Disclaimer: As J. K. Rowling is an awesome pen name and includes no miscellaneous numbers, it should be obvious that she is the true author of Harry Potter, and I own naught but my own thoughts and the twelfth "the" in this story. Oh, and I also don't own Lord of the Rings, or any other movie/book/TV series one of the characters may happen to reference.

Warning: Pay no attention to the title. I haven't the faintest clue as to where I am going with this, but as the first chapter has demonstrated to me, this won't be a serendipitous story in any way, unless I am bitten by Tinkerbell and develop spastic bursts of uncontrollable, potentially hazardous glee. If that is the case, my account shall be put on hiatus until such a time that my quest for revenge is acquitted and I am properly restored. Thank you.

Note: As this is my first story, I welcome constructive criticism, ideas for future chapters, and helpful pointers to any errors in context or grammar I have made. If you have any rude, vulgar, or pointless comments that will contribute absolutely nothing to anything anywhere that you feel the need to vent, I would humbly suggest that you purchase a diary to express your feeling to. Maybe one day it will capture a part of your soul and possess a young girl in order to go on a killing spree via giant snake. I've heard it happen.

Chapter 1: The Traveler's Guide

Harry sat on the ledge of Gryffindor Tower, intently studying his thumbs as they slowly circled one another, sizing their opponent up, searching for the twitch that would begin their battle to the death. The air was still, dust particles hanging in place, unwilling to interrupt the tense atmosphere of the oncoming duel. Wait! There it is! And here we go-

Heaving out a sign, Harry flopped down on his back, flinging his arms over his eyes. At first his inner banter was a fun distraction from his situation, but now it was getting tedious and just a tad bit pathetic. Although, now that all the bodies had been buried (the Death Eaters were all burned with a convenient fiendfyre, and Lord Voldey had a special little memorial as the carnivorous-charmed Cornish Pixies devoured his flesh) and Hogwarts had been fixed up, there wasn't much else to do other than twiddle one's thumbs as suicidal thoughts ran their creative course through one's mind.

Ever since the battle at Hogwarts took place, the war had been going downhill for the light side. Harry had been able to fire a severing hex at Voldemort's head, but with Nagini, the final horcrux, still alive, the Dark Lord was able to apparate away and the battle ended as a destructive draw. The single battle had been nearly as devastating as the entirety of the first war against Voldemort. Many great wizards were lost, including Remus Lupin, Harry's last friendly tie to his parents, Remus's wife, Tonks, and George's twin, Fred.

Anyone who openly opposed the Dark Lord was targeted, along with their families, and with their supporters dropping like flies, the Order of the Phoenix was experiencing a severe drop in moral. The light side's reluctance to kill led to ten Death Eaters being broken out of Azkaban for every one the Aurors captured, while dozens of light wizards were murdered in battle, their families killed in raids. Without Dumbledore to lead them, the light side looked to their last beacon of hope: a seventeen year old boy, busy grieving his own losses.

It wasn't until the death of one of Harry's closest friends, Hermione Granger, that he snapped out of his own head and decided to end the war at any cost. The sight of his best friend, the smartest witch in her year at Hogwarts, the epitome of grace and intelligence, lying on a cot in the Hospital Wing, minus two limbs and a heartbeat, gave Harry the perspective he needed to become serious.

He, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood began training with the best Aurors left, including Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Harry started to read the numerous books in the Black Library, given to him by his godfather, Sirius Black, in his will. Harry even briefly traveled to Japan to be taught by a master swordsman, Sensei Kenshi, determined to fully prepare himself before facing Voldemort again.

He returned to an Order half the size that he had left it.

Inevitably, the wizards' fighting leaked into the muggle world, and the left over cold war paranoia led to the realization of MAD. The United States and Russia managed to blow the world up, with only the pockets of protected wizard society remaining untouched, but not unaffected. The surviving wizards, realizing too late the immense power of muggles, flocked to the light side, seeking a nonexistent undo button. The Dark Lord, left with only his snake and a rat, was practically defenseless in the Malfoy Manor, and it was far too easy for Harry to put a bullet in between the eyes of the mad man who had caused the literal end of the world.

The death of the world caused the magic to drain out of the environment and the remaining wizards, leading them to a slow, painful demise. All, of course, except The Boy-Who-Lived. All of Harry's friends besides Luna had been out in muggle society, trying to defend the civilians against the pillaging Death Eaters when the atomic bombs had detonated, sweeping the wizards away with their fiery waves along with the billions of others taken. Only Harry remained, nursing the last of the survivors as the life was ripped from their bodies, cursing Voldemort for shooting an Avada Kedavra at him, and himself for having all three of the Deathly Hallows on him at the time. Evidently, the objects were not just a children's story to warn against foolish greed. Dying in the possession of the Deathly Hallows truly did grant the holder the title of the Master of Death, along with the extended life that comes with such a hefty title.

And to think, Harry thought, a bitter smile twisting his lips, the one thing that Voldemort feared, Death, could have granted him his one wish. Harry sighed as he got up, removing his arms from their iron grip around his head. Instead, the stupid git had to give his dream to his enemy, possibly the only person who truly abhorred the thought of never being able to die, to forever be denied to chance to see his parents in the afterlife. Oh well.

Harry flipped up from his position, abandoning his useless thoughts of taking a flying leap, knowing from experience that it was a futile endeavor. Swiftly walking down the corridors to the Headmaster's office, Harry pointedly avoided looking at the Hospital Wing, Luna's death only two weeks ago still too fresh in his mind. The loss of the last living human on the planet had hit him even harder than he thought it would have, considering Luna had held on for thirty two years after the destruction, twenty five years longer than anyone else, just to "help keep the nargles away", according to her. She had kept Harry sane, brightening his day with her wondrous fairytales and even playing Quidditch with him, despite her lack of interest in the game. Sometimes they would just fly together, leaving their troubles hundreds of feet below. Even when she became too weak to leave her bed, Luna still took care of him; together they doodled in muggle children's coloring books and sang nursery rhymes to pass the time.

A smile ghosted over Harry's face at the memory, his eyes briefly flashing in amusement before he refocused, briskening his walk. Harry bypassed the silent gargoyles standing guard before the Headmaster's old office. Harry had done his best to reconstruct the castle to how it was before it had been demolished in the Battle of Hogwarts, but the magic had long ago left the ancient stone walls. The stair cases no long shifted according to their fancy, the ceiling of the Great Hall lost its enchantment to appear as the night sky, and the paintings had ceased to move and talk, the spirits of the portrayed wizards extinguished along with everything else.

Once he reached the dusty room, Harry abruptly stopped. With a quick flick of the Elder Wand, the grand office was restored to its former glory, Dumbledore's knickknacks twinkling on the shelves in resemblance to the late Headmaster's eyes.

"Kreacher!" Harry barked out sharply. Out of all of the brave house elves that died in battle along with their masters, the miserable elf of the Black family was the only to survive due to his tie to Harry. He had considered breaking their bond and allowing the creature to join his precious mistress in the afterlife, but Harry couldn't bring himself to get rid of the last source of company he had, no matter how unpleasant. Although, soon that would no longer be an issue.

Years ago, when Harry had been going through the Headmaster's office, which was the last room he had repaired due to the memories it held of his beloved departed mentor, he had stumbled upon an old book titled The Traveler's Guide: A Getaway For The Terminally Bored Witch Or Wizard.

On the first page, an incantation was written that would apparently transport the caster to another world, though its name wasn't mentioned anywhere. The book held several maps, journal entries of previous users (including Dumbledore himself) a list of the various creatures inhabiting the planet (he would have to avoid the goblins; they were evidently even more nasty than in his world), and even a dictionary of the most widely spoken languages.

Kreacher popped beside Harry, the ever present grimace deepening on his face at the sight of his half-blood master. "Yes, Sir," the house elf spat out.

Harry ignored the nasty attitude. "I need you to bring me my trunk." He had packed all of his belongings (his battle armor, the shards of his old wand, his parent's photo album, the Sword of Gryffindor, a modified golden snitch, and a picture of him and Dumbledore's Army from sixth year) the day after Luna's death and had only been waiting to gather the courage to leave his one true home, Hogwarts.

As soon as Kreacher returned, Harry grabbed his trunk, set it down by his feet, and turned to face the miserable house elf.

"Kreacher, as your master and the last head of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I officially release you from all of your duties to the family and myself." Harry pulled out an old shirt from the folds of the Invisibility Cloak draped over his shoulders and presented it to the elf.

Fingers trembling, Kreacher took the piece of clothing. With watery eyes, he slowly lifted his head and gave a shocked Harry a watery smile.

"Thank you," Kreacher whispered. His body began glowing as the bond disintegrated between the elf and the wizard. Without a source of magic to keep him alive, Kreacher fell to the ground, his gray skin losing its last hue of life.

Harry sighed. While he despised the creature most of the time, Kreacher had been there for him when Luna died, standing ramrod straight next to him on the side of her death bed, even offering Harry a handkerchief once he pulled himself together somewhat. The little being's passing was sad, but it comforted Harry to know that Kreacher would be happy to reunite with the pureblood family he had served for so long.

With one last look around the room that had been a safe haven to him as a young boy, Harry took a deep breath and picked up the traveler's guide from the impressive desk overlooking the rest of the space. He sat down on his trunk and flipped the cover open.

"De veteribus et novis praeterita mundi morosa lucida mundi futura, est in potentia ad relaxat enim a tempus. Et forte in meliorem vitam, si invitus, nolo revertere, et habita in solem*." Harry chanted the spell, words rolling off his tongue with ease due to the hundreds of times he had practiced them. With his infamous luck, he thought it was likely that he would mispronounce a word and be sent to a planet full of Dementors in the middle of national orgy day if he didn't memorize it beforehand.

A shiny white mist with all of the colors of the rainbow sparkling within it formed around Harry, and he quickly shot up and gripped the handle of his truck, nearly dropping the book in the process. He prayed that everything came with him; the book mentioned nothing of the previous users arriving with nothing on them, but then again, showing up buck naked in an unknown place wasn't exactly something the five powerful wizards who had used the spell before would admit to.

Closing his eyes, Harry smiled widely as the magic wrapped around him, eager to start his next great adventure.

*End Chapter Note: The Latin spell roughly translates to "Of old world's morose past and new world's bright future, the potential to relax for a time has come. A chance at a better life, if by choice, I choose not to return, and stay in this new sun." It is a random stretched rhyme that I thought up typed and into Google Translate. Hope you weren't expecting some deep message or anything .