While I wish I was J.K Rowling, and that I owned Harry Potter and all the
fantastical things around him, I'm not and I don't. everything else though,
is mine. Unless I say it isn't.
To say that it was the weirdest thing to ever happen to her would be a gross under statement. To say that it was the most freakishly bizarre thing to ever happen in the history of the multiverse would be more, if not completely, accurate.
Emma Rexi Uton was a semi-average 14-year-old. Notice the past tense. To say that she was anything remotely related to normal anymore would be another gross understatement, and not the last.
It all started when her perfectly teenaged dream of high school was rather rudely interrupted by some unearthly music. At the time she didn't mind, because the music was so awe-inspiring and enchanting that she could focus on nothing else. If had, she might have noticed the swirling whirlpool of colors that had haunted her sub-consciousness since her creation enveloping her, or the tall motherly figure approaching her.
"Sleep well my child, for tomorrow all things shall come to pass." she murmured, bending low over Emma and slipping a small object into her pocket. But she was not to know, for her mind had already slipped into the strange realm of dreams.
"Albus, who is she?" a voice laden with a Scottish accent broke through Emma's slumber like a hot knife through butter. Still half asleep, she contented herself to listen groggily to the strangers conversation.
"I do not know, Minerva, but when she awakes I intend to find out." a wizened old voice commented.
"Perhaps we should wake her now. Merlin knows, some answers would be nice." the Scottish voice spoke again.
"Minerva, I do believe you're right." the old voice replied. There was a sound of chairs scraping the floor and then something thin and wooden was touched to her temple. "Ennervate"
It was as though energy was flowing from the thin thing into herself, sparking her awake. She opened one eye, took in her surroundings, and then bolted upright.
The room she was in was unsettlingly familiar, but it shouldn't, couldn't, be real, just as the two people standing before her with very bemused expressions on their faces didn't exist.
"What the... who... where... how...?" she spluttered before getting a grip on herself and promptly pinching her arm hard. Nerve cells picked up the futile gesture and pain promptly sparked. Blinking bewilderedly, she shook her head as though she thought she could banish the room before her with the movement.
"Okay, I'm not dreaming." she stated, still blinking rapidly.
"I should certainty hope so." smiled the old man with the long beard and twinkling blue eyes-Albus Dumbledore. "What ever would that make Minerva and I?"
"Really odd figments of my imagination." Emma replied, distractedly rubbing her forehead.
"Allow me to introduce myself." continued Albus Dumbledore regally "I am Albus Percival Wolfrick Brian Dumbledore, and this is Minerva Athens McGonagall, or Professor McGonagall to you. And you are?"
"Seriously weirded out." Emma muttered "But most everyone calls me Emma."
"Well Miss Out." McGonagall coughed disapprovingly "Would you care to explain how you ended up here?"
Emma shot her a questioning look. "I'm completely in the dark about that."
The two adults exchanged glances, and Dumbledore reached behind him and pulled out a glass of water. "Here, drink this."
Emma did what she was told and swallowed the entire glass whole, and the promptly slumped forward.
Dumbledore watched the Veritaserum take hold on the adolescent in front of him with a pang of regret. Still, it was for a worthy cause, because if this girl was the person he suspected her to be, then she could be their salvation.
Or their downfall.
"Can you hear me." he questioned
"Yes." came the reply
"What is your name?"
"Emma Rexi Uton."
"How did you come here?"
"I don't know."
"What is the last thing you remember before waking up in my office?"
"Music."
"Music?"
"Yes, music."
"Can you describe it?"
"It was strange. I've never heard anything like it before. If I didn't know better I'd say it was Phoenix song."
"Phoenix song? You know what a Phoenix is?"
"Yes. It's a sacred bird, like Fawkes."
"How do you know about Fawkes?"
"The books."
"What books?"
"The Harry Potter books. You should read them, they're very good."
"What are the names of these books?"
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The sixth one, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, should be coming out next year."
"At what point in Mr. Potter's life do these books begin?"
"His first year."
A horror struck look passed between the two teachers, but Emma's potion- induced stupor did not allow her to witness this spectacle.
"Who's been writing these books?"
"J.K. Rowling."
"Is she a Muggle?"
"Yes."
"How does she know about the wizarding world then?"
"She made it up."
"The books, or the wizarding world?"
"Both."
"How do explain Hogwarts then?"
"It doesn't exist, it can't."
"How would you get to Hogwarts if it did exist?"
"It doesn't exist."
Dumbledore turned to McGonagall with a raised eyebrow. "Rather stubborn on that point isn't she?"
McGonagall snorted. "She's a bit stubborn on all points."
Dumbledore turned back to the unmoving girl on his couch. "Always assuming that Hogwarts did exist, how would you get here?"
"Inter-dimensionary travel is always a possibility."
"Would you care to explain this theory?"
"Not particularly."
"In detail, what is your theory?"
"The human brain is a pretty complex thing. It's my theory that the human sub conscience is able to link up with the sub consciences of other sentient beings, and that it is the experiences of this mass of intelligence that creates the human intelligence and imagination. Some people however, are able to see into the lives of people throughout the multiverse, and thinking it to be some sort of story idea, they simply write it down, and many become stories. We see these stories as different dimensions, or alternate universes."
"How could one travel from one of these universes to another?"
"There would have to be some sort of hole in the time space continuum, and someone would have to be sucked into it."
"Time-space continuum?"
"Yes."
"What's that?"
"A word."
McGonagall made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat.
"What is the time-space continuum?" Dumbledore rephrased
"The flow of all matter and energy in the multiverse."
"Oh."
Emma remained silent.
"So, you're from a different universe?"
"It would appear that way."
"Do you have any other ideas you wish to share with us?"
"No, for the most part."
"Do you have any other ideas?"
"Yes."
"What are they?"
"What are what?"
"Cheeky, isn't she?" McGonagall commented.
"What are your other ideas?" Dumbledore said, completely ignoring his Deputy Headmistress.
"I could be having an incredibly realistic dream, or I could have finally cracked."
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I suppose you aren't considered entirely stable, then?"
"You could say that."
Dumbledore reached inside his robes and produced an antidote, dripping the liquid down Emma's throat. She coughed for a bit before returning to reality. "I have to honestly say that this is the most anomalous thing to ever happen to me." she stated, absent-mindedly rubbing her temples. "And that's even considering that I'm not entirely convinced that this is real."
"You've just been questioned under the effects of Veritaserum, and you still aren't convinced that this is real!" said McGonagall in ire.
"Truth serums do exist." Emma shot back "The fact that I was able to resist the effects of what ever it was than was in that glass does point to the fact that this is some sort of elaborate hoax. Veritaserum is supposed to be all-powerful, isn't it?"
"I can see that we should offer you some corroboration." said Dumbledore amusedly. He flicked his wand nonchalantly, and the morning's paper zoomed in Emma's lap.
"Wow..."
She stared in marvel at the moving picture displaying a portly man with a lime-green hat motioning forcefully, as though in the midst of a speech, and the glanced quickly down at the caption, which read "Newly elected Minister of Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, announced today that he would push for Britain to host the next World Cup, among other things, during his inauguration speech yesterday in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren." Still in a light sense of shock, she gazed around the letterhead of the Prophet, eyes rolling over to the upper right hand corner of the paper. Then her eyes froze, widening in horror as they read, and re-read the ten characters printed there. All color drained from her face, and her entire body began to shake violently. The paper slipped from her fingers, gliding gently to the floor.
"No." she said whispered in horror. "No. Nononononononononono."
She had fallen asleep on the night of July 30, 2004, fully expecting to wake up the next day, namely July 31, 2004. But that was not the date typed so standardly on the top right corner of the paper.
It was July 31, 1991.
To say that it was the weirdest thing to ever happen to her would be a gross under statement. To say that it was the most freakishly bizarre thing to ever happen in the history of the multiverse would be more, if not completely, accurate.
Emma Rexi Uton was a semi-average 14-year-old. Notice the past tense. To say that she was anything remotely related to normal anymore would be another gross understatement, and not the last.
It all started when her perfectly teenaged dream of high school was rather rudely interrupted by some unearthly music. At the time she didn't mind, because the music was so awe-inspiring and enchanting that she could focus on nothing else. If had, she might have noticed the swirling whirlpool of colors that had haunted her sub-consciousness since her creation enveloping her, or the tall motherly figure approaching her.
"Sleep well my child, for tomorrow all things shall come to pass." she murmured, bending low over Emma and slipping a small object into her pocket. But she was not to know, for her mind had already slipped into the strange realm of dreams.
"Albus, who is she?" a voice laden with a Scottish accent broke through Emma's slumber like a hot knife through butter. Still half asleep, she contented herself to listen groggily to the strangers conversation.
"I do not know, Minerva, but when she awakes I intend to find out." a wizened old voice commented.
"Perhaps we should wake her now. Merlin knows, some answers would be nice." the Scottish voice spoke again.
"Minerva, I do believe you're right." the old voice replied. There was a sound of chairs scraping the floor and then something thin and wooden was touched to her temple. "Ennervate"
It was as though energy was flowing from the thin thing into herself, sparking her awake. She opened one eye, took in her surroundings, and then bolted upright.
The room she was in was unsettlingly familiar, but it shouldn't, couldn't, be real, just as the two people standing before her with very bemused expressions on their faces didn't exist.
"What the... who... where... how...?" she spluttered before getting a grip on herself and promptly pinching her arm hard. Nerve cells picked up the futile gesture and pain promptly sparked. Blinking bewilderedly, she shook her head as though she thought she could banish the room before her with the movement.
"Okay, I'm not dreaming." she stated, still blinking rapidly.
"I should certainty hope so." smiled the old man with the long beard and twinkling blue eyes-Albus Dumbledore. "What ever would that make Minerva and I?"
"Really odd figments of my imagination." Emma replied, distractedly rubbing her forehead.
"Allow me to introduce myself." continued Albus Dumbledore regally "I am Albus Percival Wolfrick Brian Dumbledore, and this is Minerva Athens McGonagall, or Professor McGonagall to you. And you are?"
"Seriously weirded out." Emma muttered "But most everyone calls me Emma."
"Well Miss Out." McGonagall coughed disapprovingly "Would you care to explain how you ended up here?"
Emma shot her a questioning look. "I'm completely in the dark about that."
The two adults exchanged glances, and Dumbledore reached behind him and pulled out a glass of water. "Here, drink this."
Emma did what she was told and swallowed the entire glass whole, and the promptly slumped forward.
Dumbledore watched the Veritaserum take hold on the adolescent in front of him with a pang of regret. Still, it was for a worthy cause, because if this girl was the person he suspected her to be, then she could be their salvation.
Or their downfall.
"Can you hear me." he questioned
"Yes." came the reply
"What is your name?"
"Emma Rexi Uton."
"How did you come here?"
"I don't know."
"What is the last thing you remember before waking up in my office?"
"Music."
"Music?"
"Yes, music."
"Can you describe it?"
"It was strange. I've never heard anything like it before. If I didn't know better I'd say it was Phoenix song."
"Phoenix song? You know what a Phoenix is?"
"Yes. It's a sacred bird, like Fawkes."
"How do you know about Fawkes?"
"The books."
"What books?"
"The Harry Potter books. You should read them, they're very good."
"What are the names of these books?"
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The sixth one, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, should be coming out next year."
"At what point in Mr. Potter's life do these books begin?"
"His first year."
A horror struck look passed between the two teachers, but Emma's potion- induced stupor did not allow her to witness this spectacle.
"Who's been writing these books?"
"J.K. Rowling."
"Is she a Muggle?"
"Yes."
"How does she know about the wizarding world then?"
"She made it up."
"The books, or the wizarding world?"
"Both."
"How do explain Hogwarts then?"
"It doesn't exist, it can't."
"How would you get to Hogwarts if it did exist?"
"It doesn't exist."
Dumbledore turned to McGonagall with a raised eyebrow. "Rather stubborn on that point isn't she?"
McGonagall snorted. "She's a bit stubborn on all points."
Dumbledore turned back to the unmoving girl on his couch. "Always assuming that Hogwarts did exist, how would you get here?"
"Inter-dimensionary travel is always a possibility."
"Would you care to explain this theory?"
"Not particularly."
"In detail, what is your theory?"
"The human brain is a pretty complex thing. It's my theory that the human sub conscience is able to link up with the sub consciences of other sentient beings, and that it is the experiences of this mass of intelligence that creates the human intelligence and imagination. Some people however, are able to see into the lives of people throughout the multiverse, and thinking it to be some sort of story idea, they simply write it down, and many become stories. We see these stories as different dimensions, or alternate universes."
"How could one travel from one of these universes to another?"
"There would have to be some sort of hole in the time space continuum, and someone would have to be sucked into it."
"Time-space continuum?"
"Yes."
"What's that?"
"A word."
McGonagall made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat.
"What is the time-space continuum?" Dumbledore rephrased
"The flow of all matter and energy in the multiverse."
"Oh."
Emma remained silent.
"So, you're from a different universe?"
"It would appear that way."
"Do you have any other ideas you wish to share with us?"
"No, for the most part."
"Do you have any other ideas?"
"Yes."
"What are they?"
"What are what?"
"Cheeky, isn't she?" McGonagall commented.
"What are your other ideas?" Dumbledore said, completely ignoring his Deputy Headmistress.
"I could be having an incredibly realistic dream, or I could have finally cracked."
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I suppose you aren't considered entirely stable, then?"
"You could say that."
Dumbledore reached inside his robes and produced an antidote, dripping the liquid down Emma's throat. She coughed for a bit before returning to reality. "I have to honestly say that this is the most anomalous thing to ever happen to me." she stated, absent-mindedly rubbing her temples. "And that's even considering that I'm not entirely convinced that this is real."
"You've just been questioned under the effects of Veritaserum, and you still aren't convinced that this is real!" said McGonagall in ire.
"Truth serums do exist." Emma shot back "The fact that I was able to resist the effects of what ever it was than was in that glass does point to the fact that this is some sort of elaborate hoax. Veritaserum is supposed to be all-powerful, isn't it?"
"I can see that we should offer you some corroboration." said Dumbledore amusedly. He flicked his wand nonchalantly, and the morning's paper zoomed in Emma's lap.
"Wow..."
She stared in marvel at the moving picture displaying a portly man with a lime-green hat motioning forcefully, as though in the midst of a speech, and the glanced quickly down at the caption, which read "Newly elected Minister of Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, announced today that he would push for Britain to host the next World Cup, among other things, during his inauguration speech yesterday in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren." Still in a light sense of shock, she gazed around the letterhead of the Prophet, eyes rolling over to the upper right hand corner of the paper. Then her eyes froze, widening in horror as they read, and re-read the ten characters printed there. All color drained from her face, and her entire body began to shake violently. The paper slipped from her fingers, gliding gently to the floor.
"No." she said whispered in horror. "No. Nononononononononono."
She had fallen asleep on the night of July 30, 2004, fully expecting to wake up the next day, namely July 31, 2004. But that was not the date typed so standardly on the top right corner of the paper.
It was July 31, 1991.