CHAPTER ONE
Harry knew it was a stupid idea when he started to long for the sensations of portkey travel. Getting sucked into the Exit, he estimated felt like getting kicked in the balls with a seasickness curse. The wind rushing past was making Harry's cheeks flap and he couldn't even get out a proper manly scream of fright.
He grabbed onto his satchel with his right arm, not really trusting his magic to hold on to the bag. The feeling of falling while your body is being stretched from both top and bottom was as nauseating as it was painful. Compounding his discomfort was that the sheer amount of magic around him was blinding. He had his eyes shut tightly but the spell cast on them was forcing him to view all the surrounding magic and in a higher concentration that he'd ever seen before.
Harry idly wondered if he was scorching his optic nerve as he struggled to hold his wand up and cancel the magical sight spell. With a high-pitched grunt-like sound he succeeded.
Harry's glasses had so far managed to stay in place and he blinked his eyes open. He immediately regretted that move as he saw he was falling extremely fast through some sort of tube coated in blood and ectoplasm. The walls were semi-translucent and glancing through the pinkish haze in all directions there were endless arrays of more and more fleshy tubes.
Harry's vision blurred and everything around him seemed to gain a warming purple tinge. Oblivious to his continued descent, he thought back to his more often than not strained relationship with his best friends, Ron and Hermione. He wondered if maybe now Ginny could move on. He thought of the love he held for his parents and then Sirius.
There was a violent jerk to his right and Harry felt his body turn and rotate as gravity was pulling him, this time in a different direction. Thoughts of Sirius reminded Harry that he'd been sucked into the Exit and his vision cleared noticeably. Another jerk sent Harry careening forward, finally managing the elusive high-pitched manly scream that had evaded him earlier.
Harry could feel his stomach churning and really didn't want to know what puking in this ectoplasmic sorting system would do. Just when Harry didn't think he'd be able to make it, he was unceremoniously sent shooting out of the Exit, sliding across the stone floor, and crashing into the bottom set of stairs in the Death Chamber.
The moment Harry lifted his body up he began to retch all over the last step beneath him. He stopped to catch his breath for less than a second before resuming to empty the contents of his stomach. The thick puddle below him was spilling over the edge of the step and onto the floor.
Harry got a few more breaths of air and proceeded to dry heave every last painful drop he could. He wiped his mouth and looked up, only to find three Unspeakables surrounding him with their wands drawn and aimed at him.
Before he could react, two whispered disarming spells hit him, and his wand went flying. His body was forcefully pushed back onto the stairs. He opened his mouth to say something and only managed to belch a thick cloud of whitish smoke and dust.
Harry proceeded to cough and turned away from the welcoming committee. Thinking quickly he exclaimed, "Hang on. Let me drink the counter potion to my nundu's breath before you guys get sick."
Two of the Unspeakables cast immediate bubblehead charms, while the third had impressively managed to conjure or call an entire set of scuba gear complete with a working oxygen tank.
None of them made any move to stop Harry as he pulled a potion vial from his satchel and drank it immediately.
Harry let out a contented sigh as the steam whistled out his ears.
"You lied to us," the first Unspeakable stated. "That was pepper-up."
"True," Harry admitted tossing the empty vial into his bag. "But I didn't think you'd let me take it, if you knew it was pepper-up. Besides I was really exhausted and did you see how much I puked here? That's like what I eat in a week."
Finally after a moment of catching up to his surroundings and thinking clearer thanks to the potion, Harry realized that these Unspeakables didn't recognize him at all. Considering Harry definitely recognized Gruber, it was safe to assume this was an alternate dimension, one of the more intriguing potential destinations theorized for the Exit.
Seeking confirmation, Harry asked Gruber. "Do you have a brother that's also an Unspeakable?"
Gruber looked over towards his colleague and back at Harry. He spoke with a thick Slavic accent and was clearly sore about the issue. "If you must know my sister retired from the Ministry three weeks ago. She wasted her pension on a gender reassignment potion. I knew mother breast fed him too long."
"Wow," Harry uncertainly answered. "Okay."
"You're another dimension traveler, aren't you?" The lead Unspeakable asked.
"Easy guys," Harry tried to calm them with a smile, holding up his hands and acting harmless. "I'm one of you. Hold on, you said another? Did Sirius Black perchance come through here?"
The lead Unspeakable glanced at Gruber and then the woman to his left, all three of them still keeping their wands trained on Harry.
Hoping for a little less hostility, and fearing the idea that criminals sentenced to death may have just popped out into this world to cause problems, Harry explained. "Yeah, I think I am dimension traveler, considering I recognize Gruber there who in my world has a brother that's also an agent. And none of you seem to recognize me. I guess I'm not part of the Department in this world?"
The Unspeakables seemed to relax just slightly after catching each other's posture. "Sirius Black you're after?"
Harry nodded eagerly, jumping at the opening for a little information digging. Thinking of the role he should play, "Escaped convict Black? You betcha."
"We interrogated him," the lead Unspeakable said, standing straighter. "He's innocent of the charges you imprisoned him for."
"I know," Harry agreed, trying to imagine how the average Ministry worker would handle this. "But the law is the law. And he broke out of Azkaban. All breakouts get magically drained solitude or the Kiss."
"Excuse me?"
Harry puffed himself up proudly. "No man is above the law. Not even an innocent one."
The female was clearly confused by Harry's words and inched closer. "Who are you?"
"Come on guys, I'm one of you," Harry said, getting the feeling the walls were closing in on him.
"Your name," the lead Unspeakable ordered while slipping into a defensive stance.
Harry bit his lip for a second, and knew that if word got out he was a dimension traveler, he'd become rather well known, at least in certain circles, much quicker than he'd like. Not to mention the bloody red tape he'd no doubt have to go through. "I think for the sake of both our dimensions-" Harry cut off as he stepped back, twisting his body from three incoming spells. He avoided the stunner and the first body bind, but the second body bind clipped him on the shin.
Harry felt his body stiffen and he struggled to move his arms and legs. He was about to snap the weak spell when the female on his left ran up to him, and slapped a pair of magic inhibiting handcuffs over both of his wrists in a very precise and practiced motion.
Knowing he had an advantage, Harry decided to play along and accept his apparent defeat.
"We are going to interrogate you with Veritaserum," said the lead Unspeakable. "Standard operating procedure, you understand."
Harry raised a curious eyebrow. "You have a standard operating procedure for dimension travelers?"
The lead Unspeakable frowned at Harry and stared silently at him.
Harry made a show of wilting under the powerful stare and jumped at the opportunity. Slowly lifting his head to look the Unspeakable right back in the eye, Harry asked, "Was Sirius Black the last person you interrogated?"
Seizing advantage of the eye contact, Harry slipped into the Unspeakable's consciousness and caught glimpses of the memories flashing by that his words stirred. He saw the paperwork and discovered this was Senior Agent David Downing. The most interesting thing Harry managed to glean was the date of Sirius's arrival was April 5, 2006, or more accurately only two months ago today, the same day of Harry's only success with the Exit.
"Dammit," Downing cursed looking away, pushing Harry out of his mind as quickly as he could. "Keep your shields up and don't look this bugger in the eye."
"Agent Downing, is it?" Harry greeted, enjoying the victorious pain of being discovered and ejected. "Just wanted to keep you on your toes. A little reminder that magic inhibiting cuffs only stop magic from the wrists outward."
Downing sent a stunner at Harry, who dodged the spell. "Hey!" Harry argued. "I'm wearing cuffs. I'm coming peacefully. No need to be rude."
"Gruber, get his bag," Downing instructed while vanishing the puke from the steps. He turned to Harry, almost daring him to try Legilimency again. "And you lead the way towards the interrogation rooms on level eight."
Harry nodded, mentally cataloguing his wand was with Downing and bag was with Gruber. "Of course, Agent Downing," he said with a grin, knowing that just saying the Unspeakable's name riled him.
Harry's wrists were pulled together and bound by the magic of the cuffs. He calmly made his way up the steps, silently thanking the inventor of pepper-up once again.
The Unspeakables carefully followed Harry, all of them with their wands aimed at his back and a spell on the tip of their tongues.
Harry entered the circular spinning room and contemplated trying to escape here. But the spinning room had more identification and detection spells than he could hope to avoid. He turned towards the Unspeakables to get a glance of how they carried themselves and seek out any advantages.
"Face forward," Downing ordered. "Or we may misinterpret your attempts at coming peacefully."
Harry turned back around and doubted he'd be able to wrestle all three of their wands from them simultaneously. Breaking their necks was out of the question but that didn't stop him from once again wishing he were evil, for simplicity's sake. His best option was to use his magical arms to stun them, which would probably sap most of his energy. He quietly led the Unspeakables past the front desk that was being manned by the same witch as Harry had seen this morning.
Harry silently thanked his luck that the lift was empty when the doors opened. The three Unspeakables strategically maneuvered to surround him. Agent Downing pressed the button for level eight, keeping the tip of his wand aimed at Harry's neck.
Harry took a deep breath knowing this was going to be exhausting. The very second the lift doors closed, six invisible magical arms sprung to silent life extended from his body. Three of them snaked their way unnoticed and hovered right behind the base of the Unspeakables' necks, charging with energy. Hoping this would work, Harry willed the three arms simultaneously forward, hitting the Unspeakables with stunning spells.
All four people in the lift collapsed to the floor. The three Unspeakables crumpled because they were knocked unconscious, and Harry fell due to the sudden extreme draw on his magic.
Harry caught his breath, while the three other invisible arms retrieved his wand, grabbed his bag, and used the key to remove the magic inhibiting cuffs. He decided a pair of magic inhibiting cuffs could be pretty useful and stashed them with their key in his satchel. He steadied himself and stood, wavering as his equilibrium shifted. He knew he'd be paying for this later, but he summoned another potion vial and downed a second dose of pepper-up.
Steam shot out, hot and raw, scorching his inner ears. He was going to be down for the count when this wore off, but he needed to get away from here if he was going to keep his secrets intact.
Feeling that third wind kick in, Harry decided on a pair of layered memory charms. Just before he could cast the memory alteration, he heard the lift chime arriving at level eight. He quickly pulled the three unconscious bodies off to the side and hopefully out of view. He needed his luck to hold up as the lift doors opened, desperately hoping no one wanted to get on the lift at this floor.
Harry stuck his head out into level eight and saw a few Aurors looking toward him inquisitively. "This isn't the atrium," Harry announced smacking himself in the forehead as he quickly pushed the button inside the lift. He kept himself positioned in front of the Unspeakables wondering if perhaps this was the longest amount of time a pair of lift doors had ever stayed open.
The Aurors snickered at the loud sound of someone smacking himself in the head but went right back to their own business ignoring the unidentified, seemingly unaccompanied young man lost in the Ministry.
Once he was alone again, Harry focused immediately on a subtle memory alteration that would be hard to identify unless you knew it was there. Leaving the memories of their interaction intact, Harry changed their perception of him into that of a young buxom blonde woman. He shifted their memories of questions about Sirius Black into questions about Lucius Malfoy.
After applying a glamour charm that made him appear to match their altered memories, Harry locked them in body binds and woke the three Unspeakables up. He spoke with a feminine sneer and drawl, "Your bloody shields are keeping my spell out, but I doubt you can resist it when you're staring me in the eye. Obliviate!"
Harry did a simplistic memory modification charm this time, wiping out the last half hour from their minds. While still dazed from the memory charm that he wanted them to find, Harry transfigured the three Unspeakables into three shiny silver coins and canceled his glamour charm. The entire process took less than a minute from conceptualization to execution.
When the doors reopened at the atrium, Harry calmly exited carrying his satchel under his arm. As he walked past the fountain, he tossed the three coins into the water. The human to inanimate transfiguration was set to be released in exactly fifteen minutes, well after he was long gone.
Harry strolled out of the Ministry of Magic satisfied he'd made his escape and about as covered as he was going to get without doubling back to the Department of Mysteries. Looking up into the early afternoon London sun, he saw a world of answers to his questions about Sirius and the Exit all around him. He just had to find them.
All signs indicated Harry was in an alternate dimension, existing fully independent of his world. Since he hadn't been recognized, it was safe to assume the Harry Potter of this world was either dead or not quite as famous.
He had his wand and his satchel, with his research notes on the Exit and a few emergency potions. He had roughly fifty galleons in a small pouch, about ninety pounds in his wallet, and an absolute certainty that trying to use his credit cards would be a bad idea.
Harry walked to a nearby muggle café, ordered a meal to help fill his empty stomach, and took a moment to think things over. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to go back through the Veil and he wasn't about to try until he had more answers. He was tired enough that he wouldn't even entertain the possibility without more rest.
He could go to Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure whether Dumbledore or McGonagall might still be alive in this world. Harry realized that Voldemort could be alive in this world as well, in which case Hogwarts could have been razed to the ground or taken over. By the same measure Hogwarts could be a fashion institute and the Harry Potter of this world could be the androgynous one snootily using a fake French accent at the door.
With no idea about anything in this world, Harry focused on the best solution to most of his problems: finding Sirius.
Harry considered hitting Diagon Alley and staying at the Leaky Cauldron, but when he stood up after his meal he realized just how tired he was quickly getting. He decided to head to the one place that would feel most like home.
Harry walked out of sight and apparated to a back yard he was intimately familiar with. There was trash rotting and a completely unkempt growth crawling up the side of the building. He smiled to see there wasn't a Fidelius Charm as he gazed up the back side of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
The back door was stuck shut, but an alohomora and a running start fixed that problem.
Harry crashed into the pantry, just off the side of the kitchen and fell to the floor skidding through a thick layer of dust. Cobwebs that would fit Acromantulas were littered all over the place. Sheets covered furniture and a strong, stale musty smell permeated the manor.
There was no sign of Sirius here, nor was there any sign anyone had been here in decades.
Harry stood back up and felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. It appeared like his body was going to take its nap here whether he liked it or not.
Stumbling into the living room Harry scourgified the immediate area and pulled a sheet off of the large couch. He quickly put up a few rudimentary protection wards and collapsed onto the couch. He grabbed onto the magically cleaned sheet and pulled it over himself while already in the process of snoring.
Sixteen hours later, Harry yawned and felt a weight on his chest as he exhaled. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into a pair of impossibly wide bright eyes staring right back at him.
"Is it true?" the squeaky voice inquired hopefully. "New Master has returned?"
Harry shrieked as he realized a wrinkly old house elf had mounted him in his sleep. He swung his arm wildly and swatted the elf across the room into the wall. A loud crunch and clatter as the elf landed stirred a small cloud of dust into the air.
"It's true!" The elf cheered wickedly. "Master has punished! Oh Master!"
Harry wiped the eye boogers from his face and took a better look at the wrinkled little urchin. "Kreacher?"
"Master knows Kreacher?" Kreacher cheered before smacking himself in the head. "Stupid Kreacher! Of course Master knows Kreacher!"
Harry wiped his eyes once more, to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him.
Kreacher ran up to Harry and hugged his leg. "Kreacher's been bad! Punish Kreacher, Master! Then Kreacher will start cleaning this place up."
"You want to be punished?" Harry inquired having always suspected most elves were masochists.
"Kreacher deserves it!" the elf gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Kreacher will sharpen all the blood traitor torturing tools!"
"Wait, Kreacher!"
"Yes, Master?" Kreacher said sticking his rear end out waiting to be punished.
Harry just looked at the old elf that was practically begging to be spanked and completely forgot what he was going to say.
"Would you like me to go steal one of the neighborhood muggles for you, Master?"
"No," Harry answered immediately. "I just… you know what. Forget it. It doesn't matter. Do whatever you want."
"Kreacher will start cleaning the blades, chains, and tenderizing mallets! Oh it will be ever so much fun, Master!"
Harry watched the disturbed house elf scurry away. Considering the first Kreacher Harry met had chosen death over serving blood traitors, Harry was once again reminded that this was a completely different dimension with a different history.
There was a loud screech of metal dragging across metal from upstairs. Harry decided to go get some breakfast and begin the search for his godfather. He would put off to later the decision of ever returning to Grimmauld Place again.
Harry located his satchel, cast a cleaning charm over his robes, and focused on Diagon Alley. With a soft pop he apparated away, reappearing in the magical alley.
With practiced ease, Harry took stock of his surroundings, seeing no immediate threats. There were a few people walking around, but not an exorbitant amount. There wasn't a strong sense of impending doom, but this wasn't the carefree relaxation that Wizarding Britain had become after the destruction of his world's Voldemort. Those people had been too relaxed and complacent. The people Harry saw here were cautious and aware, many of them sneaking glances at him before moving along to continue their business.
Unsure what to make of this, Harry ventured towards the center of the Alley, and spotted a diner with patio seating. It looked pretty busy which was what Harry was looking for. He bought a copy of the Daily Prophet at the front counter and was seated outdoors, with his back to a wall, so he could watch the people in the alley while listening in to others' conversations.
He ordered a simple breakfast platter, and was keeping his eyes and ears open. Sipping on his juice, Harry opened the Daily Prophet and saw the front page. June 6, 2006 was the date indicating he hadn't moved temporally at all through the Exit. The entire front page was devoted to England's chances in the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. There were articles on the team, the event, the competition, but not a single mention of Death Eaters or Voldemort. Harry took this as a good sign.
He watched a familiar brown-haired woman walk into the apothecary across the street unable to connect a name to her face, but pretty sure she had been a year behind him and a Hufflepuff. He continued eating and flipping through the paper when a small article caught his eye and Harry began to choke. Apparently Death Eater attacks didn't warrant the front page. Or any of the first six pages for that matter.
"Careful there, buddy," a man who had been seated next to him said. He began to pat Harry on the back to keep him from choking.
"Thanks," Harry said getting a hold of himself. One or two sudden realizations were understandable, but to find out Death Eater attacks didn't warrant the front page, to find out that Voldemort was still around, that the muggles in the article were Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and that the Assistant Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, James Potter, had intervened caused Harry to gasp in the middle of swallowing. "Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe."
"Breakfast can be a tricky mistress," the man said with a smile.
Harry recognized the man seated next to him despite not having seen him in over a decade. "It's the forks that trip me up. I keep grabbing the wrong end."
"As long as you remember which hole in your face to put the food, you should be okay," the man nodded extending his hand in greeting. "Florean Fortescue."
Harry shook his hand. "I'm Harry."
"Aren't we all?" Florean retorted before glancing at Harry's table. "You want some company?"
"Sure," Harry said eager to get a few answers from someone he relatively trusted and was obviously willing to talk. He moved his newspaper out of the way while Florean brought his plate over with him.
"So what did you read that caused you to inhale your scrambled eggs?" Florean asked as he took advantage of the better jams on Harry's table. He looked up and saw Harry staring at him curiously. "I happened to be looking over when your eyes went wide and you began to choke."
Harry nodded, though erring on the side of caution. "I was surprised to read about a Death Eater attack to be honest."
"Really?" Florean asked curiously. "What was so surprising about that?"
"Well, I know I've got the accent nailed," Harry grinned. "But I'm not actually from around here. And considering I remembered something about an attack many years ago, I was surprised they were still going on."
Florean shook his head. "They're sporadic, but they've been around for what feels like as long as I can remember. It's been years since my shop had any spell damage I needed repaired, but the threat is always there."
"You don't seem to let it get you down," Harry commented.
"I sell ice cream," Florean grinned. "All I deal in are smiles."
"Never had the taint of the war darken your doorstep?"
"War?" Florean asked curiously in between bites of breakfast. "What war? The Death Eaters and the Dark Lord are terrorists, thugs, at best. A couple of my neighbors were killed in an attack. It wasn't some glorious battle nor was their home part of some strategic plan. It was just an attack. Too many good people have been caught in attacks, but to call what those terrorists do a war gives them a respect they've not earned."
Harry nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. About your neighbors I mean. It's probably the fact that it's not descended into all out war that's kept the whole thing going for so long."
Florean was wiping his mouth having finished his meal. "You certainly have interesting ideas about pleasant breakfast conversation."
"My apologies," Harry nodded. "You asked what startled me in the paper and my mind likes to go off on tangents."
"No apology needed," Florean waved him off. "I wasn't bothered in the slightest. But I should get back and prep my store for opening. It's been a pleasure, Harry."
"One last question," Harry interjected. "If you don't mind humoring me, but have you by chance seen Sirius Black?"
"The new one?"
Harry tried to mask his surprise. "There's more than one?"
"Sirius Black was a young man murdered twenty-five years ago," Florean explained swinging his cloak over his shoulders. "But another man with that name came into my shop just about a week ago with his cousin, Auror Tonks-Lupin."
"Thank you," Harry smiled. "Good luck on dealing with only smiles today."
Florean looked at the sky and saw the sun was shining brightly. "It's going to be a hot one. I doubt I'll need luck to have a very busy and profitable day."
Harry watched the pleasant man walk briskly down the alley towards the ice cream parlor and thought about his first solid lead. It appeared that as much as things change, some things, like Tonks and Moony, stay the same no matter what dimension you land in.
Harry left a galleon and seven sickles to cover his breakfast and tip. He had to be careful with his money as he didn't have much with him.
All the good wizarding records for locating someone often required identification and were handled at the Ministry, which was not a place Harry wanted to go if he didn't have to. Thus he began walking towards the Leaky Cauldron intent on venturing out into non-magical London.
"G'morning, Tom," Harry greeted as he walked into the Leaky Cauldron.
"Morning," Tom nodded looking at Harry curiously unable to recognize him. "Anything I can do for you, Mr.…?"
"Harry's fine," Harry said extending his hand to shake. "And I was hoping you might have a phone book and a phone I could use?"
"If you want a room, local calls are included but otherwise, the pay phone right out front has a book," Tom said pointing towards the street. "I check every morning to make sure no one's run off with it."
"Thanks," Harry nodded and walked out into the muggle side of London. He picked up the phone book and quickly flipped to the L section. Just as he'd hoped Lupin, Remus was listed but not at any address Harry remembered. He picked up the phone and dialed the number letting it ring for twenty seconds before admitting defeat that no one was answering.
He walked back into the Leaky Cauldron. "I don't suppose you know where Old Ford Road is?"
"Runs through Bethnal Green as I recall," Tom answered.
"There an apparition point there?" Harry asked.
Tom nodded. "Sure. Probably will drop ya at the tube station, but it'll get you close."
"Thanks," Harry nodded and walked out. He made sure he was clear of any wards on the Leaky Cauldron and out of view from any muggles. Focusing on Bethnal Green, Harry apparated away. He got directions from a young woman in the tube station and found himself walking down the road listed as Remus' address.
Harry couldn't remember the numbers other than a three and a seven were involved so he cast the spell that would allow him to see magic. He began walking down the road, directly across from a nicely wooded park when he noticed a cellar glowing with magic.
Harry was going to investigate and see if this was the place when he spotted a large black dog, sunning itself in the park across the street. His face split into a bright grin as he walked up to the extremely familiar mutt that was obliviously licking himself in a potentially embarrassing fashion.
"You know I think it's as clean as it's going to get," Harry stated having successfully snuck up on the dog.
The grim-looking canine stopped immediately, lifted his head, and slowly turned towards the vaguely recognizable voice with an expression as close to surprise as a dog could possibly have.
"Crikey, Padfoot!" Harry yelped throwing an arm up to cover his eyes. "Put that lipstick away."
