A/N: I am EXTREMELY excited to finally unveil this story. It's my finest work yet, and I can guarantee that you are really going to enjoy it, especially once you really start getting into it (Chapters 1-3 are all exposition, but once you get past that, the story really starts to pick up).

I'll give you the background: Voldemort won, Harry died, and the entire wizarding community is suffering. Voldemort's war spreads out of Europe and into the rest of the world, his supporters multiplying and with it the damages. The line dividing the magical and muggle world starts to blur as muggles are slaughtered by the thousands by the death eaters. Everything is falling apart. The resistance, what remains of it, is struggling for any solution to the Voldemort menace, and a young woman named Johanna McDonnel volunteers to sacrifice herself. The war has cost her a great deal and she feels as though she has nothing left to lose. The idea here is that she'll be sent back to Hogwarts during the 1940s and do whatever it takes to eliminate Riddle there. Things don't exactly go as planned though...

Now I know realistically that time travel in such a dramatic form isn't possible or at least hasn't been exhibited safely in the Harry Potter universe, but I'm taking creative license here. It's magic people; anything is possible! This fic is going to explore a variety of themes as well as delve into the scientific side of magic as seen in Harry Potter (which, being the huge nerd that I am, I couldn't just avoid). A lot of the fic will take place in the 1940s, but that's not to say that we won't see our favorite golden trio (hint hint we will). I have to deal with the consequences of time travel, paradoxes, and altering the fabric of the very universe, now don't I?

I've had more fun writing this fic than I probably should've; Johanna is, by far, one of my favorite characters I've ever written - she definitely seems more human and realistic than many others. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

As always, read and review! Enjoy you lovely Potterheads!

I remember the sky first.

Gray.

Not a dead gray, but a deep one. Tainted by underwhelming blues and purples. Highlighted by white veins, pumping rain throughout the heart of the sky. Occasionally, there'd be a low growl, rumbling ominously from above.

Next a book.

Small and bonny blue, like Aurora's eyes. With soft corners and smooth edges like Aurora herself.

She was talking all about it, her hands waving about the way they always did whenever she was excited. Aurora, my precious Rory, always stood tiptoe, too. Slightly suspended on the balls of her feet, her arms floating at her sides. She looked like a bird—a small one—ready to take flight at the first sign of danger.

I'd taken her out that day. She'd never been before, never fought in one of the battles, and I thought the setting would be perfect for her first time. She'd begged and begged and begged for me to take her. "But Jo, I'm tough," She'd blurted. "I want to help, and before you argue, I can take care of myself. I'm not your baby sister anymore." She was right. She wasn't.

But I should've known… should've realized. They warned me about different, darker spells. Death Eaters more powerful than anything I'd ever known. But I never listened. Because I was invincible. Such things didn't apply to me.

And then suddenly they did. Suddenly I wasn't invincible anymore and suddenly Rory, darling Rory was dying and it was because of me…

I swallowed. Hard. My throat bobbed angrily up and down as I did so. Focus, I told myself, and I did. The sound of footsteps brought me back to earth—my footsteps. It was me who stormed down the marble corridor in a flutter of nerves. It was my pulse that skyrocketed with each step I took. Again, I swallowed. Perhaps I'll have a heart attack, I thought. Maybe today it'll end – a simple jolt, the squeeze of cardiac arrest.

The stone surrounding me cackled at the thought. I released another puff of air and carried on.

There was a certain briskness about me—an urgency, if you will. Part of it came from panic, the knowledge of what I was preparing to do. Part of it came from hope, knowing what would result from my actions. And part of it came from fear, the fear of being stopped. There was no way I would allow that. I'd come too far.

What I was doing. Why I was doing it. Thoughts of both danced in my head, making me dizzy. I tightened my jaw and raised my chin. One. Two. Three steps. The marble floors the hallway jeered in laughter. Four. Five. Six steps. I was taunted as I plunged deep, deeper into the depths. Something gnawed at my stomach, but I let it go – deep breaths. I was baptized in the quiet, and numbness filled me. Every other emotion left, every trace of fear, every sliver of vengeance and self-righteousness so that all I was left with was a hollow hole, riddled with the pungent perfume of anxiety.

I turned a sharp right; my cloak billowing around me as I headed east down another dismal corridor. In another time, this place might have been grand – marvelous even. With its dazzling marble walls and labyrinthine structure. But now it had lost its original glamour. The once startlingly white color had become a desolate grey, the intricate tapestries had faded, and even the astonishing, ineffably beautiful carvings that littered the premises had crumbled over time.

My musing was interrupted, however, by the overbearing presence of a door. It glared at me from the end of the corridor. I gripped the handle and flung it open. What met me was not a surprise. Sloping ceiling. Gothic furniture. A woman. Who she was wasn't important. It was what she did that was of value. All of us – we were only the sum of our actions.

"I'm surprised you were on time," The woman remarked. The door snapped shut behind me. "The others took their time to linger."

My face was stoic as I responded, "If I took the time to linger I would've changed my mind and run."

She scoffed. "Right. Of course you would've," and upon carefully observing me she added, "If that's the case are you sure you're up for this? This isn't something that-"

"I'm certain," I replied, my voice distant, and I held her soft gaze with a tumultuous one of my own. "I've got this once chance to make things right again, for all of them, for her in particular. Let me take it."

Her tone was soft when she spoke, "Johanna, this isn't your responsibility-"

"I have to do this," I said. "When Harry died it became everyone's responsibility. We all do what we have to do to fight this war, and this is what I have to do." I cleared my throat. "I'll do whatever it takes to save them."

"Right then, did you bring what I asked for?" She inquired, her motherly voice taking on a soldier like urgent tone. It was clear that she'd done this before.

I nodded, placed a hand into my pocket, and withdrew a small bag. She snatched it up, her long, thin fingers working nimbly to untie the string around it. The bag opened and she extracted an even smaller pouch that held several small stones I had gathered from a nearby river, an empty vial, and a pocket watch. With a dramatic pause she set these three items on the desk in front of her and rose from her position, turning behind her to a series of cabinets and pulling out a small cauldron, a vial filled with a murky teal substance, and a piece of white chalk, the latter of which she thrust into my hand. "Get to work on drawing out the magic circle and setting up the stones. I need to finish the incantation and fill the other vial."

I set to work, drawing an intricate array of lines across the icy floor of the office. By the time I had finished, the bone-chilling cold of the stone floor had seeped deep into me, and I could feel it, along with my anxiety, beginning to cascade into one foreboding feeling of dread.

I bit back the feeling, although it was still gnawing away at me from inside, and set up the stones, each at a point of the rune circle and each with a separate rune carved into their surface. She was busying herself, her eyes closed as she whispered to an object in her hands. The pocket watch.

With a soft hissing sound, she stopped speaking, the watch in her hand glowing a faint purplish color as her eyes flashed open.

"Alright." She hesitated a moment, her eyes flickering over me before she spoke again. "This is your last chance. If you don't stop now there's no going back."

I let a derisive tsk escape my mouth before I responded. "Good."

"We have two minutes and thirty-seven seconds." She announced, and suddenly the watch was tossed across the room. I darted out an arm and snatched it from the air. She hesitated a moment, her eyes flickering over me before she spoke again. "Do you remember the story?"

"Of course. I arrived from Beauxbatons via Portkey," I lifted the watch in my hand, "however my papers were unable to be transferred ahead of me because of Grindelwald's and the German's current occupation of France. I am transferring because conditions at Beauxbatons were unsavory, and Hogwarts doesn't have the same threat of dark wizards or bombs."

"Good, good. And remember to think about where and most importantly when you want to end up." She went on. "We wouldn't want you winding up in Ireland three weeks in the wrong direction. The magic circle provides some protection, but Merlin knows that you're the one who-"

"I know, Andromeda!" I blurted, causing her to purse her lips.

She paused, and I thought she was going to say some words of comfort. Instead, she pressed a vial into my hands. "Drink up."

I was thankful for the lack of sentimentality.

I obeyed and removed the stopper, dumping the vile contents into my mouth. It tasted, smelt, and felt repugnant, like thick, hot, mottled blood. The substance stuck to my throat like mucus, and I almost gagged.

My body began to relax as the potion took its effect in, and the woman across from me took the vial and replaced it with a dagger and a clean vial – the one I had brought. Her eyebrows were raised in expectation. I gritted my teeth and pulled the blade across my palm. A stream of scarlet greeted me, and I opened my hand. Droplets of blood fell onto the edge of the magic circle. Onto the pocket watch. Into the empty vial.

"Be safe my child."

Andromeda squeezed me in an unprecedented embrace and extracted the dagger and the vial from my hands.

"I will."

She ushered me into the center of the circle, and with a wave of her wand extinguished the many candles that lit the room. Stepping back, her chocolatey eyes landed on a pair of the enormous windows that surrounded us on all sides, her breath baited, waiting. I swallowed hard and felt the strap of the small satchel I'd brought digging into my shoulder.

The night pressed in all around us like a thick silken blanket, snuffing any whisper of light that dared appear. I could hardly see more than a few feet in front of me, only able to make out nefarious shadows that grinned madly at me from their various corners of the room. I had never been one to take Divination seriously, but even I could tell that it was a bad omen.

I squinted, trying desperately to see, but it was no use. The dark ebony that swam around me was thicker than blood that continued to drip from my hand.

And suddenly, just as I thought I could no longer stand the suffocating darkness that surrounded us, I was relieved. The moon began to rise, and the darkness around us fractured, dazzling beams of light splintering through our surroundings and casting magnificent patterns onto the marble floor.

The stones around me began to glow, a deep, bloodied red, and the woman that had helped me to arrange all of this began to chant, her voice low and monotone as a string of Latin rolled out of her mouth. I stared around me, unblinking, watching as the moon continued to rise, the entire room now bathed in the pallid, unearthly light. I paused, taking in the scene, listening to her sonorous voice as it rolled over each syllable. The marble floor almost looked like an ocean now, the black and white mixing with crackling waves of red.

I tightened my hands into fists, trying to stopper the blood that fell from my palm.

And suddenly I felt light; I felt… weightless, as though I could simply float away. No longer was I in the marble room on the earthen planet, but I was simply… away. Every attachment I had to the mortal realm seemed to leave my body as I extended to another plane of existence. I no longer felt, I simply was. I did not breathe, nor did I have the need for a heartbeat, I was thought and energy, I was lightning bolt clarity and neon flashes of insight. Eccentricity and intelligence were my languages, and no longer did I need a human tongue. My body was knowledge, my soul effervescence. I was alien and unnatural, and yet I could still feel my humanity gnawing away at my innards. I lived thousands of years in the span of a second. I was eternal and ageless, and I saw the universe laid out before me, from the moment of the beginning of time to the end and suddenly I thought, I remembered why I was there, that I couldn't remain there forever, though I desperately wished too.

The distant image of an office came into my mind, and the more I thought about it the more it was. And with a sudden jolt, I was ripped from the other dimension and flung without warning into a body. I came crashing into reality, my mind spinning and my hands shaking as I fell, down, down, and yet further down, praying that I might end up somewhere near where I had originally intended to go.