Fluxing What Is Fixed

by west189

Dumbledore is unhappy with the end of the Third Magic War, so he calls in special help to change what can be changed without damaging the outcome. This special help sends in Torchwood to do what they do best: cause mayhem. The Battle for Hogwarts is set one year prior to the Battle of Canary Wharf, and times are changed accordingly. Torchwood is set after Adam and before Reset.

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, Doctor Who, nor Harry Potter. I do not even live in the United Kingdom.

"You are never too old to set a new goal or dream a new dream." ~C. S. Lewis

Prologue: Flux or Fixed?

Dumbledore sat in his painting, awaiting an old friend. He'd asked the new headmaster to allow himself a meeting of sorts, a way to prevent much of the misery that had occurred in the past years without changing the outcome of the war. However, this required time to strategize and someone who could make a stable time loop. Dumbledore had time. As a portrait, he had all the time in the world. His issue would be the time loop. It was all well and good to change the past, but without someone to guide events, Dumbledore would never want someone to go back in the first place. Very few living people had access to time travel and only one was outside the Wizarding World's timeline.

Getting this man's attention was surprisingly easy, even for a portrait. Dumbledore had seen him in action during World War II as the muggles had called it. After following him and seeing what the man could do, the old wizard had decided a meeting was in order. Because they had been in a secluded part of London near Albion Hospital, Dumbledore had simply grabbed him and apparated them into an already prepared room in the Leaky Cauldron. The man had been apprehensive at first, but after a few rounds of Firewhiskey, the two old men became good friends and had kept in touch until the end of the Cold War.

Dumbledore found him again after the Battle of Canary Wharf. Well, the new headmaster found him. Dumbledore had been persuading him to do it. His idea to change the past only occurred to him a year later. A letter had been sent and a letter had replied. He would come. Heavy footsteps on the staircase brought him out of his head. Seconds later, a dark-haired man in a gray overcoat stood in the doorway. A flirtatious half-smile splayed itself on the newcomer's face. "Hello, Albus." The voice was dark and held none of its usual charm.

"Hello, Captain."