a human before."

Harry did a stiff run to the bed, his new muscles still not used to moving, and dove to the floorboard, peeling it off. He grasped the soft fabric of the cloak and put it around himself. At first he felt panic, it did not make him invisible, then he looked at his outfit in shock.

The baggy bloodstained muggle clothing he wore had transformed into a black, long sleeve button down shirt with silver buttons and hems. It had a design that looked like silver mist on the bottom and cuffs. His pants had transformed into army green cargos and he now wore sneakers. It all fit him perfectly.

"Well that never happened before…" Tom said in interest, "Seems like that lovely little cloak has become all purpose. It transforms your clothing into whatever you want to wear. You could make a fortune off those things if you could create more of them."

Harry concentrated on being invisible and after a bit of thought, the clothing melted into nothingness along with his body.

"Bloody hell…"

"We can have so much fun with this. Speaking of fun, how about we get out of this miserable place soon? Your uncle may come back up to get rid of the 'body' that should be here. We need to fix that too."

'How can I fix that?!'

"Magic plus wizard equals fake dead body." Tom said in what Harry now referred to as his 'Teacher' voice.

Harry pulled from his core again and tried to find that cashmere feeling, and he discovered it was a lot easier now. He thought of the fake corpse in as much gruesome detail as possible and tossed the magic out of his arm like one would throw a baseball. It landed gracefully on the ground and made an unusual splattering noise. A disturbingly realistic clone of a dead Harry appeared on the ground.

Harry looked at his hands in confusion and asked Tom, 'How am I doing all of this? I never could do anything like this.'

Harry could feel Tom's smirk, "Your body is made out of mostly magic, kid. Also, I may have unlocked some experience from your past selves. You can now speak fluent Japanese, Italian, Lawyer, French, Latin, Spanish, German, Celtic and some Portuguese. Oh, and you can read Egyptian and Mesopotamian ancient writing. One of your versions told Voldemort to go screw himself, left the country and decided to go help future yous by learning all of the boring stuff like languages and travel the world. I must say that was one of the most helpful dimensions I have been in.."

'Seriously?' Harry couldn't remember a single time when he enjoyed studying, let alone learn several languages. 'Isn't that cheating?'

"Technically you did learn it at one point. As for the spells, Magic just comes naturally to you, although you are wasting a lot of it when you use a spell, hence the splatter of excess magic, but we will work on that. Now, once again, I am highly encouraging you to leave now before your uncle comes." Tom's voice gained a bit of urgency.

Harry opened his window and took one last look around the room, then hopped out of the window into the perfectly trimmed hydrangea bushes. It was a rough landing, but when he looked at the scrapes on his arms, he watched as they healed in a small sparkle of magic. He smirked and hopped out and turned invisible and walked out into the street.

He got a kind of grim pleasure as he walked unseen past an old woman on the sidewalk. She had just tripped on a crack and then jumped up with too much agility for an old woman and looked around the block to see if anyone saw. Harry almost snorted; Tonks had no knowledge of being "undercover."

If his guards were this easy to slip past, he feared that the Death Eaters could have trudged straight into his house and killed him without them even knowing, after all, he had already been killed once this week. He walked all the way down the street and down Bluebell Lane before he stopped

'So, Tom, which way to London?'

"Well, your next lesson is to Apparate, seeing as we can't work on Phasing until later. Close your eyes and concentrate on the image of… the park, a good practice target. Now instead of bringing the magic up your arm, fill your body with it and push yourself to the park."

It took Harry a few tries, but he ended up succeeding. When he felt himself being sent somewhere, he opened his eyes and with a pop, he fell a foot out of the air and horizontal, landing on his tailbone. After catching the wind that was knocked out of him, he stood up and brushed himself off, thanking whatever deity existed that no one was around to see that.

"I will make fun of you for it later."

If Harry could glare at the man, he would. 'where to now?'

"How about the back alley to the ministry? That is a target where no one will go near until a sensible hour and it is close to Diagon Ally."

Harry felt a little uneasy visiting the place where the battle was so soon, but he knew it was for the best. With a bust of magic, he disappeared with a pop and reappeared sitting on top of the telephone booth. 'Bloody hell! So close!'

"At least you still have all your fingers. At least the wards are still down from that fight, or we would have been blasted backwards. "

He hopped down and walked out of the alley when he almost crashed into the one person he was not expecting to see, Draco Malfoy. The blond was stalking towards the alley way and looked in like he was searching for something. He muttered, "I could have sworn I had heard a pop…"

Harry held his breath for a few agonizing seconds until Malfoy turned back to the street and returned to pacing. Malfoy thought, 'Guess I am just nervous.'

Having nothing better to do except satisfy his curiosity, Harry put a silencing spell on his feet and body and followed Draco. The boy was pacing in front of the alley, as if deciding to do something. He growled in frustration and left down another street. After a few twists and turns, he noticed that Draco kept looking over his shoulder then ducking unexpectedly down a corner. 'The git acts like he knows I am following him.'

"When someone is doing something that they know is wrong, they tend to get paranoid. Keep on him."

Draco dodged through the deserted backstreets and after a while slowed down and stopped, panting, believing he lost his tail. Harry had nearly lost the trail a few times, but managed to keep track of the Slytherin. When he stopped in the alley, Malfoy slumped to the ground in slight distress. His face hidden in his arms for a while, Harry swore he heard sobs and had to pity his rival. However when he lifted his head, there was no evidence of tears except for the spots on his cloak.

He stood up and sighed. Malfoy reached into his pocket and took out a small watch with gold and silver designs. Tom immediately shouted, "Grab it!

Harry lunged forward and got a finger on the Portkey just as the words "Malfoy Manor" fell from Draco's lips. He felt the familiar pull on his navel and watched as the alley disappeared in a blur of color.

When the blurring stopped, Harry almost fell to the floor but managed to twist himself in the air and land on his feet like a cat, and landing just as quietly. He looked around the room and felt like he fell through the looking glass. He found himself in a large blue and grey bedroom with a set of wooden furniture and many windows. The bed was a decent size and had a bedspread with silver designs swirling on it.

He was therefore shocked when Malfoy collapsed on the bed in relief. 'This can't be his room! It should be black silver and green with snakes everywhere and no outside light! And rusty torture devices! And swords!'

"You know that he was your best friend for half of your dimensions right? You were his best man for his wedding in a majority of those."

Harry's brain broke. He luckily had the foresight to put on the silencing spell, or Draco would have cursed the origin of the stupid stuttering. He didn't think he could be more surprised if Voldemort jumped out of a giant cake in front of him with a target sign painted on his face. Tom loved to prove him wrong, "In all of these dimensions I have been to, one thing is common. He had always been abused. I don't think this one is any different."

Harry felt a twang of sympathy for the boy. He went through the same thing as Harry did. He jumped in surprise when Narcissia Malfoy knocked on the door and entered the room. She was holding a locket with an S emblazed in gold. Draco groaned.

Narcissia said, "Oh good, you're awake. Our lord needs you to bring this to Borgin and Burkes after the initiation. You will get further instructions after you are marked. Your father is home too, and in a bad mood so stay out of sight."

Draco's face showed his distress, "Is the initiation tonight?"

"Tomorrow, and act happy about it! Joining our lord may make your father believe that you are useful! Useful things are a lot less expendable. Look dear, I am just trying to protect you. This war has been hard on all of us, if there was a way I could keep you out of it, I would, but we don't have that luxury."

Harry felt like he shouldn't be watching this. In an impulse, he asked Tom, 'Is there anything I can do to help him? He seems just as stuck in this as I am. He obviously is going to get the Dark Mark soon, can I prevent that in anyway.'

"Our next destination before this excursion was going to be a mansion that you own on a small private isle in the Virgin Islands where we could train you, maybe we could make a Portkey for him to go there for a bit. A letter maybe?" Tom felt a bit proud that his charge could forgive someone that quickly. Maybe he had a bit of the gift of empathy, but this turn of events definitely could be helpful to the plan in the future. The kid desperately needed allies that were not tied to Dumbledore like his friends were.

'Won't his pride reject the idea of going to me for help?'

"We will go there first to prevent Icing from telling him whose house it is. Not to mention disguise the family crests. Believe it or not, the Potter's crest is not really so obviously Gryffindor as you would think, actually there is a lot of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff blood in there too. Your family colors are actually gold and blue and the interior designers of that specific mansion were pretty varied with their color palette for the house. I doubt that even Malfoy would make the connection between you and the house."

'How will I make the Portkey if I have never been there?'

"You haven't, but your alternate versions have. Everyone's different versions are locked inside of them, it just takes a bit of unknotting to find, normally by a Guide like me."

Tom took a few minutes, but soon Harry felt as if he had lived in that house for most of his life. When he came out of the memory, he discovered that Narcissia had left and enough time had passed that Draco was out cold. Smirking, Harry went over to Draco's desk and grabbed a blank sheet of parchment and began to write a letter.

When he was done, he placed the Portkey spell on it and placed it at the door, sealing it shut with a bit of wax from Draco's desk and, from Tom's suggestion, cast a bit of magic into it that created a seal to match the caster. Harry smirked when he saw the beautifully detailed tree image that seemed to branch off forever. 'A bit too ironic?'

"No such thing."

Taking careful care to open the window gently, Harry leaped out and once again fell into carefully trimmed bushes. The lilac bush was a bit of a softer landing than the hydrangeas, but they still hurt. 'Am I going to make a habit out of this?'

"Most likely. Make another Portkey to the mansion quickly before the house elf comes to fix the bushes you destroyed."

Harry reached down and snatched up a blue and green stone from the ground and muttered "portus"

The world once again spun around and Harry felt nauseous. The trip through space took much longer than normal. He felt as if he was being pushed through layers of membranes and each one left a burning itchy feeling. After what seemed like ages, the wormhole spat him out and he collided with the ground in a crash.

After being introduced to Caribbean sand for the first time, Harry got up coughing and sputtering. 'What the flippin bloody hell was that?!'

He shook out the cloak, which he was happy to note stayed on him until he wanted it off, and brushed off his new clothes, which he also was pleased to see stayed on him.

"That was a long distance Portkey. Now, lets get inside and feed you. You don't have to eat as often as normal humans, but you should really get some food into you."

Harry took a look around him and sighed in pleasure. The warm breeze blew his hair around playfully and warmed him and the sun began to tan his pale skin. The constant lapping of the cool turquoise waves was soothing and gentle. The palm trees gave off wonderful shade and Harry had to believe this was paradise. He walked over to the edge of the beach and gasped.

The mansion was a beautiful white painted stone building with two stories and two symmetrical wings coming out of the central building. The roof was black shingles and old brick chimneys and had a set of Victorian style turrets before each of the wings. A Quidditch pitch rose up in the background and the land was beautifully landscaped with a bright green color grass. Flowers and some trees, which could never live in the warm climate naturally, thrived in the magical garden and Harry swore he saw magical plants growing there too. Animals like tropical birds-of-paradise and other creatures flew around the area, and Harry saw the antlers of a familiar creature duck behind a large willow. Harry now knew he had seen a place that could only exist in a dream. The memories he had seen had only showed the interior of the house, and to see it in person made those images seem far too shallow.

Tom had a bit of a cruel streak going, "Well enjoy it while you can, you just forfeited it up to Malfoy."

Harry froze in place and groaned loudly, almost in pure agonizing pain over the idea. 'No, this place can't be destroyed like that!' Images of the house in flames and the animals running away in fear flitted through his mind, Malfoy chasing after with a butcher's knife.

"Oh stop being melodramatic. The house is huge and if need be, we can use the map to avoid him."

'Map?'

"you don't seriously believe that the Hogwarts Marauder's map is the only one of its kind do you? This is one of the ancestral homes of the Potters. Sirius and James lived here after school and created a Map to keep out of Lily and any of Sirius's girlfriend's way."

Tom had made a huge mistake saying Sirius's name. Any joy and positive emotion turned to dust and blew out of Harry's mind. His thoughts turned to ones of guilt and remorse, not to mention made him completely ignore Tom.

"Veil…veil… what was I supposed to tell you about that… Oh, right! That's just a doorway into Death's home universe and all I have to do is put in a return request. But of course you are disregarding the eons old persona of infinite wisdom in favor of teenage angst. I will leave you to it then." Tom said with a twinge of sarcasm.

'My fault, all my fault, could have used the mirror, all my fault…did you say something Tom?' Harry's brain droned in depression.

"Me? Oh no, no its nothing, carry on," Tom said with a wave of his hand, dismissingly. "it will take ages for that form to reach him anyhow. Give it a few weeks and then I will send someone to find him."

XXX

The Neutral Death sat at his desk, or what could have been a desk at one point were it not for the millions of papers stacked on and around it with new ones coming in every second. He was a figure with no definite form or shape but was associated with the color dark purple. The part of him that could be thought of as a hand was busy scribbling away at the papers and no matter how fast he could write, they kept appearing. So, when a bright neon pink paper airplane shot into the room and poked him in-between what may look kind of like a pair of eyes if you turned your head the right way, you can imagine how aggravated he was. He growled in a non-angry monotone voice, "At least Life has just the same amount of paperwork."

He unfolded the pink slip and shouted into the air in the same voice only louder, "HEY LIFE, ONE OF YOURS FELL INTO ONE OF THE HOLES AGAIN! I AM GONNA SEND HIM BACK!"

In the lair above Death's dimension, connected to it by a pit, Life was also furiously writing. He was more of a light lavender and was hit at the same time with a bright neon green paper airplane. He heard Death shout a minute later and replied down the pit, in the same exact monotone voice, "I JUST GOT THE MEMO, IT'S SIRIUS BLACK FROM THE CURRENT MAINSTREAM, WE DON'T WANT HIM BACK!"

Death shouted back in what would have been a panicked voice if he had emotion, "I HAVE MORE PEOPLE HE CAN ANNOY AND HE BELONGS TO YOU! I ALREADY HAVE THE JAMES POTTER FROM THIS DIMENSION, WE CAN'T HANDLE HIM YET, WE DON'T WANT HIM EITHER!"

At the same moment two bright highlighter yellow paper airplanes shot faster than before and went straight through the pair. They unfolded Howler-style. A voice identical to Life and Death shouted, "LIFE, THIS IS MAGIC SPEAKING, HE IS GOING BACK! AS A WIZARD, HE IS UNDER MY AUTHORITY. DEATH, YOU WILL TAKE HIM LATER WITHOUT ARGUMENT! NOW GET BACK TO WORK!"

Life ignored Death's no emotion victory dance and sighed, grabbing the newly appeared form and signed it with a flourish and a stamp.

XXX

Elsewhere in a forest older than Hogwarts somewhere near Easter Island, there was another veil in a small clearing. The silent forest was disturbed by a man in a black cloak being violently thrown out of the veil and landing face-first onto the ground. He sat up and dusted himself off, checking his pocket to discover a wand and food. He stood up then pouted, and said in a rejected voice, "I can't believe they didn't want me… Where is the love?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

This fic will have chapters that are a bit shorter than my other one, but will most hopefully update sooner. I have a lot of ideas for this one…

Thanks for reading!