Title: Otherworldly Adventurer

Chapter One: Great Power

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire

-I am a free writer, and I write when I feel like it, I am not on a schedule, so therefore updates will be infrequent.

-If I lose interest in this story I might just stop writing all together, though in the future I may find interest in it again and then take up updating it then.

-There will be lemons, profane language, character/death, prostitution, possibly torture or abuse (though not on Harry), lying, and probably other sins. If this bothers you, then don't read. You have been warned.

-Harry will participate in polygamy/bigamy, extramarital relations, and other acts of sexuality, though no homosexuality, so if this bothers you then don't read.

XXX

Walking into the Headmaster's office after all this time was an odd feeling to say the least. Not seeing the old man sitting behind his desk looking like Santa Clause made the room empty somehow. Though considering everything that had happened, after all the loss, it wasn't hard to see he could be melancholy.

Walking behind the desk he pulled out his newest acquisition, the Elder Wand, and with a lazy flick of his wrist and popping sound the drawer opened up. There were so many spells, so many enchantments, so many runes on this desk alone that the mere thought that someone could unlock it so easily was ridiculous, and yet here he was, defying normality once again.

Inside the small drawer was the object he knew would be there. It was his after all, and after his distant relatives, the Flamels, died he could now sense a strong connection to it. Sitting there, resting on purple silk, was the Philosopher's Stone.

He reached down and enchased the small stone in his hand before lifting it up to get a better look at it. He knew, after the Flamels had died, that the stone could only ever be destroyed by someone of the blood. Only someone of the Flamel bloodline who was bonded with the stone would be able to destroy it.

Looking it over he marveled at how beautiful it was. Like an uncut super ruby that had just been pulled from a mine in Africa. It looked smaller then he remembered, though to be fair he had been much smaller the one time he had held it before today.

He knew that it had not been destroyed like the old Headmaster had said, but didn't say anything about it. He had been denied just about everything he had ever wanted in life since he was dropped off on the Dursley's front door step at just a year and a half old. He didn't think things would change all of a sudden, especially over something so valuable, so he had kept his mouth shut. Opportunities to get it back would always present themselves and if nobody knew he was looking for it then nobody would know to keep it hidden from him.

He heard an audible cough from behind him. He stopped marveling at the beautiful gem and turned around the see the smiling moving portrait of the old Headmaster. He was giving him that same award-winning smile that he always had with that twinkle in his eye that persisted even after death.

Some may think Harry would hate the old man for what he had done to him. Played him like a chest piece on a board, used him, and withheld the truth from him. Those people would be ignorant to the truth.

The simple truth was that Harry actually agreed with what Dumbledore did to him. One life, no matter how bad it sounded, was not equal to a thousand. The prophecy made it clear that Harry would be the one to destroy Voldemort, or die and Voldemort would go uncontested.

When thinking of things rationally, instead of emotionally, the truth was quite clear. Harry was possibly the only salvation for the magical world, and if the loyalists who survived being thrown into Azkaban found him they would kill him in the most brutal ways imaginable, and when the Dark Lord came back there would be no one to defeat him.

The love magic cast by his mother kept him alive and safe from those people who would do such a thing to him, and while he was starved for attention and worked more than normal children, it was a better trade off than what it could have been.

His manipulations had to be put into question as well, but once again looking at it logically, it was clear why the old man did what he did. How could a child, who knew nothing of the magical world, be expected to figure out how Voldemort gained his immortality, grow strong and knowledgeable enough to defeat him, when others much older, wiser, and more powerful than him could not.

It was a ridiculous thought, one that Harry agreed with, so the manipulations had to come into play. Dumbledore, the brains behind the operations, and Harry, the means to see things done, worked as a perfect team, in a sense. Dumbledore would probably still be alive, defending Hogwarts with his powerful magic that would have no doubt saved many lives had he not sub come to guilt over his past and temptation in the form of the Resurrection Stone.

In the end, Dumbledore had been right… kind of. For the Greater Good, sacrifices must be made. He was the sacrifice. He wasn't upset about that. For all the pain he endured, the loneliness, hundreds of other children were able to feel love, compassion, and acceptance.

Without the sacrifice his family made, Voldemort would still be out killing and torturing without limit. It was not a fate he would have chosen for himself, but it was something needed for prosperity to occur. After all, there cannot be light without darkness, life without death, pleasure without pain. There will always be a balance in some form or another.

Smiling, breaking himself out of his thought, Harry walked over to the picture of his old mentor. "Looking good old man. Still got that twinkle I see."

The portrait Dumbledore smiled jovially. "Yes, it is amazing what magic can accomplish." His smile faded somewhat. "I hope-"

"Save it old man." His words were not said with anger or bitterness. He smiled lightly. His dirty, cut up, bruised face was still handsome even after all it had been put through. "I understand, and I agree with your methods. They worked after all, and now the world is healing, the right people will take over and fix what their predecessors messed up, and the world will be set on a better path."

The portrait Dumbledore had a smile that was truly happy and a tear that ran down his face was one of joy. "It destroyed me inside to do what I did to you." Harry sat there and let him/it, relieve some of the guilt it felt, regardless of the necessity for it. "I just couldn't think of any other way."

"Nobody is perfect old man" replied Harry. He lifted the Philosopher's Stone, then the Resurrection Stone, followed by the Elder Wand and the Cloak of Invisibility. "After all, in the end, I came out pretty well if I do say so myself.

"The Master of Death, all the life you could ever stand, and all the gold you could ever want. Yes, you did come off very well. So, tell me, what is it like being the Master of Death?" It was a rhetorical question, but one he felt incline to answer.

"Being Master of Death just means being able to accept that death is a natural thing and we must all succumb to it sooner or later. All things die, and death is not something to fear, for in death we take our first step on the next great adventure."

"Interesting" he stroked his long white beard. "So, what will you do now, Mr. Hero?"

"I don't know, travel most likely." He reached into his bag and pulled out several artifacts that surprised even portrait Dumbledore.

The first of course was the Sword of Gryffindor, the second was Salazar' Slytherin's locket, then there was Helga Hufflepuff's cup, followed by Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. All four of the founder's most cherished possessions were now in the Headmaster's office.

"I figured I would leave these as school artifacts for future generations. I have no use for them after all." He picked them up and showed them off one by one. He noticed the look of confusion on Dumbledore's face, so he figured he would enlighten him. "I used to Elder Wand to repair them."

"Ah, now I see" spoke the happy Dumbledore. "I guess I will be seeing you later then Harry?"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Maybe" before disappearing through the headmaster's door.

XXX

Harry walked down to the fourth floor of the castle. His destination was an obvious choice even though it was now common knowledge after it had been used to house most of the Gryffindor students while Snape had been Headmaster.

Stopping in front of the Room of Requirements Harry lamented on the fact that most of the things inside of it had been destroyed in the Goyle's half assed use of Fiendfyre. The irony that someone as dumb as Goyle made it into the House of Slytherin and was not smart enough to learn to control such a dangerous spell was not lost on the lone lion. It also angered him greatly as there could have been many valuable books, relics, and ingredients inside of the room that were now lost to the world forever.

Taking a deep breath in order to clear his mind of the stupidity of others Harry reaffirmed his mental shields. Once his mind was calmed he made it absolutely clear what he desired. Luckily the magic of the Room of Requirements had not been damaged by the dark magic as a door seemed to grow from the stone wall. It took it a moment but eventually a grand door standing over fifteen feet vertical made of steel appeared before the lone lion.

Not even checking to see if someone was watching him he strode forward and opened the gargantuan door. Inside was not what most would expect his desires to be. It was simple a bare stone room. Granted the possibility of what the room was capable of conjuring now was unknown. It stood to reason that it could have still been able to form moderate desires, but a bare room hidden away from prying eyes was exactly what Harry had wanted. It also in turn became what he got.

Walking over towards the center of the room Harry sat down. The bag at his hip was soon opened as its owner began to pull out various instruments. Eventually a small potions lab was formed from the myriad items he had borrowed from the former Head of Slytherin. Considering Snape was dead it stood to reason he wouldn't miss it very much.

Working alone Harry pulled out a jug of tapped water. Absent mindedly he poured a gallon of water into the cauldron. With a flick of his hand a small fire formed under the pewter kettle. It didn't take long for the water to boil though he had to make sure it was stirred every twelve minutes. Once a quart of water had evaporated from the pot he knew he was ready for stage two of his plans.

Fishing out the Philosopher's Stone from his pocket he gently looked it over. The ruby red crystalline stone reflected beautifully even in the dimly lit room. It was cool to the touch and had a texture not dissimilar to glass. He figured this is what a ruby this size would probably feel like had he ever even had the money to buy such a thing.

Without much fanfare he dropped it into the cauldron. The boiling water changed from clear water to almost a liquid maroon color. Again, he waited until a quart of the water was boiled away while stirring the contents every twelve minutes. After a while the maroon color settled on a ruby red.

"This next part is a bit disturbing." Harry had always been against blood magic. Although it had been used to save his life the use of blood as a medium just gave him the creeps.

With a silver blade he had borrowed from the Herbology classroom he slit his hand. The cold sting was ignored as twelve drops of blood dripped down into the cauldron. Curiously the water turned into a soft pink instead of darkening into something more sinister as one might expect. Just looking at it made Harry's mind wander. It had been this elixir that had allowed Nicholas Flamel and his wife to live for over six centuries. This elixir was once almost used by Voldemort to return him to corporeal form. And it was this elixir that drove so many to recreate it. Now the Elixir of Life was Harry's, and yet it was not enough.

Sometimes Harry wondered if it was his nature to want the best or if he was starting down a long and dark road. He had no desire for power that is gained from a position, but mastery over magic had always intrigued him. It was for this reason alone he had worked so hard to master many unique branches of magic. Still, until he started hurting others in pursuit of something, he felt he was still on the right path.

"I wonder if Nicholas ever thought of advancing his own creation." It was certainly possible. Yet sometimes geniuses create something great but do not find ways to make it better. That was the difference between invention and innovation. "Maybe he just didn't want to life forever. I know I don't but making this potion repeatedly seems so tedious. Since it doesn't make the user truly immortal I cannot see why he wouldn't create an Elixir of Eternal Life instead of just a temporary fix in the Elixir of Life."

While pondering this question a flame burst into life upon Harry's shoulder. With a beautiful voice Fawkes of all creatures appeared perched on his shoulder. To anyone else this would have been a major shock yet to the duo this was an old hat by now. Before saying anything, the Boy Who Lived reached up and patted the ancient bird upon the head to which it nuzzled his hand thankfully.

"How have you been my friend?" The bird's call did not translate as human words did to Harry, but the sense did reach him. Through their familiar bound a connection had formed deep within them. This allowed the other to understand the latter in new and profound ways. "That is good. Do you mind? It is almost time."

Fawkes bobbled his head up and down before leaning over. On cue a tiny tear drop began to form in the corner of the bird's magnificent eyes. A moment later two drops fell into the boiling cauldron. Instantly the water changed from ruby red to molten gold. In a swift effort Harry began to stir the pot though now counter clockwise.

With on hand stirring he used the other to pull out a small beaker. He didn't really need to use such a thing it just was the first thing he saw. In a deft motion he poured the contents of the cauldron into the beaker making sure to get ever single last drop. In the end only, a cup of liquid remained with the Philosopher's Stone now resting at the bottom of the pot.

The potion was warm to the touch as the heat had transferred quickly through the glass. Yet he didn't hesitate to turn his head back and gulp the substance down. Instead of burning him horribly a sudden sensation of elation traveled through his body. Like drinking a perfect cup of hot coco made by a loving mother in a warm environment every cell in Harry's body sang with joy.

When he was done he wanted to slam the beaker onto the floor in anger for being empty so soon. After a moment he was able to control himself. The moment had passed and there was no point is beating himself up over something that cannot be changed.

"Wow!" Harry looked over at Fawkes. "That was good." The bird leaned down and rubbed his head against Harry's seemingly joyful that he was happy.

"I know no one can live forever." He looked at the beaker in his hand. "But I still want to enjoy my time. When I am ready or when the world is tired of me I will die but until then there are so many secrets we can discover together." Fawkes agreed with him singing a happy tune no doubt overjoyed at having someone to stay with him for longer than mortals usually survived.

After that Harry packed up the makeshift potions set making sure to clean every one with a flick of his wand. The Philosopher's Stone was placed inside a magical metal box meant to protect it from detection, theft, and just getting lost in general.

In no time he had left with no one being anymore aware of what had happened inside those four walls than anyone else.

XXX

Being a celebrity was nice. Being a hero was great. Being a messiah to a bunch of idiots was nothing short of a chore.

It had only been a month since the end of the Second Wizarding War and already people were clamoring for Harry to be their everything. They wanted to know if he would become Headmaster of Hogwarts, if he would run for Minister of Magic, and or take any number of offices Dumbledore had when he ended his own magical war.

Harry had no interest in any of these things. He wanted adventure, to learn in a practical way, to see new sights, meet new people, learn exotic magic, and discover unknown creatures. He did not want to be hounded by the media which had caused him so much grief in his life, stalkers, hangers on, politicians, companies, and everyone else who seemed to want a piece of him.

He wanted to live, not rot!

For that reason, he had decided to travel. Not around the world as magical people when stalking you did so much better than anyone else ever could. No, he decided to try a new dimension. It was a bit of lost knowledge but with some digging, some guessing, and a little ingenuity he was able to figure out how the Veil worked. Well he had first had to figure out its original purpose but after that the designation was clear.

Oh, how it would make Hermione so jealous to learn that he had been the one to possibly make the greatest magical discovery in a thousand years without all her tedious studying or research. It would throw her into a furry if she ever learned he never intended to teach or even reveal what he knew to anyone thus dooming this tidbit of information to remain in the dark possibly forever.

His discovery was simple as it was complex. The Veil of Death was actually a massive portal that dug tunnels between dimensions using magic. There was possibly an infinite number of universes so locating a specific one was an art in and of itself. Why it had been used to try and break into Death's domain was beyond Harry. Best guess was someone trying to avoid death or someone trying to bring someone back from the dead.

Regardless of reason the knowledge on how to control it was lost and its setting was stuck in Death's domain.

Harry had no interest in going to the land of the dead. He had already made it to Limbo and back, but he didn't believe himself lucky enough to enter Death's realm and just be able to sneak off back to the land of the living. Thus, he simply needed to alter the knobs so to speak so he could travel to a world that was both interesting, livable, and most importantly not filled with Harry Potter nuts.

For that reason, Harry used Fawkes' ability to teleport using fire to enter the Department of Mysteries. He could have gotten the clearance because well he was Harry Potter, but where is the fun in that?

The room that housed the Veil of Death was still the same as he remembered it last. Quiet, still, as if the world was holding its breath. It was fitting seeing as Death's home was on the other side of a narrow tunnel protected only by a thin veil of magic. This should not be the case. Limbo existed to prevent death and life from touching. They would destroy one another should such a thing occur. The magicals who made this thing didn't realize how close to destroying the world they came in their ignorance.

"Ok that morose thought was depressing" announced Harry, whose voice echoed off the walls. Fawkes' bobbled his head in agreement. "Now let's see here… where is that little control stone?" He moved about running his hands through the sand and over the boulders which were situated all around the arch.

"Ahah! Here it is!" His triumphant cheer was accompanied by the much more beautiful voice of Fawkes. "You really are a competitive bird, aren't you?" Fawkes pecked him though it was light and didn't cause any pain. "Alright, you're the best and I am just jealous I get it." That seemed to brighten his fire bird up some.

Shaking his head and getting back to work Harry pushed the bird's temperament from his thoughts as he looked over the runes upon the central stone. At its heart there was an octagon with a faint red smear. "Why is it always blood that is needed to operate these things?" His question went unanswered as he pulled a goblin-silver knife from his belt and slashed his own hand.

He placed his bloody hand on the octagonal symbol. The symbols on the first bolder started to glow a dim blue before the rest followed suite. "No wonder so many people died back then. Having to cut yourself to operate everything no doubt lead to wide spread infections, disease, and blood loss." He got an annoyed peck from Fawkes which was more to keep his attention focused on the task at hand.

"I know I know" was all Harry said as he looked back at the Veil. "Now let's see what we can cook up." It took him a while to get used to operating the Veil. He quickly realized digging a tunnel to an alternate dimension took too long. Instead he could pierce reality to get faint glimpses of the other dimensions. This method was much faster.

"This one is nice" announced Harry as his eyes, unknown to him, were glowing brighter than even the killing curse as he gazed past how own reality and into another's. "I see mist mostly but there is a city not too far out. A city usually means people, and if there are people then I won't go crazy having no one to talk to." He received another peck for that comment as well. "You are an exception! I need human contact!" One more peck to the temple. "Uhggg! How about this? I need to touch of a beautiful woman every once in a while, or else I will go stir crazy!" That seemed to satisfy the immortal bird. "Jerk." Peck, peck, peck. "Owww!"

Rubbing his temple and shooting the burnt chicken a glare Harry twisted his hand on the octagon. A pulse of magic spread from the room like a massive heart beat. Although there was no sound, vibrations, or anything else the sense that something was moving in between space could still be felt in one's soul. It was a terrifying and awe-inspiring thing.

Once the tunnel was complete it was like starring out of a door. The Veil was the frame and the new world was the door. All he needed to do was take a step forward and he should be in a new dimension.

As he walked towards it his familiar squawked and pulled him back a bit. "What is it now? I thought you were as excited as I was about this trip." Fawkes' graceful neck turned towards the direction he had come from. Confused he looked back and saw the backpack he had taken with him lying on the floor.

"Oh crap! I almost forgot… everything really." His familiar was now looking at him with less hope than he had that very morning. "Look! This is very new stuff ok! It's not every day a man drills a hole in reality to bridge two dimensions together you know! Cut me some slack alright?" Surprisingly Fawkes seemed to except this excuse.

Walking over to the back where he grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He wasn't tempting the loss of his more important magical objects such as the Elder Wand, the Cloak of Invisibility, the Resurrection Stone, or the Philosopher's Stone. These three powerful magical objects were transfigured into rings which retained the powers of the objects though in new forms which Harry now wore on his left hand.

He didn't expect that traveling along the magical tunnel to the new world would be a bumpy or unpleasant event unlike most magical travel but best safe than sorry. His backpack could be lost somehow along the way or possibly while entering the new dimension. To be without his greatest tools in a new and possibly hostile dimension was not a risk he was willing to take.

He slipped his original wand into the holster strapped to his right forearm before slinging his backpack over his shoulder. This jostling rumpled Fawkes on his perch but he was amiable about it.

"I can't say it is going to be all sunshine and daisies from here on out, but I will say that I am happy to have you as my travel companion." He reached up to stroke Fawkes' feathers. He sang lightly in appreciation. "Otherwise who will pull me out of a dangerous situation when I do something foolish?"

Fawkes' squawks sounded suspiciously like laughter but one mystery at a time. Everyone has quirks there was no doubt. In his experience birds in the magical world tended to have them as well. They also tended to have more humanly emotions and understanding than most others. In fact, Fawkes and Hedwig both seemed to understand emotions than most of the people Harry had ever known, himself included. It was quite fascinating.

"Well, new world, watch out" began Harry as his feet took him towards the Veil. "I am coming for you. I won't say that I am the best of people." There was a predatory grin on his face. "But at least I can say I am not the worst. Regardless, I am on my way." With that Harry Potter ran into the Veil at full speed with his familiar Fawkes flying right beside him.