The Life and Times of a Dimensionally-Displaced Wizard

Chapter One

It was a quiet night for Harry, save for the soft crackling of the fire, as he sat behind his massive mahogany desk at the Ministry of Magic, playing catch-up with his paperwork.

He sighed as he moved one more sheet of parchment to the 'done' pile before pulling another towards him. It had been ten years since he and Ron had joined the Auror Corps and, in the aftermath of Voldemort's downfall, been rapidly promoted to Captain (in Ron's case) and Head Auror (in Harry's case), and it seemed to Harry that each and every person under his command left their paperwork on his desk for him to finish.

'Case in point,' he thought as he picked up the parchment in front of him: an arrest record from rookie Auror Augustus Entwhistle, following the apprehension of one Julian Asticot, a Dark Wizard on the run from French Authorities for Muggle-baiting, kidnapping, and torture charges–something that should have gone to the Office of International Magical Cooperation's Extradition Bureau.

With a flick of his wrist, the parchment folded itself into an origami owl, which took flight and hovered over his desk. Harry spun his chair around to face the fireplace and reached up to grab the small jar of Floo powder on the mantel. He took a pinch of the glittering black powder and tossed it into the fire, which turned a bright emerald green. The owl did a little loop over his desk and dove headfirst into the flames, disappearing with a small whoosh.

Harry leaned back in his chair and let out a small sigh, letting the warmth of the fire wash over his body. He likely would've fallen asleep right there if it hadn't been for the knock at his door, which came at the exact moment his eyelids began to droop.

Harry sat up and spun his chair around to face the door. "Come in," he called.

The door opened and Ron Weasley entered, wearing his combat gear–a brown leather vest over a beige shirt, with black trousers and matching leather boots, with a red cloak made from Chinese Fireball skin thrown over his shoulders to complete the ensemble, all of which was enchanted for maximum durability, flexibility, and comfort.

"Oi, mate, got any firewhiskey on you?" he asked, striding into the room and flopping ungracefully into the chair across from Harry's desk. "Gonna need a few, the night I've had."

Harry chuckled and waved his hand–a bottle of Ogden's Finest and two glasses floated over from a table in the corner. "One of those nights?" he asked as he filled the glasses and passed one to his best friend.

In response, Ron seized the glass and drained half of it in a single gulp, then released a loud belch accompanied by a three-foot-long jet of flame. "You have no idea," he said, coughing out a cloud of smoke as he spoke. "Three raids today alone, and another disciplinary write-up."

Harry raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his own firewhiskey, breathing out a small cloud of embers. "Another one? Why?"

"'Cause Appletree's a blithering idiot, that's why," grumbled Ron, sinking low in his chair. "The last raid today, he goes and Apparates to the wrong bloody house! Scared some poor old couple half to death, the pillock."

"Well, at least you don't have paperwork up the arse," replied Harry, gesturing to the slightly-smaller-but-still-frighteningly-large pile of parchment sitting in his in-tray. "It'll take the rest of my life to finish all this."

"That's what the firewhiskey's for," retorted Ron. "After a few glasses, you stop caring."

Harry chuckled and clinked his glass against Ron's. "Fair point," he admitted. "So, now that the small talk's out of the way, what brings you here?"

"Ah!" exclaimed Ron as he set his glass down and began searching through his pockets. "Where'd I put…aha!" He withdrew a folded piece of parchment and laid it on the desk. "Just came in–Hermione's already approved it."

Harry's eyes widened. "Is that…?"

"An arrest warrant for one Theodore Nott, wanted for questioning regarding several illegal Time Turners?" finished Ron with a cheeky smirk. "Yes. Yes it is."

"Brilliant," said Harry as he stood and crossed over to his wardrobe. He pulled out a set of combat gear identical to Ron's, with the exception of an emerald-green dragonhide cloak instead of red. "I'll meet you in the Briefing Room."

"Alright," replied Ron, and he drained his glass before getting up and leaving the office.

Harry quickly changed into the combat gear. He'd been wanting to get a chance to go after Nott for months now, but he'd never had any solid evidence against him until now. He threw on his cloak and glanced at himself in the wardrobe mirror. Finding his appearance satisfactory, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a gold badge with the words 'Head Auror' engraved on it in loopy script. He pushed some of his magic into it and watched as numbers and letters spun around the edges of the badge, eventually spelling 'Active Warrant: Full Combat Gear'.

Every Auror was issued a badge: standard Aurors had bronze, Captains had silver, and the Head Auror had gold. Each of these were linked by a Protean Charm to the entire squad, and the badges would vibrate and chime when a message was received. Harry pinned his to his cloak and set off toward the Briefing Room.

The Briefing Room was a large, lecture hall-type room with seven rows of long, connected desks and a large projector screen dominating the front wall. The room was only used for raids involving a large number of Aurors, such as the one Harry was about to lead.

Ron was leaning on one of the long desks when Harry arrived. "Took you long enough," he said jokingly, chuckling when Harry gave him the two-fingered salute in response. "The others should be here soon."

As if on cue, the door opened and a young woman of about twenty-five walked in; she had short black hair and bright blue eyes, with her bangs swept over her right eye, and was wearing the standard Auror uniform. This was one of the newer Aurors, Cassandra Smith, second cousin to Zacharias Smith and a member of Ron's squad.

"Evening, Cassie," said Ron with a wave.

"Hey boss, boss's boss," Cassandra replied. "Who're we going after this time?"

Harry tossed a copy of the warrant over to her. As she read, her eyes slowly widened.

"Theodore Nott?" she asked. "I thought we didn't have anything on him?"

"We do now," said Harry. "We're just waiting on the team to get here so we can start the briefing."

Soon after, the rest of their team had arrived, and were seated at the desks. Harry waved his hand and Theodore Nott's picture appeared on the projector screen.

"Our target tonight is Theodore Nott," he said, and immediately the muttering started. "Up to now, he's been all but untouchable. But not anymore."

He began pacing the front of the room. "One of his associates gave him up in exchange for a lighter sentence. He witnessed Nott in possession of and distributing illegal Time Turners–we have the Pensieve memory and testimony under Veritaserum to prove it. Only thing that matters now is bringing him in."

He stopped and stared at each and every Auror in the room. "I won't lie: Nott's a crafty bastard, and well-versed in Dark magic thanks to his father and the rest of the Death Eaters. Best-case scenario, he gives himself up willingly, though I highly doubt it'll be that easy. He'll most likely try to either run away or fight back."

He turned to Ron. "My team will handle getting us in. Ron, your team is responsible for setting up the Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards," he said. "We don't want him getting away. He doesn't know we're after him, and I intend to keep it that way until it's time."

"You got it, mate," said Ron, giving Harry a thumbs-up.

Harry nodded and returned his gaze to the rest of the Aurors. "As for the rest of you: we want to do this quick and clean, but if he fights back, you are hereby cleared to defend yourself by whatever means you have at your disposal–lethal force is authorized."

He fixed the crowd with a stern look. "Now then, any questions?"

Silence greeted him, and he nodded. "Excellent," he said. "Now then, we'll be Portkeying directly to Nott Manor–your emergency Portkeys have already been modified to bring you there and back. My squad, on me, Wardbreakers at the front when we land. Is everyone ready?"

He was met with a chorus of affirmatives. "Perfect. On three, then. One…two…three."

He felt the hook behind his navel, and the world dissolved into multicolored light.

[Break]

His feet slammed against the ground a few moments later, followed by the muffled thuds of his squad members. He knelt to lessen the impact, and slowly crept behind a nearby tree. In front of them, Nott Manor loomed out of the darkness, its lighted windows giving it an almost forbidden feel. It looked more like some dark fortress than a mansion.

Harry brought his left wrist to his mouth; pulling back his sleeve, he revealed a special rune tattooed into his skin. "Ron, come in. Are you ready on your end?" he whispered.

A few moments later, the rune on his wrist lit up, and Ron's slightly muffled voice filled his head. "All clear on this end. Ready to move on your mark."

"Excellent. Stand by–when the wards break, you'll need to get those Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey spells up fast."

"Understood. We're ready."

Harry looked back at his squad. "Everyone ready?" he asked.

His entire squad nodded as one, expressions hardened, and Harry grinned. "Excellent. Wardbreakers–take it down!"

Spellfire lit up the night as the Wardbreakers attacked. The wards became visible as soon as the first spell hit; an enormous dome of silver and gold magic swirled around the property. As the spells flew, the shield became more and more cracked until, with an almighty crash, they broke, sending sparks of gold and silver light arcing through the sky.

Almost immediately after, Harry saw the wards from Ron's team go up. "Forward! Everyone on me!" Harry barked, and he took off towards the manor, his team hot on his heels. The front door was promptly blasted off its hinges as Harry and his squad filled the foyer. Nott's wife, a pale, sickly-looking woman who was just entering the hall, screamed in fright as the dislodged door flew past her.

"Aurors!" roared Harry, hands alight with arcane energy. "We have a warrant, Nott! Get your arse out here and come quietly!"

The only response he received was Mrs. Nott's gasping sobs from where she was being detained by a pair of twin female Aurors. Harry spun around to face the rest of his team.

"Search the whole house. I want this bastard found," he said. "Pair up and search–nobody goes alone, understood?"

He was met with a chorus of 'yes, sir's, and his squad immediately fanned out. Harry grabbed Cassandra's shoulder as she passed by. "You're with me," he said, and she nodded nervously, turning her head to hide the faint dusting of red on her cheeks while gripping her wand tightly.

Harry gave her an encouraging smile, then raised his hand and cast a silent Homenum Revelio. Immediately, he got a hit roughly ten feet below him–a secret basement.

"Ron, I've found Nott. Hidden basement under the foyer," he said into his communication rune. "How soon can you get in here?"

"On my way now," replied the redhead. "My squad's got the whole property on lockdown–he's not going anywhere."

"Good. Cassie and I will meet you in the foyer…and cork it, I know what you're about to say." He hissed the last part so Cassandra wouldn't overhear. "Just get your arse in here."

He heard chuckling as Ron entered through the ruined front door. "I didn't say anything, mate," he said innocently, something Harry saw through immediately. He gave the redhead a glare, and Ron backed off, hands raised in surrender but with a smug smirk on his face.

"Whatever," said Harry, now thoroughly annoyed. "Let's just find a way into that basement."

They searched around the immediate area, leaving nothing to chance. Finally, Harry noticed an old-fashioned gas lamp hanging on the far wall–something that looked incredibly out of place. Curious, he pulled on it, and grinned when a section of the wall slid out of the way, revealing a descending staircase.

Ron and Cassandra stacked up behind him as they made their way down the stairs, which eventually led to a large laboratory filled to the brim with various cauldrons, ingredients, and wicked-looking instruments Harry really didn't want to know the purpose of.

A sickly-looking man with wispy, grey-black hair was bent over a workbench, fiddling with something and muttering to himself. "Come on, come on, almost there…"

"Freeze!" roared Harry, making the man jump and whirl around. "It's three-against-one, Nott. Do yourself a favor and just come quietly."

Nott's pale, sunken face split into a snarl. "Never," he hissed, and his wand fell into his hand with a flick of his wrist. Harry just barely managed to get a shield charm up in time to block the Cutting Curse Nott had sent at his neck; Ron and Cassandra returned fire with a Stupefy and Petrificus Totalus, but Nott dove out of the way and brought his wand up once more.

Harry, thinking quickly, raised his hand and Summoned the table behind Nott; it crashed into the man's back and sent him tumbling along with the table's contents. Parchment, quills, and inkwells fell to the ground, along with a small, hourglass-shaped device that glowed with a pulsating golden light–a Time Turner.

Nott, who had been thrown onto his front, scrambled to get to the Time Turner but was shoulder-checked into a wall by Cassandra. He stood slowly, dazed and clutching his left shoulder where it had struck the hard stone, glaring between Harry, Ron, and Cassandra as they advanced, wands pointed directly at his chest.

"Theodore Nott, you are under arrest for illegal creation of Time Turners with intent to distribute," declared Harry. "You have the right to speak in your own defense, but anything you say can and will be used against you at trial." He stooped to pick up the Time Turner. "Ron, you book him while I look for more evidence."

"Right," replied Ron as he pulled some magic-suppressing cuffs from his pocket and grabbed Nott by the arm. "Come on, Nott."

But Nott had no intention of going quietly. As quick as a striking snake, he slammed his free fist into Ron's throat and yanked the other free, plunging it into his robes and drawing a second wand, which he pointed at Harry. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry whirled around just in time to see the curse fly from Nott's backup wand. Knowing the curse couldn't be blocked by magic, he reared his arm back and hurled the Time Turner–the only thing in his hand at the time–at the incoming jet of green light.

Much to his shock, the Killing Curse struck the Time Turner and was seemingly absorbed by the device, which was forced back at him by the inertia. His Seeker reflexes flared up and he caught the Time Turner before it could hit him in the face, but one look at the ominously-glowing device told him something was very wrong.

That something revealed itself when the Time Turner exploded with the force of a grenade.

A bright flash of light and a deafening report filled the enclosed basement, forcing those present to cover their ears and close their eyes tightly. The basement shook from the force of the magical explosion, sending dust and debris raining on top of them.

"Harry!" shouted Ron, coughing as the dust invaded his lungs. He heard Cassandra calling out as well, and waved her over. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Where's Nott?"

"I'm fine," replied Cassandra as she brushed some rubble off her robes. "Nott's dead. A big piece of stone caught him in the head. He's over there." She jerked her thumb at the prone figure of Theodore Nott, who sported a massive, bloody head injury.

Ron swore under his breath and looked around at the destroyed basement as his squad came thundering down the staircase, wands at the ready. "Everyone, help clear this debris. We need to find Harry."

"Sir, what happened?" asked an Auror with an impressive handlebar mustache.

"Time Turner plus Avada Kedavra equals explosion," explained Ron, waving his wand and moving a large pile of debris. "Harry was holding the thing when it went off and brought the ceiling down on us."

"I'll notify Saint Mungo's," said Cassandra. She waved her wand, and a silvery hawk burst forth and soared up the stairs. The rest of the Aurors began casting Hover Charms, lifting the heavy pieces of stone and discarding them off to the side.

"Harry!" Ron called out as he moved a particularly large pile of debris. "Can you hear me?"

No response. Ron and Cassandra shared a worried look.

"I…I'm sure he's fine," said the redhead uncertainly. "He's Harry Potter. He's pulled through worse."

Cassandra wasn't so sure, and her worry only intensified when the mustached Auror made his way over to them.

"Sir," he said nervously, addressing Ron. "I…we found something, but…"

Ron frowned. "Spit it out."

The mustached Auror hesitated, then beckoned for them to follow. They did, clambering over various pieces of debris until they reached the far wall, where a group of six other Aurors were grouped around a particular section, whispering to each other. They quieted down when Ron and Cassandra walked up, and moved aside so they had a clear path.

Cassandra paled and held a hand to her mouth.

Ron stared in disbelief. "No…" he whispered. "No, no, no…"

There on the ground were the tattered remains of Harry's dragonhide cloak, it's owner nowhere to be found.

And that's the (modified) chapter! I shortened it up a bit to get me out of the corner I'd written myself into, and so the next chapter could actually make sense.

A sincere thank you to everyone who stuck with this story and the changes I've made! I know I've kinda bounced around a few times on this one, but I've finally gotten some semblance of a storyboard drawn up, so updates should be forthcoming!