A/N and Disclaimers: This is my first fic so constructive criticism only please...and please offer it because I know I need it! I own nothing, except what develops from the idea since the original concept I got from AlexMcpherson (who gave me permission to use it). I would also like to thank Bobmin for the inspiration behind the first scene and for giving her permission for use of the first couple of paragraphs. I do not own Harry Potter or Stargate, HP belongs to JKR and Stargate belongs to MGM and whoever else...not really sure to be honest. Direct excerpts from the show will occur in some cases especially in the beginning since Harry hasn't had a chance to effect anything yet...
Many thanks to AlexMcpherson for the use of the general idea and to all of the other authors that have inspired some of my ideas and concepts, if you spot something and I forgot to mention it let me know, since I want to give credit where its due.
HP is cannon until the end of book five and Stargate is cannon until the middle beginning of season 3, just before the episode Seth ...
If anyone is interested in being my beta or in bouncing ideas, message me, since I know I'll need one. This is primarily a Harry Potter/Stargate Cross, but I reserve the right to have other crosses in the future if it fits...don't worry though, I'll make sure they fit. Just a warning you will learn more about what happened in the war in the future, so don't fret if you are a little confused with what happened to some of the main characters...so on with the show!
Just edited and reposted this chapter trying to fix some verb tense issues. The new chapter should be up tonight or tomorrow once I've given it another good look through. Cheers!
Number 12 Grimmauld Place…
Harry looked out the window of the library of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, sipped a rather large glass of aged fire whiskey, and felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was used to the feeling. What he wasn't used to was the gaping hole where his heart had once been. It was the day before Christmas Eve of his seventh year and Voldemort has been dead almost two months.
If it was only Voldemort who'd died, then Harry might still be celebrating. But his hadn't been the only death. Dumbledore, Hermione, Bill, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Tonks, Remus, Flitwick, a third of the student body of Hogwarts, 43 American Aurors from the contingent the American's sent as aid, several ministry aurors he had been able to recruit, all of Tom's death eaters and many of their families. The list went on and on.
The final battle had lasted all day and it had pitted every Ministry Auror he could convince to support Hogwarts, a 200 American auror contingent and every member of the Order of the Phoenix against the Death Eaters. Harry sighed and fought to keep the tears from flowing again. He had cried once, only briefly, when he had found Hermione's body after the battle. She had been one of the only people who loved him for who and what he was, rather than the legend he had become. He had knelt next to her broken body and shed the only tears in public since he was a child. He was used to crying alone, although he fought that as well. He loved her, so much so he had intended to court her after the war.
Well, that's not going to happen now, he thought bitterly.
Harry lifted a silver chain from the side table and placed it around his neck. Reaching for another sip from his glass of whiskey his mind turned to the contents of that chain. Attached to the chain was his shrunken warlock's trunk. It had multiple compartments, all his possessions and all of his money, what the ministry and the Prophet had recently called the Blood Fortune.
After coming of age, Harry had to spend a few days with the Goblins of Gringotts going over his finances. He knew about the Potter and Black Fortunes from some discussions with Sirius and Remus. What he was unprepared for were the other fortunes that he had inherited at the time. Some accounts, both small and large, were from crazy old codgers or crones whom lost their families in the first war. After reading their wills it was obvious they thought the bequeath was the best way to say "thank you" for avenging their loved ones. Other accounts were inherited due to the most tenuous of blood ties.
While the first war had been bloody, the second had been more so. Entire families were wiped out, leaving their belongings to the closest head of family. Since many of the older families and their less well known cadet branches intermarried, a few families both from the light and the dark ended up inheriting massive fortunes in what the goblins believed to be the largest consolidation of wealth since the formation of the original families whom founded the Ministry.
The Goblins, they had been a bit of a surprise to Harry. From what Binns and the Ministry preached, any behavior other than greed and violence would be a surprise. But since when has he ever been able to have faith in what the ministry say's he thought bitterly.
The Goblins had proven themselves to be invaluable financial advisors. Unable to break their neutrality in the war, but knowing what would happen should Harry loose, they deftly managed his finances and offered advice they would not give to any but the most select humans they believe would help protect their rights.
Consequently, after the final battle, Harry's fortune grew to encompass about 76% of Gringott's entire deposit base, and that's not counting the kegs of both cut and uncut precious jewels found in the vaults or the Muggle stocks and currency he had liquidated into just over 80000 tons of gold and another 20000 of platinum. It really surprised him at the time, how many of the hard line pureblood families had significant investments in the muggle world. Before the slow liquidation of his muggle shares he owned significant voting blocks in many of the top fortune 500 companies. He always found it highly ironic how the death eaters and other pure bloods could have such loathing for the very source of the income that provided for their lavish life styles and a majority of their wealth.
Wealth, he pondered as he took another sip, something he never yearned for or wanted. He had read once in some magazine his account manager subscribed him to to educate him in finance that you could never have too much money. He had enough to start his own country, yet he would trade it all for five minutes with his parents or Sirius, or Hermione. He never understood greed and how those who had so much in his mind were never satisfied with what they had. Ron...he quickly redirected his thoughts away from that sore subject like he had been doing constantly over the last 2 months and brought to mind the Goblin's utter shock when he started to exercise his plan one month before.
The day had been bright, crisp and brisk. One of the first such days of the burgeoning winter season. Despite the chill in the air, the atmosphere in the ally was still celebratory. Yet as he stepped away from the apparation point near the Leaky Caldron and continued on in the direction of Gringotts the wizards and witches around him all gave the man in the black cloak with his hood up a wide berth. He always had to hide himself in public these days. First it was to avoid the stares of awe, envy or fear he received directly after the defeat of Voldemort, but now it was to avoid either the direct hostility of the public or their outright fear of him. Ever since the Ministry under Scrimgour's ineptitude began to once again smear his name in an effort to boost the Ministry's, and more importantly the Minister's, reputation the fickle public had once again started to turn against Harry. It began slowly, about a week and a half after the end of Voldemort with the release of the prophecy to the public. After the initial relief brought about by the end of Voldemort, people who lost loved ones to the Dark Lord began to criticize him for not ending the war more quickly.
Both the Ministry, and those that were left who still supported the pure blood agenda, saw their opportunity to pounce. Quickly, more and more articles were printed in the Prophet, first asking questions about his delay in defeating Voldemort, then pointing out the wealth he gained during the war, and most recently, they have been emphasizing how many people he killed both leading up to and in the final battle, conveniently omitting the people killed were death eaters and not "noble and powerful people" who opposed his views. He knew it was only a matter of time before the grumblings of him being an aspiring dark lord would begin, if they hadn't already. He knew it was only a matter of time before those like Scrimgeour and his ilk will succeed in convincing the public that he is not only a murderer but a threat that cannot be left with such vast resources. There were very few in the ministry, the Minister unfortunately not one of them, that did not covet and desire even a small percentage of his fortune and consequently, he knew the time for his next great adventure was fast approaching.
He gave his head a slight shake to stop himself from woolgathering and to bring his mind to focus as he passed the massive outer doors to Gringotts. If he is to gain the Goblin's aid in his preparations, he needs to stay sharp. Giving the standing Goblin guards a slight head nod he continues past the middle and inner doors and quickly makes his way through the center of the massive hall to the current shifts Head Goblin.
After waiting over a minute and being rewarded for his patience when the Goblin finished his writing and raised his head to reveal a raised eyebrow and a closed mouth, friendly for a goblin, smile. "Greetings honorable Goblin, I have urgent business to discuss with King Ragnok, if you could please review this letter and relay the contents to him post haste, I would be most thankful" Harry began in flawless gobblygook.
Maintaining eye contact as was dictated by Goblin decorum, Harry was once again glad for all of the training he received over the last year and a half. After the death of his godfather, he made a deal with Dumbledore regarding preparations for the war. There began the most intense physical and magical training of his life by not only Dumbledore, but other leaders of their fields, like Professor Flitwick, the Flemels and even Mad Eye Moody. Transfiguration, Charms, dueling, Defensive and Offensive Magic, Potions, Runes, Arithmancy, ward making and breaking, Alchemy, Occlumency and Legilimency, you name it, he studied it. The biggest breakthrough in his training however, was Nicholas Flemel's discovery of the Horcrux in Harry's scar. They discovered that the foul fraction of the dark lord's soul stuck in his forehead not only blocked a large part of his core, but also drastically inhibited his mind due to the constant battle his mind and magic had been waging against the Horcrux over the course of his life. After Nicholas' wife Perenelle devised a method of safe removal, Harry immediately noticed the change in both his power and his clarity of thought. He began to soak up anything that he read or was taught at an unheard of speed due to an eidetic memory and his ability to quickly master his own mind through Occlumency. Nicholas hypothesized that Harry's body and mind both adapted during its battle against the Horcrux by expanding both his magical core and brain utilization. Perenelle commented that this could be the power mentioned in the prophesy. Consequently, when Nicholas taught Harry about the Goblin's customs and language, Harry had been able to pick it up quite quickly which was fortunate, because without it he knew he would likely not accomplish anything he set out to do today. He was once again pulled from his thoughts, this time by the Goblin's curt reply in the same languege.
"That is a highly unusual request, a request that even with your use of our tongue, you are unlikely to be granted wizard."
Quickly spotting and reading the Goblin's name plate, Harry began his prepared pitch should he encounter these roadblocks. "Honorable clutch leader Roughfang, I beg you read the letter and if necessary consult with my Account Manager, the honorable Bonebraker, before you deny my request outright. Our business today will have far reaching consequences for both of our races which necessitates the inclusion of his highness in addition to my account manager in these proceedings. Should after hearing my request, his highness believe his presence unnecessary or undesirable, I will of course pay the traditional penalties."
The Goblin abruptly straightened with surprise almost losing his balance in his chair. Few wizards can speak the goblin language even close to fluently, and those that can are most likely considered friends by the goblins. While this status does not bring with it any form of diplomatic protection, or even better than standard interest rates which is the most common belief, it does usually ensure the wizard gets the best advice the goblins can offer at the time, forewarning when businesses that the Goblins themselves cannot own a majority of comes up for sale at a favorable price, and finally, what Harry considers the most beneficial to himself at this time and in the near future, more patience than would normally be given to a wizard who makes such strange requests. Knowing the language is the only reason the Goblin is still willing to talk to him, but his last comment about paying the traditional penalties should hopefully get the letter and my account manager in the presence of the king. Should this occur, there is a good chance the King will be willing to hear my case personally, which would be best for all parties involved, himself, the Goblins, and the few members of the wizarding world still alive who he trusts that share his views. Very few "friends" of the Goblin nation have been in the presence of, let alone conducted business directly with, the king in the last 600 years or so. And only those who are given such an audience are informed about the traditional one million galleon penalty for being granted an audience and in the King's view, wasting the king's time. While many would view such a penalty as obscene, his last bank statement informed him he had over 12.4 billion Galleons in the bank, so in the unlikely event the King does believe Harry's wasting his time, the one million galleon fine would be a drop in the bucket.
Harry was beginning to grow frustrated at the Goblin's lack of response. He was sitting on his chair, behind his desk staring at Harry, either with calculating eyes at the mention of Bonebreaker, or in shock. It's hard to read such nuances in a goblin's facial expressions. Harry knew all Goblin's were well aware Bonebreaker oversaw the expanded Potter Fortune and that as a result he had just identified himself to the goblin; he was also well aware all Goblin's had an idea of how large the expanded Potter Fortune was so that Roughfang now new without a doubt he could pay the penalty should the need arise. He was also beginning to wish the strict rules and oaths the account managers of the large accounts operate under didn't prevent his account manager from setting up this meeting himself which Harry had no doubt would have been much less difficult.
After asking his account manager about that very rule his manager managed to tell him more Goblin history in ten minutes than he learned from Binns in six and a half years. Apparently about 600 years ago, the king of that time, tired of all of the pompous Wizards demanding his presence and wasting his time passed a law that brought to life not only the one million galleon penalty, but also prevented any account manager from petitioning for the kings time directly, relieving the account managers of the outside pressure provided by their clients and ensuring a Goblin with no financial connection to the wizard in question makes the decision regarding the audience.
Finally, after no less that 3 minutes of staring, the Goblin sighs, picks up the letter, and responds with a quick "very well" before signaling Harry to follow him down a side hall to what he recognizes as his account manager's office.
After knocking and opening the door, Harry follows Roughfang into Bonebraker's office, and after reading the letter, having a hushed conversation with Bonebraker and beckoning Bonebraker to accompany him, leaves harry to his thoughts alone in his account manager's office.
"There is so much that needs to be done" Harry tells himself. Returning to a habit he picked up early in his training due to Hermione's influence, he reviews the list in his head.
He needs to make copies of all the books in his large collection. "There is no reason why those I trust should be denied the knowledge I'm taking with me." he comments to himself.
He needs to complete the sale of all of his muggle properties and investments. "I need to make sure I do this slowly otherwise I could crash the market"
He needs to sell all of the various magical residences, businesses, investments and properties let alone all of the unnecessary duplicate magical items he inherited. Who needs 264 magical trunks or 347 Wizarding Wireless sets, 220 gobstone sets, 47 invisibility cloaks, or 12 pensives and other such items, sure, he wanted to have one, a backup and maybe even a backup for the backup, but that many is just unnecessary..."well maybe with the exception of the invisibility cloaks and the pensives, those it might make sense to hold onto..." he continues mumbling to himself.
This will all be much easier if the Goblin's agree to aid him...the door suddenly opens causing him to quickly rise from his chair at the site of a Goblin wearing the uniform of the Royal Guard...
The negotiations had gone better than he had expected. Setting up a shell company that contained all he wanted sold, then selling what percentage he could to the Goblins under the guidelines provided by the current treaty between the Ministry and the Goblins and the rest to a group of friends that were in some cases, either financed by him or the Goblins, proved to be far easier than he thought it would. After giving his oath never to do so in this universe, the Goblins even removed the charms and wards on all of his Galleons that prevents them from being melted down, just in case he finds himself in a place without Gringotts or Goblins they said. Sure, the Goblins took their fair share in their various transactions, but despite what the Ministry or Binns preach to the wizarding world, they took no more than what was fare. The irony of his situation wasn't lost on him as he gazed at the headline of the afternoon special edition of the Daily Prophet while taking another sip of his whiskey. How funny the Ministry turned out to be the very greedy beasts that they claimed the goblins to be.
The Wizengamot Votes for
Arrest of Dark Lord Potter!
By Rita Skeeter
This morning in a move that many including this reporter believe is long overdue, the Wizengamot has finally ordered the arrest of Harry Potter, the recent defeater of He-must-not-be-named and the murderer of many upstanding families and citizens. Along with this arrest order, an order of seizer of all Potter assets for the payment of restitution and damages to aggrieved parties will be carried out. When asked for comment, Delores Umbridge, senior undersecretary for Minister Scrimgeour had this to say: "Its about time the Wizengamot acted against this latest threat to our world. While there is little doubt Potter helped the ministry's forces defeat you-know-who, multiple ministry witnesses, including the Minister himself witnessed Potter taking the lives of many respected wizards during the final battle..."
It was fortunate his preparations were concluded the week before. The holding company was already in place and no longer in his name. All of his vaults were empty except for two sickles and a note addressed to the minister himself. And finally, the Goblin's themselves, along with all of his trusted allies were ready to rebel if need be since in its greed the ministry failed to realize the final consequences of this gambit. The forced seizer of his vaults not only violated the most recent goblin treaty, but his removal of said funds also depleted the bank's deposit base by over 76%, and this combined with the holding company's hold on almost all of the wizarding worlds major businesses, will no doubt crash the wizarding economy and cause significant hardship for all those except the most prepared, which were his previously mentioned allies and of course the Goblins. As he finished the article, and was alerted by the wards to his expected guest, he couldn't help but show a grim smile. Padfoot would definitely agree that his revenge against the Ministry, against the sheep was truly masterful.
As he walked into the library of his new London townhouse Neville Longbottom couldn't help but shiver at the grim smile on his friend Harry Potter's face as he placed an empty whiskey glass on the end table and put down the very newspaper article they had both been waiting for. Calling out a greeting which was quickly returned, Harry quickly got down to business.
"Everything is set Neville. All that is left is transferring the wards of this place over to you."
As he heard this Neville once again realized he had no chance of talking Harry out of making what he had begun to call "the jump." It was discovered in an extremely old and well warn book in the Flamel's library. Nicholas had told them he believed the book once belonged to Merlin himself. It discussed a theory involving alternate universes. The book postulated that these universes existed due to different choices made by people over the course of his or her life. Consequently, the book indicated that there were not only infinite realities, but that there was a way for a magical being to travel between them. The book does not indicate whether it had been done before, but did give a grave warning about both the nature and the finality of the journey. Because of the infinite number of realities, there was no magical way to pick a single reality to travel to, nor was there a way to return to your own reality. Finally the book stated that the reader must be aware that again because of the infinite number of realities, there would no doubt be a few realities in which magic as practiced in this reality, would not exist. It was this warning that concerned Neville the most.
Yet whenever he or anyone else brought it up with Harry, he would just respond with "I know how to live in the muggle world better than I know how to live in the magical world. Regardless of that, would you seriously want to continue living in a world where you are either viewed in awe like some kind of god figure or messiah, or as some deranged and dangerous freak of a dark lord? Besides so long as the wizarding world has me as a safety net and to polarize around, nothing will change."
After reading the long awaited article, and thinking about it again, Neville could see his point of view. Knowing Harry better than anyone still living, Neville knew Harry wanted nothing more than to find a decent career, find a nice girl, get married, have a family and live a life away from the spot light the wizarding world seemed obsessed with focusing on him. The prospect of either being hounded and praised or hunted for the rest of his life would probably make "the jump" very appealing to him as well.
As the last of the wards were transferred over to Neville and the last of his letters were handed over to Neville to pass on, Harry called to Hedwig who glided to his shoulder from a nearby bookshelf, and with Neville trailing him made his way out of the Library to a room he knew was the only nonmagically enhanced or displaced room in this magical household, the drawing room. While the use of such a room was not specified in the book, he was taking the warning about magic in alternate universes very seriously. No need to arrive in some wall or something if I land in this house and its not magical he thought to himself.
After a final manly hug and back slap with his good friend, Harry, with Hedwig on his shoulder stepped into the ritual circle and began the chant he had memorized and practiced.
Watching from behind a shield, Neville could feel the magic building up before a bright blue light quickly engulfed the entire circle. And then as the chant reached its crescendo, the light quickly rose up consuming Harry before just as quickly retreating back leaving nothing but a burnt circled on the drawing room floor.
After staring at the circle for a minute, Neville turned slowly after feeling a soft tug on his trousers. Looking down at Harry's elf friend that he had so recently promised to take care of, he asked, "Yes Dobby?
"Does Master Neville thinks the Great Harry Potter Sir mades its to his news home?"
"I think so Dobby, I really do think so" he reassured both himself and the elf. Seeing this does not appear to be enough for the elf continued, "Harry's crazy plans seem to have a way of always working themselves out, so I think he'll be just fine. Let's grab some dinner Dobby, and then we'll get started on making sure these last letters get delivered." As Neville turnd to leave with Dobby close on his heels to carry out his part in Harry's crazy plan he paused just by the door to take one more glance at the burnt floor whispering quietly, "Viva la Revolution, Harry, Viva la Revolution."
Little did he know that Harry's journey was just beginning.
Chapter 1- The Jump
P3X-459 about 2.5 miles from the stargate
"Carter, how long?" barked Colonel Jack O'Neill to Captain Samantha Carter, the second in command of his unit, SG-1, as she and Daniel Jackson made their way through the ancient ruins. The ruins on this surprisingly mild planet had been picked up by a UAV not more than 3 miles from the stargate. Since the recon drone had identified the writing on the ruins as that matching the ancients from Earnest's planet, SG-1 had been assigned the mission.
"Jack we just got here" respondd Daniel to the question.
"Three hours ago Danny, besides, I don't like the looks of that storm front coming in." Jack responded feeling a small gust of cool air hit his face.
"Indeed" responded Teal'c, the former First Prime of Apophis and now vital member and close friend of SG-1. He turned his stoic gaze toward the oncoming front just as a flash of lighting several miles away, in the general direction of the stargate, reached down to impact the earth.
"What's the big deal with these ruins anyway, they look just like all the other rocks you play with" O'Neill continued knowing full well that's not the case. Sometimes he just couldn't help winding Daniel up. It was just to entertaining on boring missions like this.
Turning toward her commanding officer the person the original question was intended for finally answered: "Sir, this is the first address from the list you entered into the DHD under the influence of the Ancient Repository that gave us a lock. Which means that..."
"the Goa'uld don't know about this rock" O'Neill cut her off.
Not deterred, Carter responded "yes sir, so there is a chance naquadah might be present in minable quantities in addition to this planet being a good candidate for an off-world base."
Nodding his head at the expected reply while keeping his eye on the fast moving storm he finally made a decision. "Danny, Carter, pack it up, we'll come back once the weather's cleared"
"No" O'Neill cut him off. "I'm not sitting through that storm with no cover just to give you more time with your rocks. They've been here for a while, they'll be here tomorrow."
Resigned, Daniel started to pack up, Carter doing the same. Both picked up the pace as they started to feel the first raindrops of what, from the look of the oncoming storm, will be a downfall. Just as they started out of the clearing the first of the hail begam as several flashes of lighting appeared across the sky, igniting some kind of auras in the atmosphere.
"Sir, that's not natural..." Sam started and then paused in shock, adding in almost a whisper, "that's not possible."
Jack looked where she had been looking, and in the distance, what appeared to be a black hole hung just below the lowest clouds without appearing to cause any kind of effect.
Just great Jack thought to himself while glancing over his shoulder at his team.
Stopping briefly to relieve Daniel of the heavier of his two packs to pass over to Teal'c he issued a quick "pick it up" to his team, realizing just after he said it that he needn't of bothered. They'd been together for over two years now, survived a lot of things they probably shouldn't have. It didn't take long for him to fully trust them. Something he believed he would never do again before the first Abydos mission. And now they were progressing at a fast jog in what he judged to be a damn good well spaced tactical diamond formation with him at the front and Teal'c bringing up the rear. By the time they were 200 meters from the Stargate the small pebble sized hale turned into marble size hale and the earlier squishing of their feet on soggy ground was replaced with the crunching of crushed hale. That combined with the rain, wind and lighting accompanying the hale pushed them from their fast jog to an outright run when it happened.
They felt a very brief change in the air around them, it felt like the air was charging itself with electricity for the briefest of moments before faster than any of them could react, lighting from three different directions, that from the corner of his eye appeared to originate from the black hole, struck the center of the diamond. Immediately they all fell to the ground away from the heat and charge produced by the lighting striking so close to them, Jack, Sam and Teal'c more gracefully than Daniel. It was as Jack was turning to make sure everyone was ok did he first catch a glimpse of the mound that suddenly appeared in the middle of his team.
"Everyone ok" he asked, and after glancing up seeing that the black hole in the clouds was no longer there quickly returned his eyes to what was, as the smoke cleared, quickly beginning to look a lot like a body on the ground.
After getting nods all around, and identifying the body to be a fully clothed dark haired male he took aim with his P-90. "Check him Carter."
"Yes sir." She sprung into action by raising her own P-90 and carefully approaching the body while both Daniel and Teal'c raised their weapons and shifted back and to the side slightly to be able to cover her.
As she approached Carter immediately noticed the 2 scorch marks on what appeared to be some type of leather duster. Surprisingly the jacket appeared to have survived its scorching, indicating that whatever the jacket this mystery man was wearing was far more durable than any leather jacket she had seen. When she got close enough she used her boot to flip him onto his back. She barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the young face that was revealed. He couldn't be over 18 years old. He was wearing glasses that were surprisingly intact. The only marks she could find on his face as she bent over to check his pulse was a faded scar in the shape of a lighting bolt just over his right eye-brow and what appeared to be the beginning of a long thin scar on the upper part of his right collar bone that was just peaking out of his vest covered collared shirt. Looking more carefully, the vest itself appeared to be some kind of body armor. She was not surprised that his skin was warm considering his method of arrival but was surprised to feel a steady, even if somewhat weak, pulse. "He's got a pulse sir, but its weak."
"Teal'c, give me a hand with him, Daniel, go dial the gate, Carter cover us." O'Neill ordered after hearing the lucky bastard was still alive. He had no desire to sit out here in this weather waiting for him to wake up despite both the black hole's disappearance and the common belief about lighting never striking the same spot twice. He was also curious not only how the boy was still alive after the lighting strike but also how the kid came to be here since there are no signs anyone has been to this planet in several thousand years, or so Daniel had indicated in the briefing. As he and Teal'c straightened up with the unconscious man between them, a white shape quickly dove out of the sky and lightly landed on the unconscious man's shoulder, startling both men. It only took Jack a second to identify the bird as a snowy owl.
"Crap, you, get out of here." Jack yelled at the owl while swinging his free arm toward it. Both he and Teal'c were astonished when the owl avoided his arm by lifting off of the man's shoulder while simultaneously cuffing him on the head with her wing. He quickly looked behind him at the sound of Carter's snort and caught Teal'c's single raised eyebrow as he returned his gaze back to the owl, which was glaring at him with both eyes, as if daring him to try that again.
"I believe this man is known to this avian O'Neill" Teal'c stated calmly after watching the standoff for over 5 seconds. As if in acknowledgement to Teal'c's comment, the owl produced a firm single hoot. Teal'c noticed both O'Neill and Captain Carter's eyes widen and jaws open at the apparent response the owl gave as he felt his other eyebrow join his previously raised brow.
As a particularly cold gust of wind washed over them O'Neill finally broke. "Whatever, we'll figure out the bird's connection to him when he wakes up."
After supporting the inert body along with the bird between himself and Teal'c, they quickly made their way the last 200 meters to the already dialing stargate. Daniel wasted no time and his GDO code was entered before the remainder of his team reaches the gate. After the green light was given, indicating that the protective iris covering earth's stargate was retracted, all four members of SG-1, their unconscious guest supported between himself and Teal'c, quickly made their way home through the open wormhole.
Stargate Command, Control Room
General George Hammond watched as the medical team came into the room from the left side entrance, pulling in the gurney while the iris swung open. Seconds later, Daniel steped through, followed quickly by Jack and Teal'c who appeared to be supporting an unconscious man between them that had, of all things, a white owl perched on his limp shoulder. He idly sighed in both in relief when Sam followed them through not a second later and in exasperation, knowing whatever SG-1 had gotten into will no doubt cause him lots of grief.
The Stargate was just shutting down automatically when he stepped into the gate room.
"Colonel?" he asked.
"Some real freaky weather sir...Carter?" Jack said turning to Sam.
"Sir, I don't know exactly what happened, but we got caught in a severe electrical and hail storm. We were about 200 meters from the gate when this kid just appeared on the ground...after a lightning strike."
"He just appeared?" Hammond asked with a frown.
"Yes sir." Carter answered, watching intently as the med team took the boy on the gurney out of the gate room.
Isolation room 2
Returning from being unconscious was not an unusual occurrence for Harry Potter. Over the years, he had developed what he considered to be a tried and true method of assessing not only his current health, but his current situation. First, the only pain he could feel at the moment, other than a small prick on his arm, was a throbbing headache. Second, he noticed he was no longer wearing his dragon hide battle duster, vest, boots and pants he remembered having on before falling unconscious. He couldn't quite remember why he was wearing such an outfit. Other than the more pliable yet less spell resistant under vest he tried to always wear under whatever shirt he had on, he only ever wore one of his full getups if he expected a fight. As this thought caused a slight niggling in his still groggy brain, he decided to come back to that point once his mind was further awake. Third, he felt a mattress underneath him, a sheet over him and he was definitely wearing some type of gown that was split down the back if the crease he felt under his back and butt were any indication, and finally his hands were not bound by anything. So he's not a prisoner wherever he was, either of the ministry, or of any death eater family member or pro death eater pureblood.
One, odds were he wouldn't be waking up at all if either of the latter two were the case, since it was pretty well known his previous escape from the death eaters, and Voldemort, was due to the Wandless magic he had mastered after the release of his core. He by no means could do everything without a wand, but most simple things, up to say 5th or 6th year he didn't have much of a problem with, which would pretty much prevent anyone from wanting to keep him conscious since it would be somewhat easy for him to escape. He's pretty sure the death eater responsible for waking him for a torture session ended up taking his place, but that was never confirmed.
Two, considering he wasn't waking up on a cold slab feeling the effects of a massive swarm of Dementors pretty much confirmed he was not in Ministry hands, since the last word from his contacts was that a special cell that was going to be literally surrounded by dementors in the heart of Azkaban awaited him should the Ministry's plans for him succeed.
As his ears begin to register a soft repeating electronic beeping noise, a distant memory came forward of his Cousin Dudley complaining about the gown with the open back the hospital made him wear when he had his appendix out a few years back. So he was in a muggle facility...then it quickly hit him.
The plan, and the jump. Was he successful? The book never mentioned passing out after the trip. Who found him, where was he moved to, what happened to Hedwig? Was she ok? As these thoughts quickly rushed into his mind he began to hear the beeping from the machine begin to increase in speed. Noticing the change and wanting to remain undisturbed at least for another few minutes, Harry calmed himself and began to extend his senses into his surroundings just as the Flamels had shown him. Knowing that using too much magic to sense his surroundings would likely damage the muggle machinery around him, and remembering the warning in the book about magic reacting differently in different universes, he carefully reached out lightly with his magic and his mind to see if any magical people or items were nearby and to figure out the general attitude of those around him. Feeling nothing magical but the warlock's truck secured in its necklace form around his neck, his twin wands still holstered in the wrist holsters and his two enchanted daggers sitting on top of his cloths in the next room, he quickly reigned in his magic and focused only on trying to identify the mood and attitude of those around him.
It didn't take him long to notice the two attentive minds of armed guards, vigilant eyes on him, while the occasional random thoughts fleeted across their active conscience. He also immediately identified what must be a nurse keeping an eye on his vital signs, her active conscience marveling on how some group or team called SG-1 had once again encountered something unbelievable. Having always been a curious person he kept his focus on the nurse for only a minute before realizing he was the mystery this SG-1 had encountered. Both worried and intrigued at being a mystery to these people and worryingly having begun to feel a slight strain on his magic he pulled in his conscious mind and decided to open his eyes.
It only took 30 seconds before both one of the guards and the nurse used the phone to contact someone. If he had to guess it was probably some interrogator and a doctor respectively. He had no doubt that the method of his arrival would raise some questions should anyone see it, and considering the mystery the nurse was pondering on not moments ago, he had no doubt someone did witness his arrival and that someone was probably this SG-1. He was quickly proven correct when not 2 minutes later, a short, yet authoritative woman wearing some kind of uniform under a doctor's coat walked into the room. She quickly spoke to the nurse, checked his chart and vitals and at his squint and gesture, handed him his glasses from a nearby table. Not moments after his glasses were settled onto his nose the second party, a group of five people, appeared in some kind of observation booth to the room his hospital bed was in.
This booth was sealed behind what appeared to be some rather thick glass windows making him feel like he was in a zoo exhibit. There was a fair skinned man of average height with glasses and floppy brown hair who gave off the distinct impression of being an academic especially when standing next to a very tall, bald and muscular black man with some kind of strange gold tattoo and another fair skinned man, this one taller and more muscular than the first man he decided to nickname floppy, both which appeared to be soldiers. All three of these men were wearing black t-shirts and what looked like some kind of green cargo pants. After shifting his gaze away from the third man who gave him a very scrutinizing stare he caught site of a portly shaped bald man who Harry felt was surrounded by an aura of command even without what appeared to be two stars on each shoulder. The Major General, for which Harry now remembered two stars on each shoulder represented, had the look of a man who until he ended up behind a desk was very fit and had experienced a lot over his long career. Looking briefly into his eyes, Harry had the feeling this General took to command like a duck took to water.
Moving on from the penetrating stare of the General, Harry finally rested his eyes on a beautiful blond haired woman. She was dressed in the same attire as the first three men, was tall for a woman standing at around 5'10", and had a short military bob type haircut. But what was most surprising to Harry was the light in her blue eyes, the light of curiosity, the light of excitement, the light of a yearning to learn all there was to learn in the universe was present in her gaze. A light he only remembered seeing in Hermione's eyes every time she set foot in the Hogwarts library. As he made this connection he became slightly uncomfortable being stared at like Hermione had once stared at the various puzzles, books or problems she planned to solve, learn from or conquer.
Shifting his gaze back to the short doctor, he braced himself for the questions he knew were coming, attempting to prepare answers that would hopefully satisfy what appeared to be members of the mundane military.
Hoping to head off some of the more troublesome questions Harry decided to use a technique he had observed Dumbledore use many times in the past. Steer the conversation by asking your own questions.
Opening his mouth to start, he felt his throat croak slightly. After giving his head a quick shake and accepting the glass of water from the nurse, Harry turned his head towards the doctor and asked "Where am I?" and once again feeling his head throbbing couldn't stop himself from adding "what the bloody hell bludgeoned me in the head!"
The doctors concerned look turned more pointed after his little addition and she simply replied "You're on Earth, and I don't know what happened to you…"
Becoming fixated on the first part of her answer Harry interrupted, "On Earth? Of course I'm on Earth. Where else would I be? Hell? Cuz it sure feels like it…" he paused, closing his eyes briefly and pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the crushing headache. After a breath he asked "Where the hell on earth am I anyhow?"
Surprised by his interruption and response, Dr. Frasier gave him an odd look, then said "Colorado."
"Colora- That's America…" Harry paused, and finding what humor he could in this situation with a slight grin, joked, "Well Dorothy, I'm sure as hell not in Kansas anymore." Her incredulous look made him ask, "How the hell did I get here anyway? By the looks of things this is some Yank military base."
The doctor simply asked, "Perhaps you could tell me what you last remember?"
At this response Harry's grin slowly turned into a thoughtful frown. He really did not wish to get into a discussion about the jump, but he couldn't just avoid the question. After thinking hard for a few seconds, he decided to stick as close to the truth as he could while avoiding mention of a few details for the time being. No need to go and alienate the first people he met in this new universe if he could avoid it. Grin slowly sliding back into place he responded "I was in my townhouse in London, I had just finished a glass of good whisky after reading the afternoon newspaper's special addition, and now I'm here."
The doctor, who he now noticed was wearing a nametag that said Dr. Frasier on it, responded with narrowed eyes, "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?"
Harry nodded, not noticing her potential ire, "Yeah, well, it's not every day that your own government plans to imprison you for taking down a murdering terrorist that was not only chasing you but also rampaging across the country. Since I did the taking down bit, and was apparently becoming too popular for their tastes…well, long story short, I really really needed a good drink."
That information shocked both the doctor and the people in the observation booth. But then, Dr. Fraiser realized something and asked, "So that's where all those scars are from?"
Harry frowned, then remembering what he was currently wearing asked "Where'd my stuff go, and another thing…who are you?
"I should ask you that."
Harry nodded slightly, "You tell me, I tell you."
"Doctor Janet Frasier, Captain in the United States Air force."
Harry smiled, and gave his title, "Sir Harry James Potter, Commander of The Order."
"Sir?" the doctor, Janet, asked.
Harry shruged. "That terrorist/murderer I mentioned? He kinda was killing…people all over Britain. Took me a few years to take him down. Anyway…where's my stuff?"
Janet didn't answer, instead she said, "I'll be right back."
Harry nodded, and leant back on the pillow. His headache, once forgotten during the conversation came back again twice fold. Despite the headache, and the fact he appeared to be in the custody of the US Air Force at the moment, he considered himself lucky to have made it to his new home. Maybe he shouldn't have had those two glasses of whiskey before the jump?
(A/N: Credit to Bobmin for the Prologue and AlexMcpherson for most of the gate room scene, some of the planet scene and some of the isolation room scenes, hate to use someone else's work even in parts and with their permission but couldn't figure out a better way of saying it (I'm crap with dialog) and thought the least I could do was give out many thanks and lots of credit!)