Chapter 1

The manacles clunked to the table.

"I thought these would have a key?" the eerily familiar woman asked, pushing them slightly away from herself across the table.

Albus Dumbledore raised a curious eyebrow at the woman. She was correct in that the manacles that were used to secure prisoners to the table were charmed to only accept a correspondingly charmed key. He knew it wasn't widely known though which came from the fact these were not Magical Law Enforcement equipment.

"I find in my old age that I'm somewhat more impatient," he replied with a knowing smile. "It is much easier to just do as I please."

The woman snorted as she rubbed her wrists.

"Breaking the charm was easier than spending twenty seconds just asking for the key?"

Dumbledore's smile grew a fraction.

"As I said, I am somewhat impatient."

She chuckled, looking slightly like an inpatient at a muggle psychiatric hospital. The surroundings of white tiles a century out of date and the cheap white robes the Unspeakables had given her did not help. They certainly were not as flattering as his choice today of lavish purple robes.

"That explains so much."

She seemed far less high-strung than Mister Potter to him: someone who was comfortable and relaxed despite knowing how poorly her legal situation currently fared – someone who functioned well in high stress and uncertainty. Obviously, she was older than Mister Potter as well, and female Dumbledore added almost as an afterthought. She looked like a female version of James Potter, but she had Lily Potter's eyes.

He cleared his throat, about to explain his presence here when she cut in.

"Do locked doors even phase you?" she asked.

Dumbledore's lips quirked.

"Less than they should," he answered carefully. "It is a bad habit of mine."

The woman snorted again.

"I bet."

Suddenly the woman looked gleeful and curious at the same time.

"Have you ever barged into a room and then had to put the 'I don't swing that way' card with the poor woman inside?"

Her tone didn't betray any speculation on her part. Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"I assure you; I did not want to see what I saw any more than she wanted to see me."

The woman openly laughed this time.

"I do hope I too can reach an age where I give as little a damn as you do, Headmaster."

She was also less introverted to him – or was this a learned skill? The years between her and Mr Potter made it hard to tell how much was learned and how much was maturity.

"Oh? Have you been practicing?"

"I am trying," she replied, lounging in her seat an exaggerated manner.

Likely learned then, or a bit of both.

"Back to what I had planned to discuss before our derailment," he said, redirecting the conversation. "I believe you would wish to know that the Department of Mysteries has concluded their investigation – favourably to you that is."

She looked at him with faint surprise.

"I would hope. I'm still not sure what exactly I was supposed to have done. I do know they think I did something to some Unspeakables and broke into their clubhouse…" the woman trailed off, looking distant. Her eyes turned to him, a small frown on her face. "And… I know this isn't right. This…" she waved her hand looking for the word. "This world isn't right."

Dumbledore hummed.

"What gave that away?"

She gave him an incredulous look.

"You're alive for one."

He wasn't shocked by the idea of his death; he had lived a long time and had made peace with most of his mistakes that could be rectified in life. What was left would too soon be dealt with. He gave her an ambivalent smile.

"Everyone passes on eventually."

"Yeah, but they don't normally come back from the dead."

He chuckled.

"That is true," he agreed, inclining his head. "What year was it anyway?"

"How do you know it's time travel?"

Dumbledore's lips quirked again.

"Lily was certainly not pregnant when she was at Hogwarts, and she refused to even look at James Potter until her later years," he replied before a thought occurred to him. "Unless you've been taking some permanent aging potion?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Is there a young me running about? What's the date anyway?"

"Ah – and that is the fascinating aspect of this; there is no young you running about."

The woman winced, paling slightly.

"I… didn't replace them, did I?" she carefully asked, tilting her head.

The headmaster shook his head bemusedly.

"Nothing so unpleasant."

"So backwards and sideways then," she said quietly, a small amount of shock on her face. "I take it Voldemort succeeded then? Did he go after Agatha next?"

"Agatha?" Dumbledore asked. "I'm not sure who that is."

The woman looked bewildered at his answer.

"The Longbottom's – did Voldemort go after them next? Frank, Alice and Agatha?"

He looked at her curiously at her question and tried not to betray any surprise at learning a change in her world.

"I'm not aware of any Agatha Longbottom – at least not one that wasn't born before I was." She seemed uncomfortable at the idea of this Agatha not existing. "I believe you are quite a bit further from home than you thought, Miss Potter," he explained with a touch of sadness. "In July of 1980, Frank and Alice had a son: Neville Longbottom, and one day later – in a similar vein – James and Lily also had a son: Harry Potter."

Miss Potter stared back in astonishment.

"That's – uh…" She trailed off, looking slightly lost.

"To answer your second question, it is the 10th of August 1995."

Miss Potted nodded numbly back, her eyes not on him, or anything really. She swallowed.

"I'm twenty-three," she answered quietly. "It was November 2003. The third… I think. And I was born on the 31st of July 1980. They named me Holly Evans Potter."

Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"And like the Harry Potter of this world, Voldemort attacked your family on Halloween of 1981?" She nodded. "And days later, a party of Death Eaters, led by Bellatrix Lestrange attacked the Longbottom home hours after they came out of hiding?" She nodded again. Dumbledore tiredly sighed. "It is terrible that the barriers between universes do not avert such cruelties."

"Yes," Holly agreed distantly.

She stared at her left hand. Dumbledore could not help but notice that it was surprisingly scarred for someone of her age. She clenched it into a fist, her knuckles gong white for a moment before she relaxed.

"How did I get here and how do I get back?"

Dumbledore looked pained at her words.

"You were brought here by an illegally performed ritual." Dumbledore looked almost guilty before continuing, even though Holly was sure he wasn't involved in bringing her here. "While I am but a man, I do not know of any means to send you home."

"N-nothing?" Holly gasped out, her breath hitching. "How can I be brought here but not be sent back?"

"The ritual was…" he searched for the word "… esoteric. I was not even aware such a ritual existed until only a few days ago when the Department of Mysteries asked me to lend my experience on the more unknown corners of magic."

"So, there might be a way?"

Dumbledore inclined his head in acceptance, conceding that there might.

"The Department of Mysteries is very old and hordes much knowledge. There may be an answer to the problem hidden deep in their library, but I would stake a galleon on the Chudley Cannons winning a game before finding an answer inside of several years."

Holly blanched, clearly understanding the probability. She gave an annoyed sigh.

"Could you not demand they provide help?" she said irritably. "I woke up in the Department; it was one of their Unspeakables that did this, wasn't it? It's their responsibility and should have to help."

Dumbledore gave her a single, sad nod.

"It was one of their own, but I cannot force the Unspeakbles to act." She looked at him in unhidden disbelief. He contemplates her expression for a few moments before asking "Was I still Chief Warlock at this time in your world?"

Holly frowned.

"You were." She shifted uncomfortably. "You died in office."

He gave her a tense smile.

"I was sacked from the position almost two months ago, and even before then getting the Department of Mysteries to do anything was like herding grey-robed cats."

Holly deflated.

"And the Unspeakables? The ones who did this to me? All I remember is an explosion."

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable at the thought.

"I would consider their fates to be worse than death."

o0o0o

"… and when the other Unspeakables entered the room, they found you unconscious and two of their co-workers at wand point. One of them claimed to have no memory of the other while the other claimed they were best friends. The Department won't tell me their names, so I will just call them A and B respectively."

Holly nodded, still not really wrapping her head around the concept of being in another world.

"Believing he knew all of their co-workers by sight and seeing an unconscious woman on the ground next to a ritual circle, Unspeakable A assumed that B was doing something criminal. B on the other hand did recall A was his best friend, but remembering what the ritual did, he could not recall what would have motivated him to perform Skuld's Spite. In his confusion he presumed that A was a polyjuiced imposter and that he had broken free from the imposter's imperius curse when the ritual completed."

Holly nodded along grimly.

"And their co-workers knew they were best friends and knew both of them worked there, so as the odd one out I was the cause of their co-workers suddenly losing large chunks of their lives," Holly added.

"Quite."

Holly wasn't sure she could come up with a worse punishment than that. It wasn't much different from losing your mind… and it was in a way.

"Or course, that is what the Department investigation deduced. They could be wrong about some aspects of the tale – or all of it."

It seemed to make too much sense. Mind you, if she hadn't been living it, she might have doubted the dimension travel, but the rest made too much sense.

"A cruel irony that one lost his dearly held memories of his parents and sister to motivated him to take action, and the other lost the memories of his dear friend he wished to help."

Holly shuddered at the thought. She had no idea what memory she would hate to lose the most, but she knew it would be terrible none-the-less. She sighed.

"You don't think it's enough? Or maybe you feel the punishment is too much?"

Holly shook her head. She could easily have killed them for what they had done if she was in the heat of the moment, but having been described the trauma conga line leading to her coming here and the ensuing fallout, she had trouble faulting the men. It didn't make it right or acceptable, and she would still have tried to get revenge for it, but she understood the desperation, the anger. Except fate had handed them a punishment much worse than she could have devised or even conceived of. Too much punishment, despite dragging her out of the secure arms of her friends and dumping her here.

"It's enough," she carefully replied.

Dumbledore grimly nodded.

"Now you are up to speed, I would like to make you an offer. You do not have to accept and I would offer you a place to stay regardless of your decision." He paused and Holly nodded to indicate she would hear it. "As I suspect you know, Voldemort recently returned –"

"Recently?" Holly asked in confusion.

Dumbledore's brow creased.

"Yes, in June."

"Of this year?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Yes."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing her glasses up as she rubbed her eyes.

"You guys got lucky. He returned when I was in second year."

"But he was defeated?" Holly nodded. "For good?"

"We're pretty sure we got all the horcruxes."

Dumbledore looked pained at the mention of the devices.

"I had hoped that it was not the case, but I have found evidence that Tom has delved deeply into that insanity.

"And you hope that some things from my world might be the same."

"Yes." He inclined his head.

"Information is the least I can do – though if your Voldemort only came back a few months ago I'm not sure how similar things really are." Holly paused, a thought crossing her mind. "By the way, what happened to Sirius Black here?"

"He's a wanted fugitive," Dumbledore answered nonchalantly.

Holly whistled.

"Not bad. I assume he escaped Azkaban then?"

The headmaster nodded.

"He has been a free man for two years now."

She chuckled.

"Go Sirius."

Dumbledore glanced at the door.

"Why don't we take this somewhere else?"

o0o0o

According to Dumbledore, there weren't any special laws or regulations for dimension travellers. There were laws about time travellers capable of erasing themselves, but everything about Holly Potter satisfied the Unspeakables that she was no a simple time traveller and her actions here would not be detrimental to existence.

"We should be quite glad that Minster Fudge's recent heavy-handed approach has further soured the Unspeakables to him," Dumbledore explained as they were permitted to leave.

They had returned her wand and her clothes, but no cloak. It was possible it didn't make the trip with her, or it got lost in the Department somewhere, or someone pinched it, or – much more terribly – someone had realised what it was.

"This is everything?" she asked, trying not to betray the value of her missing item.

"It is."

"I thought I had been carrying more."

The Unspeakable paused for a moment.

"Wait here, I will go check," he said gruffly before turning and disappearing through the door.

Though small, she had questions as to why the Department of Mysteries had a detention facility. It certainly made them seem extrajudicial in nature. She was familiar with extrajudicial activities; you didn't go through a brutal civil war without being familiar, but that was wartime expediency and not a method for a well-established government organisation with little oversight.

Once the Unspeakable was out of sight, the Headmaster gave her a glance. She wasn't keen explain too much in case the Unspeakables were listening – in fact, she had probably said slightly too much in the interview room and that was what likely prompted Dumbledore to suggest they go someplace elsewhere.

"I seem to have lost my cloak," she said as levelly as possible. "I was rather fond of it."

Dumbledore didn't betray anything at the mention.

"That is a nuisance, isn't it?"

Eventually the question bugged her enough.

"Why have they got cells down here?'

Dumbledore's lips thinned.

"I have asked that myself on more than one occasion. I suspect that once a time the Department did unlawful things in the quest for knowledge," he explained looking sickened. "When I asked, I was told that the Department very occasionally needs the means to hold dangerous people, because there are people out there that meet the Department's mandate. It would be unusual as most things their mandate covers are objects and sometimes experimentally bred animals. People are normally a matter for the aurors."

"People like me?"

Dumbledore gave her an unconcerned glance.

"You are not a danger to existence or the country, nor are you prescribed dark magic – despite your unique means of getting here. That puts you outside of their mandate."

Holly slowly nodded, taking the answer in.

About five minutes later the Unspeakable returned with something silver in hand.

"The Department apologises for the error in handing your property over to Research." He handed the deluminator to Holly who held it up, quickly inspecting its polished surface. "The employees who made the mistake have been suitably reprimanded."

Eying the device, Dumbledore removed his own from his robe's inner pocket and held it next to Holly's, inspecting it for differences. Hers looked the same, and even had the same dent from where he had accidentally dropped more than a decade ago after a few too many drinks in that wonderful little club in Islington. Holly too seemed to find the comparison curious as the Unspeakable failed to hide his own desire for the device.

"Lets hope it still works," Holly said before there was a click and the room's four light sources were sucked up, plunging them into darkness.

"Please return our lights."

Holly huffed a laugh before there was another click and the lights were returned to their proper locations on the walls. The Unspeakable looked sour.

"I found this is pretty handy in a fight," she said casually to the Headmaster. "Not as good as the instant darkness powder, but all the lights suddenly vanishing in the room gives you a few seconds edge."

He nodded approvingly; it wasn't a use for the deluminator he had considered before, but a fascinating idea none-the-less.

"Is there anything else?" Holly asked.

The Unspeakable tilted his head.

"The Department would appreciate it if you could answer some questions in the near future."

Holly glanced at the Headmaster who gave her a neutral shrug back. She was about to accept when another thought occurred.

"That will depend on what the Department can do for me," she answered with a slightly nasty smile. "Is that all?"

"No," he ground out. "This way."

The Unspeakable escorted them down several corridors before they reached a round room with many doors. The walls and the doors began to rotate.

"Exit!" the Unspeakable called, causing the doors and walls to halt almost immediately. There was a click and one of the doors popped open enough for the Unspeakable to open it.

Holly glanced at the Headmaster but he seemed unperturbed by the Unspeakable's actions, so she followed him as the Unspeakable led them through the (presumably) exit door.

"Have a good day, Albus," said the Unspeakable as he turned around. He paused half-way though. "Please do not forget what the Director asked."

"Thank you," Dumbledore replied with a nod. "I won't." As the Unspeakable left and the door closed behind him, Dumbledore pulled out the Elder Wand and cast something down the corridor of glossy black stone in the other direction. "There! – and just a moment."

His white hair began to turn ginger red as he began casting on himself. Soon after some of the more visible signs of aging faded from his face and it took on a more rounded appearance. While not on the same scale as someone like Dudley, it was a far cry from the usual lanky image she associated with the Headmaster. Finally, he cast another charm on his robes, changing them from purple to brown.

Holly couldn't help but notice that Dumbledore looked at the new colour with some disgust.

"Do I need to do anything?" she asked.

Dumbledore's head turned, looking her over.

"Hmm – while at a distance someone might mistake you for Mister Potter, I don't believe anyone would at second glance." He glanced at her scar. "That would be unusual though," he continued before flicking his wand at her. "That will do for now."

While she assumed he had cast some sort of glamour on her, she was curious how it looked, so she quickly conjured a small mirror. The glamour looked seamless and was far better than the glamours she watched Lavender and Parvati try to practice over many years. Poking the skin though gave it away though as the glamour did not distort in quite the right way, but it would do for now.

"I am sure you are wondering why I need the disguise, yes?" Dumbledore asked as they made their way out of the Department of Mysteries' corridor and into the old courtrooms' corridor.

"A bit," she admitted.

"I have often been asked to advise many people and organisations – the Department of Mysteries is no exception." He frowned slightly as they approached the lifts. "Though I've never been able to sate my appetite for knowledge with them." He shook his head before continuing. "The Unspeakables still want my advice, but while they aren't fond of – what did Croaker call it? Ah, yes: that man looking for the illicit fudge stash behind the filing cabinets."

It didn't seem like a very good joke to Holly, but Dumbledore's lips quirking at it was funny in its own way. She held back a small laugh as the golden lift grill closed behind them.

"If I am seen going in and out of the Department, Cornelius will exert considerably more pressure on them."

"Picking the right hill to die on?" Holly asked.

"I would have said pick your battles."

Holly shrugged ambivalently.

"How did that happen, anyway?" she asked before adding. "Losing Chief Warlock that is."

"I lost my position as Supreme Mugwump as well, and my membership in the Confederation," he said conversationally. He did not seem to Holly to be perturbed by it "It is because Cornelius believes that my announcement that Voldemort has returned is some sort of ploy or a coup d'état."

A mistimed breath, she coughed before glancing disbelievingly at him.

"Really?" she asked with bewilderment. "I don't know about here, but my Dumbledore could have asked to be Minister of Magic and just gotten it. He wouldn't have needed some sort of coup."

Dumbledore hummed in agreement.

"While I do not wish to sound boastful, a short time ago I could have done the same thing. You said Voldemort returned in your second year?" She nodded. "With everything else the same, I can see why –"

Dumbledore paused as the lift reached Level 3, revealing a congregation of witches and wizards looking to board. It stopped the next level up to disgorge a few, but more got on than got off.

"Merlin, I'm hungry," she muttered as a pair of witches asked between them where they would go for lunch. "Why don't we grab a bite, Al?" she asked, glancing at Dumbledore.