Disclaimer: We do not own either Stargate nor Harry Potter, both belong to their respective owners, not us. We only own the crazy plot we are using.

This fic is jointly written by Shina Schatten and WraithXIII.

Thank you and we hope you enjoy our insanity.

Chapter 1: Falling Between Worlds

Sirius cast the hex at her. In the space of a heartbeat he remembered every relevant moment. He remembered the laughter of youth. He saw in the stone hearted bitch the girl who had beaten him at chess more times then he cared to remember. He envisioned the day she had run to him across the Great Hall, ignoring all propriety as she shouted that she was engaged. All that swirled away as a blasting hex knocked him back, breaking the shield, but luckily no bones. He was airborne, not by choice, and then he was falling.

He saw the light of the reducto curse flying toward him, but in his fall was unable to act. Everything was becoming cold and dark. He wasn't going blind or unconscious, but the light was fading faster than he could perceive. Suddenly there was light and warmth just before a loud crack and pain lanced his head. He heard an explosion and as footsteps swam in his hearing he muttered, "Protego," before unconsciousness claimed him.

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Walter polished the lenses in his wire-rimmed glasses, patiently, methodically. Almost as though he knew that the moment he started doing something else... sigh...

"Unauthorized off-world activation!" The red beacons were flashing, and the two squads of the SGC's finest troops poured into the gateroom from both sides, taking the tactical positions they were trained to take. Walter had no sooner keyed the command closing the heavy doors on both sides of the gateroom, when General O'Neill entered the room.

"If it's the Tok'ra... take a message. Tell 'em I'm..." O'Neill thought of the right cliché for the moment... "in the bath." Sgt."Walter" stifled a grin as he notified the General they were not receiving an IDC, and the fourth chevron had already engaged.

"Close the iris." With a few keystrokes, the heavy iris slid shut, and the fifth and sixth chevrons engaged. After the seventh, the inner wheel of the gate continued to spin.

"Uhm Sir?" Walter had seen extraordinary events occur, sometimes daily, from his seat in the control room, but this one had him at a loss. Those with Clearance to Level 28 knew about the eighth chevron being needed to access far away points, like the Asgard Home world, or the Pegasus Galaxy, but even Colonel Carter could only speculate as to why...

"Sir, the ninth chevron is locked!" Walter could barely swallow, as he looked over his shoulder at a very confused Jack O'Neill.

"Well... that's weird". The wormhole activated behind the trinium alloy iris, and the entire Stargate began to darken. As it grew visibly darker it began to envelop the iris in a thick, fluid void. O'Neill grabbed the intercom, "Colonel Carter to the Control Room, NOW!" He hung up and looked down to Walter, "Get our boys outta there, and seal the gateroom, and close the blast doors here too, we'll watch on screen." The door in front of the observation window slid into place, just as the last of the iris turned pitch black. The last of the troops made their retreat as the doors closed again.

Carter ran into the Control Room just as it happened. Something in dark clothes was thrown through the gate, landing halfway down the ramp, followed by a deep violet blast, angled upward... toward the… "GET DOWN!" O'Neill's words were eclipsed by the explosion. No, not an explosion, explosions were louder than that. Jack had by his own words been in some damn-distasteful places, and been asked to do some damn-distasteful things. The Air Force and the SGC had made sure he had the training, and the tools, to complete missions, but he had never seen anything that could have done this. Through the blast door, and the bulletproof window it protected, was a perfect four foot circle. Looking through it he saw the wormhole shut down, the iris and Stargate "bleeding" off the darkness.

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Sirius slowly woke to consciousness. The air was cool and as he opened his eyes dark gray concrete met his gaze. Soft light filtered to reveal the starkness of the wall he was facing. It hit him as it had years before. The cold the gray was a reminder he had been caught, it was only a matter of time before the dementors arrived in his cell. A terrified scream broke from his throat, "No! Stay back, Stay away from me!"

A small door within the larger one opened from the outside, revealing a dense mesh grating, with the outline of a face behind it. "Uh… Hi." The hesitation was unmistakable, "My name is Daniel." Another trademark pause, "Who are you?"

Sirius lowered his hands from where they gripped his head and looked toward the voice. The small meshed door with the outline of a face confused him. This was a new type of holding cell; this must be an Auror from the ministry. "Has Fudge ordered the Kiss?" the fright and anger were at war with one another in his voice.

Daniel closed his eyes, and the confusion crept across his face, like the first time he heard Jack say he agreed with him… about anything. "Uh… no, not exactly… who's Fudge?"

Sirius's gaze took in the light sources in the room then, not windows but unusual looking enclosed torches. He looked at the face through the mesh window and said, "The moronic ass we call a minister."

"Minister… like a priest or some kind of religious leader? Right… by the way, I couldn't help but notice the accent. I only mention it because we don't get many, um, visitors through the gate speaking the Queen's English." Daniel didn't know if this was bothering or intriguing him, but either way he needed to know who he was, or maybe more importantly… "Where are you from?"

Sirius's brow furrowed in confusion that this person did not know the minister. Accent thought Sirius before suddenly realizing Daniel didn't sound like everyone else he knew. Sirius decided to answer as few questions as possible and simply said, "London."

"London." His eyebrows raised in mock amazement, "Yeah, I wasn't aware Great Britain had a gate. Unless of course you mean P3X-2…"

"London bloody England, and why the hell do you keep saying gate?" Sirius' famous temper had flared up, obviously this was some new questioning technique thought up during his incarceration in Azkaban.

"Okay look, I don't know exactly how you know about London, and I don't know if your people call it the ring, the gate, or the Chaapa'ai, but I have about five more minutes to find out who you are and why you're here. Believe me, I'm much better to talk to than Jack, I knew him for months before he cared what I had to say, and I was important to him!"

Realization wasn't as slow in coming as one might think. Sirius knew this wasn't the ministry and if he ever wanted a chance to kill Bellatrix and see Harry again he would need to start cooperating. In a defeated tone of voice he said, "My name is Sirius Black. The last thing I remember was that bitch Bella blasting me backwards. My shield failed and then I lost consciousness, next thing I know I'm here, where-ever here is."

Over years of studying history, Daniel's opinion was still that, with a few exceptions, most fighting could have, or should have been suppressed with discussions. Maybe this future fight was being evaded now. "Hello, Sirius. Um, yeah, I meant to ask you about that. Right after you, uh, landed, you said Protego, that's Latin for shield. At first we thought maybe you meant the iris, in front of our gate, but you just said that your shield failed. Was this shield on your ship?"

Sirius had begun chanting the word fuck within his mind as Daniel mentioned the translation for the shield spell. This was a Muggle he was speaking with. He looked at the shaded eyes through the mesh and said, "No, no ship. May I ask, am I in America or somewhere else in Eurasia?"

As if he was trying to translate something from O'Neill into English, Daniel stared into the mesh. He removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "How do you know so much about our world? You're not Goa'uld. You're not Tok'ra. Our doctors say you're human, but you came through the gate from London bloody England, babbling about a Protego, and Bella shooting at you!" And like turning off a switch, the anger was gone and the curiosity returned, "Who is Bella? A minor system-lord?"

"Okay… let me think this through…" Sirius paused and stood. He began pacing. "First off normally only Ministers and Presidents know about us… but with everything Voldemort's likely… No." He stopped and faced the door again, "Daniel, I do not know what a ring, gate, cha-pappa, or any of the other stuff you are saying is. Bella is my bitch cousin turned murdering whore in the name of an unholy half-blooded bastard who's responsible for my best friends' death." His voice was fierce with hatred and rage before calming slightly. "I don't know how much clearance you have within the Muggle governments, but I need to get in contact with Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts. If you contact London's… good god what's that stupid division called now… anyway call their please-men then dial six five one six nine and ask for Kingsley Shackelbolt, he can contact Dumbledore, please do not say my name to anyone but Kingsley."

"Well, I don't know about muggles, let me talk to Jack, and we'll call, uh, London's please-men, and not tell them you're here until we get to Kingsley, and Albus, and Humpty and Dumpty, and we'll all get together at Hogwarts for a good old time. I'll bring the Nox! I'll, uh, be back later."

"You're turning out the lights?" Sirius looked and sounded truly confused. He then shook his head slightly and muttered quietly, "I guess you were right mother, I would eventually disgrace the noble name of Black, forgive me but I may need to break our secrecy." Sirius sat back down to wait and assess everything he had learned, now was not the time to be a Gryffindor, now was the time to the mastermind of the Marauders.

"Lights? Uh, no... wait, nox... that's funny, " He ran his fingers through his hair, "they'll stay on. For now anyway." He didn't know why he tried to sound intimidating. He had never been one for parting shots, but maybe too much time spent with Jack was taking its toll. He closed the observation door, and looked at it for a minute. He knew what came next; he could already hear Jack's voice…

"Daniel, whaddya mean that's all we know?" The briefing room had been the setting for many conversations, some heated, over the lasteight years. This wasn't the first time Jack had been disappointed with Daniel, and it wouldn't be the last. If nothing else, Daniel had proven himself more often than not, so Jack was willing to listen… again.

"I mean that's all he's told me so far. Now, granted, there's more to this, after all it's not every day the gate, uh, does that. But he does seem to know quite a bit about our world, specifically England. He even has the right dialect for the area. I can't explain it, but I think he's from Earth." Colonel Carter spoke up.

"You know, Sir, this isn't the first time we've dealt with alternate..." she was cut off.

"Carter!" Sam knew to stop without him having to say it, and she did, with a smile. O' Neill continued, "I know, but this time I'd like to think he may actually be nuts! It's easier for me that way..."

Carter maintained her smile, "Understood, Sir, but you can't discount the possibility that he may very well be from..."

Jack cleared his throat, "Carter..." he wasn't angry with her, exactly. After all, her brains had saved the world more often than his tactics, but he was the ranking officer, and even though they were all old friends, he liked to at least look like he was in charge. "I believe Daniel is still... briefing... us." He smiled at Sam and kept it as he looked back at Dr. Jackson, "Daniel?"

"Right... uh, anyway he wanted us to call the "please-men" in London, and ask for Kingsley, extension... " He checked his notes, "Six five one six nine. We weren't to mention his name to anyone but him. Problem is, uh, there are no five digit extensions at any of the Government offices, including the police, which I assume is what he meant by the "please". Daniel kept the corners of his mouth wide after saying the word, the way he often did when thinking.

"So, Daniel," Jack began, with the ever-present sarcasm, "What you're saying is that we…" He paused to let Daniel finish for him.

"Don't know very much. I know, Jack, let me talk to him some more. I almost feel a…" he stopped, searching for the right word. "bond, I guess with him. I'd like to find out what cultural significance his belongings have."

O'Neill's eyebrows raised, "Ah yes… the stick!"

"Actually, Sir, the 'stick' as you called it had some properties we couldn't quite explain in the lab." Carter interjected. "I'd like a chance to ask him some questions as well."

"Okay, well, since we're on the subject," he glanced at his old friend, "Teal'c, do you have any questions for the prisoner?"

The Jaffa raised a single eyebrow, and with his head cocked slightly, "I do not, O'Neill. I will however accompany Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson to the holding room."

"Well, have fun kids. I'm off to a meeting with, uh," Jack waved his hand in a circular motion, "someone important… somewhere… else."

Carter and Daniel smiled as they rose from the table, Teal'c looked slightly puzzled for a moment, then a slight smile crept across his face. Over the last seven years, Teal'c had studied O'Neill's expressions; obviously this was an attempt to let Carter and Daniel 'do their thing', which was another O'Neillism he had learned.