A/N Ok hi people, so life has been extremely hard and I have not been writting like I should but this came to me while on pain meds. It is only the first chapter but I hope you like it. For those who read Cosa Nostra I am sorry there isn't a current update, Gokudera is blocking me but as I am pretty much bed ridden I plan to wrestle with him as well as work on this and some other pieces. So it is not beta'd if anyone is interested in being my beta and is willing to put up with my eratic writting please pm me. Thanks again and I hope you all like this, please review.

Chapter 1

Harry was a little broken, had been for a long time. It was understandable, he was 310 years old after all, older than any known person without the aide of the philosopher's stone or a blood curse, and yet under the magically constructed shell he wore he still looked 17. He'd buried all his loved ones, their children and their children's children, and his heart ached and his mind was tired.

That was what had led him to stand in front of the Veil of Death. Behind him the Minister of Magic, some pompous arse whose name he couldn't remember, was talking. Probably trying to persuade him against his actions but Harry had stopped listening to the man's whining a while before, he'd made up his mind the previous Saturday when he had 'celebrated' his birthday all alone.

He had spent so much time thinking of it, of walking through the Veil as no other earthly means seemed to be able to kill him. Of course even this venture had a 50/50 chance, his research had lead him to believe there was just as much a chance that he would just walk out the other side of the Veil as fall through the magical hole in the fabric of reality.

The shadow out of the corner of his eye, that had been his only true companion in all the world, shifted and Harry could see Death. The androgynous figure didn't say a word, just stood there with it's glowing, shifting eyes and watched. The brunet smiled sadly and strode forward, completely ignoring the sudden shriek from the man behind him. He reached the Veil and the whispers that he had heard all those years ago became voices. Voices that called him, that beckoned him, that beseeched him. He took the last step into the waiting arms of the Veil and darkness overtook him.

~0~

Harry was a little broken when he woke in a field. He was naked as the day he was born but for the moleskin pouch around his neck, inside which was all his most treasured worldly possessions and a small pile of gold and precious stones. Why it had made the trip and his clothes had not puzzled the old man but what concerned him the most was that his shell, the one that made him look older, the one that had taken every ounce of knowledge and patience of the greatest witch of his age to create, was gone.

He sighed, it would take years to reconstruct the shell, if he could even remember how, so he was stuck as a 17 year old, scrawny and short. Harry stood and took a look around himself. The field he had landed in had obviously never seen the hand of man, grass grew almost as tall as his 5'5" and the scent of pure nature surrounded him.

He was most obviously not on his earth, such places of pure unrefined nature had been only a memory for more than 200 years by the time he had left. He took a moment to bask in the glory of it before a stiff breeze reminded him that he was sens clothes. With a flip of a pale hand a wand appeared from the ether. While he was proficient at wandless magic, having practiced for many years, he knew for a fact that clothes produced in such a way didn't last as long as those conjured via a wand.

He paused, wondering what sort of clothing to make, muggle, wizard or something altogether different. The green eyed wizard settled on a tunic, pants and boots, comfortable, practical and easily changed to fit the style of those around him. Once attired he flicked his wand away and without a second thought picked a direction he assumed was north and set out.

~0~

He was in the past, he knew that the moment he saw the locals. They had probably just started gathering together to form villages, the remnants of hunters and gatherers from the looks of it. What Harry didn't know was if he was in his own past or the past of some other earth, because he was fairly sure he was on earth, the magic in the air felt similar but different.

He watched the village for a long time, trying to gather as much information as he could but eventually his notorious impatience won out and he approached one of the villagers. Luck was on his side that the villager he selected turned out to be the defacto chief.

"Well met." Harry greeted as he had seen others do in the days he had watched them. The words seemed funny to him, like what he heard wasn't what he was saying. The chief tightened his grip on the flint axe he carried but returned the greeting.

"Well met, strange one." The green eyes followed the man's lips, they didn't match his words. It was like an extremely powerful translation charm had been cast, one that worked both ways. "What brings you here?"

"I am traveling and am thankful to have stumbled upon you, for I have lost my way." The chief nodded and put down his axe. Harry was relieved at the easy acceptance because hunger had set in days before. "I had hoped to partake of a meal or two before going about my way."

"Come." The chief said turning back towards the village. Harry followed behind, eyes always open and taking in everything he could see in an attempt to discern where and when he was.

~0~

Harry stayed with the people of the unnamed village longer than he planned, because before he knew it a year had passed. He hadn't planned to but something always stopped him from leaving and he'd long before learned to listen to the whims of world round him.

And he was glad for it too, because not even two days past a year the village was attacked. Harry took up an axe in defence of the nameless village and helped drive away the attackers but in the last of the skirmishes a lucky shot got through and that last thing Harry was aware of was purple fire encasing his opponent as his head was caved in.

~0~

When he woke, Harry found himself wrapped in a rough sheet. It took him a moment to realize it was a burial cloth, and that he would have to leave the unnamed village because as far as they were concerned he was dead. He slipped away easily, after all in that time who guarded the dead.

Harry decided to travel, to see the world in all its ancient glory. And he did, he saw all the sights that could be seen, he saw the building of Stonehenge, the pyramids in all their glory and then he traveled further. Funnily enough he happened into what would be Israel just in time for the crucifixion. He finally had guesstimate date as to when he was so he set off for Rome.

He spent a long time in Italy, even joined the army, he saw the world through Roman eyes and visited every square inch of what was the Roman Empire. And when he grew bored of the soldier's life he died, changed his face and became a slave of all things.

He did that for a while, then changing his face and name again he left Italy. After many ages he returned to England and began in earnest his search for other magic users. He didn't find any. By the time the 1800s rolled around he'd visited every continent, dabbled in just about every job and trade he could find and was well and truly bored. He'd amassed quite a fortune in gold, silver and gems and decided to settle down in one place for a while.

~0~

Why he chose Italy again he didn't know, maybe because of the fond memories he had of the country or maybe because of the whisper of magic and not magic in his ear. He settled into a large house on the outskirts of Bologna and set about construction of the magic shell that would age him, he'd been putting it off for years even though he'd long since figured out how to make it.

It took two years to finish but the day he stepped out his door wearing it was the first day in a long, long time he felt unexposed to the world. He went about his life after that a little freer, a little happier. At least until he bumped into Giotto.

While he'd met many people over the years who also had the strange fires burning inside them that appeared when his life was most endangered, Giotto was the strongest most alluring of them all. He wanted to steer clear of the young man, the magic and not magic continued to push. As he got to know the blond he met the man's 'friends', friend being a loose term for the gaggle of followers that surrounded the powerful person. It was only after a long acquaintanceship that Harry found out about the Vongola, how he hadn't realized the blond was up to something he would never know.

Harry didn't join the Vongola as it set about battling the emerging Mafia, it just wasn't his battle and Giotto never asked him to. He did however find himself fascinated by the Rings, crafted by Talbot an old jeweler who felt old to Harry. He suspected some deep secret hidden in the old man, but he didn't pry after all he had his own secrets to keep.

Time passed and eventually Giotto, following a great battle, decided to step down from his throne and leave Italy. Harry visited the man once more on the eve of his departure.

"Giotto, my friend," he started as he he reached across the table to rest a hand on the man's arm, "Long have I known you and long will I miss your company."

"Hadrian," Giotto took a deep breath and clasped the hand on his arm with his own hand, "you have been a dear friend to me despite knowing all my truths, would that you come with us?"

Harry shook his head and the two sat in silence for a long time. Finally as dawn and the waiting ship approached Harry turned a sad smile on his first true friend in a very long time.

"If ever you are in true need, or if ever in the long line of your family your children find danger beyond their capacity, I will be there." Giotto smiled even as his brow creased at the wording but to Harry whose magic had only grown over the years the vow rang like gong.

And in the blink of an eye it seemed Giotto was gone, off on some great adventure and Harry was alone again. He tolled away the years in Italy trying to craft rings such as those that Talbot had crafted, those know worn by Ricardo and his 'Guardians'. Many years later in the dark of the night Harry woke to a shiver through his magic and Death standing at the foot of his bed.

Giotto was dying his magic said, Harry closed his eyes and felt for the connection forged between them by his vow and for the first time in thousands of years apperated. He followed the bond, flying blind so to speak, with Death just behind him and arrived with a quiet crack.

Thankfully Giotto was alone, asleep on a futon in a rice paper room. Harry took a moment to look at the old man that his friend had become before kneeling beside him. His blond hair was white and his face was lined with laughter and sorrow. Harry almost didn't have the heart to wake the man in his final hour but he knew Giotto would rather see Death coming then die in his sleep. He reached out a pale hand, young and vibrant without his shell, and touched his friend's shoulder.

Giotto came too slowly, his blue eyes blinking away sleep and age before turning to peer at his visitor. He looked for a long time at Harry, most probably not recognizing him, until finally a smile creased his weathered face.

"My friend, how good it is to see you, in this my last hour." He raised a shaking hand from bed and Harry carefully folded between his own. Giotto made no mention of his youthful face, younger even than when they had last met, and Harry said nothing of the flicker of the man's eyes to where Death stood. Not another said actually, they just sat there enjoying the last moments of each other's company.

Finally Harry felt Death move but this time Giotto's eyes remained locked on green ones, in them was all the words never spoken, the could have beens, the maybes and the goodbyes. Then blue eyes closed forever and Harry was alone but the shadow in the corner of his eye. Harry broke just a little more.

~0~

After leaving Giotto in Japan, Harry returned to Italy long enough to pack before moving back to jolly old England. He passed through just about every town and city in the Kingdom by the time the first World War rolled around and on a whim he joined the army again. This time in his shell he was able to remain the same person for a sizeable amount of time and so he found himself also participating in the horrors of WWII. Oh he could have ended it easily, as there were no magicals behind Hitler, or behind anyone for that matter, he could have put a stop to it all quite easily, but he knew that certain things, certain events were meant to happen. They had been written in stone and to change those thing to drastically was to break the stone altogether and that could mean the end of a timeline. Time Theory 101, he'd actually done fairly well in that class, though the knowledge of it was foggy at best.

After the war and after a particularly spectacular heroic death, Harry changed faces and names and moved on. He traveled again for a while but in the 1960's he took on a more permanent identity as the Great Skull the Undying, the man whom Death hated.