Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter or Warhammer in any way.

Authors note: This story has been in my head for a long time. Since I started writing fan fiction really. However the scale of what I aim to write has always put me off. However I now have a solid idea of events and I'm ready to begin my story. I do hope you enjoy it. Now on to some matters before we start. This is a multi bookfic, the first one will concentrate on Fantasy, but the second willcentre on 40k. The third one I will leave as a surprise. Now, a few details before we begin.

Harry will be strong but will be as far from god-like as is possible. No upper cutting the Chaos gods and one shotting the Emperor.

As should be expected from the Warhammer universe, there will be gore, violence and other M rated material, so read at your discretion. Constructive criticism and ways of improving my story is appreciated, flaming or troll reviews are not.

The Harry Potter side of things with be slightly AU in the sense that some people survived who didn't in the books or film.

Yes there will be pairings, no it will not be slash.

Enjoy and please remember to leave a review., it would mean a lot.

Chapter 1:

Only the dead have seen the end of the war.

-Unknown Empire foot soldier before he was

killed and resurrected as a Zombie.

Once again Harry Potter stood in the one place he hated above all others. Even more than Private drive, the Riddle graveyard or any other awful and evil place he had been in his short life.

The chamber of the Veil of Death.

Harry looked around with tired eyes, feeling numb inside. The place was more simply known as the death chamber to the unspeakables. After what had just occurred, the name was all the more fitting.

No longer an empty room knowing only the whispers of the dead from the realm beyond, it was now filled with the pain filled cries of the living. Bodies littered the room, nearly three dozen, double that number wounded. Originally such a number of people could not have possibly fit inside the room, nor could such a large scale battle have taken place. However the room had been expanded through spatial enlargement charms until the room was twice its original dimensions, the perfect size for a large and powerful magical ritual to take place. It was for this reason that Harry now found himself in the chamber that brought him so much pain, surrounded by the remnants of the viscous battle fought to stop it.

Cries still pierced the thick silence as Medi-Wizards and Witches tended to the wounded, Harry circled the rock formation that held the veil itself, forcing himself through his fatigue to help those in need, give orders, and ascertain the casualties of both friend and foe. After dismissing a junior Auror who had just given him a report of the situation outside the chamber, Harry heard a groan from a crevice in between the rocks.

Looking inside he saw a female Death Eater, she was holding her stomach, her mouth red. From the bloody object at her feet Harry knew that she had been struck by an entrail expelling curse. A grisly spell, it was a particular favourite of the sadistic Death Eaters. She could have been struck by one of his own Aurors Harry mused, but it was highly unlikely. Aurors had increased freedom to use darker curses in times of crisis,however to use such an inefficient spell designed solely to inflict undue suffering would be more problematic to justify than even the killing curse.

'Likely sloppy aiming from her fellows then.'

Another groan pulled him from his thoughts as the woman looked up at him with pleading eyes, bloody lips forming words but not speaking them. Her desire was clear however.

Kill me.

For a moment Harry considered leaving her to die her long and painful death, she would suffer only a fraction of the pain she had no doubt visited on so many others. But he dismissed it despite the tempting whispers in his mind. He remembered the words of his mentor, Moody, after one of their raids had ended with him breaking the limbs of aDeath Eater one by one. Harry had caught the man trying to cut the tongue out of muggle woman he had raped, presumably in a futile attempt to hide his crimes.

'Don't stoop to their level boy. The moment you start taking pleasurefrom their suffering, start deliberately causing them pain before they die, that's when they win. Because even though they're dead, their evil will live on in you.'

The moment had stuck with him ever since,not because he had felt ashamed for his actions, but rather because of the disappointed way that Moody had looked at him as he had spoken. He had worked to ensure than his mentor never looked at him like that again.

Harry turned his attention back to the woman, drawing his blade. The sword of Gryffindor shone even in the dark gloom of the chamber, seeming to give off a light of its own. He placed the edge at the Death Eaters neck the woman looking up to him with gratitude. Her gratitude turned to confusion as he moved the tip to her cheek. He flicked his wrist, causing a small cut, then sheathed his sword and walked away. She gurgled frantically, wherever in desperation or anger, he didn't know.

He had only taken four steps away before her motions ceased as the Basilisk venom that coated the blade ended her life.

Coming to the front of the chamber, he paused for a moment to look back frowning. When had he been so casual in taking a life? The 'innocent' years of his childhood seemed like a life time ago, despite him being only twenty one. So many things had changed in the last few years, events had passed so quickly that Harry hadn't even noticed when he had turned from a confused boy, still living with his headmaster's ideals of second chances and love, to a battle hardened Auror commander purging the last of the Death Eaters and hunting down his arch nemesis. Harry's mind turned to the events of the distant, and not so distant past that had led to this bloody battle.

He remembered two years ago, Voldemort surviving the last battle through a hidden portkey, the late night deliberations where he and Ron had decided on joining the Aurors. He remembered his mentorship under Moody and the many lessons and skills the man had taught him. He remembered the battles and trials, tragedies and victories as he grew to command his own Auror team. And finally the Battle of the Ministry, where Voldemort had launched a suicidal attack with what little forces he had left. They finally cornered the Dark Lord in the Department of Mysteries where they found Hermione's broken body still clad in Unspeakable robes. Even though it had been a scant two hours before, Harry's memory grew hazy after that. All he recalled was feelings of pure unadulterated rage and grief as he stormed down the dark marble halls of the Department, his Auror squad almost unable to keep up.

The next thing he recollected was looking through the dark obsidian archway that led into the death chamber, seeing Voldemort,finishing some sort of ritual on the Veil itself that had the artefact buzzing with power. The man was surrounded by his surviving inner circle, some some two dozen Death Eaters. Harry remembered the sinister smile Voldemort had sent him over his shoulder as he walked up to the looming arch, runes added by the Dark Lord blazing with power. It was the evil smirk he had come to know and hate, laden with mockery and evil delight. Harry's already considerable fury erupted like a Fiendfyre and drawing the Elder wand, he fired a Sectumsempra into Voldemort's back with as much power as he could muster. Voldemort, both magically and physically drained by his ritual could not muster the energy to defend himself or even dodge. The curse, bolstered by the power of the legendary wand ripped bloody gouges into the Dark Lords back, sending the snake tumbling forward with a scream, blood erupting from the savage wounds.

Unfortunately, this was not the end of the man. The spell had sent him tumbling into the Veil, and like Sirius before him, his body seemed to be picked up by an unknown force, and he slowly disappeared into the veils embrace. The only thing left to show that he had ever been there at all was his blood splattered across the face of the archway itself.

This attack broke the surrounding Death Eaters from their awe at their dark masters power, and they turned to engage the Aurors with a cry. What followed was not a battle, even by the standards of wizarding kind. Hardened Aurors met fanatical Death Eaters. After years of unceasing war, both groups hated each other with every fibre of their being and no mercy was shown by either side. Destructive spells flew through the air, blowing open rocks and gouging marble walls, sometimes finding their marks, laying low fighters from both sides in the most brutal of fashions. Close quarter even fighting broke out, almost unheard of in magical conflict. Death Eater and Auror grappled on the ground ripping into each other with whatever they had to hand, be it fists, daggers or even rocks.

It was pure butchery, the bloodiest of the war's battles.

Soon however the Aurors numbers began to tell as reinforcements poured into the room. All too soon the last Death Eater was cut down, Harry personally removing Rookwood's head from his shoulders with a swing of the sword of Gryffindor. The hateful snarl the man had given the Auror in his last moments was now forever etched upon his scarred face in death.

Memories of the distant, and not so distant past left Harry's mind as he found himself standing in front of the veil, the dark rock of the artefact still drenched in a canopy of Voldemort's blood.

'Hope it hurt you bastard.'

When he had last stood before the veil all those years ago he had heard whispers coming from the shimmering curtains but had never been able to tell what they were saying. When he had mentioned it to the others after, all of them bar Luna had said they had heard nothing. And Luna refused to speak about it beyond giving him a serene smile. But now...now he could hear what they were saying quite clearly.

Come. Come to us.

It felt like Harry was in a trance. Something deep down in his magic resonated with the voice, the whispers caressing his magic like of a seductive temptress. Closing his eyes he could hear other voices underneath the louder one. Maybe if he stepped closer he would be able to hear them…

Haaarry. Harry. Harry.

"Harry?"

Startled, Harry opened his eyes and turned around to see that he had acquired a small crowd. They all looked to him expectantly.

"Don't you all have something to do?" Harry asked, trying to hide his irritation at being interrupted from his examination of the veil and more importantly the voices speaking from beyond.

"The department has been secured and the last of the wounded have been taken from the chamber. Your the ranking commander here sir." a woman on the left pointed out. Abigail Chase, if he remembered correctly, a very dutiful and by the book Auror. Harry looked over the crowd again, taking note of those that were missing as much as those were present. More friends to mourn. He spotted Ron in the middle of the crowd with some relief, the redhead looking as him grimly, face covered in dirt and blood. Harry could still spot the tear tracks on his friends face. He was not the only one mourning Hermione. But Abigail had been right, no other ranking Auror was in the room. The inkling of a crazy idea formed in Harry's mind.

"It's over...right?" Another voice asked quietly from the Aurors gathered around him.

"No. Not by a long shot." Harry murmured, returning to his study of the portal.

He knew Voldermort would never kill himself, the man was too terrified of death to even contemplate such an idea. That of course meant then that he was still alive somehow.

What had he even done to the Veil? How had he altered it? How had he even known how to alter it if even the unspeakables didn't know the artefacts purpose? They didn't have time to spend studying the complicated runes and icons covering the archway. Every moment they wasted was another that Voldermort had to escape and if Harry waited for reinforcements and his superiors to arrive Voldermort was as good as gone.

Ron meanwhile had followed best friend and commander's gaze. Knowing Harry better than anyone else allowed him to quickly summarize the destination of his friends thoughts.

"Oh, Merlin no, Harry, you can't be serious. Voldermort offed himself!" Ron shouted, pushing through the crowd and motioning wildly at the archway. "Nothing that enters that thing survives, it's called the Veil of Death for a reason."

Harry potter finally looked tore his eyes off the shimmering veil looked at Ron.

"Do you really think that Ron? Do you really think Voldermort, so obsessed with escaping death that he split his soul into seven pieces, has just decided to commit suicide through the apparent express route to the land of the dead?"

Ron's face scrunched up as he was forced to concede Harry was right. He may not know Voldermort as well as Harry did but he had seen enough to know that the dark lord would never kill himself.

"Alright, fine, but that isn't the point. I know you Harry, and like hell will I allow you to go through that thing!" Ron hissed.

"For too long that snake faced bastard has gallivanted across the world, murdering countless innocents in a pointless quest for power and pure blood idiocy. He's taken my parents, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby, your brother and now..." Harry took a deep breath. "And now Hermione."

He looked Ron in the eyes.

"Not. One. More. It's ending now. One way or another."

"Then I'm coming with you." Ron said desperately.

"You can't. If this turns out to be a trap or it really does turn out to be a certain death for those who go through, I won't have both of us enter it. If I die it will be up to you and the others to fight Voldermort if he returns."

Ron's shoulders slumped and looked at Harry in defeat. Guilt tore through the Potter at the thought of abandoning his best friend after so recently losing Hermione. Harry placed his hands on Ron's shoulders and looked in to his eyes, trying to convey as much feeling into his words as he could.

"I'm not going to allow Hermione's death to be in vain Ron. I'll find the bastard, and then I'm going to put him in the ground for good this time. I promise."

Harry turned to the Aurors gathered around them.

"Ron's in command now. Keep this room secure and no one comes in or out until an Unspeakable or Head Auror Moody arrives to look at what Voldermort did to the veil." He turned to Ron again. "When Moody arrives, inform him I'm in pursuit."

The Auror's around him didn't know how to react to their new orders as their leader committed himself to what looked like certain death pursing Voldermort through a magical device that had been used as an execution tool scant decades before. Some were even in open tears. Slowly, one by one, they saluted him. Harry returned it.

"It's been an honour Sir." one of the Aurors said quietly.

"Likewise. All of you." Harry responded. Dropping the salute he took a few steps closer to the veil, motioning for Ron to follow. Only a few steps away from the magical artefact he stopped and turned to his friend.

"Ron, if this does lead to my death… don't mourn me, move on. Move on and live your life to the fullest." He whispered, his words for Ron and Ron alone. The grief was still clear on his face, but the redhead nodded, almost imperceptibly. Then he looked down, refusing to look at his friend.

Sighing, Harry stepped forward to the archway until he was barely a handbreadth away from the shimmering veil. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward in to the archway.

Ron stood by the Veil, chin against his chest, eyes closed, a lone tear sliding down his cheek. He didn't hear a gasp or cry of pain. Nothing but fluttering of the veil disturbed the almost oppressive silence of the room. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up to where Harry had been standing a moment before. No one was there bar the silver shimmering energies in the archway. Looking around he saw the wide eyes of his fellow Aurors, telling him that the magical device had taken his best friend as it had Voldermort and Sirius Black before him.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, he tried to adopt the confident air he had seen Harry forge over the years and begun issuing orders, including sender a patronus to find Moody and tell him what had happened. The grim Auror would have Ron's hide for allowing Harry to go through the Veil after Voldemort, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself...Ron wouldn't blame him.

The chamber slowly returned to activity again as the last of the bodies were carried out and the room cleared. None of them could know that what had just occurred within that room would spark a legend that would be spoken of for a thousand years to come.

Awareness slowly came back to Harry. The first thing he noticed was how bloody cold he felt. And on opening his eyes, how dark it was. Not the darkness of night, but the kind that sucked in any light that touched it. He could not even see his hand, waving it in front of his face. His inspection was interrupted as a voice spoke out, a dark rumbling voice that seemed to shake him to the bones.

"Hmmmmmmmmmm...so what do we have here, another wayward soul sent through the door?"

Harry swallowed hard. Something about the voice awakened a primordial fear within him.

"W-who are you? Show yourself!" Harry shouted, doing his best to shake off his fear.

"Oh, a feisty one, let us take a look at you then"

Harry felt a probe at his mind, and despite slamming his formidable occlumency shields into place the presence brushed past them like they were not even there, like a person stepping over a pebble. The pain that Harry braced for never materialized. All he felt was the gentle probing as the presence looked through his mind as a reader would skim a book.

"Hmm, how fascinating. Such an interesting life you have led for one so terribly young. And you have my Hallows?" A deep rumbling laugh echoed around Harry.

"I had begun to think that they would never be united as one, though it is unfortunate that one such as yourself would be the one to find them."

The anger that had been growing in Harry at having the privacy of his mind so casually violated finally erupted.

"Enough! Who are you?!"

"Hmm, I am known by many names, by many different species and peoples, but the most common name by far amongst the uncounted denizens of existence is...Death."

Shock ran through Harry.

"You're Death? Then wouldn't that mean I'm...dead?"

"Not in the fashion you are no doubt thinking of. When those foolish magicals on the other side of the door started throwing their criminals through, using the Veil like some sort of trash disposal, I decided to preserve them and judge them myself as I do all souls who pass into my realm. The vast majority I return to a world of the living. However if I judge that to send them back would greatly disrupt the great tapestry of life, necromancers, dark lords and the like, I send their souls on. You however are a...complicated case."

Harry's mind boggled from the information he had been given, secrets of the universe that most religions back on Earth would kill to learn. But his mind had seized on what Death had revealed.

"You send the innocent back? You wouldn't have had a dark haired man called Sirius Black here by any chance would you?"

Death was quiet for a moment, and Harry worried if he would be find himself tumbling back through the Veil before he could gain the answers he sought or even ask about Voldemort.

"The fate of a single soul is not what you should be worried about I'm afraid. What it means for you possessing the Hallows is what you should really be concerned with."

"I thought that possessing them made you master of death?" Harry then realised what that meant. "Not that I want to be your master or anything." he said sheepishly.

"Yes. I have seen that. I saw how you snapped the wand, threw away the stone and only kept the cloak for its sentimental value. But they always returned to you, repaired and whole. As I designed them too."

Their was a distinct note in Death's rumbling voice that concerned Harry. It was almost like the primordial being was...regretful.

"When I created them I had been feeling spiteful and angered after the deception of the three brothers. I created them with the legend that whoever united them would become master of death, for it was with surety that the one who would do so would be a greedy, immoral, power driven being. As such when they turned up, they would find that rather than being the master of death, they would instead be it's slave."

Horror filled Harry. A slave? What did that even mean? How could one even be a slave to Death?

"Then break them, destroy the Hallows. I will never be a slave to any being."

"It is not that simple. I could no more destroy the Hallows then I could destroy myself. They are a part of me. And the magic which binds the bearer of them to myself is as inviolable as one of your Unbreakable vows. I'm afraid it is permanent. I am sorry."

Harry didn't know what to say. If Death itself could not break such a bond, then there was no hope of ever being free. Helplessness filled him.

"What would this even mean?"

"The bearer of the Hallows would be granted near eternal life. But in my service they would never be able to deny an order from me, no matter what that order was. I had envisioned to use them as an agent in the material plane, to hunt down those that would try to avoid me or disrupt the great cycle of life and death. Such occurrences have been growing as of late."

Harry wanted to curl up and scream in frustration at these revelations. His entire existence had been one big shitshow. A childhood of abuse by the Dursleys. His entire teenage years spent fighting for his life against fanatical purists and society as it turned from hero worship to scorn. And finally a short adult life of constant battle against Death Eaters, never once knowing any peace. And now he would spend an eternity as Death's slave. However through his distress, something that Death had said occurred to him.

"You would have had me hunt down those who escaped you? What about Voldemort? He mutilated his soul to escape your clutches."

"Ah. Him. Yes, that foetid worm is at the top of my list you could say. Rare is it that someone gone to so much lengths to avoid me. I would be hurt if it wasn't so angered by his efforts."

"But he used the Veil! He must have come here."

"He used the Veil? Let me see."

Surprised Death was asking politely this time, Harry lowered his shields and thought of the moments before the battle. He once again felt the gentle presence and tried not to think that it was Death itself prodding around inside his head.

"Oh that slimy pathetic excuse of a soul. He discovered the original purpose of the blasted thing."

"The original purpose? I thought it was a portal to...well...you." Harry asked, confused.

"No, such was not it's original purpose. It was created by an exiled Egyptian wizard, one Rahotep the Elder, several millennia before your present day. He was banished for exploring dangerous magics, specifically ones that concerned metaphysics. Rahotep grew concerned that his enemies within the Pharaoh's court would one day hunt him down and his paranoia only grew greater over the years. He soon decided that he would be safe nowhere on the planet. So with great effort he created the Veil as a portal to breach the barrier between realities."

"Other realities? There are other dimensions? How did he even know of their existence?" Harry asked in shock.

"The Egyptian magicals were advanced for their time, both in their understanding of the world and it's higher magics. In many areas their knowledge of magic surpassed even that of your own society. They were more than aware that other dimensions existed through their studies. But they also understood the dangers of interacting with such worlds as well."

"Then what happened to the Egyptian wizard, Rahotep?"

"I happened. Travel between the dimensions of existence has fermented nothing but trouble and brought about the near destruction of several realities. Rahotep was a madman, an accomplished necromancer steeped in the blood of thousands on his road to power. Such a man armed with the knowledge of how to create portals between worlds was too great a threat to ignore. I was, however, in a conundrum. As with all beings not of the material plane I cannot influence the world greatly. I am handicapped even more than others as by my own nature I cannot directly kill any mortal being. However I have experience with finding the loopholes in such matters.'

"The three brothers." Harry muttered, remembering Death's earlier words. "I can't believe the fairy tale is true."

"The record of what happened was of course distorted by time. The brothers were not creating a bridge and cheating their fates, but instead had unknowingly unearthed an item of incredible power and were willing to sell it to an extremely dangerous individual."

"What item could be so dangerous that Death himself would intercede?" Harry questioned incredulously.

"Nothing that would concern you. You need only know that if it had reached the man they intended to sell it to, your world and reality would be nothing but a festering hell scape, barren of all life bar mind numbing horrors and abominations that make your Tom Riddle look like a saint. Such a thing could of course not be allowed."

Harry swallowed. "I'll take your word for it."

"As you should. Now, where were we? Ah yes. In exchange I gave the three what they wished for most. Their requests were...quite extortionate in relation to what they perceived as the value of the item. Ultimate power, the ability to bring back the dead, and the power to hide from it. That day as you know I taught Humanity one of it's most important lessons."

"Be careful what you wish for?" Harry filled in.

"Precisely." Death responded with what Harry guessed was a chuckle. The way the sound echoed around him ominously and caused the darkness to become even more oppressive did little to inspire mirth in the Potter however.

"The eldest two were granted their wish along with it's unspoken consequences. However your ancestor, Ignotus Peverell, was quite exceptional for a Human and very different from his brothers. Quiet but perceptive, humble and intelligent. Whilst the other two pontificated with glee and arrogance, your many times Grandfather only looked at me with narrowed eyes. He saw through my deception and as the tale shows, he was the last to succumb to his natural death. I made sure it was a painless one. The mortal was wise beyond his years and deserved as such."

Knowing that it had been his ancestor that had earned Death's respect filled Harry with a strange sense of pride. It did however make him think of how the hand of fate once again showed itself, now that he, Ignotus Peverell's descendent, found himself in this realm, the new master of the hallows. Yet another part of his life orchestrated by destiny perhaps? The thought just made him wish he could find Destiny and kick that bitch in the proverbial balls, make her stop fucking his life over.

"Anyhow, we have digressed too far. I could not directly move against the Egyptian Wizard, however as I have shown with the three Brothers, we know that mortals are often their own worst enemy. I came to him in his dreams and whispered tales of grandeur, visions of power, power over life...and death. Eventually I gifted him with the knowledge of how to modify the Archway to reach this realm, filling his head full of dreams of going through and binding Anubis, the god of the underworld. Ultimately his lust for power won over his paranoia and he made the mortifications. And so the man became the first to come through and meet his fate."

This felt all like too much for Harry to take in, fairy tales come to life and Ancient Egyptians building portals to the land of the dead.

'Focus Harry, Voldemort, that's all that matters.'

"So...Voldemort altered the Veil to counteract what you had done and escape to another world?"

"Yes, although I doubt that he knew that I had been the one to do it. He likely thought the Wizard who had created the Veil had made a mistake in one of his calculations."

"Then why am I hear?" Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "Why have I not followed him wherever he went?"

"Tom Riddle despite his arrogance is not an idiot. As I saw from your memories, one of the runes he drew on the archway was Einn. It was placed so that as soon as the Runic array that he made to revert the Veil to it's original purpose was activated and used once, the Einn rune would wipe it all away. As such it would revert the Veil back to it's altered design, to send whoever came through after Voldemort straight to my realm."

"Bastard!" Harry swore. "He booby trapped the thing to kill anyone who came after him!"

Harry felt foolish. He would have expected such little foresight from his younger self, not the person he had grown to be. He had simply assumed that Voldemort would neither have had the time nor the foresight to apply any trap to the Veil. Assumptions are a bitch as they say.

"Evidently. So we come to the crux of the matter. Witnessing your life, I will not condemn you to be the master of the hallows. In my hubris I envisioned the them as an ironic punishment for a vain, power seeking fool. Instead in the most strangest irony they have instead fallen into the possession of one who never wanted it's power. I can bind their power and will send you back to your world where-"

"Wait! If you send me back Voldemort will escape! I can't let him get away. Not again." Harry interjected desperately.

"Tom Riddle despite his vile nature is just one more uppity mortal amongst many Harry Potter, I will deal with him in time." Dead said with finality.

"And how many will die before you elect to find and bring him down?" Harry demanded.

"Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands?" Death said, sounding dismissive "I am the Primordial, little mortal. A few more souls requiring passage to this realm mean nothing. That I decide to intervene in this matter is only because of my anger that this soul has defied my efforts to seal the realms off from one another."

Death's heartless words were a timely reminder for Harry that he was talking to a being that was detached from such petty Human concepts of morality and ethics. It was hopeless, Harry had no chance of fighting such a force or convincing someone so far removed from the plight of living beings. Unless…

'I can't believe I'm about to do this.'

"You intended the Hallows to bring you a servant correct? Someone who would enact your will? Then you have one. Allow me to go after Voldemort and I'll send him and anyone you want back here on a silver platter."

Silence reigned in the void with Harry's words and the darkness become even more oppressive if that was possible. He had lost track of how long he had been suspended in this purgatory but the longer the silence lasted the more his hope dwindled and his doubts grew. Finally, Death once again spoke.

"You would sacrifice your freedom for what? The Wizarding world? The society that made your life a misery?

"The Wizarding world? No. Never them. I'd do it for Hermione, Ron, my parents and friends, and all those who have had their lives ruined by that monster. I'd do it for all those who could one day suffer simply for being in his way. I'd...I'd do it because doing nothing would dishonour the memories of the people who died bringing me this far."

The silence once again returned. Harry looked down in resignation. He had said his piece. He could do no more.

"When I thought of the person that would one day unify the Hallows, I always envisioned the worst of humanity, one who had climbed over a mountain of corpses to claim it's power. And now hearing what you have said…I am glad that that I did not get that person."

Harry looked up, taken back. He had been expecting to be rejected outright. He wasn't quite sure what to say.

"If such is your wish then I accept. However to take this course, to become the true master of the Hallows and enter my service, you must take a binding and unbreakable oath. There will be no coming back from this. Are you ready?

Harry swallowed. He would be binding his soul to Death himself. He knew there would likely be consequences down the line, be it for himself or perhaps being ordered to do something he didn't agree with. But he could not see any other way. He had no choice.

"I am." Harry said gravely, bowing his head, trying to inject every bit of confidence he didn't feel into his voice.

"Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, do you promise to uphold the cycle of life and death in your service?"

"I do." With his words Harry felt a presence on his magic. It felt so strange, almost like how his familiar bond with Hedwig had felt, but different...much deeper.

"Do you vow to punish any that try to cheat their natural end through the most unnatural of means?"

"Wait, what does that even mean? Am I going to be striking down little girls getting cancer treatment or something?" Harry asked disturbed.

"No boy, it means necromancers slaughtering hundreds of thousands to extend their foul lives past the point that they were ordained to expire at. Now don't interrupt again. I need your answer." Death growled.

"I do."

Another sensation, like an icy hand gripping his magic tight. Harry ignored the disturbing sensation. For his vengeance he would see this through.

"Do you pledge to uphold the sanctity of the realms, their integrity, and combat any that would threaten their existence?

"I do." With the latest acceptance he winced as the bitter cold spread to his body, the blood in his veins turning to ice, glacial claws gripping his muscles in a vice tight grip. As quick as they came the sensations stopped, the cold receding from his body and magic, though he still felt an icy chill throughout himself.

"Then rise Harry James Potter, no longer a simple mortal, but my agent, hand and champion in the realms. You speak with my voice and authority, for all gods and deities know my power and it's sign."

Harry looked up again, not feeling different or transformed, though he did notice he could see somewhat better. The realm around him was still as dark as night, but he could see shadows moving around him, some like stormy clouds, others like oily shadows. Looking over to Death, his heart almost stopped as he saw a vague outline of the being, a black mass in the rough shape of a cloak, three times his size. That sensation he had felt before, the deep primordial fear, returned in full force. This time though he ruthlessly squashed it. This was his life now, he couldn't be shitting himself every time he met his...his new master.

'Merlin that's going to take some getting used too. He bloody well better now insist on me calling him that.'

"As your first mission as my hand I will send you to the realm that Tom Riddle has fled to, per your request and my own need, to mete out your justice and return him to his rightful end. Seeing the modifications he has made to the Veil I can ascertain the reality in question, though where in that world I cannot determine. Honestly, that dimension...I've half a mind to leave him to rot there and wait for it's denizens to chew him up and spit him back out to me."

"Really?" Harry questioned dubiously. "I can't imagine a place that would be so dangerous that Voldermort of all people would be beaten so easily."

"That realm...it is a place of constant war and misery for it's inhabitants. I receive more souls from there than several other realities combined. And the threat is not just to itself. I have had to intervene more than once to stop the more foul of its powers from escaping. Tom Riddle will be just one more monster amongst many in that place, although still a particularly dangerous one."

Harry was starting to wonder what he had got himself into. But he was committed now. There was no turning back.

"Be careful in that world Potter, though you possess the Hallows, speak with my voice and do my work, I cannot interfere unless the sanctity of the realms is threatened. Do not trust easily, or reveal who and what you are unduly. There are far more dangerous creatures than Tom Riddle or mere men in that place."

"Understood" Harry said simply, eager to be off. A journey to the land of the dead had been decidedly less final than he had expected it to be, but the all pervading darkness and cold was rapidly becoming almost unbearable. He was eager to be gone and back in pursuit of Voldemort.

"Luck be with you Harry Potter. In that realm, you will need it."

A wave of power overcame Harry, and he felt himself fall backwards as if gravity had been restored. Instead of hitting solid ground however he rapidly picked up speed and entered free fall, as if he had just jumped off a broom mid air. Stifling his panic, Harry let it all happen, trusting that Death would not have gone through all that effort to simply screw him over now. After a minute a faint light grew around him and the encompassing darkness was beginning to give way. Soon he was not falling through the black shadows of the realm of the dead anymore but dark clouds. Emerging from the other side he looked down to see a land shrouded in fog. He took a deep breath of the air of a new world and was slightly disappointed, and relieved, when it was no different than the air he was used to. He looked around in wonder, examining his new home for the foreseeable future.

'If I woke up this morning and someone told me that by the end of the day I would be falling into a whole new dimension I would have had them checked out at St Mungo's.'

Looking down he could see he was going to land on a sandy beach, but he found he could not use his magic to soften the landing in anyway. He couldn't use his magic at all. A layer of Death's power surrounded him, forming a bubble and keeping him largely immobile and unable to use his power. Harry hoped that it would also protect him impacting the ground at terminal velocity.

Closing his eyes as he neared the ground, he braced for an impact that never came. Instead, he only knew the soft embrace of darkness.

The first thing Harry saw when he woke up was the grey clouds he had travelled through on his entrance into this new world. They were pregnant with rain ready to fall and he soon felt a slight patter on his face, an early warning of a coming downpour. Harry stared at them disappointedly.

'A whole new world and I might as well have never left Britain with the weather...'

Harry's view of the sky was interrupted as what was possibly the most alien face he had ever seen entered his vision to look down at him. Inhumanly slanted eyes set in an angled, narrow face glared down at him, fine silver hair drifting in the light wind.

"Merlin's balls!" Harry exclaimed as he scrambled back, punching deep troughs into the sand in his haste to put some distance between him and the being. He drew his wand and palmed the hilt of his sword as he looked around, head whipping from side to side. He was still on the beach that he had seen on his journey down. He looked back to the figure that hadn't moved and was looking curiously at his drawn wand.

Now that his heart was not beating a thousand times a minute, Harry had a moment to examine the being in front of him. It wasn't an it, it was a he. And he was an Elf. Not a house elf, as if the thing in front of him could be compared to the diminutive and shy creatures, but like a fantasy elf that Tolkien described in Lord of the Rings. Harry had read the books when he was younger, one of many that he had 'borrowed' from his cousin when the fat whale had thrown them away in favour of comics and video games.

He had always envisioned them as simply beautiful humans with pointy ears but the truth was far different. Yes, he did have pointed ears, and yes he was beautiful, as weird as it was to think that. He wasn't handsome in a human way, but like a beautifully crafted statue. The face was almost alien in it's quality. The eyes were too slanted, the cheekbones too high, the face too narrow. And he was too tall for Merlin's sake. Harry was a good six foot, but this Elf must be a nearing seven at least. The stranger was dressed in elegant robes, made out of a flowing white and blue material that Harry could not identify. It was embroidered richly in stylish gold patterns. Whoever he was, he certainly wasn't poor.

More importantly however, he bore a staff, a pure white stave wrapped in bands of gold and topped with a Phoenix, wings swept back around the rear of the rod. Clearly this was this worlds version of a magic user. Staffs has fallen out of favour on Earth after the coming of the much more convenient to carry and equally powerful wands.

Harry had not yet put away his own wand however. He could feel the power rolling off the stranger in waves. He was powerful. Powerful enough to give Harry a run for his money.

Suddenly the stranger spoke in a language that was as beautiful as itself. Problem was Harry didn't understand any of it. A pit opened in Harry's stomach.

'Shit.'

Potential language barriers was not something that Harry had considered. He had been too overwhelmed by what had been happening to ask Death about it before he left.

Seeing Harry's confusion, the stranger spoke in a different language, less refined than the last one, sounding almost like ancient Celtic.

"I don't understand you." Harry said, motioning to his ear and shaking his head, hoping that he wouldn't be involved in a lengthy game of charades with the Elf.

The Elf for his part seemed to be the understanding sort, nodded and motioned for Harry to follow him as he turned and walked away.

Harry hesitated for a moment, remembering Death's words on not trusting anyone immediately. Who knew what this stranger intended? He didn't really have a choice however. He was alone in this world, with nothing but the clothes on his back, his wand, his sword, and the few items he carried in his Moleskin pouch. He could not afford to turn down any offer of help. He would just have to keep his wits about him. Cautiously, he followed the stranger, the two of them vanishing into the fog that shrouded the land.

Harry nearly lost sight of the Elven Wizard several times in the thick mists, but stretching out his magical senses, he was able to quickly locate the elf and keep up. The stranger was fast, and he didn't seem to walk as much as glide across the ground, barely disturbing the grass and leaves as he passed. Honestly Harry was beginning to wonder if there was anything the Elf didn't do gracefully.

Eventually the two of them broke out of the fog and Harry beheld the place the Elf had been leading them too, a small tower perched on a high cliff with a homely looking cottage attached to the side. It looked... surprisingly simple, though Harry knew from his experiences in the magical world that the home of a Wizard was anything but that, no matter how deceiving the exterior. The Elf walked up to the thick oak door, procuring an antique looking key from the folds of his robes. Unlocking the door, he stepped in and with a sweep of his hand motioned for Harry to follow.

Harry had long since sheathed his wand, but was fully on alert as he crossed the threshold. He immediately felt several wards in place over the house. Most of them he could not sense the purpose of, but one felt similar to his world's muggle repelling ward. There was thankfully no anti apparition wards in place, so if things went south he could escape immediately.

He examined the apparent home of the stranger who had found him. It was surprisingly...human for the home of a person of another race. It had chairs and tables, cupboards and bookcases, a warm fireplace over which hung a pot and a thick rug in the middle of the room. But it was also unmistakably the home of the Elf behind him. There was art hung on the wall, of unfamiliar scenes and individuals. All of them were of high quality, worthy of pride of place in any museum back on Earth.

Out of all of them however one in particular stood out. A family, arms wrapped around each other, stood in front of an immense white tower. Two young elves, a boy and a girl were smiling at the artist, and behind them stood a man and a woman, presumably their parents. The painting was incredibly detailed and it's colours vibrant. The artist had captured every detail in his strokes, from the thin veins on the leaves and joy of the children's smiles, to the deep blue quartz of the towers windows and the sparkling gleam of it's stones. Harry idly noticed that the man in the picture was the same that now stood behind him, though it didn't look like his family was with him here. There was only one bed in the small cottage.

Looking away from the painting, Harry continued his examination of the room.

Open books laid on the large central table written in a refined alien looking language. There was even a small alter covered in candles, over which hung a large symbol of an elderly Elf in a robe. And finally over the fireplace hung a sword, shining silver in the daylight and encrusted with a single great ruby in the guard.

Harry was not just inspecting his surroundings however, as much as he was studying them. He was looking for any clue that would tell him more about the world he had found himself in. The cottage was well made, but constructed out of basic materials, no bricks in sight. Then there was also a chamber pot by the bed and the iron cauldron over the fire.

'Maybe this world's magicals also suffered from electricity malfunctioning when near magic?'

Harry dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred to him. Even Wizards and Witches had followed technology as far as they could, which of course meant interior plumbing and stoves.

He would guess this reality was somewhere in the medieval ages or maybe even the renaissance period. Then again, this world was no doubt a big place. He could have fallen into the planet's backwater for all he knew.

Whilst Harry had subtly studied the room, the Elf had followed him in and was busying himself clearing away some of the open books and putting a kettle on to boil over the fire. Harry stood uncomfortably before he was motioned to sit at the now cleared table, the Elf taking out some cups and herbs.

Soon enough the Elf was serving pleasant smelling tea in porcelain cups, beautifully decorated in more of what Harry presumed to be Elvish script. As the Elf sat down, Harry wandlessly performed a spell to detect any poison within the cup and found nothing. A force of habit ingrained into him by Moody that was coming in useful now. Bringing the cup to his lips he took a sip, and was surprised by the pleasant taste. Looking over the rim of the cup, he saw the Elf giving a peculiar half smile, looking at the hand he had used to cast the spell. Harry narrowed his eyes a little.

'There was no way he felt that, Moody trained me to do it until he couldn't feel the faintest trace of magic being used...'

"Thanks." Harry said, lifting his cup up and nodding his head, hoping the Elf got the message. He seemed to, if the return dip of his head meant anything. Harry noticed that the stranger had yet to touch his cup.

'Maybe I should introduce myself. Merlin this is awkward.'

The being spoke again. However all expression had disappeared from his face and his manner was not relaxed but grave and sombre. Suddenly, Harry felt the air change, magic surge, the gravity of his words. This was no one-sided conversation, but a spell incantation. Harry tensed, placing his arm out of sight under the table and slowly slipping the Elder wand from it's holster.

Suddenly Harry felt a presence at the edge of his mind. Slamming his occlumency barriers in place, he jumped to his feet, wand drawn and a blasting curse on the edge of his lips.

"Peace! Peace! I mean you no harm!"

Harry paused as a voice rang through his mind. He looked down at the being in front of him, the Elf had not stood or moved to defend himself, but was instead looking at Harry intently, only sparing an interested glance for the wand pointed at him, glowing menacingly with an unleashed spell.

"I mean you no harm young one. I simply cast a spell to speak from my mind to yours. I have not moved past your mind shields and cannot read your thoughts."

"How can I understand you?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed, not moving the wand. At the Elf's uncomprehending expression, Harry, feeling somewhat foolish, asked within his mind.

"How can I understand you?" The Elf gave a mildly relieved smile, as a conversation was started instead of a fight.

"It is a technique my people have used for millennia to speak to those from across the world. You Humans have a cumbersome array of languages, and we have long known that when speaking one mind to another, it connects in a manner that transcends mere language. This makes it a very useful translation tool. I have not gone beyond the defences of your mind, so you need not worry for your thought's sanctity."

Harry swallowed a little, then slowly put down his wand and saw down, though he left his wand upon the table in clear sight.

"My apologies, I have not had good experiences with those who try and break into my mind."

"There is no need for apologies. It is well known that initiating contact in such a way is a risk due to misunderstandings. I would be more worried if you had not reacted in such a manner."

Now that the moment of tension had past, the Elf finally took a drink from his brew, taking a long draught from the cup. The two of them were quiet for a minute as the Elf savoured his drink. Harry once again considered introducing himself now that he could speak to the Elf, but Death's warning on trust was constantly at the forefront of his mind, and it occurred to him giving away his true name would not be wise. Unfortunately before he could decide on what to do, the same thought seemed to have occurred to the stranger.

"I have been lax in my manners and not introduced myself. My name is Belannaer."

"Hadrian. Hadrian Peverell" Harry added with the first name that jumped into his mind. Hadrian was similar enough to his own and he was a direct descendent of Ignotus Peverell, so it wasn't a complete lie.

"And what brings you to the Island of Albion Hadrian Peverell? You to not have the look of one of the Human inhabitants of this Island, nor is your name of their language. There is also the question of how you got here, the mists around the Island being impenetrable to any travel, mundane or magical."

Rather than the harsh interrogation that Harry had been expecting, he sensed nothing but friendly curiosity from the Elf. If anything Belannaer reminded him of Hermione of all people in his manner, eager to dissect a particularly irksome mystery that had landed before him.

Harry was in a quandary however, he knew little of this world and did not know enough to fabricate a believable story. His only hope lay in the old age saying, that the best lie is the one with elements of the truth. He employed every element of his occlumency training to keep his emotions under control and not let a sign of his true thoughts slip.

"In my home, a powerful Dark Wizard was committing many foul atrocities and crimes in the name of gaining ever more power. A group of companions and I had managed to corner him, however the man escaped through a portal. I pursued him through, but the next thing I remember is waking up on that beach with you above me. Did you not see anyone else? A pale man in a black robe, with red eyes and snake like slit in place of a nose?" Harry asked hopefully.

The elf looked down at his cup in thought.

"I had been working at the time that I felt your arrival on the Island, a powerful explosion of strange magical energy. When I arrived to investigate, I found only you. I would certainty have remembered seeing such a...unique sounding Human. It is unlikely that he is even on the Island, if your arrival is any indication, I would have sensed his coming with ease."

Harry's shoulders slumped with disappointment. It would not be an easy hunt after all then.

"But where is your home that you speak of? We Elves have travelled the world over and charted much of the land and it's peoples that there is to discover. I have never heard of a place like your home."

"My home is a rather isolated place. Millennia ago, my people were persecuted by others for our abilities. In response to this our greatest Wizards created a spell called the Fidelius to hide our Island. It was an immensely complex spell involving the magical concealment of a secret, that being our island home, inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside a chosen person, known as the Secret Keeper and is passed down from generation to generation. Henceforth, it is impossible for anyone to find, if they had it on their maps and charts it would be wiped away and if it was in their memory they would forget. Even if you stumbled upon it, you would not see it even if you stood on a ship off the coast."

"Incredible" Harry heard the Elf whisper into his mind. "It is certainly intriguing the way in which you manipulate the winds of magic. Unlike anyway I have Human Wizards or Elf mages conduct their spells."

"Where is your home if I may ask?" The Elf inquired suddenly.

"I'm afraid that because I am now outside the boundary of the spell, the memory of where my home lies in the world has been stripped from my mind" Harry said, adopting a downcast expression. He was silently patting himself on the back for crafting such a solid back story in so short a time. It wasn't as if most of it wasn't true anyway.

"Ah, a great pity. You have my condolences."

"I was prepared for such an eventuality. But the loss of my home will be worth it if I catch the man responsible for causing so much misery."

A strange, sympathetic look crossed the Elf's face.

"Then I'm afraid you have stuck an obstacle in your plans. As I have said, I sensed only you entering the Island. This man, what is his name?"

"Voldemort"

"This...Voldermort, wherever he was taken too, is not on Albion. Therein lies your problem. The magical mists surrounding the Island prevent anyone from entering or leaving. I am afraid you are stuck here for the foreseeable future."

Harry allowed his head to fall into one hand and sighed. One setback after another.

"There may yet be some hope for you however young Hadrian. I have been...no, that is a conversation for another time. For now, I extend to you the hospitality of my humble abode as long as you may need it."

Harry was taken back by such a generous offer from someone he had just met.

"You have my gratitude for welcoming me into your home, but I couldn't possibly intrude for much longer."

"Please, you are the most exciting thing to happen around here in thirty years." The Elf said snorting and waving a hand dismissively. "And I have so many questions about your magic. I could in return teach you the local language, so we can speak without the need for this mental communication."

Harry hesitated. The offer was very generous, and would provide him with much opportunity to inquire about this new world he had found himself in. On the other hand...well...there wasn't another hand. The only other option would be to stumble around the Island for the rest of eternity with no way to leave.

"Very well, I accept. You have my gratitude Belannaer."

"Oh no, you have mine young Hadrian. I had thought I knew as much as I would ever know when it came to the mysteries of magic, and you have shown me the errors of my ways. For instance, how did you use the Wind of Ghyran in such a way when you used the spell on the tea? And that wand of yours, the wind of Shyish sings as it courses through it. How was it that such a focus was even created?"

Oh yeah, Harry was definitely getting the Hermione vibe from him.

Author's note: And that is the end of the first chapter. Whew, bit of a trek but we got there. Setting the scene and the first bit of the cast. Hope you all enjoyed, and as always please leave a review. Really helps me see where this story is going and how people feel.

Update: Any new readers can ignore this. For all those looking back, I basically redid the death scene. For the purposes of future story Death was being too...nice, for lack of a better word. Now he is far more detached from the lives of mortals, as I originally intended him to be. I also changed the name and summary as well. No planned plot has changed, only I realised it didn't really represent what the overall books would be about.