Harry Potter, the wanderer in Time

Locked in the smallest bedroom for ruining the visit from the Masons, Harry Potter discovers that he has a newly developed claustrophobia. He was desperate to escape. So desperate, in fact, that he stepped over space and time itself to travel to strange and bygone eras. With little to no control over his newfound ability, join Harry in his trips through time as he struggles with his second year at Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter or any other recognizable characters from other franchises. This fanfiction is not for profit.

Note: I'm a non-native English speaker, so be prepared for sub-par grammar. Please do not expect strict adherence to canon, since this is a small hobby project and may be best defined as "snippets" rather than a story. You may see some minor original characters and minor crossovers. Please don't expect the completion of this snippet collection/story, but I'm putting it out here purely for my wish fulfillment.

Chapter 1

The First Trip

Harry paced restlessly in the smallest bedroom of the Dursley household, cursing his luck. He did not expect to be let out of the bedroom for a few weeks atleast, if Vernon's temper was any indication. He could not get his head around the unfairness of the situation. He did as he was told, and yet this Dobby, a self-identified House-elf and well-wisher, had to make things miserable for him. Not only did Dobby take all of his friends' mail, he also landed him in trouble in an attempt to stop him from returning to Hogwarts. After being used to the vast castle that was Hogwarts, and experiencing the limitless freedom of movement in Quidditch, the last thing he wanted was to get stuck in a room with barely enough space to move.

Harry started to grow restless and his pace increased in agitation. The more he thought about how small his little room was, the more he grew agitated. His breathing grew more labored. He stared helplessly at the barred window that prevented his escape.

`I have to get out of here' Harry realized, as fear of indefinite incarceration inside this room gripped him. Uncle Vernon may make good of his threat to never let him back to Hogwarts, and that was unacceptable. He could not communicate with anyone now, with the windows barred. He would have to make his own escape.

Harry searched his school supplies for anything that may be of use. After going through them all, the only thing he could come up with was a small knife that he used to cut ingredients for Potions. Thankfully, it had some charm placed on it to prevent it from going dull.

Harry eyed the wooden window frame. 'Not Ideal for cutting a window open, but not terrible either.'

Over the night, Harry slowly worked the knife around the frame, scrapping off little chunks at a time. Harry didn't have much experience in woodwork, but he suspected he was job was proceeding much faster due to some of the enchantments placed on the knife. This was required to cut some of the more stubborn magical ingredients.

Only an hour was left until dawn by the time Harry had completed working his way around the window. He pushed the window gently, and felt it move. A good shove ought to completely wreck it. Grinning, Harry gathered his wand, broomstick and a few Galleons of change he had and took a deep breath. His remaining belongings could be replaced or recovered later, once he tells someone else about his plight. Maybe Hagrid would help, like when he came to get Harry on his eleventh birthday. Smiling at the thought, Harry stepped back a few paces and lunged towards the window, shoulders first.

The window gave in much easier than expected. It was so quick, in fact, that Harry could not stop his momentum and he fell out along with the window. Biting in a scream, Harry braced for a painful landing. He was pretty sure it wouldn't kill him, since he had heard many anecdotes of magic cushioning small falls from his friends.

A few seconds later, Harry was still falling. He couldn't see anything in the darkness, but Harry was sure he was not that far up. He lived in the first floor, for goodness' sake! Not on top of the Astronomy tower! Fearing for his life, he gripped his broom hard, thereby making it hover. His arms stretched painfully as the momentum of the fall was broken by the hovering broom.

Harry struggled as he got into riding position atop his broom, thanking his Quidditch experience in the process. Steadying his breath, he surveyed his surroundings. In the dim light of the dawn, he could see trees below him. Turning his head, he got the shock of his life when he noticed that not just his house, but the entire Private Drive had disappeared. He seemed to be in the middle of some dense forest instead.

'Did I apparate?' Harry wondered, having heard of the magical method of transport from Ron. He had once apparated accidentally in his childhood, running away from one of Dudley's games. Of course, he didn't know what had happened then, but he had concluded that it was probably apparition when Ron explained the concept to him.

Harry had no idea where he was. He was no expert in Geography, but it seemed that he was in the middle of a pretty large forest. His best bet was to move out of this place before the sun rose and someone caught sight of him. 'Atleast this is better than the Dursleys' '

Choosing a direction at random, Harry moved forward as fast as he dared, keeping a respectable height where he may be mistaken for a bird. If he could find any magical settlement, he could contact his friends from there. Failing that, he needed to find the nearest muggle settlement to get an idea of where he was.

After about twenty minutes of flying and growing fear that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere, Harry realized that the trees where growing less dense. Another minute of flying later, he was positive he was reaching some settlement, if the cut down trees were any indication. Not wanting to risk someone catching a sight of him flying, Harry gradually lowered himself to the ground.

As soon as Harry got off his broom, a voice sounded from behind him.

"Cò thusa, spiorad itealaich?"

Harry jumped in fright, and turned around.

'Perfect.' Harry winced. He had managed to land himself in front of a girl who looked decidedly unfriendly. She was carrying a big stick which she was waving at him threateningly. Harry blamed his poor eyesight and lack of light for this mishap.

"Dè th 'annad? Spiorad? Mage? Deamhan?"

Harry did not have a clue which language he was being assaulted with. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Umm.. I don't speak your language. Do you speak English?"

"Ænglisc?" The girl frowned, still maintaining a tight grip on her stick. "Chan eil mi ga bruidhinn."

Harry blinked. The girl seemed to have misunderstood him. More importantly, it seemed she didn't know English. Which was strange.

Observing the girl, who seemed no older than ten, Harry could see that she was wearing old and dirty clothes. He felt a twinge of sympathy, as his own hand-me-downs from Dudley were in much better condition. The dress was very simple, almost primitive and looked medieval.

"Country?" Harry asked, hoping she understood atleast some basic words.

"Dè?" The girl looked very confused.

Harry sighed. `Maybe I was better off at the Dursleys? On second thought, no.'