A/N: I promise there will be more interesting years........lots of james,
sirius, snape, and of course the golden trio. no use excluding all the hot
guys, and keep reading please....and always remember the magic word:
REVIEW!!yay! go team go! (and just in case you're wondering, i'm NOT a
cheerleader. i hate them. and if you're a cheerleader, no offense; i'm sure
you're a really, really nice person and you don't mean to do the world bad
by cheering)
December 21st, 1854 Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft
Lily awoke to a feeling of warmth and comfort. She ran her fingers over the sheets she was now lying in, and inhaled. It smelled like healing wing Madam Luan healed everyone in.
"You should rest up a bit dear," a woman's voice advised her. It was in a very strange Cockney accent.
"Where am I?" Lily whispered.
"Hogwarts. You're in the infirmary, and you've taken a knocking to in the head."
"Oh," Lily turned around, her face pressing into her pillow, "I'm glad Professor Flitwick got me out."
"Pardon me?" the voice was nearer now, and she could feel a breeze when the woman stepped up to the bed's side.
"The Pensieve. I'm glad I'm out."
"Hmm. You should rest up more."
"Right."
Lily fell asleep.
She woke up again, to find a boy looming over her.
"Madam Kingsley requests you come with me. There's just been a bloody Quidditch game, and that's in the literal sense," he explained.
"Oh." Lily did feel better. "Well, okay."
The boy gave her a queer look, but said nothing. Lily climbed out of her hospital bed, and indeed there were many, many students with bloodied faces, broken arms, legs, and other various joints. There was just one problem: she didn't recognize any of them.
"Hmm."
"We'll take you to the headmaster," the boy decided, "He'll know what to do with you."
Lilly frowned.
"What do you mean, 'He'll know what to do with you'?"
The boy gave her another strange look, but then shrugged.
"You're not from around here, and we don't know how you got here. You were found just outside of the Forbidden Forest by our gamekeeper unconscious. I'm assuming you're a witch."
Lily just gaped at the boy.
"Of course I'm a witch. I've been going here for nearly two years."
The boy stopped walking. Lilly suddenly became all too aware of her surroundings. The castle looked pretty much the same, but devoid of some more modern decorating and fashion that Lilly had grown accustomed to. Whether or not wizards and witches liked to admit it, Muggle culture did heavily influence their choice of hairstyle or pop culture, and what she was seeing was nowhere near the circa 1970's era she knew and loved at Hogwarts.
Girls were very few in number and often stayed closer together than normal. Their hair was very stiff and formal, and under the school robes were pinched waists and billowing skirts. The boys also had more severe haircuts, wore strange shoes and pants, and some of the older boys, the ones in their sixth and seventh years, had long unstylish sideburns and mustaches.
Sideburns and mustaches were very hip in 1972, but somehow........now it just seemed wrong on these people. The boy who was looking at her in interest was her own age, almost thirteen. His hair was auburn, a reddish- brown color, and he had clear blue eyes. His nose was long and straight, his hands were large for his size with very long fingers, and he had what seemed to be a permanent curl of his right lips, giving the impression of a very friendly and appreciative humor-wise smirk.
"I—uh—
Lilly didn't know what to say.
"The headmaster........" the boy prompted her.
"Well, um. It's just that........" Lily shut her mouth. She would figure out everything with the headmaster, but the previous day's experiences came to her: the torn Pensieve images, the failed charm, Professor Flitwick's scream, and now waking up in a Hogwarts where she recognized no one and everyone was dressed and acting like something out of a Jane Austen book (a Muggle author).
Come to think of it, the boy did look a little familiar, but it was a fleeting thought, just a hint of deja vu. They were now walking towards Dumbledore's office. Lily was relieved; if anyone could reassure and explain everything to her, it was Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster.
The stone gargoyle was formidable as always, dutifully guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"Grindenwald," the boy spoke to the gargoyle.
Lily was about to object, to tell the boy that 'Grindenwald' would not be a password Dumbledore would choose, but to her surprise, the gargoyle moved upwards, creating a staircase. Uneasy, Lily followed the boy up to Dumbledore's office.
Sitting in a chair was Dumbledore, but his back was faced towards them. Still, Lily could recognize those hands with the long fingers anytime.
"Dumbledore, sir," the boy bowed his head, "There's some kind of strangeness going on."
"Sit down Albus. Have the girl sit down too."
Lily felt like her heart had jumped out of her throat, did a little jig on the desk, and jumped right back down her throat and into her chest cavity. The voice was not Dumbledore's. It was totally different, and did he just call the boy Albus?
No biggie. Albus was a common name wasn't it? The boy tugged Lily's robes, motioning for her to sit down. She consented.
The man swiveled around in his chair, and the first thing that came to Lily's mind was that he strongly resembled the Dumbledore she knew. He was an old man, not nearly as old as Albus Dumbledore, his face was all wrong though, and his hair was more white than silvery, but the man and the boy, Albus, shared the same clear blue eyes and hands.
"What is your name?" the man asked Lily kindly but firmly.
"Lily Evans," she choked up.
"Is there something wrong?" the man—Dumbledore—asked.
"Ah, um. Everything."
Dumbledore frowned, but the boy merely looked on with interest.
"How is everything wrong?" the boy asked with genuine curiosity. Again, Lily had a fleeting feeling of deja vu, but this time it was accompanied with an image of an older Albus Dumbledore asking a dancing first year Lily who had a frog in her robes if there was anything wrong in a polite way.
"This might sound really stupid," Lily apologized, "But what's the date?"
Dumbledore-who-was-not-really-Dumbledore looked surprised. He had been expecting something more shocking.
"I believe it's December 21st."
"December 21st!" Lily was shocked. Still, there was another nagging thought, but it sounded even stupider.
"Um........December 21st of what year?"
Dumbledore frowned again and the boy leaned his chin into his right palm, still looking at Lily with curiosity and interest.
"1854 my dear child; it is December 21st of 1854."
Lily's heart did the weird jumping thing again and her throat was choked up.
"There's just a small problem with that."
"What is that?"
"From where I'm from, it's supposed to be at Hogwarts, August 25th, 1972."
There was a moment's silence.
Finally, somebody spoke, but it wasn't Dumbledore, it was the boy:
"Are you telling us you are from a hundred and eighteen years in the future?"
"I was trying to do an Avelford Charm with my charms professor," Lily explained.
Dumbledore still looked confused, but the boy nodded in understanding.
"Ah. And you experienced the ripping effect?"
"It seems so." Lily was very impressed. In fact she was blown away.
"How did you know that?" she asked.
Dumbledore chuckled, "Albus is one of the brightest boys there are. Perhaps even the brightest. His knowledge of magic is most impressive and his teachers exclaim him to be destined a great wizard."
The boy didn't try to act modest, but Lily could tell he wasn't over pleased with Dumbledore bragging.
"In fact, I do recall my very own professor talking about that particular charm in my seventh year here," Dumbledore continued, "Very nasty piece of work if I may say. And I'm impressed you've recovered; the ripping effect is supposed to be quite daunting."
The boy—Albus—nodded his agreement.
"Well then," Dumbledore said briskly, "I don't really know what to do other than offer you lodging for however long you may be here."
"But........won't I be stuck here?"
The boy grinned, his eyes twinkling (again with the deja vu!).
"Ah, but the ripping effect; it doesn't keep you in one place and time for very long. Most often it's just about twenty-four hours—one day—but sometimes it can last up to a week and sometimes you'll be one place for only a second. Very unpredictable. Unless your professor—Flitwick was it?—can locate where you are in time and perform the counter charm, I'm afraid you're at the mercy of the charm's wishes." The boy smiled a sympathetic smile, "My condolences, but that's just how it is."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement, "I told you he was a bright boy. Now if you'll go with him........yes dear, down the steps—try to avoid hitting your head on that fixture; the ceiling's a bit low there—if you'll follow my boy Albus, he'll show you a room. Your house is Gryffindor I presume?"
"Yes," Lily confirmed.
"As I guessed," he smiled, his eyes flickering to her flaming, red hair, "Well then, I do hope I'll see you around. Farewell."
When the boy and Lily were outside of the gargoyle once more, Lily raised her eyebrows at the boy.
"You're his boy?"
The boy nodded and his curled lip deepened into a subtle smile:
"He's my grandfather."
Then it dawned on Lily. She knew why the boy was so familiar now!
"You're Albus Dumbledore!" she gasped.
A/N: yes, i know. a pathetic attempt at a cliffhanger, but hang in there. i promise lots of exciting new chapters........that is—(you know what's coming next don't you)—if you review! flames please! bad stuff about me and my writing. i'll accept good stuff too........that'll be good........::eyes dart around wildly:: okay sorry i'll stop now
December 21st, 1854 Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft
Lily awoke to a feeling of warmth and comfort. She ran her fingers over the sheets she was now lying in, and inhaled. It smelled like healing wing Madam Luan healed everyone in.
"You should rest up a bit dear," a woman's voice advised her. It was in a very strange Cockney accent.
"Where am I?" Lily whispered.
"Hogwarts. You're in the infirmary, and you've taken a knocking to in the head."
"Oh," Lily turned around, her face pressing into her pillow, "I'm glad Professor Flitwick got me out."
"Pardon me?" the voice was nearer now, and she could feel a breeze when the woman stepped up to the bed's side.
"The Pensieve. I'm glad I'm out."
"Hmm. You should rest up more."
"Right."
Lily fell asleep.
She woke up again, to find a boy looming over her.
"Madam Kingsley requests you come with me. There's just been a bloody Quidditch game, and that's in the literal sense," he explained.
"Oh." Lily did feel better. "Well, okay."
The boy gave her a queer look, but said nothing. Lily climbed out of her hospital bed, and indeed there were many, many students with bloodied faces, broken arms, legs, and other various joints. There was just one problem: she didn't recognize any of them.
"Hmm."
"We'll take you to the headmaster," the boy decided, "He'll know what to do with you."
Lilly frowned.
"What do you mean, 'He'll know what to do with you'?"
The boy gave her another strange look, but then shrugged.
"You're not from around here, and we don't know how you got here. You were found just outside of the Forbidden Forest by our gamekeeper unconscious. I'm assuming you're a witch."
Lily just gaped at the boy.
"Of course I'm a witch. I've been going here for nearly two years."
The boy stopped walking. Lilly suddenly became all too aware of her surroundings. The castle looked pretty much the same, but devoid of some more modern decorating and fashion that Lilly had grown accustomed to. Whether or not wizards and witches liked to admit it, Muggle culture did heavily influence their choice of hairstyle or pop culture, and what she was seeing was nowhere near the circa 1970's era she knew and loved at Hogwarts.
Girls were very few in number and often stayed closer together than normal. Their hair was very stiff and formal, and under the school robes were pinched waists and billowing skirts. The boys also had more severe haircuts, wore strange shoes and pants, and some of the older boys, the ones in their sixth and seventh years, had long unstylish sideburns and mustaches.
Sideburns and mustaches were very hip in 1972, but somehow........now it just seemed wrong on these people. The boy who was looking at her in interest was her own age, almost thirteen. His hair was auburn, a reddish- brown color, and he had clear blue eyes. His nose was long and straight, his hands were large for his size with very long fingers, and he had what seemed to be a permanent curl of his right lips, giving the impression of a very friendly and appreciative humor-wise smirk.
"I—uh—
Lilly didn't know what to say.
"The headmaster........" the boy prompted her.
"Well, um. It's just that........" Lily shut her mouth. She would figure out everything with the headmaster, but the previous day's experiences came to her: the torn Pensieve images, the failed charm, Professor Flitwick's scream, and now waking up in a Hogwarts where she recognized no one and everyone was dressed and acting like something out of a Jane Austen book (a Muggle author).
Come to think of it, the boy did look a little familiar, but it was a fleeting thought, just a hint of deja vu. They were now walking towards Dumbledore's office. Lily was relieved; if anyone could reassure and explain everything to her, it was Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster.
The stone gargoyle was formidable as always, dutifully guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"Grindenwald," the boy spoke to the gargoyle.
Lily was about to object, to tell the boy that 'Grindenwald' would not be a password Dumbledore would choose, but to her surprise, the gargoyle moved upwards, creating a staircase. Uneasy, Lily followed the boy up to Dumbledore's office.
Sitting in a chair was Dumbledore, but his back was faced towards them. Still, Lily could recognize those hands with the long fingers anytime.
"Dumbledore, sir," the boy bowed his head, "There's some kind of strangeness going on."
"Sit down Albus. Have the girl sit down too."
Lily felt like her heart had jumped out of her throat, did a little jig on the desk, and jumped right back down her throat and into her chest cavity. The voice was not Dumbledore's. It was totally different, and did he just call the boy Albus?
No biggie. Albus was a common name wasn't it? The boy tugged Lily's robes, motioning for her to sit down. She consented.
The man swiveled around in his chair, and the first thing that came to Lily's mind was that he strongly resembled the Dumbledore she knew. He was an old man, not nearly as old as Albus Dumbledore, his face was all wrong though, and his hair was more white than silvery, but the man and the boy, Albus, shared the same clear blue eyes and hands.
"What is your name?" the man asked Lily kindly but firmly.
"Lily Evans," she choked up.
"Is there something wrong?" the man—Dumbledore—asked.
"Ah, um. Everything."
Dumbledore frowned, but the boy merely looked on with interest.
"How is everything wrong?" the boy asked with genuine curiosity. Again, Lily had a fleeting feeling of deja vu, but this time it was accompanied with an image of an older Albus Dumbledore asking a dancing first year Lily who had a frog in her robes if there was anything wrong in a polite way.
"This might sound really stupid," Lily apologized, "But what's the date?"
Dumbledore-who-was-not-really-Dumbledore looked surprised. He had been expecting something more shocking.
"I believe it's December 21st."
"December 21st!" Lily was shocked. Still, there was another nagging thought, but it sounded even stupider.
"Um........December 21st of what year?"
Dumbledore frowned again and the boy leaned his chin into his right palm, still looking at Lily with curiosity and interest.
"1854 my dear child; it is December 21st of 1854."
Lily's heart did the weird jumping thing again and her throat was choked up.
"There's just a small problem with that."
"What is that?"
"From where I'm from, it's supposed to be at Hogwarts, August 25th, 1972."
There was a moment's silence.
Finally, somebody spoke, but it wasn't Dumbledore, it was the boy:
"Are you telling us you are from a hundred and eighteen years in the future?"
"I was trying to do an Avelford Charm with my charms professor," Lily explained.
Dumbledore still looked confused, but the boy nodded in understanding.
"Ah. And you experienced the ripping effect?"
"It seems so." Lily was very impressed. In fact she was blown away.
"How did you know that?" she asked.
Dumbledore chuckled, "Albus is one of the brightest boys there are. Perhaps even the brightest. His knowledge of magic is most impressive and his teachers exclaim him to be destined a great wizard."
The boy didn't try to act modest, but Lily could tell he wasn't over pleased with Dumbledore bragging.
"In fact, I do recall my very own professor talking about that particular charm in my seventh year here," Dumbledore continued, "Very nasty piece of work if I may say. And I'm impressed you've recovered; the ripping effect is supposed to be quite daunting."
The boy—Albus—nodded his agreement.
"Well then," Dumbledore said briskly, "I don't really know what to do other than offer you lodging for however long you may be here."
"But........won't I be stuck here?"
The boy grinned, his eyes twinkling (again with the deja vu!).
"Ah, but the ripping effect; it doesn't keep you in one place and time for very long. Most often it's just about twenty-four hours—one day—but sometimes it can last up to a week and sometimes you'll be one place for only a second. Very unpredictable. Unless your professor—Flitwick was it?—can locate where you are in time and perform the counter charm, I'm afraid you're at the mercy of the charm's wishes." The boy smiled a sympathetic smile, "My condolences, but that's just how it is."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement, "I told you he was a bright boy. Now if you'll go with him........yes dear, down the steps—try to avoid hitting your head on that fixture; the ceiling's a bit low there—if you'll follow my boy Albus, he'll show you a room. Your house is Gryffindor I presume?"
"Yes," Lily confirmed.
"As I guessed," he smiled, his eyes flickering to her flaming, red hair, "Well then, I do hope I'll see you around. Farewell."
When the boy and Lily were outside of the gargoyle once more, Lily raised her eyebrows at the boy.
"You're his boy?"
The boy nodded and his curled lip deepened into a subtle smile:
"He's my grandfather."
Then it dawned on Lily. She knew why the boy was so familiar now!
"You're Albus Dumbledore!" she gasped.
A/N: yes, i know. a pathetic attempt at a cliffhanger, but hang in there. i promise lots of exciting new chapters........that is—(you know what's coming next don't you)—if you review! flames please! bad stuff about me and my writing. i'll accept good stuff too........that'll be good........::eyes dart around wildly:: okay sorry i'll stop now
