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The lost Travel

This.. was not what Harry Potter had thought his life would come to, he'd had dreams.. things he had wanted to do.

The Deathly Hallows prevented that, he stopped aging at eighteen.

Ha, what a joke but it sure showed who his true friends were.

He left Britain, when his suppose friends tried to turn him in as a rising dark lord due to his lack of aging. Oh, and because he rejected broomstick Ginny.

Eew.. just no.

Wow, thanks for the love guys.

Should have just let Voldepoo kill them all.

He travelled after that. The muggle way as he'd had his fill of the magical world for now, he didn't need the heartbreak of finding out if other places were the same as Britain's.

Canada was pretty cool, get it.. cool.

Probably shouldn't have visited in the winter, but he'd wanted to try fresh maple syrup in Quebec.

He had no idea why the yanks, thought they were all fishermen or lived in igloos.

Nova Scotia had been beautiful, he'd taken deep nature hikes and taken walked across the huge bridge in the HRM. He'd been planning to head to Ontario then out west when it happened.

He woke to the stone and wand sitting on the bedroom side table of his hotel room, it hadn't been there when he went to sleep.

Harry swore...

It was bad enough he wasn't aging. He shoved them into his pocket, he'd figure this out later.

He was heading downtown Halifax to catch the train to across Canada, wanting to move faster then a bus but not a plain when he tripped.

Unnoticed the ring glowed.

"What the bloody hell!" he shouted, as he was surrounded by trees. No building, no bloody harbor in site.

Whoever said, summoning spirits was the only thing the ring did.