There's a whole other world out there, unknown to muggles and magicals alike. Only the most powerful wizards go there once they've died, but as Harry Potter finds out, you don't need to be dead to get there. So continues his fight against evil...

I own no rights to Harry Potter.

Why, the bespectacled man mentally chided himself. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut sometimes?

Stuffing his cold hands into the pockets of his well worn jeans, the continued down the sidewalk, making his way from his and Ginny's flat.

'Did you get the milk?' the redhead had asked, Teddy loudly crashing cars together as he sat on the floor in the den.

'I didn't know I was supposed to,' Harry replied after a moment of hesitation. With a huff, and a roll of her eyes, Ginny turned back to the pot of food that was stirring itself. Though most nights it was Harry acting the house-wife, at least once every few weeks Ginny would decide to give him a break.

'Seriously? I thought we agreed this morning?'

'I don't remember that.'

'I said that we needed milk while you were getting ready.'

'Okay?'

'Yeah, and you said okay. You were supposed to have gotten some.'

'I still don't remember saying that.'

'You said okay!'

'Okay?'

Which had apparently been the wrong thing to say. With a screech, and the wave of her wand, Ginny banished him from the house until he brought her some milk.

His shoulder's hunched forward at the biting chill of late autumn. Or should he call it early winter at this point? Did it even matter?

He passed a dark alleyway before he paused, head cocked. Was that a moan?

Harry shot a brief glance around his surroundings. The town's marketplace was just ahead, he hoped desperately that they were still open, otherwise he'd be forced to apparate to the grocer's that was a town over - not that it'd be a hindrance or particularly stressful, but he'd just finished at 12 hour shift, thank you much. He stilled his breathing. There was the sound again!

"Er, are you okay in there?" he called tentatively, cursing his conscious not for the first time. After another moment of silence, he flicked his wrist, holding the want so that just the tip was poking from his jacket's sleeve. Unless looking too closely, muggles would just most likely take it as a flashlight, and for those that tried to get a closer look, well, he'd just have to dip into his rather impressive repertoire of memory charms.

With a silent lumos, the wand tip lit up brilliantly. Harry waived his hand in front of him, revealing the empty alleyway.

But then where?

With one step he was shrouded by the darkness of the looming buildings on either side of him. He paused just a second longer before continuing in. One corner, then another. He was let out into an unpaved, dead street. Small, separate houses clustered around either side of it, broken only by a large park, located across the street from him.

He had been there several times before when taking Teddy out - it had a small playground and many walking trails which all seemed to lead to a little duck pond in the center of the entire park.

Cocking his head to the side once more, Harry listened.

A moan from behind.

He spun, wand at the ready in front of him.

Nothing.

He suppressed the urge to shudder, hairs on the back of his neck and arms on end.

"You're losing it mate," he muttered to himself. Nevertheless his wand did not leave his hand as he reentered the alleyway. He paused at the end, turning to look to his right - he could have sworn that that had just been a dead end. Bringing his wand closer, Harry studied what seemed to be a veil, as anything beyond it was indiscernible.

But to where?

Looking around, finding himself still alone, he turned back, gingerly poking the entryway with his wand. After all, as an Auror, he was just as responsible for keeping the magical world secret as he was for protecting it, and he'd trade his right arm if there wasn't something magical about this.

What previously looked to be some kind of solid wasn't anything at all, as his wand met no resistance. Soon his entire arm was in the entryway. Harry withdrew his hand. An illusion then. He cast a complicated, though passive shield that would protect him from any sort of physical damage, though it wouldn't hold up for more than a few seconds of onslaught.

Wand firmly in hand and precautions for whatever could be waiting for him set, Harry Potter stepped confidently over the threshold. Behind him the alleyway melted away, as his world turned upside down and sideways before returning to right-side up.

He was wet, he realized, standing in a pool of water that he had apparently risen out of. Looking around in bafflement, he tried to assess his surroundings.

It seemed to be a small, inside courtyard garden, walled in on all four sides with a set of double doors directly opposite of him. The pool of water that he was in was located in a rather shallow basin of marble, a matching pathway leading right to the doors. On either side of the bath were light-colored, granite benches, and behind them foliage. Vines crept up the walls, lilac trees, rose bushes, and a variety of other flowers decorated the room, giving off a sweet, floral aroma. He looked up. Water poured from mid-air, creating a fall that never seemed to flood the pool.

A spell he decided, one that cycled the water already in the pool up and back down. A bright colored butterfly fluttered past, settling on one of the bushes, basking in a ray of sunlight.

Sunlight.

Harry looked up to the warm, pulsating midday sun. Birds chirped, bees buzzed, and the flowers bloomed. Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore, he thought, remembering a line from one of very few movies he'd seen during his childhood. It had been back in primary, right before the Christmas break, because of course the Dursley's had never let him watch anything inside the house.

He took a step from the pool, almost feeling bad at the water that dripped and pooled generously onto the previously immaculate floor. He turned to look at the pool. The surface shimmered from a combination of the waterfall and sun. Or did it?

He got closer, kneeling before reaching down with caution, shield still in place until activated by danger. Though he could have sworn where he had previously been standing was hard stone, he felt more of a glossy, squishy texture, at the bottom of the water pool.

"Ah, there you are, my boy."

Harry spun around at the voice, falling backwards into the water with a gasp.

"Good to see that the years haven't changed you, child. It has been too long."

Gaping, Harry looked into a very familiar pair of blue eyes that he hadn't seen in nearly five years.

"H-headmaster?"

"Oh my boy, I'm no longer a headmaster anywhere. Albus is fine."

Still in shock, Harry blinked. And then again. Albus Dumbledore looked younger than Harry had ever remember seeing him - to include the brief time in Riddle's Diary. His face was smooth, auburn beard short and neatly trimmed, his wavy hair was well kept and brushed out of his face.

"H-headmaster?"

"You don't look very well Mr. Potter, are you feeling alright?"

Harry's vision swam, the question echoing in his head before he knew no more.