Chapter Text
Over seven years has passed since Voldemort fell and Harry has just gotten his life back on track. Suddenly, he is pulled from his world and into another. A world of his nightmare. A world where Voldemort wasn't defeated and the side of the light are clutching at straws.
xXx
Harry Potter tapped his pen on his desk as he tried to think about his latest case and what he should be writing up in the report. He'd been with the Aurors for over five years and was now fully qualified after finishing his training last year. It was not what he'd been expecting, the paperwork was one thing and the long hours was the other. He'd thought that he would be fighting dark wizards and it would be similar to his years of fighting Voldemort. He'd been wrong.
"Hey, Harry."
Harry looked over to Ron as the red head stood before his desk. Ron looked at the paperwork, scattered before him, in interest. The red head had been an Auror longer than Harry and had progressed through the ranks quickly. Harry's magic and attitude had held him back in many ways but he was improving or so his bosses told him. Harry just felt like he was stuck.
"Hey," Harry replied and threw his pen on his desk before leaning back in his seat. "This would go quicker if they moved with the times and brought in computers."
"Not this again," Ron groaned.
It was an old argument between them, Harry wanted to use a computer and Ron still didn't understand what one was.
"Feel like a drink, it is your birthday after all?" Ron offered.
"Nah," Harry answered. "I'm still on the clock for another two hours, how about this weekend instead?"
"Sure," Ron announced and stood up. "See you tomorrow then."
"Yeah," Harry agreed before Ron wandered off.
Harry glanced around the Auror Department. Most had already left for the day and it was too early for the night crew to start. He stretched out his back before picking up his pen and going back to the papers before him. By the time that he finished, the first of the night crew started to drift in as he quickly tidied up his desk. He picked up his back pack and swung it over one shoulder as he walked through the Department and up to the London streets.
The streets were busy for a Tuesday night but Harry was used to that. He weaved through the crowds while everyone around him were heading home or out for a night on the town. Most wizard and witches used the floo or other magical means to get home. Harry liked to walk to his London apartment. His mind drifted as he walked and knew that it was just him when he arrived at there. His relationship with Ginny had fallen apart quickly due to many reasons. While Hermione and Ron had been able to make it work. Harry and Ginny had just fallen into shouting matches. In the end, Harry wasn't even sure what he'd been defending himself against and had walked out.
His friendship with Ron had been shaky for a while after that but in the end the red head had come around. Harry still felt awkward when he went around to the Burrow for family gatherings even if Ginny and him had broken up over four years ago. Harry had just fallen further into his work and any relationship he'd had had been fleeting and with no substance. Harry just sighed and his eyes traced over the people around him as he walked along. Tourists, families and business people alike mingled together.
Harry then felt a slight brush against the back of his neck. He'd been working long enough as an Auror to know that someone was watching him. His hand slipped down into his pocket and he curled his fingers around the Elder Wand. Feeling the power at his fingertips as he tried to glance into any reflective surface to see behind him. If there was someone following him, they knew what they were doing.
The next pub that he came across, he stepped into. Noise and smoke rolled over him as he walked up to the bar. His black jeans, light blue shirt and long black jacket blending in with the muggles around him as he strolled up to the bar. He looked into the glass behind the bar as he signalled for a beer. He couldn't see anyone giving him any extra attention.
"Three quid," the bartender said and Harry passed the money over.
"Cheers," Harry replied and turned as he looked over the bar.
Nothing stuck out to him as he sipped on the beer. At eight at night, the pub was just starting to get going. He could see a band was setting up as he pushed off from the bar and walked towards the bench, before the windows, that would overlook the street.
When the attack came, he was caught off guard.
He felt a hand wrap around his wrist and pull. He stumbled to the left as he dropped his beer and went for his wand. He couldn't see his attacker as he fell back into something as a cloth covered his mouth, then he felt the pull of a Portkey. He held his breath as the Portkey spat him out and he tried to elbow the invisible person behind him. A fist slammed into his ribs and he gasped in pain.
The smell of the cloth filled his nose and mouth as he felt light headed while an arm wrapped around his waist. His legs gave way as his vision tunnelled in before he fell into the darkness surrounding him.
xXx
Harry woke slowly and felt groggy like his head was filled with cotton wool. He could tell that he was laying on his side on a narrow bed as he blinked his eyes open. He took in the bare room around him slowly. He could feel the touch of magic on the air and he took note of the fact that he'd been stripped down to his jeans and shirt. He groaned softly as he slowly sat up on the edge of the bed.
The room held just the bed that he was sitting on and two doors. The walls were bare and there were no windows. He leaned forward and ran his hands over his face before looking at his bare wrists. They had even taken his watch, belt and shoes. That gave Harry a clue to the fact that they either gave him more credit than he deserved or were taking no chances. Harry, however, wasn't defenceless. You don't hold the Deathly Hallows without having a few tricks up your sleeve. He stood up and carefully stepped over to the wall and placed his hand on the plaster.
He closed his eyes and reached out with his magic to find out if there was a ward in place. He quirked a smile when he didn't find one, it would seem, that his abductors hadn't taken everything into account. He had an ace up his sleeve as he reached further out and could touch on a few background spells. He opened his eyes and stepped back before walking over to the door. Slowly he brought his hand up as he focused his mind. He could feel the spells, without touching the door, as he hesitated. His head was already giving him grief, he didn't want to touch the door and end up in a pile on the other side of the room.
His curiosity overrode that as he closed his eyes and took a look at the spells. His head pounded as he gently teased the spells apart. His teachers, at the Auror school, had always mentioned that he had a natural affinity for magic. He knew better, he had a connection to the Deathly Hallows. Those three magical items that had come together to save his life before the battle with Voldemort. He had then used the last seven years perfecting what he'd gained through the Hallows. Even if Hermione wouldn't let him try the last test of the killing curse. He thought the day that he'd snapped the Elder Wand, that had been the end, he'd been mistaken. It had only been the beginning.
He touched on a powerful locking charm first, but it was only on the door and not the rest of the room. They had linked his blood into the wards and there was a spell that people from the other side could look into the room and pass in items but he couldn't see out. That gave him a clue that they wanted him alive and were planning on feeding him. He opened his eyes and walked over to the other door in the room.
He reached out and turned the handle, already knowing there was no magic there. It opened up into a bathroom and Harry glanced around. It was tasteful and modern and that gave Harry another clue that they didn't normally house prisoners here or they didn't want him to think of the room as a prison. He walked over to the sink and opened the cupboard underneath but they had cleared it out. There was a towel hanging up and Harry took a sniff and could tell that it was clean. There was soap on the sink but nothing else.
Harry walked back into the bedroom, leaving the bathroom door open and glanced around. He was sure that there was a window hidden somewhere. If he could find it, it could give him a way out, as long as they were on the first or second floor.
He tensed and looked over to the door when he heard the handle rattle. He braced himself as a dark-haired man walked in. Harry felt a chill go through him. He looked into the man's hazel eyes and took in the sight of his messy black hair. He knew the man from photos of when he was younger, he looked to be in his late thirties now. About ten years older than Harry himself.
"Hello," the man greeted. "My name is James Potter."
Harry eyed the man off and nodded.
"I know who you are," Harry stated, not letting his guard down.
"Good," James remarked. "That will make this quicker. You are Harry Potter?"
"Yes," Harry answered, having a surreal moment. "You would have gotten that off my Auror badge."
James's lips twitched up at that but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You are correct," James remarked. "And we apologise for abducting you the way that we did and holding you here."
"Then you will happily let me go then," Harry attempted.
"It's not that simple," James sighed.
"The door is just there," Harry pointed out. "Seems simple enough to me."
James sighed again and crossed his arms. Harry knew that he wouldn't be going anywhere.
"Just a personal question," James inquired. "I am your father. Did I raise you?"
"No," Harry answered shortly and James nodded.
"This must be a little strange then."
"You would think so," Harry remarked. "But I'm used to strange by now."
James then gave a laugh and he looked years younger. Harry knew that he hadn't gone back in time as his mind raced about what was going on. The man before him had aged past the date that he was killed which led Harry's thinking somewhere else.
"This is not my dimension," Harry stated and James startled. "You have taken me out of my timeline."
James nodded slowly.
"It will reset itself," James assured him then shifted on his feet. "Then you will be pulled back to your rightful time and dimension."
"After how long?"
"One year."
Harry felt a chill run down his back.
"In one year," James clarified. "The spell that was cast will wear off and you will go back."
"Why am I here?" Harry questioned.
"That will take a long time to explain," James responded. "I'm sorry, but I don't have the time at the moment. I am already running a risk by being here now."
"And the reason that I can't leave?"
"Things are different here," James told him. "This world is not like yours."
Harry stepped back and looked at his father. The fact that the man was alive gave that away.
"I'm sorry," James said quickly. "But you just have to trust us, I have to go."
James quickly stepped back to the door and the spell covered him as he left. Harry was left standing there alone in the middle of the room.
"You could have left me a book at least!" Harry yelled after his father in frustration.