1 1. APPARATING INTO A MARVELOUS DITCH.

Harry Potter's life got better after the war. The Battle of Hogwarts ended it all—the Dark Lord was defeated, and they caught most of his followers, the Death Eaters.

Voldemort connected himself to his followers using the Dark Mark. When he was defeated, he tried to use their power to escape death, which drained them until they collapsed.

After the battle, people felt both happy and sad. They were relieved that the Dark Lord was gone but sad for those who died—brave wizards and witches like Tonks, Remus, Fred, Lavender, Colin, Snape, and more.

Harry hadn't finished school yet, so Teddy Lupin, Tonks' son, was taken care of by his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks. Harry agreed because his fame could be dangerous for both himself and Teddy.

Harry found two powerful objects, the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone, after Voldemort's defeat. He couldn't get rid of them because they made him the Master of Death. He didn't want them to cause harm to his godson, Teddy, so he kept them away.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry went back to Hogwarts to finish their schooling. They were a year behind and joined Ginny and Luna for their final year, riding the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

"This feels strange," Ron said softly, looking out at the passing scenery.

"What's that, Ron?"

"Well, this is our last ride on the Express, at least for us. I think Hermione might come back as a teacher in a few years. And maybe you could teach Defense too, in time."

Hermione squeezed Ron's hand gently and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'd like that, Ron. But if things go as we hope, maybe you'd join Hogwarts too. Teachers live in the Castle, after all."

"I'd like that. I wonder what I'll do. I fancy a career in Quidditch. Maybe I'll do that for a while, and when you're ready for Hogwarts, Madame Hooch's job might be open."

Hermione smiled at him and turned to Harry.

"What about you, Harry? What are your plans now?"

"No idea. I've been sorting out Gringotts paperwork. My vault from school is now a trust for Teddy. I had a bigger Potter Family vault, but I had to give a lot to the Goblins for restitution. There's another vault that got opened after my parents died. It held gifts from people thanking me for defeating Riddle the first time. Sirius left me the Black estates, so money's not a worry. Kreacher has been fixing up Number 12, so we have a place to stay for now." 

After a quick talk with reporters, the three friends headed towards where they'd apparate.

"Oh, Harry. There you are," Arthur Weasley called out as he approached.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley."

"Call me Arthur, Harry. I've been working on something as a graduation gift for you."

"Mr... uh, Arthur, you really didn't have to."

"It didn't cost much, and I enjoyed making it."

Arthur pulled out a small motorbike from his jacket.

"Wow! That looks just like Sirius's old motorbike!"

"Well, it is."

He pressed a button, and the bike grew to its full size.

"Besides flying, it can shrink too. I added that in—Molly wasn't keen on keeping it big."

"Brilliant, Arthur. Thanks a lot."

"Best not to ride it here. Pack it away and come to the Burrow when you can. I'll teach you how to use it."

Harry thanked Arthur again and stored the bike in his trunk.

After saying hello to friends and their parents, Harry prepared to apparate to his new home.

"DIE, POTTER!" Someone yelled, and Harry turned to face an attack. His attempt to apparate was interrupted by a spell that clashed with his magic.

Suddenly, everything turned into a blur of colors and wind before darkness took over.

*****scene change*****

Harry woke up feeling terrible, his body aching all over. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a park, surrounded by tall buildings in a big city. Checking himself, he made sure all his body parts were intact.

Trying to stand up made him feel really sick. "I feel awful, like I've been hit by something huge."

He closed his eyes to calm down and started noticing the noises around him—cars driving by and a plane flying overhead.

After a moment, he managed to stand and look around. He was in a park enclosed by a huge city. The ground where he landed was smoking a bit, and there was a strange pattern etched into the grass. It looked familiar, but Harry couldn't focus properly.

"What on earth did I get myself into this time?" Harry muttered, crouching to inspect the burnt grass.

Sirens blared, tires screeched, and the noise of approaching helicopters filled the air, interrupting his examination.

Exhausted and unsure where to go, Harry fumbled to unshrink his school trunk, desperately searching for his invisibility cloak.

He draped the cloak over himself and the trunk just as heavily armed soldiers burst through the bushes.

"Perimeter secured!" they shouted, one after another.

Harry shrunk his trunk again, stashing it away, and tried to blend into the background as the soldiers moved around. More men arrived, some with unfamiliar equipment, others with cameras, all documenting the scorch mark Harry's arrival had left in the grass.

Another man, bald, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a business suit, arrived. The soldiers straightened up immediately.

"Agent Stillwell. We secured the site 15 minutes after the energy spike alert. No sign of anyone, sir," reported a soldier, probably the field commander.

"Get a linguist to examine the burn mark. Keep the area locked down, document everything. I'll speak with the NYPD," the agent commanded.

'At least they speak English here,' Harry thought quietly, trailing behind the agent as they left the perimeter.

Harry felt oddly calm, considering the situation. It dawned on him that this might be one of the least dangerous spots he'd ended up in during his adventurous life, though he also admitted to himself that a mild concussion and magical exhaustion might be playing a part in his calmness.

As Harry and the unwitting escort left the park, he recognized the city—it looked like New York. Perhaps from glimpses on TV at the Dursleys, or the bold "New York" label on the arriving police cars forming a secondary perimeter around the park.

Agent Stillwell abruptly halted, producing the smallest, slickest cellphone Harry had ever seen.

"Stillwell here. Yes, Director. From my observation, it's akin to what Coulson reported in New Mexico. Not identical, but similarities..."

Slowly moving away from the park and the agent, Harry found a crowd gathering at the police perimeter. Reporters clamored for a view of the military activity.

Carefully navigating around the crowd and into the dimly lit city streets, Harry sought refuge in a dark alley. There, he removed the invisibility cloak.

The recent ordeal weighed heavily on the young wizard. Sitting by a trash bin, Harry managed a weak notice-me-not charm before drifting off into sleep.

Harry woke up to blaring sirens passing by. Slowly getting to his feet, he tried to ease the stiffness from sleeping on the hard ground of the alley. He really missed the comfy beds at Gryffindor Tower.

Hungry and with a pounding head, Harry decided to find a café for breakfast and to gather his thoughts.

Scanning the area, he spotted a small café that served breakfast and walked in.

Seating himself at a table, Harry ordered breakfast and a cup of tea.

"You sure you can pay for this, dear?" the waitress questioned, eyeing his worn-out clothes skeptically.

Glancing down, Harry saw his once-new jeans and t-shirt, now torn and dirty from his fall and the night spent in the alley.

"Yeah, I only have British pounds, no American dollars," Harry realized.

A gray-haired man with large glasses sitting at the counter seemed to have been watching. "Don't worry. I can swap some of your money for dollars."

The waitress, familiar with the man, remarked, "Stan, you're going to get swindled one day."

The man joined Harry at his table, and after exchanging money, their breakfasts arrived.

"Thanks for the help, sir."

"No problem. You look like you've had a rough time. If you need a place, there's a homeless shelter where you could stay a couple of nights. No need to explain why you're on the streets."

"I had an accident last night. Woke up in an alley, felt terrible," Harry replied. "Once I'm finished here, I'll make some calls to sort things out. Would've done it earlier, but my head wasn't clear. I think I hit it."

Harry said goodbye to the peculiar man and, after a filling breakfast, cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes. He headed to a payphone with phone numbers he collected from muggle-born and half-blood friends at the end of the school year.

Dialing Hermione's parents' number, he heard, "The number you are trying to reach is not in service."

Trying multiple times, Harry suspected an issue with the Grangers' phone.

Next, he dialed Justin's number. "Square Pizza, can I take your order?" The confirmation of the pizzeria's name surprised him—he hadn't misdialed.

Going through his contacts, every number seemed wrong or disconnected. A sense of unease settled in. Something was definitely amiss.

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(edited chapter.)

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