Disclaimer: I'm afraid that my limited brain capacity would never allow me to produce such a wonderful concept as Harry Potter, nor would my finances allow me to buy him. Therefore, I regretfully state that I own neither Harry Potter, nor any other characters that you may recognize. I'm not even sure if I own the plot.
Note: I'm assuming that you already know the basic story of Harry Potter from books 1 through 5.
'Italics' stand for thoughts/letters or text
Chapter Thirteen: To Open a Gateway
Day Four, Afternoon:
"Professor Dumbledore?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Um, I had some questions I wanted to ask you," Harry explained awkwardly. "About this world, and what happened, and how I'm going home. Do you have some time to spare?"
"Certainly," the elderly wizard said, smiling as he watched the teen shuffle into the room. "Sit down, Harry. There's no need to be so nervous. Don't forget; you do have a reputation to keep up. It wouldn't do for the wizarding world to see Voldemort's most dangerous follower getting embarrassed, now would it?" Amused in spite of himself, Harry relaxed and sank into the couch in the living room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Excellent. Now, what did you want to ask me?"
"Well, first of all, there's something I should show you." Standing up, Harry transformed into his Animagus form, startling Dumbledore slightly, and back again. "You see, I can change into a phoenix."
"That is certainly unusual. There are very few magical Animagi. Tell me, can you imitate a phoenix's magical properties as well?"
"Er, I'm not sure; that's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. You see, I dueled Voldemort at Azkaban, and he happened to mention that I couldn't use any of the magical abilities of my Animagus form. I checked my, um, memories, and I know he was telling the truth, but the thing is, I can travel by phoenix flight. Isn't that a magical talent?"
Dumbledore considered the question thoughtfully. "Hmm, yes, I would say phoenix flight is definitely a magical talent. Do you think you could transform for me and cry some tears so I can see if they have healing properties?"
"I guess I could try," Harry agreed doubtfully. He shifted forms and tried to think of the saddest moments of his life. It wasn't as hard as he had expected considering the kind of life he had had so far, and before long, a few thick pearly tears rolled down his plumage. Once Dumbledore had captured them in a vial, Harry returned to his human form and waited expectantly. "So?"
Using a minor cutting hex to create a shallow gash on his arm, the headmaster tipped the tears onto the wound and watch it heal. "Ah, well, that seems to settle the question. Congratulations, Harry, you can now heal yourself with your own tears."
"But…how?"
"I cannot give you a definite answer, but I would venture to guess that your magical abilities can only be used when you are working for the Light side. After all, phoenixes are Light creatures."
"I guess that makes sense," Harry concluded. "Does that mean that when the other 'me' comes back, he won't be able to do this?"
"I suppose not. Was that all, or did you want to ask me something else?"
"I also wanted to ask you how I got here. The last thing I remember is being hit with the Killing Curse. You, or at least, you from my world, sent a spell at me and they both struck at the same time. Then I woke up here. What happened?"
"That's rather hard to say, Harry," Dumbledore pointed out. "I have no idea what spell my counterpart used; you'll have to ask him when you get back."
"If I wanted to come back here, could I? Using the spell that you're going to use?"
"That is doubtful, Harry," Dumbledore informed him. "There is little chance of you actually landing in this particular dimension."
"But then how do you know I'll go back to the right universe?" Harry exclaimed, worried.
"Oh, you will naturally be drawn back to your home world," Dumbledore reassured him. "But going from your home world to another dimension would be a risky business."
"Isn't there some way I could communicate with this world?"
"I'm afraid not."
After a moment, Harry changed the subject. "So tell me about this dimension. Do you know Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger?"
"Yes; Mr. Weasley is Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, and Ms. Granger is the smartest witch in the whole school. I presume they were friends of yours?"
"Yup. What about Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom?"
"Mr. Longbottom is a fine wizard, well on his way to becoming an Auror like his parents. Ms. Weasley and Ms. Lovegood are excellent witches, though Ms. Lovegood is rumored to be somewhat…odd."
"Yeah, that sounds like Luna. Is Professor Snape still teaching?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. Did you know that your mother is teaching Charms?"
"Really? I heard she was good at it, but I didn't know she was that good."
"Oh yes, she certainly is. Your father is a well-known Auror, too, the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, and considered to be the best in England."
"Wow." Eyes shining, Harry leaned forward a little. "Can you tell me more about my parents…"
…………
Day Five, Afternoon:
"Ready, Harry? It's almost time."
Harry nodded at Dumbledore reluctantly. He gave his parents one last hug, said his goodbyes to Remus, Sirius, and Mari, and moved to stand in the center of the pentagon chalked onto the backyard of Godric's Hollow. The headmaster waved his wand and began the ritual.
First, Dumbledore cast a spell that separated Harry's soul from his body for a brief period of time. Then, he muttered a long incantation to open a portal. At exactly noon, Harry — or rather, his spirit — floated towards the magical gateway. Pausing briefly to take one last look at his family and friends, he waved to them before allowing the vortex to pull him in.
For what seemed like hours, a swirling luminescent cloud carried him through a dark tunnel. Finally, just as Harry was beginning to feel slightly nauseous, he felt himself falling, falling, falling…
With a gasp, Harry opened his eyes to find himself kneeling on a stone floor. Confused, he glanced up and froze. Around three dozen Death Eaters surrounded him, but that was not the main problem.
Directly in front of him was a large throne, and seated on that throne was the last person he wanted to see at the moment. Voldemort.
