Summary: Following the events of cannon before the epilogue, this story follows Harry as he is suddenly vaulted into a new dimension where people he saw die, are suddenly very much alive. There his confronted once more Voldemort's and the horrors that accompany him, but also is granted the chance to have something he always wanted, a family. This story follows Harry as he shares the events of his life to help those learn from his mistakes, in the hopes that they can defeat Voldemort once again.

Note: I've been toying with this idea for a little while now and decided to give it a shot. Any and all feedback welcome and appreciated, I am anxious to know what you guys think. Please let me know if you have any suggestions or questions as well! I am always looking for ways to improve my stories. Also, if you have any ideas for a better summary, I would be forever in your debt. Well, I guess I'll let you guys get reading and hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter One: "Have you ever heard of inter-dimensional travel?"

The boy sat there, black hair an untidy mop set over vibrant green eyes magnified by the flimsy wire glasses that sat perched on his nose. Even after all these years his glasses had somehow managed to survive the many trials they had been put through. Although by now they were more magic than actual glasses, something that was apparent to all but the young man to whom they belonged.

"Sir?" A gentle voice drifted into the room as a young woman with enough bushy, brown hair for three people, poked her head into the room. Youthful innocence seemed to exude from her features and Harry felt his heart clench in the manner that was fast becoming familiar as their gazes met. "I was told to fetch you."

With a curt nod of acknowledgement, Harry sat back as the girl turned and bounced down the stairs and back into the drawing room below. The drawing room that was chalk full of memories, both new and old.

Despite his best efforts to ignore his circumstances, Harry found his thoughts turn back to the night he had arrived, nearly a week ago now.

He had been exploring one of the few hideouts of Voldemort's that had not been dismantled yet, when it had happened. He felt something shift beneath his foot just as the magic began to change around him. Panic had engulfed him as he met the equally stricken gazes of his friends, all of which had chosen to accompany him that day. After all this, to still die at that bastard's hand…

But that wasn't the aim of this magic, at least not directly, for as the magic picked up, whipping around the room Harry became isolated in a tornado of power, yet it did not touch him. Until all of a sudden it did and Harry felt himself being yanked and pulled in many directions, while being squished by an overwhelming feeling of pressure at the same time. It felt as if someone had tried to take him side-along appareling while they were port-keying; in short, it was horrific.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, with Harry finding his face pressed against a scratch strewn floor in a dungy room that was horrifyingly familiar. He was at Grimmauld place. In the drawing room to be exact. Although, as he had had pushed himself up and looked around, he had seen that it was not how he remembered it being when he had been there on the run. Rather it was more like it had been when he was first brought the headquarters during fifth year.

Moving carefully, Harry continued to look around and promptly decided that he must have died. That the Avada Kadava curse he had taken had simply been time delayed, waiting 4 months before it finally got around to killing him. There was simply no other explanation. For looking at him in undisguised shock was none other than Albus Dumbledore. The same man he had seen die from ten feet away. The same Albus Dumbledore whose funeral had attended.

That had led to a round of tense questions, a healthy amount of vertiserum, more questions, a few more people that should have been dead, and they had finally arrived at the conclusion that this wasn't possible. Or at least it shouldn't be. And since it apparently was possible, as it had happened, they had decided that Harry had somehow managed to get himself thrown into a different dimension. One where dead people were alive, death eaters still ran rampant and for some crazy reason, Voldemort was sane and yet still mostly evil.

Which led him here, back to this very moment where he sat watching the retreating form of a naive Hermione so very different from his own. A Hermione that didn't even know who he was. Coming back to himself with a harsh jerk of his head, Harry pushed himself from the chair and stole down the hallway into the drawing room below. He moved with ease of long-practice, silent and graceful as he had learned, from many different sources, but all for the same need to survive.

It was becuase of his unconscious stealth that no one noticed his arrival as he hovered in the doorway, taking a moment to brace himself for the coming conversation.

It had been decided that Harry needed to share his story, his life, and that he had to include everything from first year onwards. Becuase this was about more than just strategy, this was yet another test of his validity. Another test of if he was who he claimed. And honestly, it left him a little peeved, as if ventriserum wasn't proof enough. And so he waited, hovering while the people within discussed him in abstract curiosity.

Harry's presence had been strictly "need to know" up until today and many of the people that stood chatting in the room knew nothing more than there was a strange person that arrived at headquarters under mysterious circumstances. And so introductions would have to be made; again. Probably rather confusing ones, as apparently he had a counterpart that was alive and well in this world. That was weird to think about. Another him. They hadn't met yet, and Harry wasn't altogether sure he wanted to. What if he didn't like himself? Again, weird. Just weird. The kind of weird that only ever seemed to happen to him.

It was with a resigned sigh that Harry stepped out of the door way to make his way to the middle of the room where Dumbledore, who was apparently alive here, stood near the large pensive Harry knew had brought specifically for this meeting. Wasn't he lucky.

"Ahhh… Harry. Come here please." It took Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes all of a second from the time he entered the room to lock gazes with his own. At the sound of the old man's calm tones, the room fell silent and everyone began staring at Harry in curiosity. Thankfully, stares were something Harry was well used to and he was able to make his way calmly across the room.

"Shall we begin?" Harry asked as the silence continued to stretch on, quiet proud of how steady his voice sounded. Fake it 'til you make it… The old muggle phrase drifted through Harry's mind as the room exploded with activity as people rushed to take their seats, eager to find out what was going on.

Once everyone had settled, Harry opened his mouth and began, unintentionally cutting off Dumbledore, who had expected to have to make the introductions.

"Hello, thank you all for coming here. I will get around to introducing myself but first, I feel a little background information is needed." Harry's voice was calm and confident as he easily, if not comfortably, fell back into the persona he had been forced to create during and after the Final Battle.

"Who here has heard of inter-dimensional travel?" As he had guessed, his rather unexpected question was met with more than a few confused expressions as the members of the Order of Phoenix tried to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. Hermione, the normal hero in such situations, apparently was not a member of the order here.

"I hadn't either." Harry commented with a self-depreciating chuckle. "But due to recent events I have been pushed to become something of an expert in the subject. Not a very competent one, but I am trying. I am sure you all have heard rumors of the 'strange newcomer' and I am here to introduce myself at last. I arrived late last week due to a rather creative and unique set of circumstances in one of Voldemort's better protected hideouts."

There were the predictable winces at the name as well confused looks as people tried to figure out how they could have missed an attack on Voldemort's own property. Several people went so far as to mutter to their neighbors, asking if they had hear anything. But of course no one had, and attention quickly refocused on Harry, rightly guessing he had the answers they desired.

"These particular circumstances are how I ended up here, in a different dimension. Now, I know there have been documented cases of this happening before, but I seem to have been the first." Harry paused to give people a moment to air their confusion. He saw many bewildered and wary faces and took a bracing breath before continuing.

"As to the exact magic behind how I came to be here, I am afraid to say, I am still rather unsure how to explain it. If you have further questions, feel free to pester the Headmaster for more information, as he seems to understand what occurred far better than I ever could.

Basically, I was on a mission with a few of my closest friends when I triggered some kind of magical storm. Next thing I knew I was here." Harry shrugged, showing his own confusion.

"Upon my arrival, as you can probably assume, I underwent extensive questioning from the leaders of the Order of the Phoniex, under vertiserum in addition to several other methods, before they were assured of my honesty. Part of the deal that was struck was that I share the information about my life and identity with you all today." Here Harry paused once more, subtly wiping his sweaty palms on his robes before continuing.

"You see, in my world Voldemort is gone." This time there was no muttering, merely shocked expressions. Taking advantage of the silence, Harry pressed on with his explanation, eager to get this over with.

"My name is Harry Potter, the son of Lily and James Potter." A soft gasp drew his attention and Harry felt the breath knocked from his lungs as he met the gaze of his mother, whose eyes did indeed look a great deal like his own. Mustering up a little nod of acknowledgement, Harry licked his suddenly parched lips and continued to explain.

"Through the use of the Headmaster's pensive, which he has so graciously granted us use of for this evening, I will show you the key events of my life. I was rather… involved with the fighting in my home dimension, and as such, it is hoped, that using these experiences you all will stand a better chance through your own battles.

So if you wouldn't mind. Please place a finger in the pensive, the first memory has already been prepared. It should provide a little more background on the world and my story. Questions will be answered after, if they are not answered in the memory." With a final curt nod, Harry place a finger in the creamy liquid of his own memory and dove into the pensive, attempting to escape the flow of questions he was sure would follow soon after.

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It was safe to say Lily Potter was in shock. And that she had probably broken her husband's hand, if his wincing was anything to go by. To shocked to even mumble an apology Lily stared at the young man before her, trying to come to terms with what he had said. He was Harry Potter. Her son. Well, her son from another dimension, but he was still Lily Potter's. He was still hers.

Lily shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She had thought he looked familiar when she had first seen him, yet he did not look enough like her Harry for her to instantly make the connection. Her Harry was taller and broader, with far more muscle than the skinny man before her could ever dream of possessing. The new Harry also carried himself in a way that made him appear far older than he should be if was actually the same age as her son, making the comparison that much harder. And there was the fact that it was not a comparison she had been expecting to make.

Startled from her thoughts by the young man's sudden disappearance, Lily leapt to her feet, eager to learn more about her almost son. Racing over to where the pensive sat at the head of table, Lily practically threw herself into the basin, in her haste to figure out what was going on.

As the mist of the pensive solidified around her, she tried to guess what the memory would be, but honestly had no clue where it would begin. Would it start with family memories? His Hogwarts letter? The first day of school? There were countless places he could begin, and Lily found herself wishing to see them all.

The white fog darkened until it turned into the dark, age-worn brown of a small shack. Lily could here the loud crossing of waves just barely audible over the howling of the wind that was shaking the small building in its fury. Instinctively tightening her cloak around herself at the screaming of the storm, despite not actually being able to feel the wind, Lily looked around, excited to see what a young Harry would look like. Would he look like her own son had? Or would he different?

Her mouth nearly fell open in surprise when she caught sight of the young boy, stretched out in the lumpy couch, the only piece of furniture that adorned the room. He was massive! The young man she met today looked nothing like that, but maybe he went on a diet or something… He must have, for a quick glance around the room showed no other possibilities, unless he was behind the one other door. But why would the memory have started here if he was in a different room?

"Where are you?" A Weasley twin asked, obviously just as unable to reconcile the beached whale snoring on the couch with the fit and respectable young man that was currently leaning against the wall, the picture of dignified disinterest.

"Over in the corner on the floor."

There was a collective of shuffling as people shifted to try and catch a glimpse of the mysterious child. When Lily did she felt her heart clench in her chest. He was so tiny. Nothing but a mere scrap of child with hair standing every direction and bright green eyes that dominated his gaunt face. He had only the thinnest of blankets and was shaking so hard it seemed to be painful. Lily felt herself began to swell in rage at the injustice errors her. Why were they here, the child not even having a proper blanket? Why was one child the size of walrus and the other nothing more than skin stretched over jutting bones? Did they live here?

"Whats going on?" The other twin asked, Lily thought it might have been Fred, although she was having a hard time tearing her gaze from the young child long enough to check. He was doing something on the floor…

As the mother drew closer she felt her heart once again give a painful contraction. A birthday cake. He had drawn a birthday cake in dust, his shuddering breathes softly giving voice to to the traditional song.

"I am about to receive my Hogwarts letter. It is currently seconds away from my eleventh birthday."

"Did you live here?" Lily asked, still trying to puzzle out the reason for the situation around her.

"No." A mono-symbolic response. No elaboration. No explanation. Nothing.

Lily opened her mouth to ask another question, only to be interrupted by a ripping noise, as the already rattling door to the small shack was ripped from its hinges to reveal none other than Hagrid standing in the doorway. Closing her mouth for the moment, Lily decided to let the scene play out in the vain hope that it would provide some information. It certainly couldn't be any vaguer than the person to which the memory belonged.

She watched as Hagrid bustled over, forcing the other boy off the couch, only to feel her face drain of color when the door to the other room was opened to reveal none other than her sister and her oversized husband.

It wasn't possible. No. No way Harry was living with her sister of all people. Where was everyone else? James, herself, Remus, Sirius? Hell, even Albus or Minevera would have been better options. That's not to say Lily did not love her sister, she simply understood her hatred of magic that rose above any of Petunias other, more redeeming, qualities that could have possibly made such a situation work for anyone.

Maybe he's just vacationing with them, She thought to herself with desperate ferocity, though she knew it was an empty wish. No. For whatever reason Petunia seemed to have somehow ended up raising her eldest son. And where were her other other kids, if that was the case?

It was several moments later that Lily was able to pull herself back to the present, just in time to see a young Harry eating the sausages Hagrid had offered with a veraciousness that tore at her heart. When was the last time he ate? She wondered, disliking the way this memory was going the longer she watched. He certainly was skinny enough to have skipped several meals at least.

As she watched Hagrid try to explain why he was there in abstract horror, Lily realized Harry didn't even know he was a wizard. Just as the truly disturbing thought crossed her mind, a shouting match erupted before her, confirming her suspicion. How did this happen? Why did James and I never tell him? What the hell is going on?

She found herself more confused than ever as she watched Hagrid give Harry his Hogwarts letter, the child's eyes widening with each line he read. Her heart twisted tighter at his innocent question regarding owl mail. How was he so ignorant of the wizarding world? It seemed every second she watched the scene playing out in front of her, she gained far more questions than answers.

Lily felt everyone's eyes turn to her in shocked surprise when her name was mentioned during Petunia's rather long winded and unflattering rant explaining how they knew of the wizarding world. Many people didn't even realize she had a sister, let alone were able to recognize her.

Lily felt James move to stand beside her, his hand slipping around hers, offering his silent comfort and support. Despite herself, she felt each of her sisters accusations slip into her heart like a knife. It still hurt, even after all this time, to hear what her sister thought of her, all becuase of something she was unable to help or control. But it was nothing to pain reflected in the boys eyes before her, eyes that were exact copies of her own.

She gave a gasp and felt James squeeze her hand as Petunia concluded her raving by explain how she apparently gotten herself blown up. She had died? Is that what happened? She returned her attention to the young Harry, who had just turned a rather sickly pale color. Lily felt her already shattered heart crack into even finer pieces at the pained confusion dripping from the little boys lips as he nearly begged for clarification.

She wanted nothing more to rush over and offer him the comfort he so obviously desired but instead found herself listen to the story of her death. A rather horrific story, that had her, and many others, gaping between the two Harry's in astonishment. He had stopped Voldemort? How? Could he do it again? The questions once again were racing around in her mind, yet once again lacked any sort of answer.

Lily was suddenly jolted from her thoughts by the bellows of Petunia's husband's, Vernon was that his name? He was fairly screeching at the little child and Lily found herself filled with righteous fury, a welcome relief from the grief and confusion that had been wringing her heart dry for the past half hour. Forgetting completely that there was nothing she could do, Lily stormed over and placed herself between Vernon and Harry, trying to protect him as well as she could.

It wasn't until James came over and reminded her in gentle whisper that there was nothing she could do that Lily deflated. She reluctantly stepped aside and looked over the scene with sad eyes, once more feeling broken and more than a little lost. In her present state, she was unable to suppress a wince when Vernon talked about "beating" it out of the boy. If had even tried…

Unable to take it anymore and desperate for something to distract herself, Lily studiously turned her back to Vernon and instead looked around the pensive, trying to gauge the other's reactions. Everyone was pale, the trademark Weasley freckles, stark on their features. Molly had tears glistening in her eyes, and when their gazes met, Lily knew that she had an ally in protecting Harry. The eldest Weasley children, including the twins looked shocked and a little confused, and kept looking from the memory Harry to James and Lily and back, as if trying to reconcile the information they had learnt.

Remus and Sirius were also ghostly, each of their eyes glowing in anger. Remus's eyes had taken the amber tone of the wolf, bespeaking of his emotional upheaval as his gaze remained locked on the scene before him.

As Lily continued to survey those around her, her gaze finally came to rest on the real Harry, his face blank except for a faint trace of confusion that hardly seemed to touch his features, yet was present none the less. He was looking around as if he was unsure why they were so uncomfortable, as if he did not understand their reactions. This took the fractured pieces of Lily's heart and ground them into dust. No longer able to distract herself, Lily instead turned into James' side and tuned out the memory until they were expelled from the pensive altogether.