Alternative Summary:
Reincarnation, rebirth has always been finicky, so he was born, grew up, had a childhood and childhood friends and had to go. As it always was.
But nothing is straightforward when Fate gets involved, no matter how many times he's beaten it bloody, so he's back in a home he once had.
Rage aside, nostalgia is nice in doses.
Except when the implications of rebirth and time travel decides to pop, because honestly it slipped his mind.
So between a childhood friend with a fluctuating sanity and a younger alternate self? Just. Honestly.
Although in his defense as well, he more or less forgot about it.
He was an old brat, okay?
AN: It has been a while since I posted anything. Probably a year?
I don't think I'll be including anything from the Cursed Child or Fantastic Beasts because I've no time to read or watch them so...
Anyway grammar mistakes and the like are all mine.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one but, perhaps, the circumstances that happens in this story.
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Harry sat up and blinked. And blinked again. He was… somewhere. Not entirely sure where, but judging by the crick in his neck, he fell asleep? And ended sprawled uncomfortably on a bench in some park. Somewhere.
Somewhere, being a mostly empty park. A very well maintained one, granted.
He's been here before. Though the odds of him not ending up in a place he's never been before are slim to none. Especially given his habit of traveling about. And again his stubborn refusal to be sent off somewhere he wouldn't want to be on. His feelings on the matter were usually respected.
That aside, there was a certain familiarity about this world. Maybe he's been to this particular reality? Or maybe one real close to it. He was never really one to pay attention to the science behind things. Or magic. Mostly theory in general. Unless it was something that interested him. Like hobbies. Although his curiosity in medicine and culinary were always shifty at best.
He was the type to do things rather than think over them. Usually. But sometimes he had to be the voice of reason. That usually ended with, well…things ended.
But, other than those rare instances, if he were the type… well, spilt potions were best left banished away. Forever. Otherwise, someone was just asking to get hurt.
Someone cursing made Harry pause, stopping his pensive chin rubbing, ultimately dragging him back to the present. It sounds like English and of someone getting into fist fight and losing. What may be a glass bottle breaking soon followed the grunts from an alley nearby.
It was enough to remind him he was still… somewhere with no exact clue when, aside from it looking like it was pass the nineteenth century but then were always a couple of Fate that loves to spite him and looks are deceiving so for all he knew it could also be the eighteenth century or something; and, well, he didn't really want to get questioned or get in any trouble from whatever police around because they might assume he was a homeless sod (though technically he was, homeless, not a sod. At least he tries to not be. Usually, so he can't really be trusted with that assessment).
There was definitely magic present in this world though, if he were barefooted perhaps he could even feel a little pull of magic that thrummed through the earth. He wasn't though.
A pair of comfortable trainers covered his questionably achy feet. Settling more comfortably, more naturally casual on the bench and almost thoughtlessly changing his clothes with a snap of his fingers, Harry stretched his magic and senses.
He closed his eyes, calmed his mind and drank in the sensations.
He allowed himself to relax and reveled in the pull and push of several different energies at once, like the tide as it ebbs and flows by the moon's whim. He was sidetracked as he took in and appreciated the quasi-harmonious way the different energies and life forces intermingle between worlds.
It was humbling? But he still had things to do, regrettably.
Gathering his center once more, Harry tried to pinpoint the reason why?
Why was this world so familiar?
Why was there was a tugging at his already frayed heartstrings that recovered and became damaged from his latest rebirth?
He sighed.
The magic in the air was definitely familiar. Familiar enough that the normally latent magic briefly rose from its slumber to send a gentle pulse of fondness to his being, teasing a smile to his now chapped lips, before it kindly alleviated his confusion.
The corners of his lips twitched downwards a bit, though his light smile was still there, refusing to let the information he received to sully his meeting with the entity. An entity he can now safely say was very cordial and one that returned his respect and admiration. Especially during his Hogwarts years.
He sent his own answering pulse of gratitude for its help and had enough time to wish it a more filling rest when he felt the magic return to its fitful slumber.
Only when he was sure that the entity would not rise again did he allow the severe frown to completely replace the brittle smile he had.
He sighed again, pulled his legs up so he could put his arms around them. His confusion was definitely gone but a headache took its place.
London.
He got dumped off in London. In the current year of nineteen-ninety-one.
"Can't get any peace, can I? When I get my hands on this nasty Fate, I swear!" Harry mumbled indignantly, then grabbed his bag, got up and walked out the park. He walked a few blocks away from the park and crossed a street before stopping.
Turning his head this way and that a few times to check for witnesses or at least sober ones, he quickly flexed his fingers and a faux wand materialized in his hand (the gesture was admittedly a beckoning one, like he was beckoning the faux wand into existence). Harry gave it a few twirls letting sparks light the tip, letting it get used to channeling some of his magic, quickly turning to the general direction of where the Leaky Cauldron was even before he finished his discreet 'point me'. He shouldered his bag and casually started his trek, right hand firmly in his pocket.