A/N: Stupid plot bunny wouldnt leave me alone and let me write...so I wrote this. Despite the Stargate SG: 1 reference in the chapter, it is not a crossover with that series, nor was it inspired by it. If anything, it was inspired by Sliders. Remember that show? I do...I miss it. Leave a review if you'd like. I'd like it if you did please. Just please dont ask when Im bringing the Stargate in...

It was a cool, breezy summer night in Godric's Hollow. The stars that shone over the village were bright since everyone had gone to bed. Everyone save the person and his owl in one house.

This house had a bit of an infamous reputation amongst the magical population of the village. Nineteen years ago on Halloween night a very dark wizard had attacked this very house, attacking and killing the young couple that lived there and destroying the house. Their one year old child had somehow survived, even managing to vanquish the dark wizard that had killed his family, and became somewhat of a hero. In the following years, the child went on to become a very powerful wizard in his own right. He lived up to the expectations of the people and became a real hero, finally killing the dark wizard who had returned over a decade after his defeat.

Then, after a brief interview, the young wizard vanished completely from society.

No one could find him, not even his friends or family that he had made over the years. There were sightings, of course. No one ever manages to vanish that completely without any evidence. Even the famous American wizard turned rock and roll star, Elvis Presley managed to escape completely. But the young wizard managed to keep away well enough. That isn't to say however that weren't looking for him either. His friends and family were looking for him, trying to bring him back into the society that he had saved by necessity.

The young wizard had been the subject of a prophecy that foretold either his death, or victory over the one responsible for the murder of his family. People had expected this, and more of him, and he begrudgingly delivered. But his disgust with the corrupt, inbred ways of wizarding society let to his self imposed exile.

It was funny, in a way, how he had hidden himself in the place it had all started. Late in the night, not long after his interview and disappearance, he had come and discreetly repaired the house of his youth. The charms and wards he placed around it kept muggles and magical people alike away, and kept it looking like the ramshackle ruin it had been before he arrived. No one had thought to question the magic around the house; after all, a very powerful dark wizard had been defeated there. Of course had they bothered to check, they would have found something much more important that they just remembered and trundled off to do that instead.

This very night, the young wizard was hard at work pouring over a tome at the desk in his room, his owl familiar perched on the back of his chair reading along.


Harry Potter rubbed his eyes blearily. He had been at his desk all day having been completely absorbed into the book he was reading. He couldn't help himself really; it was a very interesting book despite its battered condition. It had been willed to him by the late Albus Dumbledore. A year ago, one year after Voldemort's defeat at Harry's hands, the ancient headmaster had died naturally comfortable in his bed, and had willed almost everything he owned to Harry. Harry didn't care, really. He was happy about the books and a few of the devices Dumbledore had owned; namely the pensieve and one device that could unravel wards like a spool of cloth if the wizard was powerful enough to use it.

Harry didn't think he was callous or cruel to be uncaring about the death of the old man. In Harry's mind, Dumbledore had gotten what he deserved. He had never really forgiven the Headmaster after his fifth year, and after Remus had been killed on a mission for the order, his opinion had fallen even further. Dumbledore had apologized to Harry repeatedly but Harry remembered a saying he had heard from a tourist from Mississippi. The man had looked directly at him and said, "Once bitten, twice shy, my friend. Forgive but never forget."

Harry tried to adopt that outlook when it came to Dumbledore, but he was just unable to let it go. The old man had ruined any chance at a childhood that Harry had ever had. Did he really think that a simple apology would fix everything between him? It hadn't. It was this attitude that drove people away from Harry.

Dumbledore had always had some aura about him that attracted followers. Much like a moths to an open flame, Harry mused. The other members of the order and indeed, even Hermione and the Weasley's just couldn't, or refused to understand just how Harry felt and abandoned him. Harry was fine with this though. Hedwig, Hagrid and Dobby had remained loyal to him. Hagrid was a surprise too. He was the last person Harry would have expected to forsake Dumbledore for him. Still, he had been touched.

He had a crick in his neck from sitting in the same position for hours on end. He had mechanically eaten whatever had been set on the desk next to him by his house elf, Dobby. Twisting his neck around to relieve the crick, he saw that it was dark outside. Surprised, he checked his watch.

11:43 P.M.

Realizing that he had been in the same position for over nine hours without relieving himself, Harry rushed off to use the toilet. When he got back, Hedwig, his snowy white owl familiar was still on her perch, glaring balefully at him. Harry bristled. "Don't look at me like that!" he snapped. He leveled a finger accusingly at her. "You were just as absorbed in that book, and you can't even read."

The owl ruffled her feathers and hooted at him.

"You could have let me know you were hungry you know," Harry shot back. He left the room to fetch Hedwig a fresh mouse and when he had returned, Hedwig hooted apologetically at him.

"I'm sorry too, girl," he said stroking her feathers as he held the mouse to her. "I shouldn't have neglected you."

As Hedwig plucked the dead rodent off his palm, Harry couldn't suppress his smirk. Had someone walked in on the conversation he and his owl just had, they would have thought that he and Hedwig were able to talk to one another. And they would be correct to a point. Harry and Hedwig could read each others emotions and thoughts.

It was more than the simple familiar bond that he and Hedwig had formed when the first met. A month into his sixth year, their new potions teacher, a man by the name of Horace Slughorn had them brewing a potion that was used to give owls their messenger abilities. The Slytherins, angry that Harry had succeeded so well without Snape breathing down his neck, had decided to sabotage his potion. One of them, Harry still wasn't sure who had disillusioned a pile of feathers and owl pellets (the regurgitated bones and fur) and then levitated them into his simmering potion. The potion had reacted badly and exploded in his face, and Harry ended up in a coma.

When Harry awoke over a week later, he was an owl. Well…an owl animagus, specifically an eagle owl. The potion had somehow forced his form and given him the ability to communicate with his familiar telepathically while in his human form. Slughorn had been at a loss as to why, but Harry didn't care. He was an animagus now, and he had managed to skip out on all the hard parts.

After stroking Hedwig's feathers a few more times, Harry let her eat in peace. He went back to the desk with the intention of closing the book and re-shelving it before heading to bed, but something caught his eye. The next spell in the book was preceded by a warning…

Warning: Use the following spell at your own risk. The author of this book claims no responsibility for any damage caused to the caster or premises when the spell is utilized. Nor does the author claim responsibility for the well being of the caster should the spell be cast at the wrong time.

Harry's eyebrows rose in interest. Spells that people often warned him against were, in his opinion, some of the most interesting. He decided to put the book away after reading about this spell. Thirty minutes later, Harry could hardly think about sleeping. The spell was a way of opening a gateway to other worlds.

Harry had a television set and had managed to ward it against magic thought it wasn't easy by any stretch. Getting satellite reception to a house that was as heavily warded as Harry's had been a challenge as well, but Harry had done it. He had been determined if for one reason and one reason alone.

He was hooked on a show called Stargate SG: 1.

Now he would have his own chance to visit other worlds and he wasn't about to pass up this opportunity.

Hedwig had finished her mouse and started to read over Harry's shoulder when he jumped up and shouted, "I'm going to do it!" Hedwig screeched at him and flapped over to perch on the fireplace mantle. "Sorry Hedwig," he said sheepishly.

He hurried from the room before a mental question from the owl had him coming back in. "Oh, sorry," he berated himself before explaining. "I'm going to use that spell to see other worlds. Would you like to come?"

Hedwig looked back at him as if to say, "Are you stupid? Of course I'm coming with," which she probably did say.

Harry laughed and shrugged. "Sorry, silly question."

Harry found his trunk in the room he had claimed. It had been the guest room in the modest three bedroom house. It would have been creepy sleeping in his parent's room and Harry didn't think he could withstand the psychological torture of sleeping in the same room his mother died in. He avoided the living room, where his father died, for that same reason and primarily stuck to the kitchen, the study and his room. Quickly, he packed everything he thought might come in useful in another world. He stuffed a few useful books in there, including his own personal spell book with spells he and he alone could cast. He was surprised at just how easy it was to create your own spells. Simply modifying the arithmantic equations on an existing spell might create something completely different and arithmancy was nothing more than wizarding math.

One of his favorite spells was a modification on a disillusionment charm that would 'bend' the light around you making you effectively invisible, even more so than a regular disillusionment charm. With the regular charm, a person would appear as a very dim hazy outline but would still be hard to spot. Even Mad-eye's magic eye couldn't spot Harry when he was under his spell. It was the secret to his successful hermitage. Yet another spell was a modification on the normal stunner. He had modified it so that only his enervate would wake a person prematurely and it would decimate anyone's shield. Harry had nicknamed it the 'shield eater'. The last in the list was an anti gravity 'bubble' of sorts that needed to be cast around a ward stone. Harry would then use a switching spell on something he was targeting, activate the ward and wave 'goodbye' as the target floated away.

These three spells were his favorites since they were what he defeated Voldemort with. It was absurdly simple. Invisible, he had crept up on the dark lord during a raid. Voldemort knew he was at the raid, since he was linked to Harry through the scar, but he didn't know where exactly he was. Harry waited until he was right up on the dark lord and used his modified stunner on the monster. Then, he simply used a permanent sticking charm to adhere the ward stone to Voldemort, activated it and waved 'goodbye' as he floated away. Harry didn't know if Voldemort was dead per say, but he did know that the dark lord wasn't coming back any time soon. And the scar pain had stopped.

Next in the trunk was his invisibility cloak. As nice as his spell was, if someone knew somehow that he was there, the spell could still be removed with a simple finite incantatum. The cloak couldn't. Following the cloak were spare clothing, his Firebolt (always handy to be able to fly), and a magic pouch full of every galleon to his name. Just before his self-exile, he had everything he had pulled from Gringott's Bank. The goblins weren't happy about it, as they were losing literally billions of galleons in potential profit, but Harry didn't care. He needed money to live, and a hermit couldn't very well waltz into town and make a withdrawal. All the Potter family artifacts were housed safely in the vault at the well protected, long lost and hidden Potter Manor.

He was taking the galleons and only the galleons with him for one reason. Gold is universally valuable. He was sure that any society that he encountered would need or covet the gold and having a few thousand tons of gold with him would be handy. The last thing to go in the trunk was the photo album he had been given in his early years at Hogwarts. After that, he shrunk the trunk and pocketed it.

Hurrying back into the study where Hedwig was still waiting, Harry picked up the book he had been reading. He skimmed the passages for what he needed, ignoring anything that didn't seem relevant at the time. Finally memorizing the wand movements and the very long incantation Harry got ready. The first step was to draw a rune circle using talcum powder or salt. Harry didn't know if there was any talc in the house, but Dobby had been a little over abundant on the last shopping trip and Harry had salt. Harry had enough salt to last him for about ten years actually…

While sprinkling the salt in the required pattern and shaping the runes, Harry wondered what he would see. He wasn't worried about coming across an airless world since he could cast a bubble head charm, but he was a bit worried about any world with caustic atmospheres. Still, he knew a few spells that could protect him, and his travel cloak was warded to protect him against minor atmosphere discomfort. His broom would get him wherever he needed to go. Food…

He needed food. He wouldn't know any of the plants on most of the worlds he visited so a food supply would be a good idea. Plus, he needed to take care of Dobby. No where in the instructions for the ritual did it say it couldn't be interrupted, so he called for the excitable little elf.

Dobby appeared with a loud crack. "Master Harry Potter calls for Dobby?"

Harry sighed. "I told you to call me Harry, Dobby. Just Harry."

Dobby nodded. "Yes Master Harry. What can Dobby do for you?"

Harry sighed again, this time rubbing a hand down his face. He supposed that being called 'Master Harry' was as good as it would get from the elf. That and it didn't matter much since he was leaving anyway. "I'm going on a trip Dobby, and I need you to do something for me." Dobby nodded so eagerly that his ears actually flapped. "I need you to load up my refrigerator (Harry enchanted it to work like a wooden chill box) with everything you can think of for an extended camping trip."

Dobby looked crestfallen. "Master Harry no longer wants Dobby?" he asked with shimmering eyes. Before Harry had a chance to clarify himself, the elf broke down in tears. "Dobby had been a bad elf! Dobby will punish himself now!"

As soon as Dobby made to bash his head against the corner of Harry's desk, Harry grabbed him. "No Dobby! No, you've been wonderful," he soothed the writhing elf. Dobby stilled.

"Does Master Harry mean that?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes Dobby, I do. What I need you to do is go to Hogwarts and ask Professor McGonagall for your old job back until I get back from my trip. I'm sure she'll give it to you."

While Dobby was in the kitchen stuffing everything he could get into the refrigerator, Harry gathered the rest of what he just remembered he might need. He gathered any toiletries, a towel (a muggle book he had read told him to always have a good clean towel), and some toilet paper. He figured he could conjure anything else he needed but only as a last resort. His conjuration wasn't that good. Lastly, he packed the book in his trunk with the rest of his stuff and waited on Dobby.

Finally Dobby came staggering into the room hefting the entire refrigerator in his tiny arms. "Dobby is done, Master Harry," the elf wheezed.

"Merlin's hairy balls!" Harry swore. He levitated the appliance off of Dobby and the elf collapsed in a grateful heap. "I could have come get it," he scolded gently.

Dobby gasped from the plush red carpet. "Nonsense. Master Harry is…a great wizard…Dobby can do…what Master Harry needs…"

Harry couldn't hold in his chuckle, especially at Hedwig's scathing remark. He threw a tepid glare her way that she discretely ignored. "Go to Hogwarts now Dobby. And thank you for everything."

Dobby would have made an effort to hug Harry's legs had he not been so burned out. "Master Harry…is a great wizard. Dobby will see you soon…" And with that he cracked away from his prone, facedown position on the carpet. Harry shrunk the refrigerator and put it in his trunk then re-shrunk his trunk. Harry just shook his head at Dobby then turned toward Hedwig.

"Ready to go girl?" he asked. Hedwig flew over and perched on his shoulder, butting her head softly against Harry's in a show of affection. She almost never nipped his ear or finger anymore, instead making physical or eye contact. Harry took her answer as a yes.

With one last check to make sure everything was right, Harry began the incantation and wand movement. It was complex, but he was certain he had gotten it right. He knew it was right when a magical wind picked up, and it was strong enough to lift the desk and bookcases in the room and start spinning them around Harry and Hedwig. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this…

Suddenly, lightning began to strike up from the edges of the rune circle and make scorch marks on the ceiling. Hedwig screeched and dug her talons into Harry's shoulder painfully. Harry agreed with her rather panicked statement. Time to get out of the circle. He stepped out of the circle as quickly as possible…

Or at least tried to. He might as well have been trying to walk through a brick wall, and not the one separating 9 ¾ from the rest of Kings Cross Station. He staggered back, nearly unseating Hedwig. "Well…" he said. His voice was flat. "What now?" Hedwig scooted closer to Harry's head and leaned against it. She was scared. Harry felt bad that he was doing this to her and scooped the bird into his arms to better protect her. He was glad he did.

What he could only describe as a black hole opened above his head and began to draw the lightning into it. The electricity was coming dangerously closer to him and he couldn't move lest he- There it was. One of the lighting bolts arced through him, entering his right buttock and exiting Hedwig's open, screeching beak. Harry felt his consciousness slipping away and the last thing he remembered was the black hole moving down and enveloping him.


When Harry awoke with a headache and one thing on his mind; he now had a new least favorite form of magical travel. It used to be floo. Not only did floo make him nauseous from the spinning, but when he emerged from the fireplace on the other end, he was filthy and sprawled on his ass. Portkeys weren't too bad over all. He could never stick the landing but at least the discomfort was minor. This new form of travel not only made you sick, but it struck you with lightning. That was pretty bad in Harry's book. Now if he could just figure out why exactly he was still in his house. He was in his bed looking at the canopy to be precise.

Harry sat up slowly, favoring his left butt cheek. The right one was still felt burned from the lightning bolt. His back hurt something awful and his mouth felt like he had eaten half the salt he used in the spell. Add those to the headache and he vowed that he would never use that teleport spell ever again. Finally he managed to open his eyes.

"Welcome home, Master Potter!"

The sudden trio of voices nearly scared Harry out of his skin. He shot out from underneath his blankets and planted his back against the headboard of the bed while reaching for his wand. Unfortunately, he had ended up in just his boxers somehow and his wand was nowhere within reach. Then he noticed his attackers. A trio of house elves was standing at the foot of his bed looking at him with the same look that Dobby usually had in his eyes. One of them, the smallest was female and all of them were dressed in tea towels with the Potter crest on it.

None of them were familiar to Harry. "Th-thanks?" he stuttered. It came out as more of a question.

The youngest male spoke up. "We never thought we would be seeing you again since…" he trailed off and seemed to glance at the corners of the room as if searching for eavesdroppers. He then went on in a whisper. "That night…"

The tallest and obviously eldest of, if his wrinkly skin and wispy white hair were any indication, the trio glared at the other male. Harry had to admit that it looked fairly intimidating. "Quiet, Wiggy!" he scolded. Harry's mental note pad was a bit singed, but he tried anyway. The small male is Twiggy. "You knows better than to talks about that night."

Wiggy cringed away from the angry elder elf. "Wiggy is sorry Rumpo sir." He pleaded. "Please do not be making Wiggy shut his hands in the oven."

Harry added to his mental note. The old elf is Rambo.

Rumpo seemed to soften. "There will be no punishments today," he said before turning and smiling at Harry. "Master Potter is home."

"Uh…thanks." Harry said lamely. From what he could gather, these were his elves somehow. "Ok, I know Twiggy, and Rambo, but who is she?" he asked pointing at the demure female elf.

Wiggy and Rumpo seemed a bit put out by Harry's butchery of their names, but introduced the fourth party anyway. "She be Soxy, Master Potter." Harry nodded at the elf and she blushed.

Twiggy, Rambo and Sucky. What horrid names for elves, Harry mused. Then a more pressing need than memorizing his elves names hit him. He needed to get rid of his headache and get some moisture in his mouth. "Ok. I need four things," he said. The elves snapped to attention, eager to please him. Harry paused and added something else to his list. "First, none of this Master Potter crap. I'm just Harry." The elves nodded. "Second, I need the stuff that was in my clothes. Third, my clothes. Fourth and most importantly, a glass of water and a headache relief potion if you have one."

As the elves popped away, Harry realized that he had forgotten a cauldron and potion ingredients. It didn't matter now, since the spell hadn't worked. It just hurt him and…Hedwig! Where was his owl?

The elves popped back and Harry gratefully downed the water and the potion, sighing in relief when his headache faded. Rumpo put his tiny trunk and wand, which looked like it was brand new on the night stand next to him. He looked back at the elves to ask where Hedwig was, but noticed Rumpo looking like his mother just died, and Twiggy looked like he needed to pee. It usually meant he had a question but didn't just want to blurt it. He decided to address the old elf first. "What's wrong…uh…Rambo?"

"Rumpo," the old elf corrected miserably. "Rumpo is a bad elf. Rumpo could not fix Master Harry's clothes." The elf held out the tattered remains of what Harry had cast the spell in. Harry was a bit put out that his environmental cloak had been charred and shredded, but he knew the runes and could make another.

"That's fine Rumpo," he placated, making sure to get the old elf's name right. "I have more clothes. Thank you for my wand and trunk." Rumpo looked like he was about to burst into tears and began muttering about how 'he hadn't been thanked since the mistress', and how 'Master Harry was a great wizard'. Harry wondered just why he had that effect on house elves.

He then turned to Wiggy. "Wiggy was it?" He asked. Wiggy nodded quickly and Harry rolled his eyes. "Ask…"

Wiggy blurted out his question. "Who is the pretty lady you arrived with?" he asked almost too quickly to understand.

Two things stood out in the question to Harry. First, what lady? Second, arrived? Had he actually gone somewhere? He decided to ask first question for now. He was most worried about Hedwig. "What lady?" he voiced. "I had an owl with me, if that's who you mean." He glanced at Soxy who blushed deeply and looked away. Great, Ginny as a house elf…

Wiggy shook his head quickly hurried over to the side of the bed. "Come Master Harry. Wiggy shows you." He said excitedly. With out any preamble, he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him down the hall to his parent's room. As he left his room, he was able to make out subtle differences. For one, the house smelled stale, like it had been kept clean but not lived in for a very long time. Two, none of his personal touches were around. There were feathers from his owl form that he used as slight decorative touches around his house. Cho had called it a version of feng-shui. It made it feel more like his home, but the feathers were gone. Granted, the elves could have cleaned them, but he was getting a very bad feeling about this. But before he could really take anything in, he was in his parent's room looking at a very nice sight on their bed.

There was a very attractive girl lying there, only a sheet covering the fact that she was very naked. At first, Harry thought she was a Veela, or at least part Veela, but then he noticed the lack of an aura. Her long hair was so blonde it was almost white, but then again, it might just be the lighting of the room. Her skin was a soft peach color and looked very smooth. The sheets were clinging so closely to her that Harry could tell she was hairless…everywhere but her head. And she had breasts that were just perfect to Harry; not too big, not too small. She muttered something in her sleep and turned over, the sheet sliding off of her and giving Harry and the elves a very nice view of her pert bum.

Harry swallowed thickly. There was something very familiar about this girl…

"This is the girl Wiggy tells you about, sir," Wiggy said softly so as not to wake her.

"I…don't know here. At least I don't think I do," Harry said equally soft. "I had an owl with me. Snowy white, yellow eyes. About this big." He held his hands about two feet apart.

The elves all shook their heads. "No owl," Soxy said, speaking up for the first time. Harry looked her in the eyes and she blushed but stoically maintained eye contact. If Harry had to guess, Soxy was very young, probably teenage for an elf. "Just the girl." She reached up as high as she could, holding a small, white feather in her hands. She only reached up about three feet. "The girl had this in her hair. Soxy saved it. Maybe girl eat owl?"

"Thank you," Harry said as he took the feather from the tiny elf and looked at it. It was definitely one of Hedwig's feathers. That could only mean…

He looked back at the girl who finally stirred and sat up in the bed. She seemed disoriented and woozy as she glanced about the room and Harry could see now that her hair was snowy white. His eyes however were drawn to two things; her yellow eyes and her now bare breasts. He forced himself to look back up into the girl's bright yellow eyes, dreading what would happen next. "Hedwig?" he asked.

The girl focused on Harry, her face lighting up in recognition. She nearly fell out of the bed in her haste to get over to him and staggered drunkenly across the floor before throwing her arms around his neck happily. She cooed and nuzzled the side of his face with her cheek.

"Oh boy…"