so a new year and I thought I would give the tried but true favourite a go in the new year with a new SI in one of my favourite worlds. There will be some mild bashing of a few characters that I dislike from the book/movie but I won't be going out of my way to beat them down more than they deserve. There will be adult themes and some extreme violence, so skip this if you don't like that sort of thing.

I don't own any of these characters apart for the ones I made up. Helpful comments and encouragement always wlecome

Chapter 1

"Be careful what you wish for, lest it come true!"

-Aesop's Fables 263Bc

Prologue

6.2 billion years ago.

The universe is a great and splendid thing, a marvel of balanced energy and matter, far beyond the understanding of all who live in her vast depths. Though many have tried to understand her mystery's through the aeons. There are wonders to drive even the coldest of hearts to tears. And terrors to break the strongest of wills. And sometimes the universe is just...odd.

Things that should by the universes very own laws and nature should not be possible, pop up from time to time. Making those studying the deeper mystery's just scratch their heads in confusion.

The universe in question was still reasonably young as universes are accounted by such things and was still finding it's way. In an unremarkable galaxy that had yet to see the rise of sentient life yet, but would one day be called the milky way galaxy by a biped life form that is the cause of a great deal of chaos both good and bad throughout the omniverse.

There was a super blue giant sun. Such suns should not be possible, but this was one of those quirks of nature that pop up from time to time. And if this was all. This and many other story's would never have happened. And the omniverse would be a lot less interesting place today. This blue giant sun crossed paths with a rogue black hole while at the same time a young extra-dimensional entity with only one letter for a name thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if the black hole became a white hole, while it was consuming the sun. Thought became reality.

The results were far more than he expected. The resulting explosion would have blinded anyone in the galaxy if there had been anyone to see it. And unleashed a raging storm of extra-dimensional energy's that should never have been able to make it into this fragile level of reality. One of the spiral arms of the milky way was completely blown off and thrown off into the universe giving the matter in that section a negative charge as, as it flew off into the void.

The young entity looked on at the results of his experiment with a great deal of worry as the explosion also sent cracks throughout the multiverse, reaching forward and backwards in time.

A short while later his parents found him desperately trying and failing to fix his mistake. His attempts unfortunately only making matters worse.

When his parents showed up, half the galaxy was in danger of being destroyed by the exotic energy's that their son had unintentionally released.

This later led to him being grounded for 10 million years and a stern talking to, about the responsibility of using his powers wisely.

Unfortunately, this lecture went in one metaphysical ear and out the other, but that is a story for another time.

The two parents looked onto the raging storm of energy as it threatened to consume the small galaxy. Thinking of the great deal of embarrassment they would have to deal with if they had to call in the rest of their kind to fix this disaster there son had caused. Instead, they decided they would cover it up and not have to deal with the rest of their kind looking down on there son for an innocent mistake. So instead of calling in the rest of there kind and fixing the damage properly, they did the best they could to repair the damage and cover it up. This goes to show even super extra-dimensional omniscient beings can make bad choices just like the rest of us. They tried to fix all the damage that their son had caused. This was, unfortunately, beyond even their power to fix completely, though they patched it up as best they could. The explosion had caused a spiders web of, cracks to form throughout the multiverse. The young entity's parents had repaired the damage as best they could and patched up what they couldn't, which is mostly the reason why people and objects seemingly end up in random times and places whenever younger races mess however unknowingly with reality.

This is one of those stories.

Train station - Place between worlds.

He lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some sort of surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.

Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not concern him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered whether, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes.

He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like any mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapour; rather the cloudy vapour had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.

He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing his glasses anymore.

Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him the small soft thumping of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

For the first time, he wished he were clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in his head then robes appeared a short distance away. Standing up he walked over to the clothing, took them up and pulled them on. They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared, just like that, the moment he had wanted them..…

He stood up, looking around. Was he in some great Room of Requirement? The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist..…

Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for...

He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had seemed to be the form of a small, naked child, curled up into a pitiful ball on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, at it as it lay there shuddering under a seat where it seemed to have been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.

He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless, he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but the small being repulsed him, beyond words.

"You cannot help him now it is far too late for that I'm afraid my boy."

He spun around. Albus Dumbledore was walking toward him, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

"Harry."

He spread his arms wide, and his hands were both whole and white and undamaged.

"You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

Stunned, Harry followed as Dumbledore strode away from where the flayed child lay whimpering, leading him to two seats that Harry had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling. Dumbledore sat down in one of them, and Harry fell into the other, staring at his old headmaster's face. Dumbledore's long silver hair and beard, the piercingly blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, the crooked nose. Everything was as he had remembered it. And yet…

"But you're dead,"

Said, Harry.

"Oh yes,"

said Dumbledore matter of factly.

"Then … I'm dead too?"

"Ah,"

said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly.

"That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not."

They looked at each other, the old man still beaming.

"Not?" repeated Harry.

"Not," said Dumbledore.

"But …"

Harry raised his hand instinctively toward the lightning scar. It did not seem to be there.

"But I should have died — I didn't defend myself! I meant to let him kill me!"

"And that." Said Dumbledore. "Will, I think, have made all the difference."

Happiness seemed to radiate from Dumbledore like light, like fire. Harry had never seen the man so utterly, so palpably content.

"Explain,"

said Harry.

"But you already know."

Said Dumbledore. He twiddled his thumbs together.

"I let him kill me, Didn't I?" Said Harry.

"You did." Said Dumbledore, nodding. "Go on!"

"So the part of his soul that was in me …"

Dumbledore nodded still more enthusiastically, urging Harry onward, a broad smile of encouragement on his face.

"… has gone?"

"Oh yes!" said Dumbledore. "Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is whole, and completely your own now, Harry."

"But then …"

Harry glanced over his shoulder to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair.

"What is that, Professor?"

"Something that is beyond either of our help I'm afraid." Said Dumbledore a little sadly.

"But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse."

Harry started again, confusion writ on his face as he tried to work out what was happening.

"And nobody died for me this time how can I be alive?"

"I think you know," said Dumbledore. "Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and his lust for power."

Harry thought. He let his gaze drift over his surroundings. If it was indeed a palace in which they sat, it was an odd one, with chairs set in little rows and bits of railing here and there, and still, he and Dumbledore and the stunted creature under the chair were the only beings there. Then the answer rose to his lips easily, without effort.

"He took my blood," said Harry.

"Precisely!" said Dumbledore. "He took your blood and rebuilt himself a new body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily's protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!"

"I live … while he lives? But I thought … I thought it was the other way round! I thought we both had to die? Or is it the same thing?"

He was distracted by the whimpering and thumping of the agonized creature behind them and glanced back at it yet again.

"Are you sure we can't do anything?"

"There is no help possible for it I'm afraid."

"Then explain … more." Asked Harry his brow writ in confusion, Dumbledore smiled.

"You were the seventh Horcrux, Harry, the Horcrux he never meant to make. He had rendered his soul so unstable that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil, the murder of your parents, the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that room was even less than he knew. He left more than his body behind. He left part of himself which latched onto you, the would-be victim who had survived.

"And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Harry! That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never managed to grasp.

"He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment your mother laid upon you when she died for you. His body keeps her sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you and so does Voldemort's one last hope for himself."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, and Harry stared at him.

"And you knew this? You knew — all along?"

"I guessed. But my guesses have usually been good, I've found over the years."

Said Dumbledore happily. Both sat in silence for what seemed like a long time, while the creature behind them continued to whimper and tremble.

"There's more," said Harry. "There's more to it.

Why did my wand break the wand he borrowed?"

"As to that, I cannot be sure."

"Guess then."

Said Harry, and Dumbledore laughed.

"What you must understand, Harry is that you and Lord Voldemort have journeyed together into realms of magic hitherto unknown and untested. But here is what I think happened, and it is unprecedented, and no wand maker could, I think, ever have predicted it or explained it to Voldemort."

"Without meaning to, as you now know, Lord Voldemort doubled the bond between you when he returned to a human form. A part of his soul was still attached to yours, and, thinking to strengthen himself, he took a part of your mother's sacrifice into himself. If he could only have understood the precise and terrible power of that sacrifice, he would not have dared to touch your blood. … But then, if he had been able to understand, he would not be Lord Voldemort, and might never have murdered at all."

"Having ensured this two-fold connection, having wrapped your destinies together more securely than ever two wizards were joined in history, Voldemort proceeded to attack you with a wand that shared a core with yours. And now something very strange happened, as we know. The cores reacted in a way that Lord Voldemort, who never knew that your wand was a brother wand to his own."

"He was more afraid than you were that night in the grave yard, Harry. You had accepted, even embraced, the possibility of death, something Lord Voldemort has never been able to do. Your courage won, your wand overpowered his. And in doing so, something happened between those wands, something that echoed the relationship between their masters."

"I believe that your wand imbibed some of the power and qualities of Voldemorts wand that night, which is to say that it contained a little of Voldemort himself. So your wand recognized him when he pursued you, recognized a man who was both kin and mortal enemy, and it regurgitated some of his own magic against him, magic much more powerful than anything Lucius wand had ever performed. Your wand now contained the power of your enormous courage and of Voldemorts own deadly skill. What chance did that poor stick of Lucius Malfoys stand?"

"But if my wand was so powerful, how come Hermione was able to break it?"

Asked Harry.

"My dear boy, its remarkable effects were directed only at Voldemort, who had tampered so ill advisedly with the deepest laws of magic. Only toward him was that wand abnormally powerful. Otherwise, it was a wand like any other. Though a good one, I am sure."

Dumbledore finished kindly. Harry sat in thought for a long time or perhaps seconds. It was very hard to be sure of things like time, here.

"He killed me with your wand."

"He tried to kill you with my wand."

Dumbledore corrected.

"I think we can both agree that you are not dead though, of course."

He added as if fearing he had been discourteous.

"I do not mean to minimize your sufferings, which I am sure were quite severe."

"I feel great at the moment, though."

Said Harry, looking down at his clean, unblemished hands.

"Where are we, exactly?"

"Well, I was going to ask you that."

Said Dumbledore, looking around.

"Where would you say that we are?"

Until Dumbledore had asked, Harry had not known. Now, however, he found that he had an answer ready to give.

"We're at Kings Cross station."

Ahhhh Dumbledore replied.

"A place of travelling from one place to another. Harry my boy I believe I owe you an apology. The ring I picked it up, and I put it on, and for a second I imagined that I was about to see Ariana, and my mother, and my father, and to tell them how very, very sorry I was. … I was such a fool, Harry. After all those years I had learned nothing. I was unworthy to unite the Deathly Hallows, I had proved it time and again, and here was the final proof."

"Why?" said Harry. "It was natural! You wanted to see them again. What's wrong with that?"

"Maybe one man in a million could unite the Hallows, Harry. I was fit only to possess the meanest of them, the least extraordinary. I was only fit to own the Elder Wand, and not to boast of it, and not to kill with it. I was permitted to tame it and use it, because I took it, not for gain, but to save others from it."

"But the Cloak, I took out of vain curiosity, and so it could never have worked for me as it works for you, its true owner. The stone I would have used in an attempt to drag back those who are at peace, rather than to enable my self sacrifice, as you did. You are the worthy possessor of the Hallows."

Dumbledore patted Harry's hand, and Harry looked up at the old man and smiled; He could not help himself. How could he remain angry with Dumbledore now?

"Why did you have to make it so difficult?"

Dumbledore's smile was tremulous.

"I am afraid I counted on Miss Granger to slow you down, Harry. I was afraid that your hot head might dominate your good heart. I was scared that, if presented outright with the facts about those tempting objects, you might seize the Hallows as I did, at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. If you laid hands on them, I wanted you to possess them safely. You are the true master of death because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying."

"And Voldemort never knew about the Hallows?"

"I do not think so, he did not recognize the Resurrection Stone he turned into a Horcrux. But even if he had known about them, Harry, I doubt that he would have been interested in any except the first. He would not think that he needed the Cloak, and as for the stone, whom would he want to bring back from the dead? He fears the dead. He does not love."

"But you expected him to go after the wand?"

"I have been sure that he would try, ever since your wand beat Voldemorts in the graveyard of Little Hangleton. At first, he was afraid that you had conquered him by superior skill. Once he had kidnapped Ollivander, however, he discovered the existence of the twin cores. He thought that explained everything. Yet the borrowed wand did no better against yours! So Voldemort, instead of asking himself what quality it was in you that had made your wand so strong, what gift you possessed that he did not, naturally set out to find the one wand that, they said, would beat any other. For him, the Elder Wand has become an obsession to rival his obsession with you. He believes that The Elder Wand removes his last weakness and makes him truly invincible. Poor Severus …"

"If you planned your death with Snape, you meant him to end up with the Elder Wand, didn't you?"

"I admit that was my intention."

Said Dumbledore.

"But it did not work as I intended, did it?"

"No," said Harry. "That bit didn't work out."

The creature behind them jerked and moaned, and Harry and Dumbledore sat without talking for the longest time yet. The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"That is up to you."

"I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes."

Dumbledore smiled at him.

"We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to … let's say … board a train."

"And where would it take me?"

"Onwards into mystery..."

Said Dumbledore simply. Silence again.

"Voldemorts got the Elder Wand."

"True. Voldemort has the Elder Wand."

"But you want me to go back?"

"I think."

Said Dumbledore.

"That if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry, that you have far less to fear from returning here than he does."

Harry glanced again at the raw looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadows beneath the distant chair. Dumbledore followed his gaze.

"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say good bye for the present."

Harry tiredly looked at the thing under the seat for a long minute thinking...

"No, I don't think I will go back. I'm so tired everything up until now in my life has been nothing but struggle and pain. All my family is gone and only Hermonie is really left. I think it is time for me to move on. I've done more than my share. It's time for me to rest."

Harry looked over at Dumbledore as he spoke expecting to see surprise or perhaps disappointment on his face, but all he saw was a calm look of acceptance.

"Very well my boy, then you know what you have to do."

They both stood Harry, taking a few uncertain steps towards the train, after the first few, his steps became firmer as he walked across the platform towards the train. Climbing up and boarding the train, Potter Looked back from the top step he noted that Dumbledore hadn't moved from his spot.

"Aren't you coming with me?"

He called out. Dumbledore smiled and shook his head.

"No my boy this isn't my train it's yours, mine will be along in a little while."

The whistle blew and the train slowly started to leave the station. Harry stood on the back of the train watching until Dumbledore disappeared into the mists.

Harry James Potter passed from this life and was never seen again.