Harry Planeswalker
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Summary: Unknown to most of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter vanished when he was seven years old. And yet, Harry Potter finds himself on the train for his first year of Hogwarts, leaving many people in the know wondering just where he has been. Harry, meanwhile, just finds these wizards of this rustic world mildly amusing as he decides this might be a nice place to relax for a bit.
Harry Potter swore like no eleven-year-old should as he appeared in an unknown room, landing head over ass. "Bloody buggering hells, that hurt. Not heading back there anytime soon," he grumbled as he stood up and scowled as looked around. "Where am I? This isn't Canglen" he murmured as he looked outside the window, watching the hills go by. "Well, on a train, and with no ticket. Damnit, why didn't I take the Lore bonus with the Agency?" he grumbled as he moved away from the window and head to the door, cracking it open to take a quick glance out. He spied several passengers, all children in the preteen to teen range...with rather unflattering outfits.
He quirked a brow and he looked down at himself: Green hoodie, long silk pants, metal bracers over his hands, and a decorative pauldron on his right shoulder. "Yeah, going to stand out a bit," he realized with a reluctant sigh as his outfit rippled and formed into the black robs everyone else seemed to be wearing. He smiled in satisfaction before blinking as he brought his hands up to remove the blue tricorn hat from his head. "How long have I been wearing this?" he asked himself in bewilderment before shrugging. He threw it like a disk toward the window, a sparking hole briefly appearing on the glass, opening to the outside world as it sailed out over the green landscape. "Now, let us see if this can tell me anything," he mused as he pulled out a piece of paper, scowling as it became a scroll with words drawn in old inks style. "Shouldn't better ink pens have been invented by the time anyone has combustion engines? Oh well, what do I have here? Harry James Potter, Age 11, Student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ahh, and I'm British! Actual British too! Thought I'd end up in another Britannian world," Harry said with a chuckle before looking up curiously as he glanced out the window. "Maybe this is Canglen? I don't think I've ever visited their countryside."
"Ahem."
Harry rose an eyebrow as he looked to the now open door, a bushy-haired girl of similar age to himself staring back at him. "Excuse me, have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one," she questioned, polite but clearly a bit exasperated by the task.
"A toad or a frog?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "No in either case, but thought I'd ask for future references."
"Toad," she restated in resignment. She was about to leave but hesitated as a thoughtful look came over her face. "I'm sorry for overhearing, but did you say you're Harry Potter?" she inquired, squinting at him. Or, rather, his forehead.
Harry blinked, suddenly becoming cautious. "Who might be asking?" he countered, eyeing her up and down as a potential enemy.
She beamed at the obvious confirmation. "Hermione Granger, pleasure," she introduced, sticking her hand out in greeting. He hesitated for a moment before shaking the appendage. "I've read all about you."
"You have? Where?" Harry inquired curiously as she stepped fully into the compartment.
"Hmm, let me think: Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century," she listed off thoughtfully.
"Shite," he cursed under his breath to her surprise. "Those are all history books. Was hoping it was something I could get royalties off," he fibbed with a smirk, getting a blank look from her. "It was a joke."
"Right," she accepted uncertainly before changing the subject. "Though, the books made it seem like your scar was permanent...but you were a baby, so I guess that was just best guess at the time," she murmured, half to herself.
"Scar?" he repeated, eyes widening for a moment before grinning. "Oh, right, that. Little too distinctive, so..." he trailed off impishly, raising his bangs to reveal an unblemished forehead...that "rippled" for a moment, a lightning bolt appear an instant later.
Her eyes lit up in fascination. "Holy Cricket! What spell was that? How did you do it without a wand? Or are you a metamorphmagus? Can you-?" she started to rattle off until Harry covered her mouth with one hand. She was surprised but didn't try and remove the appendage.
Harry somehow looked both amused and annoyed. "If I take the handoff, do you promise to cease-fire?" he asked politely, getting an apologetic nod. "Well, I'm going to guess you're one of those kids that spends most of her time reading because she's too smart and other kids don't like that?" he guessed knowingly as he removed his hand.
Hermione stiffened and seemed to shrink into herself a bit. "I-I'm sorry, is it that obvious?" she asked while trying to push down some rather hurtful memories.
"As the Americans say, I've been around the block a few times," Harry answered reassuringly. "And I'm honestly not trying to get rid of you, but didn't you say something about looking for a toad?" he reminded curiously.
"Oh, bugger! It was fantastic to meet you!" Hermione called before she ran out of the room, clearly a bit embarrassed.
"High IQ, Social Ineptitude, and eight-to-ten says she's going to be drop-dead gorgeous by the time she leaves school," Harry summarized to himself before nodding to himself. "Yep, definitely should keep an eye on her," he mused as he cloaked his scar again, frowning. "When I was a baby...? Here I just thought I coincidentally had the same name as some local celebrity, but if they know about the scar...damn, I guess I finally found my homeworld. On a failed jump! Ha!" he laughed to himself before shaking his head. "Well, I guess I might as well as do this school thing for a little while. Hypatia and Elizabeth are not going to be happy about that, I know."
He cracked his neck as he considered how to go about doing this. He was going to need books and school supplies. All he had to do was feign ignorance at their disappearance. Hopefully lost luggage was a believable enough excuse. He had the resources to fund this on the fly. He had the clothes, the look, and- "She said a wand?" he recalled with a hum. "A system reliant on implements with wands being the default form to use," he murmured as he reached into the sleeve of his robes, biting his lip as his hand went far further in than should be possible. He pulled his hand back and revealed his desired item, looking nostalgically upon it. "Knew there was a good reason to keep you around, old friend."
It was a wand of gnarly wood, old and pale, looking akin to three interwoven branches with a small, oval gap between them near the tip.
Feeling secure in his ability to slip into this situation with only minor, manageable issues, Harry hummed to himself. "I haven't been to this world since I was seven, maybe? And the Dursleys certainly weren't into magic, so- What the shite happened when I was baby that made me famous?" he asked himself before a very alarming thought came to mind. "Am I a Magic-Jesus to these people? Cool as that would be, I hope not."
With that possibility mingling in his head, he headed out of the compartment to do some exploring. He nearly ran into another boy doing so.
"Sorry, Mate, didn't see you there," Harry greeted.
"S'lright," he answered, glancing in the compartment. "You mind if I...?"
"All yours," Harry answered with an overdramatic swing of his arms before heading off on his own. The redhead gave him an odd look before entering the compartment.
He hummed a small tune, glancing around as he went by. "This entire damn train runs on magic," he mused, just a bit impressed. "Always interesting to see magic and technology fusing."
"Excuse me. Excuse me!"
Harry feigned ignorance for a second before turning to face the voice. It was an older redhead, who vaguely reminded him of the boy he just bumped into. "Yes?" Harry answered with a raised eyebrow.
"What, exactly are you doing wandering the halls?" he asked pointedly.
Harry got a good sense that this guy was trying to appear authoritative. It wasn't working. "Trying to find the loo," Harry lied smoothly, giving the boy a look like it was obvious.
"Oh," the redhead seemed to lose some of his bluster at that. "Just up ahead."
"Thanks," Harry said as he continued on, entering the bathroom to prevent suspicion. With a sigh, he sat down and waited a good five minutes before leaving. Glancing around, he saw the redhead was nowhere in sight but did spy someone else of interest.
An old woman pushing a trolley full of snacks, stopping at each compartment.
"Objective one: Money," Harry said with a grin as he walked towards her.
"Excuse me, dear, coming through," she said in a kindly voice.
"Ma'am," he greeted with a nod as he pressed against the wall to let her move by. Or so she thought, the wheels hitting the toes of his shoes. "Aw, bugger!" he hissed as he pulled his foot back and several bags of goodies fell to the floor. "Double bugger."
"Oh dear, I'm sorry," the trolley witch said in concern.
"No, no, that was on me. Let me get that for you," Harry said, bending down before she could try to pick up the items. As he helped clean up the mess and put the sweet back on the cart, he found what he was looking for: a few gold coins had fallen on the floor. With a smirk, he picked them up...and handed them to her. "I think these are yours as well?" he answered, feigning uncertainly.
"Ahh, thank you, dearie. It's nice to have such good-natured students coming to Hogwarts," she thanked.
"Mind if I buy something while I have you here?" Harry requested hopefully.
"Certainly. What would you like?" she offered with a smile. "We have Chocolate Frogs, every flavor beans-"
"That," Harry said, instantly and honestly, getting an amused look. "How much would that be?"
"Well we have a large bag for a full galleon, but a small one will only cost you five sickles," she offered.
"You got change for a galleon if I take the small?" he inquired curiously as he pulled out said gold piece, getting a nod.
An instant later, Harry found himself with a small bag of candy and twelve silver coins as the woman left with her trolley. 'A galleon is seventeen of these? Horrible conversion rates, but oh well,' he thought to himself before shrugging it off as he headed back to his compartment. Or the one he showed up in at least.
"Oh, hi again," the redhead greeted.
"Ello," Harry greeted half-heartedly. "Any chance you know how much further away we are?"
The boy shrugged. "Don't know, this is my first year too."
Harry nodded in understanding as he stuck out his hand. "Names Harry, by the way."
"Ron," the boy answered in return with a smile. "Ron Weasely."
"Weasely?" Harry repeated curiously.
Ron tensed at that. "Is that a problem?"
"No, just curious," Harry answered he took a seat. "Did your ancestors work with weasels or just hunt them a lot?"
"Haha, very funny," Ron said with a glare off to the side.
"I'm actually being serious," Harry defended, getting the boy's skeptical attention. "Look, every surname usually comes from some job or deed or person. Smiths had a smithing ancestor. Millers have a miller. Names like Johnson and Jackson had someone that was the son of a John or Jack. So, what's your family history with weasels?"
Ron blinked as he realized the boy was being serious and not at all trying to insult him. "Bloody hell if I know," Ron admitted, smiling a bit self-deprecatingly. "Been asking myself that for years."
"Who knows, maybe you guys had weasels as familiar?" Harry suggested offhandedly.
"Be better than what I got stuck with," Ron admitted, reaching into his pocket to pull out...a rat.
Harry blinked as he starred at the rodent curiously, which starred back just the same.
"This is Scabers. Pathetic, isn't he?" Ron asked with a weak smile.
"Just a bit," Harry answered with a raised eyebrow. "He bits me, I'm stepping on him."
"Don't worry, he doesn't," Ron assured. "You know, unless you're trying to feed him and you get your fingers right up in his face."
"Yeah, I'd bite me too at that point," Harry joked as he laid down on his side of the compartment. "Well, I'm going to assume we're going to be the only ones here, so I'm going to lay down until we arrive. Not trying to be rude, but I was kind of running before I got on the train."
"Okay. Have a good nap I guess," Ron offered.
Harry murmured his thanks as closed his eyes and let his mind drift. 'Well, I just have to try and bullshit my way through the "my luggage went missing" part of this and I should be fine. Worse comes to worse, I can just jump ship. Still, this definitely seems to be my homeworld, but I'm famous among the magicals? How'd I'd end up with the Dursleys? Be nice to get some answers while I'm still here,' Harry thought musingly, fighting a grin off his face. 'And if this school thing goes south, I can still try and visit my relatives, give them a scare before I leave.'
End of Chapter
And there we go, the first chapter of Harry Planeswalker. This fic is based on a...lot of different things. But yes, I'm dropping us into the story of a Harry Potter who has spent years planeswalking and now finds himself back in his world just in time for school. And now the wizarding world has to deal with him until if and when he decides to leave. There is a bit of mystery to all this, as we have no idea where Harry has been to or what he can do. He's also developed an...interesting sense of humor in his travels.
And for fun, going to include these bits in each chapter:
A Failed Jump: When a Planewalker tries to go to a specific world that they have been to before, but end up on an entirely different one. This is rare, but it will happen to every planeswalker eventually. Some say there is a force guiding these instances, others think it's something instinctive in nature, but most Planeswalkers just accept it as a quirk of their powers.
