Chapter - 2 : Unfinished Journeys

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The news he managed to get from stolen copies of the Daily Prophet suggested that the Ministry had abandoned its search for the so-called criminal Order members. The bounty on Harry's head was cut in half and then halved again, with the Death Eaters seemingly deciding that he was no longer important. Harry even began entertaining the idea that he might manage to survive long enough to see Ron, Hermione and his other friends again one day.

Which was what made the attack, when it came, so very unexpected.

Harry didn't know who killed him. All he heard was a voice crying out "Avada Kedavra" while his back was turned, not giving him enough time to even draw the Elder Wand from his pocket. Nor did he have any idea how his attacker had found him as travelled in the crowded Muggle underground. The truth behind his murder would have to remain yet another unsolved mystery it seemed, as upon opening his eyes he found himself lying flat on his back in the middle of a ghostly Kings Cross Station. He was dead - again.

Harry scrambled to his feet and cautiously looked around. Thick fog swirled through the platform, making it hard to see anything, but after a while he spotted a small figure approaching through the white mist. It wasn't Dumbledore this time, perhaps because Harry - unfairly or otherwise - blamed most of the war's disastrous outcome on his old Headmaster. Instead he found himself faced with an over-excited House-Elf.

"Oh Harry Potter, sir! You has arrived!"

Dobby exclaimed loudly, his voice echoing along the empty platform. "Dobby is so glad to be seeing the great and noble Harry Potter once again!"

"Er… hello, Dobby," Harry said, staring down at the small being he hadn't seen in over three years. The elf was just as he remembered him, wearing mismatched socks, a yellow and purple striped scarf around his neck, and a bright red tea-cosy as a hat. Overwhelmed with affection for the odd being, Harry knelt down on the hard tiled floor and hugged him. "Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "Thank you so much for everything."

"No need to be thanking Dobby, Harry Potter sir!" The elf's ears flapped wildly as he bounced on his toes. "Dobby is proud of having protected sir and his Grangy and Wheezy."

Harry slowly stood back up. "You're a great friend, Dobby."

Death seemed to have calmed the elf somewhat, since Harry's words didn't cause him to burst into tears of happiness. His already manic smile became even wider and his bouncing more energetic, but he otherwise contained himself. "Dobby is not having much time, Harry Potter! Dobby must be giving you a message before you is leaving."

Harry frowned. "I suppose that means I'm still not completely dead then." It was ridiculous - he'd been hit by three killing curses in his short twenty-something years of life and not a one of them had worked. Not that Harry wanted to die, of course, but he didn't like there being yet another reason for him to be considered a freak. If this was the consequence of mastering all three Hallows, Harry wished he had destroyed the things while he'd had the chance.

"Harry Potter's mind is being very much alive," Dobby told him, "but Harry Potter's body is most dead. The bad wizard is chanting nasty spells and burning it."

"Huh." Harry puzzled over Dobby's words.

"They seem to have learned something from the last time, then. Does that mean I can't go back? Not that I'd be likely to live long, what with the bounty on my head and everything, but I'd like to spend more time with my friends…"

"Harry Potter cannot go back, but he cannot yet go on," Dobby said. "Harry Potter must go to a new world, where he can die properly!"

Harry was overwhelmed by what he was hearing, but understood enough to be angry at the injustice of it all. "What? Are you honestly telling me I have to be killed all over again! I've already died twice, isn't that enough?"

"Not killed!" Dobby's tennis-ball eyes grew even wider. "Never killed. Dobby is wanting Harry Potter to be safe and happy and wrinkled!"

"Wrinkled? You mean old?"

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Very wrinkled!"

"Well, dying of old age doesn't sound like such a bad plan," Harry said slowly, needing time to adjust to the idea. He had long ago been forced to give up such hopes, with his lightning bolt scar meaning he might as well have had a bulls-eye painted on his forehead. "But what's this about a new world? Sounds dodgy."

Dobby looked hesitant all of a sudden.

"Yes?" Harry prompted, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Considering that Dobby's idea of a good plan involved Harry's near expulsion from Hogwarts and a fifty foot drop after being knocked off a broom, any hint of caution from the elf had to be a very bad sign.

"It is being another world, Harry Potter sir, one without the great Harry Potter in it!"

"Why, what happened to me?" Harry had heard Hermione debate the existence of alternate worlds on occasion, but he'd never believed there could actually be other versions of him running around. It was a disconcerting idea and one Harry wasn't too pleased to find out was true. It meant there could be countless Harrys in innumerable worlds - he wondered if they all suffered from the same bad luck as he did.

"Harry Potter is being killed in a car crash when he is being five years old, Harry Potter sir," Dobby informed him, a sad look on his pointy face. Then he brightened up considerably. "But no Harry Potter means that Harry Potter sir can join world and live there instead!"

Apparently the Potter luck really was inescapable. Harry found it tragically ironic that his counterpart had died from what he'd grown up thinking had killed his parents. "So I'm supposed to take the place of a young me?" Harry asked after working out who all the Harry Potters mentioned were.

"Oh no, only if sir is wishing it," Dobby said. "Time is moving slower there, so Harry Potter sir is being ten years old when he arrives – as old as Harry Potter is being if he had lived - and can become anybody he wishes. No one is suspecting sir, since other Harry Potter is dying many years before."

"So I'll be starting Hogwarts and everything, but I don't actually have to tell people I'm Harry Potter," Harry checked. Dobby nodded eagerly, clasping his bony hands together in delight. "Back to the year nineteen ninety one, a proper fresh start…" Harry couldn't help but be tempted by the prospect. "No more Boy-Who-Lived or Undesirable Number One…"

"Then Harry Potter is accepting?"

Harry frowned and held up a hand to stop Dobby saying anything more. "Hang on a moment. If I can accept, doesn't that mean I can decline?"

"If Harry Potter is saying no then he is staying as a ghost forever and ever and ever!" Dobby looked distraught at the very idea. "Harry Potter sir is never going Onwards, never going on his next great adventure!"

"Oh," Harry said. The thought of never joining all those who had died – his friends, family, Sirius – was a most unwelcome one. No matter how unsure he felt over travelling to a strange and unfamiliar world, he knew it had to be the better choice. "There has to be some catch, though. I mean, what's wrong with the world I'll be sent to? I'm sure there's something."

"It is being similar to sir's old world. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still lurking and Professor Trelawney is still telling future, but Harry Potter will also be seeing many differences. Dobby is not allowed to tell, Dobby must be keeping secrets. Dobby is sorry!"

"That's all right," Harry said hurriedly, seeing that the elf was on the verge of busting into tears. He might not know exactly what mess he'd just got himself into, but he'd figure things out as he always did. "At least I know for sure it's not all going to be sunshine and roses. It'll give me a chance to prepare."

"So Harry Potter sir is saying yes?" Dobby nervously fiddled with the ends of his multi-coloured scarf. "Harry Potter must hurry, almost being no time left to decide."

"Well… all right, I suppose I'll accept," Harry said after a long pause. He'd wanted a chance to win the war and a new world would give him that – there was nothing left for him here. "So long as you promise me that the next time I die, I'll stay dead."

The elf nodded solemnly. "Dobby is promising."

"Well then, I suppose this is good bye for now." Harry smiled down at his small friend. "Take care of yourself, Dobby."

"Good bye, Harry Potter," Dobby said, and snapped his fingers. With a loud crack that echoed down the empty platform, Harry disappeared. His last thought was that Dumbledore had been right about one thing - death really was the next great adventure.

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