Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Summary: When Harry Potter's world goes to pot, he goes to the market for a new one.

Prologue

***

"Harry Potter, do you swear your loyalty to the new Minister of Magic, Kinsley Shacklebolt?"

Harry replied with a brisk nod and a quick glance at said Minister.

"Very well, here are your Auror robes and your name tag which must be visibly on you at all times. Ministry precaution, you understand." Again, he nodded.

"I thought I had to take mandatory training, Auror-" Here Harry paused and looked at the man's name tag "-Tate?"

It was the first time Harry had spoken during the proceedings and Tate shivered at the calm, emotionless voice. He looked at the man before him, and saw the dead, dark green eyes and wondered just what - beside what the public knew - had happened to Harry Potter?

"Auror Tate?" Harry asked again in the same emotionless voice.

"Uh, yes. Well the Ministry decided that you don't need any extra training." Harry said nothing, but moved his dead gaze past him. Tate wasn't even sure the boy had heard him.

"I asked for it." Harry said and sighed, and even that was void of emotion. He nodded - he seemed to be doing that quite a bit lately - and took the robes and name tag. With one last glance a Kinsley, he walked out the door.

***

It had been a week since he had defeated Voldemort - sent that green beam of light at his worst enemy. A week and three hours.

And it had been a week and two hours ago when Bellatrix had suffered the same fate. He had finally avenged Sirius and for what? It was just like it had been for months - he had felt nothing.

For the past year, he had lost parts of himself. Slowly at first, but then it came faster.

He had seen Tonks blasted into pieces in front of his very eyes. That, he decided, and Sirius' death, had been the beginning. The final straw, though, was when the Weasleys and Hermione were locked inside the Burrow. That wouldn't have been so bad, except then, the Death Eaters burned it to the ground.

With his family inside.

Something broke within him that day. He decided to fight fire with fire and killed any and all Death Eaters he could get his hands on. And then he killed their leader.

But what had all that mattered? Now, he was the most famous person in the Wizarding world, but he was also the most alone.

Steadily, Harry walked inside a lift and carefully ignored the stares, shallow breathing, smiles, and hands waiting for him to shake. He looked pointedly ahead and counted the seconds until he was on the ninth floor.

He almost ran out of the lift.

Harry looked at the door that read "Department of Mysteries" for a moment and then walked through.

He waited patiently as he opened a door, found that it wasn't the one he was looking for, closed it, and watched the walls spin again.

Minutes later, he was finally where he wanted to be, staring at that blasted curtain. He could hear the whispers and nearly jumped when an actual voice spoke up, "Contrary to belief, the people who fall through don't die. Of course, as an Unspeakable, I shouldn't be telling you this, but you look interested. Do you believe in alternate universes?"

Harry, with his back to the woman speaking, nodded, curious to see where she was going with this.

"We have discovered that they go somewhere else, to another world, I guess. They shouldn't call it the Veil of Death, but the Veil of Transportation." She chuckled, clearly thinking that was a very cleaver thing to say. She didn't notice Harry stiffen.

"Could you find someone who has fallen through?" He asked, holding his breath and thinking of Sirius.

"Well, I'm sure you could, but there are so many different worlds that you could end up in - no one's been stupid enough to try it."

"But if you didn't land in the right one, you could - theoretically, of course - just walk back through and try again?"

"I suppose…" The young witch said, sounding uncertain, but Harry didn't care. His mind was racing with the possibilities. "Like I said, no one's been dumb enough to try it."

Harry didn't move, he was barely breathing, he had nothing to loose.

"It's not smart," The woman suddenly rushed, feeling that this conversation wasn't going in the direction it was supposed to, "You could end up in a world where nuclear bombs - do you know what that is - destroyed most of the human life. Or in a world where there aren't any wizards, only muggles. It's not smart." She repeated, her words coming out like a child's and desperation in her voice.

Desperation was something Harry could relate to. It was the first emotion he had felt in a long time and reared its ugly head, filling Harry with the desire to do something.

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry was once again brought back to earth and he listened to her closely for any more information she could give him. "My name's Tina and yours?"

For once, for the first time in quite a while, Harry took her offered hand, turned to her, smiled, and said, "Harry Potter."

He barely heard her gasp as he stuck his wand in his holster, dropped his auror robes, and walked purposefully through the veil.

It was much like floo travel, he decided, watching the swirls of places pass by him. He ignored the cold feeling spreading through out his limbs and instead thought about Sirius, smiling at the idea of finding him.

He landed with an "Oomph." and quickly took out his wand, holding it in front of him while eyeing his surroundings.

"Bugger." He exclaimed when he realized he was surrounded by men in blue robes, all pointing their wands at him and looking rather vicious.

"He just fell out of the veil, you say?" Asked a blurring blob of a man with wild, black hair. Harry frowned, realizing his glasses weren't perched on his face, and moved his free hand around, searching for them.

"Here," One of the blue robbed men said as he placed the desired object in Harry's hand.

"Thanks." He said as he slipped his glasses on, looked at the man who had spoken first, and fought the urge to throw up.

For there, standing in front of him was a very much alive James Potter and a very happy looking Sirius.

And that wasn't even the shocking thing. One would expect a Sirius who had continued living with an alive James Potter would look happy, young, and like the handsome fellow Harry saw in his parent's wedding pictures.

But this Sirius was gaunt looking, even though he had a mischievous sparkle in his eye and a smile on his wasted face.

"Harry?" Sirius whispered, as if saying it louder would shatter this too-good-to-be-real dream.

Harry, feeling completely safe - even with all the wands they had pointed at him - smiled.

He had found his Godfather.

Then the reality of the situation hit him and he suddenly buried his face in his hands and wept.

***

Just something I was thinking about, wrote it down, and put it out for all you fine folks to examine.