Disclaimer: 'Stargate' and 'Harry Potter' both belong to their respective creators, so I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for the immediate moment in time and space

Feedback: I'd like it, believe me

AN: For 'Stargate: SG-1', this story will be set mid-way through the ninth season, just after 'Ripple Effect' (Where multiple alternate SG-1s came through the Stargate due to interference in the Stargate system caused by a black hole), so the SG-1 team is currently commanded by Cameron Mitchell and there is no Vala anywhere (I don't really like what I've heard about her anyway). I should mention in advance that my experience of Mitchell is limited, so any points of advice that you can give me about his character would be greatly appreciated. For 'Harry Potter', this is set several years after the as-yet-unpublished seventh book; since no specific date for the events in the books was ever given (One date on a cake is hardly an accurate piece of information by which to date an entire series), assume that Harry left Hogwarts about a decade before the 'Stargate' movie and take the dating system from there

Truth and Revelations

As he returned to his apartment complex that night, after what had to go down as an odd day even by the standards of the SG-1 team, Daniel Jackson wondered to himself when his life had reached the point where, when his job consisted of travelling to other planets through a massive stone circle constructed millennia ago, it took something like alternate universes to make a day qualify as odd.

He still couldn't understand how things had changed so rapidly, and in such a short space of time, all those years ago. When he'd started his archaeology and language courses in college (After overcoming all the problems of applying for university positions despite his… unusual… education), he'd only been expecting to achieve a certain level of interest from the general public, as well as maybe feel the thrill of the occasional archaeological dig in Egypt and other places.

Then, of course, he'd developed his theories about the pyramids, been shunned by most of the archaeological community, and ended up being contacted by the Stargate program to translate the symbols that would reactivate the 'gate for that infamous first mission to Abydos and the battle against Ra. From there, it had been an unexpected marriage to a native of another planet, followed by a year on the same planet before he finally returned to Earth and ended up as the front line of defence against the forces of the Goa'uld, working with two members of the air force and the former leader of the army of the man who'd taken his wife...

God, life could be stupidly difficult sometimes.

How had things in his new life developed from a few archaeological theories into this- a world where he went to other planets on an almost daily basis, and where even just the possibility of alternate realities seemed as casual to him as the idea of other countries was to the general population of the planet?

He'd gone to lengths that he'd never believed possible to make a more peaceful life for himself in archaeology and general academia- he still couldn't believe some of his more elaborate methods to keep his secret had paid off- and here he was, in just as much trouble as he'd experienced before he'd made the decision to use his less obvious talents to make his way in the world, once again risking life and limb on a regular basis for everyone else.

Can't something go according to plan for once? Daniel asked himself, as he opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside, shrugging off his shoes and jacket as he slumped down into a chair to think for a while. I mean, it was hard enough setting up a life away from… all that… and now here I am fighting off an alien invasion of Earth as part of an elite team that the public doesn't even know exists! This is not what I had in mind!

But even as those thoughts flashed through Daniel's mind, he had to admit that, despite his mental protests, he genuinely did enjoy his work in SG-1, even if he was constantly put in a position where he had to risk life and limb- indeed, even if he was the member of the team most likely to end up dead while on a mission.

If nothing else, this time around, he was in a position to save the world because he'd asked for it, rather than it just being forced on him according to something that had happened to him when he was too young to even fully understand what was going on.

He hadn't been asked to join the original Stargate program because of his name, but because of his talents as an Egyptologist; Catherine Langford had genuinely wanted him for what he could no, not what she thought he could do.

He'd made a place for himself on the team, rather than having to step into a place that everyone expected him to take because of something he hadn't had any control over.

Any victories he'd achieved or friendships he'd formed had been formed because of who he was personally, rather than just because people expected him to be capable of great feats due to his name.

And-

No, Daniel thought, stopping that train of thought before it could start.

He couldn't start thinking about her again- even after all this time, the pain of her loss still hurt him terribly.

He would always remember her and the love they'd shared for that brief time, but he couldn't start thinking about her again.

That would only lead him back to thinking about Sha're- another woman he'd loved and been unable to save- and, from there, it would only be a matter of time before he reached another topic he really didn't want to have to deal with…

Sighing in frustration, Daniel removed his glasses, put them on the table beside his chair, and leaned forward, clasping his head in his hands.

It was at times like this- when he began to reflect on his past-that he couldn't believe how complicated his life had become in the last few years, apart from the obvious detail of the Stargate program itself. True, his life had hardly been a picnic back in the old days, but at least it had been less confusing, to say nothing of being more straightforward. At least back then his foes had only had a certain amount of places to hide, and the two sides of the conflict had possessed equal resources rather than one of them being drastically ahead of the other.

These days, the people he was dealing with had an entire galaxy to hide in, and commonly possessed resources that his side couldn't equal on a long-term basis, no matter how hard they tried.

But there was another difference this time around, Daniel reminded himself.

The first time around, he'd been forced to fight on his own.

Oh, he'd had friends who were willing to help him, of course, but when it came down to the final battle, he'd always known that it would come down to him and his foe, on their own, when it was all or nothing.

This time around, he could ask for help. As with the Goa'uld (Of which there were admittedly still a few left) and the Replicators, there was nothing to say it had to come down to just him and the Ori; the rest of Stargate Command in general, and SG-1 in particular, would always be there to help him when the final confrontation between the two sides became inevitable

OK, Daniel wouldn't deny that, in the final confrontation, he'd helped stop the Replicators and Anubis for good, but he maintained that he'd only contributed to getting the foes in question into a position that would allow Carter and Oma Desala respectively to actually finish them off. He'd helped but, in the end, it hadn't all been on his shoulders.

Sighing, Daniel stood up and walked over to his bedroom; he couldn't afford to dwell on his past, not when the Ori were still a potential threat, to say nothing of the Goa'uld who might remain active out there. SG-1 was scheduled to make another reconnaissance mission of a new Stargate address tomorrow morning, and he should probably get a decent sleep before he was called in; he was no good to anybody tired. Shrugging out of his clothes, he climbed into bed and closed his eyes…

And then he fell…

Alone.

Every night, as the dream began, he would always fall, and he was always falling alone.

The way it will be… a part of him thought to himself, the only part of him that he seemed to retain conscious control over in this state, although what the 'it' was his mind was referring to he could never work out.

Then he hit the floor, already standing upright, and he was standing in the corridor that had become a more familiar sight to him now in his sleep than any other dream he'd ever had.

As always, despite his best intentions, he found himself walking down the corridor towards the door at the other end, looking at the windows that covered the walls of the corridor as he walked past them.

From the earliest loss of all- so early he could barely even remember it- to the most recent- when Teal'c was forced to kill Sha're- they were all here.

In one window, he could only watch as his mother's life was brutally cut short simply for trying to save his own…

In the next, a friend was cut down by his foe simply because of a suggestion he'd made landing them in a trap…

The third window, and his godfather was beginning the fall that would kill him, all because he had wanted to save him for being so stupid as to walk into an elaborate deception set up by his enemy…

His mentor, murdered by a man he thought he could trust, only in such a position because of his desire to help his student…

His closest friend, cut down in a desperate attempt to recover the artefact that could spell the difference between victory or failure against their adversary…

And then they came.

The two that would always hurt the most, no matter what else took place in his life.

The deaths of the women he had loved.

The first one, lying where she had fallen after the fatal blow had been struck, her red hair spread out behind her, mixed with the blood from the head injury, as the traitor stood above her, laughing at him as he held his weapon in one hand…

And Sha're, under the control of Amonet, being shot by Teal'c as the Goa'uld within her turned a ribbon device on him in an attempt to kill one of the team that had been a thorn in the side of her and her husband, Apophis, for so long…

Every night, as he woke up, he wished that he didn't have to go through this dream.

And every night, as he went to sleep, he knew that he would have it again.

And he knew that, as he reached the door at the other end of the corridor, the final moments of the dream were coming.

By this point, he knew that he would be desperately thrashing around in his bed, trying on some level to wake up even if he knew that he could do nothing but wait until the dream had finished.

As he walked the last few feet towards the door, he vaguely caught a glimpse of other deaths- the destruction of Abydos by Anubis, the death of Jacob Carter- but neither of these fully grabbed his attention; unlike the others, he didn't constantly blame himself for causing them. Jacob Carter had willingly chosen to give his life to trigger the weapon that would defeat the Replicators, and Anubis had chosen Abydos purely by chance; just because he had tried to stop the half-Ascended Goa'uld didn't make it his fault that Anubis had attacked Abydos in the first place.

They weren't like the others; they would probably have taken place without his intervention.

But those early deaths…

No

They were his fault.

Even if Sha're had been taken as a host by chance more than anything else, a part of him still felt that Apophis had mainly chosen Sha're out of some perverse sense of revenge on the people who had killed his brother; after all, surely even Goa'uld had to have a sense of family...

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, his hand was already reaching for the handle of the door in front of him. Even as he was screaming inwardly at the thought of what he'd find on the other side, his hand had turned the door handle and opened the door before him…

And there they were, floating in the darkness before him, the darkness that seemed to suck in every other speck of light that entered it apart from these things…

Two narrow, blood-red eyes, glaring in his direction as he stared at them in rapidly-growing terror, terror that not even Anubis had managed to inspire in him…

They were the eyes of the man who had ruined his life.

Then the word was whispered in his mind, the word that always marked the moment before he would wake up, the moment where he almost wished the dream would continue so that he could find out more…

"Soon…"

As Daniel sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat already covering the sheets, he wasn't surprised that his heart was still beating at an accelerated rate; even after a few months, the dream still had the same reaction on his as it had the first time.

He just wasn't sure he'd ever get used to what he saw in the windows of that terrible corridor…

Everyone he'd failed to save- everyone who'd cared about him and died because of it- were all visible in those windows in their final moments, and he was forced to watch as the last shreds of life fled their bodies, knowing that they were only dead because of their association with him.

I left so I wouldn't have to remember, damnit! Daniel berated whatever was causing him to have these dreams in the first place. Can't we just forget about this and let me have a decent night's sleep? Hell, just focusing on Sha're and Jacob would be an improvement right now!

But despite his constant mental insistence that the dream was merely that- a dream- he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it than that.

That, somewhere out there, something really was coming from his past…

No, Daniel told himself.

That part of his life was over. His foe was dead, the woman he'd loved was dead, and, as far as the majority of people from that time were concerned, he was dead.

That was the end of the matter.

It had to be...