(AN:) Fun fact, I've had four false starts to this story so far. Then I decided to combine it with a concept I had abandoned due to lack of ideas. Basically, the multiverse of "Masters of Death" Harry Potters meet in the Veil for leisure and sometimes pleasure. They have multiverses of powerup items and abilities to tack on for when they want to go somewhere else.

No real crossover ideas here, suggestions welcome.

"The Veil of Death" sounded so melodramatic, but to most, it was an accurate moniker. After all, a rough estimate of ninety-nine point nine percent of things that go into the Veil never come back. Of course, a rough estimate could be accurate or completely off; that's why it was an estimate.

According to the Unspeakables who were entrusted with the Veil so very long ago, the only thing that can come and go freely, that point one percent, was an individual meeting certain criteria. Criteria they weren't particularly privy to, but when the individual shows up bearing a letter with certain key phrases, they were to let them through without question.

That was how one Harry James Potter found himself staring up at the thing that had swallowed up Sirius Black incredulously. He was still aching from the war and if the letter he'd received was right, he'd be given some much needed therapy and help. If it was wrong…Well, he'd done his part, really. It wouldn't be so bad, right?

He shrugged, closed his eyes, and took that last step into the thing, shivering at how bloody cold it was. There was a brief falling sensation then the chill dissipated and he was pleasantly warm.

His eyes still hadn't opened when he heard a voice much like his own say in a welcoming tone, "Ah! There you are! We were wondering if you would show. Most of us do tend to err on the side of caution when it comes to the Potter Portus. I mean, it's understandable, given what happened to Sirius in most of our realities…"

Harry was absolutely stunned. In the middle of the speech, he'd opened his eyes and saw that the man speaking to him was…himself! Well, a version of himself that looked better fed, lacked glasses, and spoke confidently, all while sitting behind a table with a load of blank name tags littered about its surface.

"Err…" he so eloquently replied.

His clone? waved his hand airily and said, "I understand completely. It's a little overwhelming. If you're looking for a word to use for us, by the way, most of us prefer 'Alternates'. Now, we only get the message when someone like us has united the Hallows, not the circumstances. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask you to relax any occlumency you may or may not practice so that I can sort out a tag for you."

"Uuh, right. As long as you're not as forceful as Snape or Voldemort, I guess it's fine," he muttered. His eyes met the exact same shade and shape of his clone's and it was like a feather was tickling his brain for the briefest of moments. Too quick to be concentrated on, flashes of memories sped by, the Dursleys, dementors, Sirius, Voldemort…It was too fast to do anything more than see fleeting images. Not long after it started, the tickling ceased.

"Well, that simplifies things. Let's get you a name tag, shall we?" his alternate said with a smile. A lazy swish of an exact copy of the Elder Wand over a name tag changed the blank spot to 'NCCB Henry "Harry" Potter'. With a smooth wave, a sealed envelope appeared floating and the name tag floated over to pin itself to the standing Harry's chest. "Now, what's going to happen is you'll take this letter to medical down the hall and get yourself fixed up. It'll be clearly labeled, so that shouldn't be an issue.

"You'll be in medical for a while, I think. But thankfully, time doesn't pass normally here, so that's not a problem. After you've been cleared, you can go to the common area and mingle; you can go to the library to read; you can go to the tutors to be taught whatever you might need as long as the tutor is available; or whatever you want. The sky's the limit and there's no sky here!

"Now, in medical, if the healer is named Holly, I'd recommend avoiding flirting with her unless you're into incest because she sure as hell is. Because on a genetic level, we're all more or less siblings here if that makes any sense. And I believe that's everything you need currently, so please move along and make way for the next arrivals!"

Harry stared at his alternate unblinkingly, goggling at the implications and outright strangeness of the explanation, but he nodded and snatched up the letter regardless. He stared down at the name tag for a moment and asked, "What does 'NCCB' mean?"

"Ah, 'Near Canon Compliant with the Books'. Someone inside will explain it to you later," his alternate said, waving his hand airily.

He just shrugged, nodded, and headed deeper inside, looking around a rather plain hallway that was sparsely decorated with generic animal photos and wooden benches. However, the doors he passed were labeled interestingly enough: "Artifacts", "Weapons", "Weapons that are also Artifacts", "Training", "Medical Wing", "Ballroom", "Movie Theatre", "Vehicles"…

Wait, he passed his destination. He quickly doubled back and hesitantly opened the door to the Medical Wing. Inside was a perfect replica of the Hogwarts Medical Wing.