Harry was in denial. This was clearly all just a dream, brought on by trying Ginny's attempt at cooking dinner last night. He was definitely lying in a bed at St. Mungo's; unconscious due to food poisoning and surrounded by rabid fans and well-wishers while his dearest friends were forced to fight their way through crowds of blood sucking parasites. He had most definitely not gone to work that morning attempting to sort through the home of one of the incarcerated death eaters. The ministry was clearly not being foolish enough to assign it to a rookie auror instead of a seasoned curse breaker. (Never mind the fact that the rookie in question was Harry Potter and the ministry was in fact, still quite incompetent.).
As such he had NOT accidently fallen head first into some sort of mirror when his idiot partner Morris "accidently" shot off a weak stunner when he had been startled by a doxie. Oh yes this was all an illusion concocted by his mind to escape the pain of having his stomach magically cleansed by overprotective healers who, despite their remarkable ability to regrow bones, still had trouble keeping the riff-raff out of his hospital room. No matter how cold the water felt, and no matter how real those birds sounded Harry Potter was absolutely certain that was most definitely not lying on wet sand as the ocean tide crashed around him.
This certainty lasted Harry another three minutes before a small foot crash landed on top of his face causing a small body to slip and crash land a few feet away from where he was lying. As Harry held his now bleeding nose he was forced to come to terms with the fact that yes he did fall through a mirror and land in an ocean; and that yes a small boy was talking to him.
"Hey! What are you doing laying on the ground you tripped me! And who are you anyways I've never seen you before and I know everyone in Trampoli."
It took Harry a moment to realize that yes the boy's ears were pointed and no, he wasn't imagining it. While the child was fuming, Harry decided to take stock of his current situation. Here he was in an unknown location with very little in the way of galleons( His current money pouch held 32g 11s and 8k, his spending money for the week) and no idea where he was. At least his wand was still in its holster and if the kid's obvious magical blood was any indication he was still in some part of the Wizarding world. It should be easy enough to get home even if he had never heard of Trampoli before.
"I'm sorry where did you say this was?" If it was still within the UK he should be able to just summon the knight bus.
"What are you deaf? I said it was Trampoli." Apparently the child wasn't going to forgive him for his tumble even if Harry was the one sporting a bloody nose from that encounter.
"Yes, but where exactly is Trampoli? Which country is it in; is it anywhere near England?"
"What's England? Trampoli is part of the Kingdom of Norad."
Suddenly Harry didn't have such a positive opinion on how easy it would be to get home.
AN: This is my first lengthy story and i'm not very good at writing dialogue so please don't review just to tell me it sucks unless you have genuine advice on how to improve it. At least the plot should be fairly original.
