Jo took a deep breath and clutched the straps of her pack as she looked up the trail leading to the summit. She had always loved hiking, and when she saw a discounted flight alert pop into her email for Scottland, she knew that the Highlands would be a key destination. She was from Colorado and was equipped to handle the altitude easily. She was grateful for it, too, because it allowed her to cover more ground and fully experience the lochs, glens, and mountains.

She sipped from her water bottle and began trekking up the mountain once more. Her ears caught the sound of a twig snapping, and her gaze fell upon a red deer only yards away. A smile formed on her lips and she whispered to the animal that everything was okay and cautiously took a few more steps so as not to startle it further. She needed this, she thought to herself. It had been a tough few years whenever she felt that she had caught a break something else would come along to try and trip her up. She had made it through leaving an abusive relationship, the loss of her grandmother who raised her and braved cancer. She was not unscathed by any means. Each tribulation left a scar, some visible, others less so. This trip was her way of coming to terms with the surgery that saved her life but stole any chance of having a child.

Her hands barely glanced the birch trees as she walked on the path as her heart began to ache thinking about it. She scolded herself. It wasn't as if she had a partner and they were planning on raising children. She never gave them much thought until she knew she wouldn't be able to have any. The only thing she had really looked forward to in an esoteric way was reading the Harry Potter books to them. Subconsciously she knew that was why she jumped at the chance to visit Scotland. Of course, she loved the outdoors, and backpacking, and traveling, and experiencing new culture-but those books were something reassuring and steadfast in her childhood and something she always went back to in adulthood when she was down or needed comfort. She knew those books cover to cover and it felt like visiting old friends. Traveling to the land where they took place, seemed magical.

The dirt crunched beneath her feet. She was steps from the top now. The anticipation of the vista was growing. Typically she always followed proper signage about following designated paths, but when it forked back a few days ago on her journey, she felt the inexplicable desire to take the track that looked like a deer trail littered with spear thistle. Her grandmother would have chided her for losing her head, but something was calling her that way, and she had no place to be and no real itinerary, so she took the path of most resistance. She hoped her choice paid off.

Four steps at most. Three. The horizon was now visible. Two. Her heart was thumping from the exertion and excitement. One. She saw something that looked like giant children's bubble wands in the distance sticking straight up from the ground. What the heck?

POP. POP.

Her gaze left the odd sight as she spun to try and find the source of the noise. Fear and confusion swept her as she tried to process what she was seeing. There were two men just feet away from her. One was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver in his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He wore vibrant purple robes that stopped at his ankles which revealed bright, black, buckled boots. His face was lined, but his eyes were a bright, twinkling blue that peered at her curiously over half-moon glasses.

The other was also tall and thin, but that was where the similarities ended. He had sallow skin, a large hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair that framed his face. His eyes were cold and black, matching his billowing robes. He held a stick and was pointing it directly at Jo ominously.

Jo had neither flight nor fight instinct. If she thought about it, she would liken her response to a terrified rabbit who just sits very still hoping that it wasn't seen despite all evidence to the contrary.

"Ah, Severus. You appear to be frightening the woman. Lower your wand. She means us no harm." He said the words gently, but there was no mistaking that it was a command. Severus begrudgingly lowered the wand.

Jo's mind was racing. Two men appeared with a pop out of nowhere, wearing robes, holding wands, and one was named Severus. She still was frozen to the spot, not daring to move. Was this real?

"My dear," the older wizard looked at her kindly and took a step towards her. "I must ask how you managed to come all this way. Did you not notice the trespassing signs or have any desire to turn about when faced with obstacles along the path? Perhaps you remembered things you had forgotten to do that needed to be seen to?"

Suddenly, Jo felt that she could move again. She wet her lips and swallowed. He mouth was parched as she tried to speak.

"I just enjoy hiking." She managed feebly. He nodded for her to continue. "I didn't see a sign explicitly telling me I was trespassing. I did ignore some a ways back advising me to stay on the trail. I don't know. Something just urged me to come this way, I suppose. I didn't mean any trouble by it, I swear."

"Headmaster, really, I have things to do. Can't we just perform the charm and go?" Severus caustically provided this question without looking at his target as his eyes remained fixed on her. The question broke her out of her reverie. Charm. It must be. However, unlikely, it must be. Her heart pounded.

"Please don't." She pleaded. "Please, I think I know who you are and if I'm right, I don't want to forget."

"And who do you think we are, Miss..." The Headmaster's voice trailed expectantly.

"My name is Jo Harper, and I think that you are Albus Dumbledore." She turned to Severus. "And that you are Severus Snape." Severus's wand raised immediately.

"What kind of trick is this? Is she not a muggle? Who are you?" He demanded.

"Severus." The Headmaster rebuked and used his hand to forcibly lower the other man's wand. "Miss Harper, like my colleague here I am also curious how you know us. I detect no magical signature from you and don't recall any Squibbs by your name."

"I... um. Well. I am not magical. Definitely a muggle." She started but was cut off before she could continue.

"Then how do you know of our kind?" Severus bit back at her.

"Well, from the books about you. There are seven. I read them when I was 11 and frequently thereafter. But they must not be entirely accurate."

"And why is that my dear?" The Headmaster asked kindly his eyes twinkling at her.

"Oh. Well... Bit awkward I suppose, but neither of you survives the stories."

At this, the Headmaster chortled a little. "Learning of one's hopefully fictional demise is a bit, how did you put it? Ah yes, awkward. Still, I would be keen on hearing the tale, but perhaps a change of venue would be better? My knees aren't what they used to be, and this ground is very hard. Would you mind taking my arm?"

"Headmaster, I must protest. The Dark Lord may be gone, vanquished by that infant but his followers would delight in besting you."

"Severus I see no malice in her mind. She is telling the truth. You see it too." Jo bristled at the thought that they were so casually reading her mind.

"It would be foolhardy to believe I was the only Occlumens in the Dark Lords employ."

Her hand wavered just over the Headmaster's arm. "Vanquished when? How? You say, infant... you mean Harry Potter? How old is he now?"

"Curious questions Miss Harper. Voldemort-" Snape winced as Dumbledore continued seamlessly, "fell nearly ten years ago. Harry just celebrated his eleventh birthday."

Jo's face turned white as a sheet. "It hasn't happened yet!" She saw the puzzlement on Dumbledore's face. "My stories, they take place when he is at Hogwarts. Sir, if they're true, the lives we could save."

At this Severus glared at her. "I see nothing of these books in her mind, and it's not like it's a complex one. I implore you, Headmaster, to wipe her mind, and be done with it. She offers no proof."

"Please, I know things about you that Death Eaters wouldn't." She bit her lip as she contemplated what to say. "Professor Dumbledore you have a scar of the London Underground on your knee. Professor Snape, your Patronus is a doe."

Severus glared at her, while Dumbledore looked pensive. "To Severus's point, that isn't necessarily something that Voldemort's followers wouldn't know."

She felt sick. She had to come up with something. The only things that came to mind were dark though. She did not know how well they would go over.

"Sir I apologize, it might seem an invasion of privacy, but I know what happened with Ariana. She was attacked by muggles as a child. It left her frail and damaged, and she did not control her magic well. Your mother died shortly after you completed your studies. You went back to Godric's Hollow after one of Ariana's outbursts killed your mother and watched over her so Aberforth could continue his education-"

"That's enough Miss Harper." His eyes did not twinkle. He looked distraught. Severus, on the other hand, looked intrigued but remained silent. "Take my arm, please. Let's head to the castle."

Jo silently took his arm and gazed towards her original path. Past the giant loops in the distance was a castle. With two pops, the Scottish Highlands where they stood was vacant.