Author's note or something like that:

So this is a fanfiction I made as a present to my friend. She hates a certain theory about Harry Potter so I made a story about it and gave it to her. Aren't I just a great friend? You can probably guess which theory it is by the end of the story, but I won't spoil anything because I'm nice.

This is my first fanfiction so ... be kind? I'm sorry if the grammar is abseloutly terrible, but that's life I guess.

And I don't own Harry Potter if you couldn't tell.

Anyway enjoy the story.

He heard something. A voice. Where did it come from? The voice was shouting. Shouting some unrecognisable words. Then all was quiet again. Harry felt himself wake up from a sleep that felt like an eternity. The room was dark. He tried to find the light switch to his bedroom, but nothing was there except a cold, hard wall. Why was the wall cold? Had the electricity been cut?

'Are you awake?' Harry asked his wife.

No one answered or even moved. Come to think of it, his bed was quite small. Too small for another person to lie next to him.

'What…'

The boy (or rather man now) who lived tried to find his glasses on the bedtable that should be next to him, but the freezing floor was there instead. This felt so similar. Almost like a life he had lived before it all began. Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. Had he been captured by someone? But why would they place him in a bed. Then he heard the shouting again, and he definitely recalled that voice.

'Harry! I won't say it another time! Come out here and help me with the breakfast!'

Petunia's voice. What had happened? Why was he here and not in his house with his family? With Ginny?

'Come on Harry! I want to try my new fighting technique on you!'

Dudley's voice. What was really puzzling now was why he sounded like a child. And why he talked to Harry like that. Then something went up for Harry. He wasn't a grown man anymore, but a mere boy like Dudley. What was going on? Had time been reversed? He quickly found the light switch. It was easier now that he knew where he was. Under the stairs in the cupboard. Harry took his glasses on and saw that the cupboard was just like he remembered it. Small, dusty and spiderwebs in every corner. He got to his feet and placed the overly big shirt he had gotten from Dudley's old clothes on himself.

Harry came into the kitchen and saw that everything was normal. Vernon read the newspaper. Dudley sat at the dinner table, ready to stuff his pig like face with food. And Petunia was finishing the breakfast. When she saw Harry standing there dumbfounded, she quickly began to yell at him to start placing the plates on the table. Harry did as she said. To bewildered to do anything else. As everything acted out so normal a twinge of fear ran through him.

The Dursleys had their plates full of food as usual, making Harry's mouth water from the delicious smell. The only thing on his plate was a thin slice of a day-old bread. He quickly left the thought of food, and instead began to think of what was happening. How old was he actually? Not eleven or else they wouldn't be home at all. Then it came to him. Why not just ask them? His aunt and uncle already know about the wizarding world. At least he hoped so.

Harry cleared his throat. 'What is happening?'

As his question poured out from his mouth he began to regret.

'What?' asked Vernon in a dangerously low voice.

'Er … I mean what shall we do the next days?' Harry quickly asked. It was a fair question. The Dursleys never shared anything with him anyway so this could be taken as a hopeful question from their point of view.

'What a dumb question!' Petunia hissed. 'We are going to celebrate my sweet Diddy's elevenths birthday in three days!' she said delightfully.

Eleventh birthday. That's when Harry talked to the snake in the zoo. He knew he would be there! He could have some proof that he really was a wizard! If he could be sure of that, he could explain everything to his aunt and uncle, and fix everything with Dumbledore when the school year started. He could come back to his real life. Or the life he wanted.

Three days passed. Harry acted like nothing odd had happened to him. He would soon enough find a way out of this. Finally, at the zoo he ran to the cage with the snake.

'It's me! I know it sound absurd, but we have met before and I let you out!'

The snake gazed lazily at him before turning away. Like it wouldn't listen. Or couldn't understand him. Horror shot through Harry.

'What are you doing?' asked Dudley.

'We have met before.' he mimicked in a mocking tone. 'How crazy are you? You've never been in the zoo before!'

Harry was barely breathing. What was happening?

Days went by. Harry thought back to the zoo. He had kept talking to the snake. Hoping it would understand him, but it never did. He shuddered. What was happening? That question couldn't escape his mind. No owls had flown past. No letters from Hogwarts. When his eleventh birthday finally arrived, no one came to congratulate him. To tell him that he should go to Diagon Alley and get the necessary supplies for Hogwarts. Nothing that could prove he was a wizard.

1 September arrived and still nothing from the wizarding world. The school would start in a few days. An ordinary school Harry would attend. As time went on from that day in the zoo, it had become clearer and clearer to Harry that perhaps it wasn't real. Hogwarts, Dumbledore, his friends, his family with Ginny never happened. When that thought became clear his heart had broken. He wasn't special. He didn't have an escape from the miserable life he lived now. He was just a normal boy. He would be nothing more.

But as more time passed, he had begun to accept the reality. He began to understand why he had experienced the other world. Why he had people there who loved him, protected him and were his friends. Because it should be a lesson to him now in the real world. He didn't have a good life now, but when he gets older, he will find hope, friends, people who care about him. Maybe even love. People that can create and complete his world. Harry should have hope. Hope for a better future. That meant the life he had lived in the other world was truly a life worth remembering.