I do not own harry potter or game of thrones

All around Harry was a white mist, it was thick enough that he couldn't even see three feet in front of him. He couldn't remember how he got here or where here even was, this was strange, but then again something strange was normal for him. Even as a child strange things happened and his dear aunt and uncle beat him whenever they did, oh how he hated them. When the surprising opportunity to get away from them and learn magic came up he jumped at the chance, but finding out he was famous for surviving the killing curse, when he learned the truth it just made him think about the parents he never knew.

He was ashamed to say he hadn't actually started out as trying to be the best wizard he could be, during his first year he just wanted to be a normal student despite being famous. His first friend Ron kept them from doing too much but then they had to rush their work, he thought this would be the new normal for him. Then there was the incident on Halloween and he became known as the boy who knocked out a troll, well he did gained a friend in Hermione after that and she was much better than Ron when it came to studying.

He'd even managed to become the Gryffindor seeker through sheer luck when Malfoy decided to act like a prick. He got the last laugh though when he won the match within the first five minutes.

The rest of the year was pretty much fine until he came face to face with the man who killed his parents and caused him to suffer at the hands of the Dursley's, Voldemort himself. He was not ashamed to say he was scared, terrified even, when he saw him, how he burned him is still a mystery since Dumbledore wouldn't share, sometime in the hospital wing was better than the alternative.

During his last weeks at school he read everything he could find on Voldemort and that he had enhanced his strength over the years. Why he was after him he didn't know but what was certain was that he didn't stand a chance against someone with decades more experience than him. Now he had some real motivation to put into his studies for the next time because he didn't believe Voldemort would stop.

During his second year Harry put more effort into his magical studies and when Ron tried to get him to spend his time playing chess or doing little to nothing he just walked off. He was not naive enough to believe something wouldn't happen to him again and he didn't want to be vulnerable or ill prepared when that time comes.

It was during one of these times where he'd wandered the castle looking for a place to be alone that he found the room of requirement and it provided him with books on numerous rituals that could help him. Taking advantage of this he had done numerous rituals to be able to match Voldemort over the years, though he made sure no one knew about it, rituals were considered dark after all.

He started off with some of the easier rituals first, ones to reduce the amount of sleep he needed, the amount of food he required, strengthening his bones and muscles, increasing the efficiency of his organs, harden his skin, increased his healing ability, enhancing his sight and hearing, fixing his eyes in the process, little ones like that. Though his glasses had been rendered unnecessary he now wore fake ones so no one would question him about why he no longer needed them.

Just like last year something happened on Halloween and he just knew it was going to involve him, he was right. His life took a bad turn and everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin just because he was a parselmouth, oh how he hated being treated like a pariah, but it did do one good thing for him. With everyone against him, he disappeared for hours every day to go to the room of requirement to perform even more rituals to strengthen his body and magic, he didn't care that the whole school thought he went to the chamber of secrets.

He'd even resigned from the Quidditch team because of the way treated and then they had the nerve to ask him why he did it. Well at least without Wood's crazy training times he could spend more time getting stronger, and he thought he was justified considering people were getting petrified.

That part did annoy him, students were petrified and the staff did nothing but dump them in the hospital wing and go about their day. He was going to keep his head down and let them deal with this thing but when Hermione got petrified he got serious, and he may have punched Malfoy in the face.

Anyway with some research and the paper in Hermione's hand he and Ron found the chamber of secrets in moaning Myrtle's bathroom and went down to save Ron's sister who had been taken but they got separated in the tunnels, forcing him to go on alone.

Oh he'd dealt with the basilisk alright by stabbing it with the sword of Gryffindor right through the roof of its mouth and got a tooth stuck in his arm for the trouble. He was very lucky Fawkes was there to heal the wound after he stabbed the fang into the diary containing Voldemort's younger self. Thus he saved Ginny and the phoenix was even kind enough to give all three of them a lift back up the shaft they came down.

When they got out of the chamber and back to the bathroom Lockhart was there and tried to obliviate them but that ended up with Harry disarming him and breaking his legs. When they got to Dumbledore's office the authorities were called and Lockhart was arrested and sent to Azkaban, couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

That summer his fat aunt Marge came to visit and that ended up with him blowing her up and taking the night bus to Diagon Alley, well at least he was out of that house.

During his third year he was attacked by dementors on the train but they were driven off by their new defence teacher Remus Lupin, lucky him. Hogwarts was pretty much the same routine for him, go to classes, he picked runes and arithmancy as electives, and when he'd done the work he went back to increasing his power however a problem soon arose. When he had done all of the rituals that didn't require spell components he'd hit a wall since he couldn't get the ingredients he needed at Hogwarts. He knew some of them could be bought in Diagon alley and that Gringotts also had a service he could use so he owl ordered most of what he needed, such as vampire blood and werewolf hair, at this point he hadn't started on the darker rituals yet. He was glad these rituals kept him away from the hospital wing, he couldn't stand being stuck in a bed for days and they might find out about his new abilities.

He'd also found out while waiting for the ingredients that there were also permanent effect potions he could use to get stronger. One of which was able to get rid of the scars inflicted on him by the Dursley's and the basilisk bite, now he wasn't as self-conscious about his body as before. The result of having basilisk venom and phoenix in his blood meant that he was now practically immune to any poison and disease and his blood was deadly to others, he could cut himself with a blade and the blood would kill the target with just a scratch.

While browsing the books for more potions that would help he came across a few that mentioned something called mind arts. Now that got his attention seeing as up to now he'd only been focusing on his body and magic and neglecting his mind. He asked for a few books on mind arts and the room provided by giving him books on basic Occlumency and Legilimency, honestly he didn't think he would have the talent for them but actually proved to be exceptional at them and ended up with some really good mental shields after a few months.

He'd even harvested the basilisk in secret since practically every piece of it was useful, particularly in rituals, though he did sell the meat to the goblins since it was apparently a delicacy to them.

When rescuing Sirius he'd asked if he could teach him to become an animagus even if it was hard. He was told that the Marauders used a different method than the ministry allows, one that was much faster since it only took a few months instead of years. Sirius sent him a copy of the method he use and Harry started on it as soon as he got it, most of his summer was spent working of completing the transformation.

Nothing spectacular happened at the quidditch world cup other than him blasting a few death eaters that showed up, he might have actually killed some of them and honestly he hoped he had.

Forth year was both a blessing and a curse, he got dragged into a tournament he wanted nothing to do with but because of that he was able to become emancipated, now he had real money to spend, and blasting Dumbledore into a wall when he lost his temper was really therapeutic. Not only that but not long after the announcement he finally achieved his animagus form, an adolescent black acid spitting dragon, so named for its ability to spit acid as well as fire. He kept the fact that he was an animagus a closely guarded secret, no need to let an advantage like that be known.

Truly he was unbelievably thankful for his animagus form or else that dragon would have fried him. He wasn't going to reveal it in front of everyone but its abilities did carry over to his human form, because of this only his clothes were destroyed when that dragon tried to roast him. Tougher skin, better eyesight, immune to fire and extreme heat and cold, winter in Scotland didn't bother him, he could honestly say he loved his animagus form.

His animagus form combined with some of the earlier rituals resulted in his body processing food more efficiently than it did before, meaning it does not store any excess fat and he possesses a greater proportionate muscle mass than he already did. His already enhanced eyes could now withstand the high speed winds that come with flying which would damage the average human eye, and his ability to breathe at high velocities and altitudes also went through the roof, good thing for him.

In the gap between the first and second tasks he managed, barely, to perform what was his favourite and most dangerous of all the rituals so far, using Re'em's blood to increase his strength. Now while he'd done something similar with other rituals and now had the equivalent strength of a giant, Re'em's were the physically strongest magical creatures on the planet. Their blood was rare since getting it was nearly always fatal and the one vial he had cost him more than his trust vault ever had, if he didn't have access to his family vault he would have never gotten it.

Anyway the ritual worked a little too well, it filled him with energy but it didn't limit the level of strength he got and it nearly killed him as a result. He had to burn off the excess energy and strength just to survive and while he had to give up most of his new strength he was now as twice strong as a giant, well almost. Well at least the one used to expand his magical core didn't go the same way, though it didn't expand as much as he thought it would.

The last ritual he'd performed that year, just after the second task and boy was he thankful for the gillyweed, was one which was supposed to awaken any dormant power he had, and oh boy did this one have issues. After some research he discovered that he was a minor metamorphmagus, one that could only change the colour of his eyes as well as the length and colour of his hair, it was useful but learning how to control it was a bloody nightmare. He had to play his constantly shifting hair and eye colours off as his magic reacting to the stress of him being in the tournament, he didn't think everyone believed him but thankfully no one looked into it.

There was one major side effect of all the rituals he performed, his skin paled several shades, not enough to look unhealthy but it was definitely noticeable.

Honestly the third task, a maze, was easy to get through, he got to the cup first but did not expect it to be a port key which took him to a graveyard were Pettigrew used a ritual to bring back the dark wanker. He ended up having to fight the snake faced bastard and even kill a few of the death eaters that showed up before escaping and discovering that Barty Crouch Jr. had been impersonating Mad Eye Moody. That idiot Fudge had him kissed instead of questioned about the return of Voldemort and didn't believe Harry when he said he was back, the moron.

That summer Harry survived another dementor attack at privet drive by getting the hell out of there, which resulted in all the Dursley's having their souls sucked out but he just thought it was karma.

He ended being collected and sent to Grimmauld place by the order of the phoenix where he found out that the ministry was slandering him in the paper.

With the ministry slandering him he'd taken precautions and, despite Dumbledore's protests, he went to Diagon Alley and removed everything belonging to him from Gringotts, which he found out via an inheritance test was more than he thought as he was descended from the Potters, Peverells and Gryffindor by blood and claimed Slytherin by right of conquest. Something strange happened with the rings, after the goblins had cleansed the Peverell ring, whatever that meant, he'd put them on and they merged into an square cut black diamond on a Mithril band, the house crests were no longer visible.

It was upon realizing how much money he actually had at his disposal he decided to that he had the goblins purchase every multi compartment expanded trunk they could get within a day, a few hundred apparently, and ward them as much as they could. Then he had them put entire contents of all his vaults in them and then he would have them all neatly stashed away within his custom made, heavily modified expanded trunk which was stored inside one of the mokeskin pouches that he kept with him at all times and charmed to prevent anyone noticing or opening it.

Honestly he'd gotten slightly paranoid over the years, though with everything that's happened to him and all the near death experiences he'd had some might call it common sense, Moody certainly would. He could imagine what the one eyed auror would say clearly, when everyone's out to get you paranoia's just plain old common sense, words of wisdom.

Also in the trunks were numerous books, potions, ingredients and a bunch of other stuff he thought he would need on hand with him. He'd paid the goblins quite well to get him every book, potions and their ingredients, seeds, cauldrons of varying sizes and materials, from both Diagon and knockturn Alley. At least a dozen of the trunks were filled with fine clothes and leathers for all weather and another few dozen were filled with ingots of pure gold and silver with others containing precious gems of various sizes. He'd even asked a specialised trunk containing a potions lab so he could make more properly.

He stored a few wizarding tents, some emergency potions in another mokeskin pouch along with some galleons, sickles and Knuts in case he had to disappear and couldn't reach the bank. Harry even stored his broom in there, but he no longer really needed it to fly, having learned how to perform limited flight unaided from books provided by the room. He seriously abused the hell out of the room of requirement on a regular basis, and was genuinely surprised when it didn't come back to bite him in the ass like every other time things were going his way.

And that brings us to this year, in all honestly he really wished he had a better defence teacher but once again he was saved by the one thing that never let him down. Just as it helped him with runes and arithmancy the room had provided information on the dark arts, now while he studied them Harry didn't delve into the dark arts to the same level as Voldemort, he was still a good, well mostly good, guy just not the as light as everyone believed. While some might say you couldn't be light if you studied the dark arts Harry thought it was better to know what he was up against rather than go into a fight blind, prudent thinking really.

Since DADA was pointless with Umbridge as the new Professor he skipped the class altogether and when she gave him a week's worth of detentions he didn't bother showing up. That made McGonagall have words with him but he turned it around by asking her if she would put pleasing that bitch ahead of protecting the students, he didn't wait for her answer and stormed out.

When the toad started implementing those useless educational decrees Hermione and Ron wanted to form some kind of defence club and have him teach it, he declined and said it was better to just ignore the bitch, it worked for him. Another reason was that he didn't want them finding out about the room of requirement, he didn't just use it to get ahead it was also a place he could relax away from everyone.

Later in the year somehow one of his requests had the room also provided him with books on how to create a philosopher's stone, one of them was even Flamels journal, immortality and money you bet he read them. He found out that the stone could do more than just making the elixir of life and create gold, it could also be used to make different metals.

Then during his History OWL they saw the vision of Sirius being tortured by Voldemort and when he asked Kreacher he was told Sirius went to the ministry, he shouldn't have listened to that old elf. Long story short he went along to the ministry of magic and ended up in a place with glowing blue orbs which were actually prophecies and ended up in a trap and having to fight Voldemort's inner circle of death munches.

He bet they were expecting him to be easy prey for their more experienced fighters but oh boy did they get it. Honestly he never knew why the so called light side didn't shoot to kill when the other side did, so he didn't bother with silly things like stunners and went straight for the kill and half of the death eaters died, covering the walls in bits of gore.

Funny how every time he met Voldemort or his pets he always managed to survive, he guessed everything he'd done to increase his power paid off. Oh how he wished he could have got Lucius so at least Draco couldn't say 'when my father hears about this'. Wait now he remembered, he had been blasted through the veil during the fight. Wait the veil, what did Lucius call it, the veil of death and he went through it.

"Where am I? Am I dead?"

"Yes, you are dead, for the moment at least," a female voice echoed from the mist.

A dark shape where there had previously been nothing seemed to appear and was coming closer to him and the closer it got the easier it was to tell the shape was that of a woman.

She looked like she was in her early twenties, standing at a good six feet with a slender build, porcelain skin with noticeable curves perfectly proportioned to her body. Long midnight black hair cascaded down her back leaving her sharp refined face visible and displaying her deep emerald green eyes, the shade perfectly identical to Harry's.

She was clad in a low cut black dress that hugged her curves yet showed a generous amount of her cleavage, and there in the centre of her chest where the heart would be was the symbol of the deathly hallows.

"Who are you," inquired Harry.

"I am Death young Harry," she said, "and I am here to talk to you,"

"Are you really Death," the entity nodded making Harry sigh, "well given my life I've often wondered what death would look like but I didn't think it would be as beautiful as you, and what do you mean by I'm dead for the moment,"

Death chuckled, "oh you flatterer. And about the dead part well, Voldemort created horcruxes to escape me, he split his soul to avoid dying but when you defeated him when he came for you that night a piece lodged itself in your scar. Due to you possessing two souls in your body when you passed through the veil this presents a unique situation for you,"

"You mean there's been a piece of that bastard in me all these years," he was both disgusted and outraged.

Though that did explain why he always felt pain whenever Voldemort was near but still, having a piece of that wanker in his head since he was a baby, how could someone have missed that.

"Yes, but by bringing it here through the veil you have directly handed it to me and now I can claim him myself. Even if his soul is split the pieces are still linked," Death explained, "since one of them came through the veil I can drag the rest of them here directly instead of waiting for them to be destroyed one by one,"

"So Voldemort will be gone permanently this time," asked Harry, he didn't want to have to keep looking over his shoulder waiting for an attack.

"Yes, but not just him. The dark mark links him to his followers in a way that essentially makes them an extension of himself, so when he dies everyone with the dark mark will follow him to his grave,"

That statement caused Harry to pause, as far as he knew a few hundred wizards were marked and if they all died then it would lead to some serious damage to wizarding Britain. That might lead to situations where his friends might end up in trouble and either have to flee Britain or get sucked into something stupid the ministry will do because of the death of hundreds of purebloods. On the other hand some of those same purebloods had made him think Sirius was here in the ministry and attacked him when he showed up so what did he care if they died.

"Good, the world is better off without them anyway,"

"You have become quite hard hearted over the years haven't you,"

"Considering my life can you blame me," he said shrugging.

"I guess I can't," she rubbed her thumb over his scar erasing it from his forehead, "the horcrux is gone, soon all the other soul pieces will follow bringing Voldemort here and soon after all those who he has marked,"

That was an interesting piece of information. A world without Voldemort and the likes of Lucius Malfoy, a world he could enjoy, and a world he wouldn't be in because of what Death said next.

"I can give you the chance to go back to the living world but not the one you left behind,"

"Huh,"

"There are many worlds besides your own, parallel worlds you could call them. In times long past there were ways to breach the gaps with magic and travel dimensions but such is beyond the power of wizards in your world now," she explained, "while the soul shard in your scar gives you the chance to live again I cannot return you to your world,"

Harry really didn't have to think much about that, back home he was seen as a hero and expected to live up to impossible standards or he was seen as the next dark lord and treated like a pariah, he only had one thing to say about that.

"I'm fine with that, I only have one or two friends back there anyway. Everyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care, so can you tell me where I'll be going,"

"We'll get to that in a moment Harry," Death spoke, "first I need to talk to you about some items you own, three items known as the deathly hallows,"

"Deathly what, I've never heard of them," he said.

"The deathly hallows were said to be three highly powerful magical artefact given to the three Peverell brothers by Death for managing to outsmart him. They consisted of the elder wand, an immensely powerful wand that was considered to be unbeatable, the resurrection stone which could summon the spirits of the dead, and the cloak of invisibility, which was supposed to renders its user completely invisible even from Death," she explained, "ha, foolish tales, they couldn't bloody get things right and wizards were supposed to be good at remembering things. Not only did they call me a man but they completely messed up the power of the hallows. The wand was not unbeatable, it just amplified its owner's power and the stone merely summoned an echo of someone the user knew, not the spirit of the real person, idiots. And the cloak, well the only difference between it and others is that it can't be summoned from its owner and won't fade after a decade like others and they thought it could hide someone from me, morons. How could they actually think that there was a way to avoid me, nothing escapes death, even those who try for immortality eventually come to me,"

Harry decided now was a good time to take a few steps away from the ranting and raving personification of the end.

"According to legend whoever united these three artefacts would become the master of death which most wizards took to mean that they would be invincible or immortal, honestly I have no idea how that particular falsehood came about," she paused and exhaled, "sorry the hallows are a bit of an annoyance for me, but anyway on to business. You Harry are the rightful owner of the hallows and if you don't mind I would like them back,"

"Can you explain how I own them then please," if he had something she wanted then it was probably a good idea to hand them over.

"Very well. You inherited the cloak which has been passed down in the Potter family for generation, the Peverell ring is the resurrection stone and you won the wand when you disarmed Dumbledore. Since they all answer to you it is possible for you to summon the wand to you, even here," she explained, "just concentrate and it will appear,"

Harry did as she suggested and after a moment felt a weight in his hand, he looked and saw he was gripping a wand, one he recognised. There in his hand was Dumbledore's wand, he had the elder wand all this time, somehow he was not surprised.

"Here you go," he said, offering her the wand.

"Unfortunately there are rules which prevent me from simply taking them but I can offer a trade that would be equal to the value of the hallows,"

"Like what,"

"For the wand I will grant you the ability to utilise magic without a focus, it will be as instinctual as breathing," she informed him, "for the stone I will grand you the ability to understand any humanoid language, from animals you will sense emotions enough to understand them, trust me in the land you're going to you'll need it. For the cloak I will grant you the knowledge and ability to use the weapons that you will find in the new world. Consider this your reward for the hard life you've led,"

Harry thought for a moment, weighing the benefit of what she offered before deciding.

"Ok that seems more than fair," Harry said, "but what sort of weapons will I find in my new world,"

"Swords, daggers, spears, bows and axes," she replied, "basic weapons like that,"

"Can you throw in some hand to hand combat, it might come in handy," he chuckled.

"That was a horrible pun," Death deadpanned, "but fine,"

She gestured and the wand floated over to her, the ring and cloak immediately following. Then she snapped her fingers and Harry was briefly covered in light before it vanished.

"I don't feel any different,"

"You will once you're in your new world," she told him, "you will end up in the land of Westeros and knowing your luck you will face some harsh dangers. Also you will not have a problem with using magic because there are some magic users in the lands across the sea but none of them are like the witches and wizards of your world, you can even use it openly if you wish but be warned, the rules of magic work differently where you are going. Such things like transfiguration and most of your charms will be permanent unless undone by another magic user,"

"To be able to use magic openly would be exciting," he smiled, "and if they only have middle age weapons I have nothing to worry about,"

"Don't be so sure Harry. They have a metal known as Valyrian steel which is actually the same metal as Mithril," Death said, "the only difference is the way in which they are forged. Your dagger was forged by goblins so it will be superior to the blades you will find in your new world. The technique to create these enchanted blades has been lost for hundreds of years so you are not in complete danger but remember that they do exist,"

"Well we wouldn't want to make things too easy now would we," he joked, "anyway thanks for telling me and please don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I don't see you again for a very long time,"

"Goodbye Harry Potter, I too hope it is a long time before we meet you again," with a wave of her hand Harry was gone.

00000

As the image of Harry faded from Death's sight, in his hideout the half human and half snake Voldemort suddenly stiffened and let out a silent scream as his body began to turn to ash. He was dying and this time it felt more real than before, as the pain steadily increased over several minutes as he attempted to stay alive by draining the life force from all his marked death eaters. It did nothing but slow his death as all his horcruxes were themselves perishing one by one, soon all those bearing his mark died and then Death finally claimed the last remnant of Voldemort's soul.

AN: hope you like this chapter, please read and review