London, 1997

Victoria Potter apparated for the first time in forty-six years.

She stumbled slightly upon landing in the empty alley next to the Leaky Cauldron. That was hardly surprising though; her legs still felt stiff after half a century in a coffin.

It was a grey, miserable day. Clouds hung low over the London skyline and heavy droplets of rain bounced off the mucky pavement. A few muggles hurried along the street, huddled under umbrellas. Victoria found herself staring at their clothes, which had changed a lot in the time she'd been asleep. Even the peculiar things they called cars were different.

Victoria glanced down at the gold ring on her finger. That hadn't changed at least. She ran her thumb over the engraved lion head, the mark of Godric Gryffindor. Would Tom still be wearing its pair? If so, he would know she was awake. At least, that's what they'd been promised all those years ago.

Before Victoria had gone to sleep, they'd even arranged a place to meet. They would reunite in the churchyard of Godric's Hollow. As long as everything had gone to plan, Tom would be there. He would be waiting for her. But had everything gone to plan? Victoria wasn't so sure.

'He Who Must Not Be Named.' She felt the shape of the words on her tongue. They were like a stranger. Would Tom be a stranger too? It had been almost half a century. Yet she hadn't aged a day and he wasn't supposed to have either.

Victoria watched a muggle couple sharing the same umbrella. They were laughing despite the rain as they tried to hail a taxi.

Making up her mind, Victoria ducked into the Leaky Cauldron. She had to know how things stood and there was no better place for that than Diagon Alley.

Victoria had visited this pub on many occasions. It had always been packed with life. Gaggles of old witches visiting London to shop, weary travelers haggling with the landlord over the cost of a room, and foreign wizards on business. Today, it was empty save for three people.

Tom the landlord stood behind the bar, toothless and hunched over. The last time Victoria had seen him, he'd been a jovial fellow, quick with a joke. Today, he looked miserable and kept glancing over at the two men sitting by the fire.

They were an unsavoury-looking pair. Both had unkempt, tangled hair and their clothes and fingernails were filthy. One of the men looked up when she entered. He elbowed his friend and they both leered over at her. Victoria ignored them; she didn't need to use her mind-reading powers to know what they were thinking. If they came nearer, she'd deal with them as easily as she had the Carrows.

'Afternoon, miss,' muttered Tom the landlord. 'Drink?' He beckoned her forward.

Victoria moved over to the bar. 'No, thank you. I'm just passing through.'

There was no recognition in the old man's eyes. No doubt he'd met thousands of patrons over the years. There was no reason he'd remember a girl from fifty years ago.

Tom made a show of picking up a glass and wiping it with a cloth. He leaned towards her and lowered his voice to a whisper. 'I wouldn't be wandering around here alone, miss. There are all sorts of villains about these days.' His eyes flashed in the direction of the two men by the fire.

'I was just hoping to visit the Alley,' said Victoria. 'There are a few essentials to buy and I must visit Gringotts.'

Tom shook his head. 'You won't find much open. Gringotts is still running, even Death Eaters need gold. Apart from that it's all criminals selling their wares.'

'How long has it been like this?'

Tom frowned as though she was being deliberately slow. 'Since Thicknesse took over, of course.'

'Thicknesse?'

'Pius Thicknesse, the Minister for Magic. Where have you been?

'I've been away', said Victoria vaguely. 'It's been a long time since I've been in London.'

Tom sighed. 'Well, if I were you, I'd go back to wherever it is you've come from. Wizarding London is finished. Death Eaters and murderers on every corner, the bloody Ministry supporting the attacks…'

He broke off suddenly and looked horrified. Victoria probed and felt his mind open up to her. Keep quiet, you old fool… she could be one of them…

'I don't know if I'm one of them,' murmured Victoria.

She turned on her heel and headed out the back of the pub. She tapped her wand on the wall in a familiar pattern and watched as the bricks jumped aside to allow her entry.

The sight that greeted her almost made Victoria gasp. The landlord had been right, Diagon Alley was a shell of the place she had once known. Almost all the shops were deserted. Their colourful displays replaced by boarded up doors and smashed windows. Olivanders was shut up, as was Flourish and Blotts. Victoria paused outside the bookshop, remembering the pleasure of browsing its shelves.

At the top of the street, Gringotts appeared to be open. Its lights were on at least. Apart from that, the only commerce came from makeshift stalls dotted along the road. Victoria glanced at their contents as she walked past. One stall held an array of dangerous potions, another was laden with obviously stolen goods. Victoria watched as the latter's squat, grubby owner argued with a toad-faced witch.

'Please, miss, help me,' pleaded a quiet voice. 'I didn't steal magic, I promise.'

Victoria looked down to see a skinny man covered in rags grabbing at her feet. Before Victoria could do or say much more, the toad-face woman hurried over, flanked by two men who looked like Ministry officials.

'Arrest this Wandless scum,' instructed the woman in a simpering voice. 'We cannot have them polluting Diagon Alley like this.'

The two Ministry men seized the vagrant and hauled him to his feet.

'Not Azkaban, please. I'm a wizard, I can prove it. No, please…'

Victoria looked away and continued her walk up the hill. She placed her hand inside her cloak and gripped her wand. It wouldn't take much to do something. She was a match for anyone in the Alley. There was only one problem- Victoria was unsure whose side she was supposed to be on. Should she have rescued that Wandless man, or should she have helped the Ministry officials drag him away?

When she finally reached Gringotts, Victoria leaned against the bank's marble wall and caught her breath. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Tom wasn't supposed to have built this world. They'd spoken of greatness, of magic never before seen. There'd been no mention of ruin and thieves and beggars thrown in Azkaban.

She thought of Tom the last time she'd seen him. He'd been twenty-five, tall, dark, impossibly handsome. He'd smiled her smile, the one no one else saw. She'd touched his cool, pale skin and felt his lips against hers. It wasn't the end, they'd both agreed. It was their beginning.

Just go to Godric's Hollow, a voice told her. Go and find him. Be together.

Lost in her memories, Victoria might have done just that, had something not suddenly caught her eye. On the opposite wall was a large poster, covering most of the brickwork.

Undesirable number one. Reward: ten thousand gallons.

Victoria stared at the figure on the poster. Neville and Seamus' words came back to her. Harry Potter, they'd said. The Boy Who Lived.

Her great nephew looked like the rest of the men in the Potter family- skinny and pale with messy dark hair. But most of all Harry looked like Monty, his grandfather and Victoria's younger brother. Monty would be almost seventy now, perhaps he was still alive. But even as she dared hope, Victoria knew it was all in vain. Monty would not have stood by whilst his son was murdered and his grandson had a bounty on his head. If all that had happened, it could only mean Monty was dead.

James, that was what Monty had named his son, after their brother. Victoria closed her eyes and allowed herself to remember her other brother. The popular Quidditch hero who had been so full of life. Victoria remembered the way the light had left his eyes, the way he had fallen to the ground and the coldness of his skin. Monty had kept his memory alive in his son's name. No doubt Harry's father, James, had grown up with stories about the bravery of his namesake uncle. Victoria wondered if Monty had told his son any stories of her. She doubted it.

Victoria looked down at Gryffindor's ring on her finger. All she had to do was go to Godric's Hollow and she'd see Tom again. It was that simple, it was what they'd planned all those years ago. She glanced back up at the poster and felt Harry's eyes on her.

She should have known it would never be that simple.

...

Okay, so a couple of things. Firstly, I know this is the first time I've updated in so long. I honestly have no justification for this; I simply fell out of the habit of writing fanfiction and let it slip. But I've found myself drawn back to it and really want to give this story another go.

Secondly, this chapter was pretty short. That's probably going to be the pattern of the 1997 chapters, at least for the time being. The 1943 chapters will be the main focus, with the 'present day' ones keeping it tied to events of the Deathly Hallows.

Thanks so much for reading this :)