Disclaimer: I'm afraid that my limited brain capacity would never allow me to produce such a wonderful concept as Harry Potter, nor would my finances allow me to buy him. Therefore, I regretfully state that I own neither Harry Potter, nor any other characters that you may recognize. I'm not even sure if I own the plot.

Note: I'm assuming that you already know the basic story of Harry Potter from books 1 through 5.

'Italics' stand for thoughts/letters or text

Author's Note: This is a companion story for Beyond My World; please read that first.

Please keep in mind that this is not the Harry you know. He has been raised in a completely different manner from the books and is therefore somewhat OOC.

Chapter One: A Snake in the Lion's Den

Day One, Evening:

Even before he opened his eyes, Harry knew that something was wrong. Faint voices in the background made him strain to make out what they were saying, but he could only catch wisps of the conversation.

"…he'll ever wake up?"

"…survived the Killing Curse before…"

"What spell…"

"…Professor Dumbledore used…"

"…nothing wrong…looks like a coma…"

'A coma? The Killing Curse? And what does that bumbling fool Dumbledore have to do with this?' Harry wondered. 'Where am I? I smell antiseptic…a hospital of some sort, perhaps.'

Abruptly, the door banged open and someone ran in. "Ron, your mom's here!" the newcomer panted. "Professor Dumbledore wants you, Ginny, and Hermione in his office right now!" There was a subdued murmur of surprise as whoever had been in the room exited. Once they had gone, a peaceful silence settled, and Harry dared to sit up. Looking around, he saw rows of empty beds and a few racks of potions.

'Okay, so I'm in a hospital. But why and what for? And how come no one's guarding me? What's going on here?' Determined to find out, Harry slid out of bed and stretched, grabbing his wand off the bedside table as he headed for the door.

However, he had not taken more than five steps when a woman entered the room and began scolding him. "Mr. Potter, where do you think you're going? First you give us all a heart attack, then you try to sneak out! What am I going to do with you?"

Harry was so shocked by her tone and behavior that he allowed her to guide him back to his bed without putting up a fight. She seemed suspicious of his calm compliance. "Don't you dare try to get out of here until tomorrow at the earliest. You need to stay in case there are any side effects. I've put Warning Charms on the area, so don't think you can slip by. One of the house elves will bring you something to eat later. Until then, get some rest." The woman swept back out, leaving Harry gaping after her.

'Something very weird is going on. Let's think about this logically. I'm in a hospital of some sort. There are Warding Charms set up, so I'll have to dismantle them before I leave. There's also a strange lady who appears to like me, or at least care about me, which is really odd. How come she seems so comfortable around me? I'm the Dark Lord's heir, for heaven's sake! Speaking of which, wasn't I in a meeting when I collapsed? Maybe this lady works for us. She didn't seem afraid though, more like…concerned? Motherly, maybe?

'Wait a minute. Something is off. My magic feels…wrong.'

Still sitting on the bed, Harry twirled his wand and pointed it at a pillow. "Wingardium Leviosa." Obediently, the fluffy object rose, but far more slowly than it should have. 'Uh oh. Whoever caught me must have weakened my magic somehow.'

Setting his wand down, he waved his hand and Conjured up a mirror. Almost instantly, he felt a sharp energy drain. It was a sensation he had not felt since he had mastered wandless magic at the age of twelve. 'This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger.'

He gazed at his reflection and froze in alarm. 'Oh my goodness, that is not me. That cannot be me. I was never that…puny. What have they done to me?!'

Not wanting to panic in the middle of unfamiliar territory, Harry settled into a meditative trance. As he cleared his mind, faded memories drifted into his head, memories that were, and yet were not, his own.

An hour later, Harry pulled out of his meditations, slightly calmer, but still confused. 'All right, it seems I now have two sets of memories. If those memories are true, I must be at Hogwarts, in the Hospital Wing, and that lady was Madam Pomfrey, the nurse. This is definitely not the best place to be. Could this day get any worse?'

Naturally, this was the wrong thing to say, or rather, think. Moments later, the door opened to admit none other than Albus Dumbledore.

…………

'Dumbledore!' Fighting to maintain a blank face, Harry tried to put up some Occlumency shields. Unfortunately, his magic was still responding sluggishly and he was unable to do much. 'Not good, not good, definitely not good. But if my "other" memories are correct, Dumbledore thinks I'm a good little Gryffindor. Maybe I can use this to my advantage. I'll have to play along for now, until I can contact the Dark Lord and find out what's going on.'

"Professor, what happened?" he asked, keeping his expression innocent.

"Ah, Harry, it seems you have survived the Killing Curse once again."

'Again? Oh, right. I'll have to add an illusion soon, or someone is bound to notice that the scar is missing. Good thing my hair is so messy; it should cover my forehead for now.'

"What do you remember about yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" Harry repeated, trying to collect his scattered thoughts. "We were, um, at Hogsmeade when the Da— I mean, V-Voldemort, showed up. He tried to kill me and I think you hit me with another spell at the same time…and then everything went black."

Looking slightly suspicious at Harry's slip, Dumbledore nodded. "That's exactly what happened. I tried that spell in hopes that it would help counter the Killing Curse, and it appears I was successful."

"What spell did you use, Professor?"

"It was a complex Shielding Charm that I have been working on for some time now. I've been trying to make it strong enough to resist the Unforgivables, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes, it has the strangest results. In fact, the last time I tried it, I somehow ended up a hundred miles away from where I originally was."

"This spell can transport people?" Harry realized, in light of this fact, that the combination of the two spells must have somehow transported him into a different dimension, one with a completely different history.

"So it seems. How are you feeling, Harry? Any side effects?"

"No, Professor, I feel perfectly fine. When can I get out of here?"

"Ah, I see you are as eager as always to get out of the Hospital Wing. Well, if you are certain that you are up to it, I don't see why you shouldn't leave now. I'll talk to Madam Pomfrey. Make sure you get your homework for all your classes, though. You don't want to fall behind."

"Yes, sir." Inwardly rejoicing, Harry seized his wand, took the stack of robes that Madam Pomfrey offered him, and ducked behind the bed curtains to change. Once he was clad in his school uniform, he left and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, using the memories from his counterpart's life.

Just as he turned the corner to the entrance, a girl with bushy brown hair rushed forward and hugged him in delight. "Harry! You're awake! Ron and I were afraid that you wouldn't make it! Did you know Mrs. Weasley is here? Everyone's really worried about you!"

"Er…" Not used to having people worry about him in such an…exuberant way, Harry stiffened, but tried his best to act casual. "I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry."

"That's what you always say! Come with me; Ron's waiting in the common room."

Still somewhat bewildered, Harry allowed the girl, whom he had identified as Hermione Granger, to drag him through the opening behind a portrait of a fat lady. In the Gryffindor common room, a redheaded boy rushed towards them, grinning happily. "Harry, mate, you're all right! Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah, um, I'm fine."

"So what happened?" Hermione asked eagerly. "Did Professor Dumbledore tell you how you survived the Killing Curse again? What spell did he use?"

Harry hesitated. On the one hand, he had been taught never to disclose information unless necessary, but on the other hand, he had never had anyone act so friendly and open. The way they seemed glad to see him made him want to trust them.

'Stop it!' he ordered himself firmly. 'I am the Dark Lord's heir. They're probably only being nice to me so that they can get something out of me.'

Faking an ignorant and sheepish look, he shrugged and answered, "No, not really. I forgot to ask."

He ignored the voice in the back of his head that whispered 'What about all the times in the past when they helped you out? Why would they want something from you? They don't even know you're not the same person.'

Hermione looked disappointed. "He didn't explain it to you at all? Well, I suppose it was a really complicated and difficult bit of magic. Anyway, are you quite sure you're all right? No side effects at all?"

"Oh, leave him be, Mione," Ron scoffed. "He said he's fine."

"But he always says he's fine! He'd say that if he were dying!"

'You see?' Harry's logical side murmured, as he watched the pair bicker. 'They're harmless. They're innocent, naïve children.'

'Well, they're fools then,' Harry responded mentally. 'They wouldn't last long in a war. Look at them. If the Dark Lord attacked, they'd be dead in no time.' But at the same time, he couldn't help envying their carefree ignorance.

All of a sudden, Harry sensed someone approaching him. He whirled around and barely had time to brace himself before a plump, redheaded woman engulfed him in a hug. "Harry!" she cried. "I was so worried about you!"

For a moment, Harry thought it was his mother. Then, he remembered that in this world, his mother was dead, and realized that this was Mrs. Weasley. 'Why is this woman hugging me?' he wondered in mild disgust. 'A Muggle-lover, if I recall correctly, and the mother of seven children. Doesn't she have enough brats to cuddle?'

"Harry? Harry, dear, are you okay?" Mrs. Weasley inquired anxiously.

'Come on, Potter, pay attention,' Harry chided himself. 'Got to act natural.'

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," he assured her politely. "Really, I'm fine."

"Well, if you're certain…"

Eying her critically, Harry could see that she had been crying. 'What do you know, she really does care about me. What a fool. If the Light side is made up of sentimental idiots, why haven't we beaten them yet?'

Finally, Harry managed to convince Mrs. Weasley that he was perfectly all right, and she left with another hug and a warning to take care of himself. "Whew!" he muttered, sinking into a couch.

"Yeah, Mum's a bit…overemotional," Ron snickered. "Anyway, you up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Ron! Harry has homework to do!" Hermione exclaimed, looking outraged. "McGonagall assigned another essay, remember?"

"Aw, we've got loads of time to do that," Ron protested.

"Loads of time! You're just procrastinators, both of you!" Hermione huffed, before stomping away and sitting down at a table, presumably to write the aforementioned essay.

Ron gave Harry an exasperated look. "Mental, isn't she, mate?"

In spite of himself, Harry grinned a little. 'They are kind of amusing.' Then, his gaze fell on a nearby newspaper, which had a large picture of the Dark Mark floating over some burned houses. 'But enough of that. It is my duty to support the Dark Lord, in this world or any other.'