A Space Between Worlds

Chapter One:

Of Plans and Preparations:

"'Charlie had to take the test twice,' said Fred, grinning. 'He failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear who was doing her shopping, remember?'"

--The Goblet of Fire

31st July, 1997

"They feel...odd," Harry said, squinting into the hand mirror he was holding. "I can't stop blinking..."

"You're the one who wanted them," reminded Remus in a rather impatient voice.

"I know, but they're rather irritating..."

"Well, don't get them then."

"No, no, I want them," Harry said quickly. "It'll just take some getting used to, is all." Harry turned to Remus. "How do I look?"

"Different," Remus said.

Good, Harry thought. That's exactly what he wanted. It had been nearly two months since Dumbledore's death and ever since he'd been making plans and preparing himself for what was to come. One of these preparations involved changing his appearance. He knew that if he were to enter a world with a living James Potter, he was going to have to not only hide his identity. It would be rather suspicious if there was suddenly a Potter clone skulking about.

The first and, as he had originally though, easiest task in altering his appearance was to get rid of his glasses and get contacts.

Now Harry had experienced some pretty weird sensations in his life: portkeys, Disillusionment Charms, and the like, but he thought that the feeling of flexible glass on his naked eyes was beyond all the rest.

"Stop blinking," Remus chastised lightly. "You'll make your eyes water and then the contacts will fall out."

Harry stared at him. "What? How do you know so much about contacts? You don't wear them."

"I know, but...well...it just seemed like something that would happen."

Harry shook his head, laughing softly, and turned back to look at himself in the mirror again. It was true. He did indeed look quite different. It was as if glasses were a part of his body, and without them he seemed incomplete, unHarry-like.

"Well," Remus said, glancing at his watch. "Are you ready to go, Harry?"

Harry nodded and the two of them made there way out of the muggle eyewear shop and onto the busy London street.

For his birthday, Harry had owled Remus and asked him if he would bring him to London to get his Apparating license. Wizards and witches under the age of twenty needed a licensed adult in order to apply for their own registration. As the Dursleys were Muggles (not that they'd take him anyway) and Sirius was...gone (not that he'd be able to go to the Ministry of Magic), Remus seemed the best choice. As they were heading for the Ministry, Harry had spotted the eyewear shop and took the opportunity to start in on his plans for the Intermundia Charm. Not that he told Remus his real intensions for wanting contacts. In fact, Harry didn't really want contacts at all. He'd much rather prefer wearing his old glasses. He was sort of fond of the, after all.

As they walked side by side down the busy street, Remus kept glancing at Harry oddly.

"What?" Harry asked. "Is there something on my face?"

"No, that's just it," Remus said. "There's nothing on your face."

"Remus," Harry laughed, "I'll still wear my glasses some of the time. I just want to get used to these contacts."

"Why the sudden urge to get contacts, anyway?"

"Er...well..." Harry thought up a quick lie. "I'm seventeen now. I'm a legal wizard and everything. I thought I could do with a change. I've been wearing glasses since I was four, you know. I guess getting contacts is like a...midlife crisis, only thirty years too early."

Remus seemed to buy this, much to Harry's relief; he'd been a bit nervous that the werewolf was suspicious of him.

"Well," Remus said, smiling now, "when I'm old enough for a midlife crisis, I hope I don't want to dye my hair green or something."

Harry feigned confusion. "You mean you're not old enough for a midlife crisis? I thought that you'd have passed over the hill at least fifty, sixty years ago..."

Remus hit him round the head. "I'm thirty-seven, thank you very much, Mr. Potter."

Harry laughed. "Could have fooled me."

"You be nice," Remus said, grinning in spite of himself, "or I won't give you your birthday gift."

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything," Harry said, though the mischievous smile on his face said otherwise. Then he added quickly: "What is it?"

"No, no, it's a surprise," Remus said. "You'll have to wait."

"I can't wait. I've no patience for anything. You of all people should know this."

Remus laughed. "Well, this is my revenge for that little age comment."

"If I hadn't made that comment, would you have given me my present earlier?"

"No."

"Thought so."

They reached the old, out-of-order telephone box and stepped inside. Remus dialed 6-2-4-4-2 on the warped telephone dial, and a feminine voice said: "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Remus Lupin, escorting Harry Potter in order for him to attain his apparating license."

"Thank you," the disembodied voice said again. "Visitors, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

Two silver badges fell down the change chute, and Harry and Remus took their respective ones and pinned them to the fronts of their shirts.

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

That said, the floor began the shake, and the telephone box sank into the pavement until they were far underground in the Ministry of Magic.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the voice as Remus and Harry made their way out of the box and into the Atrium.

Harry had not been to the Ministry since that fateful night now over a year ago. It seemed unchanged save for The Fountain of Magical Brethren which had been repaired to its original glory.

Harry and Remus made their way down the Atrium until they came to the security desk. Eric, the security guard, looked up at them and said, in a voice of utter boredom: "Step over this way, please."

Harry and Remus did as they were told, stepping closer to the desk as Eric ran a thin, gold rod up and down them. When he had finished and turned to Remus. "Wand?"

Remus handed him his wand and the security guard dropped it onto a scale. A piece of paper came shooting out of the base and Eric read: "Twelve inches, dragon-heartstring core, been in use twenty-six years?"

Remus nodded briskly, taking back his wand.

Eric repeated the weighing with Harry's wand.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use six years, right?"

"Yes," Harry said.

Having finished, they continued down towards the lifts and clambered onto one. The lift ascended slowly, stopping at the seventh level to let a rather rambunctious-looking group of men off at the Department for Games and Sports before rising up again.

"Level six," the invisible feminine voice said, "Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center."

"This is us, Harry," Remus said, and once the golden grids opened, they made their way into the hallway, following the signs to the Apparation Test Center as Ministry memo airplanes zoomed about their heads.

"Name," stated a middle-aged witch in bright blue robes once they had reached their destination. She wasn't looking up at them, instead, her head was almost completely concealed behind the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

"Er...Harry Potter..."

At that the witch looked up. She surveyed him up and down and an excited smile lit her face. "Is it really?" She looked at his visitor's badge and grew even more excited.

"I'm Cassie. And what may I do for you?"

Harry thought this was a pretty obvious question. What else would he be doing at the Apparation Test Center?

"He's going for his license," Remus stated, in his usual calm tones.

Cassie tore her mascara-laden eyes to look up at Remus. "And are you the adult supervisor?"

"Yes."

"Relation?"

"No, just a friend."

"Well," said the witch with a girly laugh, "you would have to be a friend, wouldn't you? I mean, it's not as if the poor boy has any relations." She cast a sympathetic look over to Harry.

Harry felt greatly annoyed.

"Yes, well..." Remus began before Cassie interrupted.

"Your name, please?"

"Remus Lupin."

A quill on her desk sprung to life and began to write down upon a piece of parchment not only Remus's name, but his life's history as well. When it had finished, Cassie looked down at the parchment and read it over to herself. Suddenly, she looked up sharply, her eyes wide with surprise and undisguised fear.

"It says here," she trembled, pointing down to the parchment, "that you are a--"

"Werewolf, yes," confirmed Remus in a rueful voice.

She shot him a scared yet suspicious glance, but said nothing else on the matter. She turned back to Harry, smiling.

"Come here, love," she beckoned, and Harry moved forward reluctantly.

"Now," she said, riffling through her drawers for something, "I'm going to give you a quick written test to complete in the next room, and I want you to fill it out as best you can." She pulled out a test sheet and handed it to him. "Your--er--friend can wait here for you."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, shuffling off to the adjoining room. As he left, he distinctly heard the witch say: "I can't believe it! Harry Potter! Wait 'til I tell Ralph!"

Harry entered the room and saw that there were a few other young wizards and witches there already, each with their heads bent over their tests, scratching away with their quills.

Harry spotted Neville there, and took a seat beside him. "Hi, Neville," whispered Harry.

Neville looked up and smiled. "Going for your license, too, Harry?"

Harry was about to answer when the proctor, a gruff-looking wizard with a short grey beard, told them to be quiet.

The test wasn't very long or hard, and within a half hour, Harry felt as though he had successfully finished it. He brought the test up to the front of the room for grading.

He handed the test to the gruff wizard, who took it and, seeing the name up the sheet, looked back up at him.

"Harry Potter, eh?"

Here we go again, thought Harry. "Yes, sir."

Thankfully, the wizard did not indulge in Harry's presence as much as the witch had. He merely gazed at him curiously for a few moments before correcting his paper.

'There you are, son," he said, handing it back to him a few minutes later. "You passed. Bring it back out to the witch at the desk."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, feeling quite pleased. As he left the room, he saw that poor Neville was still sitting there, looking a bit frustrated.

"Done already?" Cassie beamed as Harry walked back over to her.

'How'd it go, Harry?" Remus asked.

"Fine," Harry said smiling. "I passed."

"Oh well, of course you passed," the witch said absently, and Harry couldn't help feeling a bit disconcerted. He hoped that the reason he'd passed was because of reasons other than his fame.

"Now," the witch said, "I want you and your friend to go down that hallway. It will take you to where you'll be Apparating from. Good luck."

Harry and Remus walked down the hall and came to a large glass door. In gold letters painted across the top were the words: Apparation Point A Testing Area.

They entered cautiously and looked around. It was a wide room full of funny looking instruments, some of them resembling ones that Dumbledore had in his office. A kindly wizard was standing in the center of the room looking expectantly at them.

"Mr. Harry Potter?" he asked, and Harry was thankful that he didn't make a big deal about him.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, as he and Remus walked forward.

"This is Point A, where you'll be Apparating from. You'll be Apparating with your guardian to Point B...located right here." He pointed to the floor and Harry noticed for the first time that instead of a carpet, the floor was covered by a large map of the United Kingdom. Point B seemed to be located somewhere in East London.

"Now," the wizard said, "Apparating in itself is quite simple, but most people don't take the necessary precautions. Because of this, they run the risk of getting splinched. Apparating without a license is illegal and very dangerous. We at the Ministry would advise that, even with a license, you don not attempt to Apparate or Disapparate if you are not in good health or in a right state-of-mind. Understand?"

"Yes," Harry said, nodding.

"Right then, Apparation does not require the use of a wand, but we recommend that beginners use one. So, take it out, that's it...now, I want you to shut your eyes and picture your destination very clearly in your mind."

"What does it look like?" Harry asked.

"It's located within an old, vacated apartment building," the wizard said. "Seventh floor, in a shabby room with no wallpaper and two broken windows. Here..."

He pulled out a wrinkled photograph and showed it to Harry. "That's the place. Now, concentrate very hard...don't forget to shut your eyes...that's it...as I said, wands are not necessary, but it's safer for new Apparators to use it, so hold up your wand...yes, very good...now on the count of three, I want you to say 'Apparato!' Make sure you keep concentrating..."

Harry began to feel nervous and the wizard seemed to sense this. "Don't worry, your guardian will be with you also...now, are you ready?"

Harry nodded.

"Good...one...two...three..."

"APPARATO!"

Harry felt as though he was attached to a runaway car that kept pulling him forward, faster and faster...He kept concentrating on the picture he'd seen--the last thing he wanted was to be splinched--and as soon as it had had started, it had stopped.

Harry felt, as he opened his eyes to find that he had successfully made it to his destination, that wearing contacts was no longer number one his list of bizarre sensations.

Remus, who had indeed Apparated with him, was beaming at him proudly. "You did it, Harry, you Apparated!"

Harry couldn't help but feel pleased with himself, as well.

There was a witch in her late twenties with short brown hair standing in the old apartment. When she saw them, she smiled and said: "Congratulations, Mr. Potter." She moved over to a tidy desk that looked very much out of place in the broken down, one-room flat. She wrote something on a small slip of paper and handed it to him.

"Here's your license," she said, still smiling.

Harry looked at it. Written in lurid green ink, was his name, date of birth, gender, height, weight, when he received his license, and when he should renew it. There was also a picture of him in the corner. How this witch had got this picture or information, Harry did not know.

"Now," the witch said, "For the next six months, whenever you are Apparating, it is suggested that you use your wand. Also, saying the word 'Apparato' out loud is not necessary, but it helps beginners to concentrate better, so we also recommend that you use that for awhile as well. Now, you will be Apparating back to Point A." She stepped back from him. "When you're ready."

Harry looked up at Remus. The werewolf nodded and smiled, and together they Disapparated back to the Department of Transportation.

Later that day, upon leaving the Ministry, Harry reflected that this was the happiest he had felt in a long time, despite everything that had happened in the last two months, and everything that was going to happen in the future. But he tried not to think about that too much at the moment. It was his birthday, after all, and though the mission was highly important, it had been a long time since Harry had spent a moment considering his own needs and feelings as opposed to his friends'.

It wasn't until he and Remus had stopped for supper at an unobtrusive café, that he was forced to think about the Intermundia Charm again.

Harry was busy examining his license, happy that the picture portrayed him wearing glasses, and when he looked up, he saw Remus grinning toothily at him, a neatly wrapped present on the table between them.

It was then that Harry remembered Remus's gift.

"Oh! Thanks, Remus!" Harry said, opening it. He wasn't expecting much; the werewolf's status in society had not increased in anyway. If anything, he seemed worse off. In these troubled times, no one trusted anyone, especially werewolves.

That's why Harry was so surprised to see a very expensive present laying within the package.

"Oh my--Remus...how did you...you didn't have to...I mean you really didn't have to!"

Harry picked it up. It appeared to be a largish gold coin with inscriptions laden on the edges and an ancient Egyptian symbol in the center. A silver string was attached in order to wear it about the neck like a medallion. "A Transfigure Talisman..." Harry breathed, totally in awe.

"You like it then?" Remus asked, still grinning.

"Like it?" Harry asked incredulously, "I love it! They're really rare and--" he gave Remus a rather scornful look "--really expensive. You shouldn't have spent so much..."

Remus shook his head. "I've been saving for awhile, besides most of the money I used came from what Sirius left me. Listen," he leaned forward, so that no Muggles could overhear and said: "I know how much you want to be an Auror and I know how hard you've been practicing--Minerva's told me--so I thought that this could help. Most Aurors have these. They help with transfiguring yourself for disguises and things. Tonks doesn't have one, obviously, she's a metamorphmagus, but Moody does, and Kingsley, and so if you're going to be an Auror, you've got to have one."

Harry felt horribly guilty inside. One, because Remus had spent much more than he could afford, whatever he said, and two, because Harry was glad he had. He was very glad to have this thing, not because of his training to be an Auror, but because this would help to further his disguise for the Intermundia Charm.

He looked up Remus and smiled. "You have no idea how grateful I am." And he meant it.

"I think I do," Remus said, though in essence he truly didn't.

But Harry didn't feel the need to correct him.

8th August, 1997

Night of the Full Moon

Harry lay on his bed, blinking rapidly. He had just put in his contacts for the first time since his birthday. He hated wearing them, but he needed to tonight.

Harry had known a few people who had worn contacts, but none of them seemed to mind them as much as Harry did. It was as if his eyes were totally against anything touching them, as if the contacts were defiling the sacred green depths of his irises. But it was necessary, Harry continued to tell himself.

Getting rid of his glasses wasn't the only thing about his appearance that he was preparing to change though. Upon receiving the Transfigure Talisman from Remus, Harry would now be able to do something a bit more drastic. Contacts were a minor change compared to what he was now planning.

He sat up and, ignoring his twitchy eyes, he leaned over his bed to the secret floorboard in which was stored his various items of value: his father's Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, his Firebolt, recent birthday presents and cakes sent to him by his friends, and of course, Dumbledore's fateful note and Intermundia Charm directions. He decided that when he left, he would not bring his trunk. It was too heavy, and he didn't think it wise to place any spells upon it to lighten it just in case someone happened to see it floating behind him. Instead, he used his school bag and placed an Engorgio Charm on it to ensure that everything he needed would fit.

Packing everything into the magically-altered satchel, Harry left only two things out: the Charm directions he put into his pocket for later use, and his Talisman he strung around his neck.

It glittered ominously in the dimly lit room from where it sat on Harry's chest; alive with power and anticipating its forthcoming use.

Harry stood in front of the full length mirror behind his closet door. Behind his reflection he could see the slowly rising moon, full and yellow. He wondered how Remus was.

He touched the Talisman with his left hand, and with his right, he held his wand steady, pointing it at his head, or more specifically, at his hair. Harry reckoned that changing the color of his hair would be a good disguise for this new world he was entering. He was nervous, having never attempted to transfigure himself (unless you count that time with the Polyjuice Potion, and that other time with the Gilly Weed). It was still his first time transfiguring himself with a wand and a Talisman. He knew how to use them, though. Professor McGonagall had been helping him out with his Transfiguration classes, almost as determined as he to make himself an Auror. She had mentioned the usage of Transfigure Talismans, but she would not have him start practicing with them until his seventh year. Well, let's just say he was getting a bit of a head start.

The tricky part about Talismans was that they would not allow you to change more than one thing about your appearance, but Harry decided that the hair change would be enough, along with his glasses. Besides, no one would be expecting him to be anyone other than Apollo Hero, his falsified name. No one, that is, save this new Dumbledore. He was pretty confident that no one would grow suspicious, especially if he kept a low profile.

Harry took a deep breath and muttered the spell that would finish his mock identity.

"Coma adfectio."

The Talisman glowed for a moment, and the incantations along the side began to spin. Harry still held it with his left hand and he could feel it growing hot. Suddenly a golden light shot from out of his wand and into his hair. As soon as this happened, the Talisman grew cold and still once more, shinning innocently in the reflected moonlight.

Harry looked up into the mirror--and had to bite back a gasp. The last thing he'd want or need was the Dursleys waking up.

Harry was stunned amazed not only that he had gotten the spell right on the first try, but that he looked so different with a simple hair change.

His normally unruly hair was now quite neat. It no longer stuck up in the back, and it fell past his ears and just above his shoulders. It was just long enough to pull into a ponytail, he thought, remembering how cool Bill looked with one. But that was hardly the most amazing thing about it.

His hair was now a golden blond color. Not whitish like Malfoy's, but more like the sun. Harry smiled. If it wasn't for the scar on his forehead or the emerald eyes, he wouldn't have even recognized himself.

Grinning like a first year, Harry slipped the Talisman beneath his robes, and moved quickly to his desk. He rummaged through the draws until he found a small rubber band. Going back to the mirror, still grinning madly, he pulled his hair back into it and stood there examining the effect with pleasure. For the first time in his life, Harry felt attractive; he felt much more confident like this than as a messy-haired bespectacled boy.

Then the ever-present guilt returned, as did the small Hermione voice. What are you doing? Playing around like an idiot! There's work to be done. This is serious, Harry! The point of your disguise was not to see what you'd look like in a ponytail! It's to help you in your mission! Do you think this is a game, to be played at your leisure and will? Well, this isn't a game Harry. It's war. And we'll loose if you continue to be a prat! There are innocent lives in the balance! So, get your act together!

Harry sighed. The voice in his head was right. There was still work to be done. And first and foremost, he needed to write farewell to his friends. (Though he did decide that there was no harm in keeping the ponytail in.)

Later that night, the moon now hanging at its zenith, Harry walked down the street toward to park with the broken swings. He had spent most of his time planning there for this mission, and it was from there that he would embark on his other worldly quest.

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel the Talisman against his skin. Every now and then it pulsated; Harry knew that as long as he kept it on his person it would keep up his disguise.

When he reached the park, he began to have second thoughts about what it was that he was doing. It wasn't the first time he had doubted and it wouldn't be the last. He didn't know if he'd ever see this world again. Dumbledore seemed to have confidence in him, but Harry was unsure of his abilities.

Maybe he should just forget it...

He was actually about to turn around when his eyes caught sight of the moon above. In that instant he wondered what would happen, in the years to come, if he didn't do this, right here right now. Would Moony still be alive? Would Ron? Hermione? Ginny? He didn't think his heart could take one more death of a friend. Too many had died. It was time for that to end, once and for all.

And so he reached into his pocket and took out the Intermundia Charm directions...

Ron awoke with a start. He had been having a funny dream, though he couldn't remember what it was. It had been very strange though.

He looked round in his dark room, the moon overhead casting shadows about him, and he was shocked to see two pairs of eyes staring at him on top of his cabinet.

"AAARGH!" Ron cried, sitting straight up and groping for his wand. "L-lumos!"

His wand tip ignited and Ron saw, to his relief, that the eyes belonged to none other than his owl Pig and Harry's owl, Hedwig.

"What're you doing here, Hedwig?" Ron asked, glancing at his watch. It was well passed midnight. 'Why's Harry sending post so late?"

Hedwig gave a mournful hoot in reply and held out her leg for Ron to untie the letter there. Yet before he could read it, Mrs. Weasley came hurtling into the room. "Ron!" she cried. "Are you alright? You woke me and your father up just now."

"It's alright, mum," he said, feeling embarrassed. "Hedwig startled me is all."

"Hedwig? Oh, Harry's owl? What's she doing here at this hour?"

"Dunno," Ron said, just as perplexed as his mother. "I was just about to read the letter..."

"Oh I hope everything's alright," Mrs. Weasley said anxiously.

"Yeah, me too..." He unsealed the letter, and was about to read it when a second body came flying into the room. It was Ginny and there were tears staining her cheeks.

"Oh! I knew you'd get one, too!" she cried, seeing the not in Ron's hand.

"What's this all about?" Mrs. Weasley said, her hands on her hips. "Ginny dear, what is it?"

"Read the note," she said, nodding to Ron.

Ron looked down at it and read:

Dear Ron,

I'm writing to tell you that I'm going away for a while. I don't know when I'll be back...maybe not for years...

I am going someplace where neither you nor anyone else will be able to follow. I wish I could tell you where, but that might jeopardize things for you and the Order. Let it suffice to say that I've found a way...a way to destroy Voldemort. Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself. I promise I'll come back.

Your friend,

Harry

Ron looked up at his mother and sister, a sense of disbelief settling in his stomach.

"Harry's gone."