Author's note: I'm a bit surprised no one offered guesses about where the Sues and Gary came from. Oh well, I guess the only mystery now is which one is Kalia being hosted by. A hint. She's inside the last person Harry would suspect of being a Sue.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, coming to her feet. "But that's impossible! Why would I -- you -- oh, this is giving me a headache."

"We are so different now, Hermione. Think of me as a person entirely different than you. But once, we were the same. I remember my second year at Hogwarts, the first night back; wondering where Ron and Harry were, only to find out that they had stolen his dad's car and flown to Hogwarts before crashing it into the Willow. You remember being frantic too, Hermione. Not that you would let anyone know. Would you me to tell you who you were more worried about?"

"No!" Hermione shouted. "I mean, fine, I believe you. You're me."

"What happened?" Harry asked. "Where did Gary and those things come from? I mean, I know they're from the future, but who made them?"

"I did, Harry. I created them."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "But what could have possessed you to create such things?"

"Harry did."

"Me?"

Baron nodded. "In the history I remember, Harry, you died."

"I did?" Harry exclaimed and stared at the desk. "I guess -- I mean, what happened to me?"

Baron sighed. "Harry, before I tell you . . . you have to know. It's been more then a hundred years for me since I saw you last. I watched you die, Harry. Voldemort cut you down right in front of me. If it hadn't been for Neville, I'd be dead too." She got up and walked to the fireplace. "Do you remember the procephy? The one Trelawny made before you were born?"

Harry nodded. The words were burned into his brain. "Do you mean --"

"Yes, Harry. My world. As I said, the future I come from is what happened when Voldemort killed you. It wasn't even a duel. He cut you down right there in King's Cross as you emerged from the barrier. We had just finished our seventh year."

--------

"Avada Kedavra!" There was a flash of green light and Hermione reeled back into Ron as Harry's body slumped lifelessly to the ground. She looked up and stared as Voldemort, surrounded by his Death Eaters stood in the middle of the station. Everywhere was death. Magical and Muggle alike, lying lifeless on the station floor.

Beside her, Ginny screamed and charged, wand out.

One of the black robed figures lazily aimed its wand and Lucias Malfoy's voice spoke the words that ended her life.

"Ginny!" Ron screamed, even as hands grasped their shirt collars and yanked them back through the barrier, releasing them to land on the floor of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Looking up, she saw Neville's face, even as a wizard in the uniform of the Hogwarts Express sealed the barrier.

--------

"Mrs. Weasley died soon after that," Baron said, turning away from the fire. "Tried to take matters into her own hands, and paid for it. At least she took Lucias Malfoy with her. Mr. Weasley managed to hold things together, but it wasn't easy. Everything had depended on Harry. He was our one shot. Our only shot."

Harry looked up as Ron reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder. Hermione got up and also came around to his chair, resting her hand on his other shoulder. "What happened after that?" he said.

"With Harry out of the way, Voldemort set out to finish what he started. Within months, he controlled most of Europe. Western Asia and North Africa. A lot of people died in those months. Most of them from Hogwarts. Then with his power base established, Voldemort hit England, striking hard and fast. It was a Blitzkrieg."

"He conquered England?" Ron asked. "The whole bloody nation?"

"It took him a month or two, but yes. He did. But by then, the witches and wizards of Ireland and Scotland were in place and kept him bogged down for five years as he struggled north." Baron's lips twitched in a smile. "He eventually made it to Hogwarts, but it cost him dearly. By then, I was in America. Dumbledore had made arrangements with a place in Nebraska, and I was sent there. My job was to find a way to combine Muggle science and Magic."

"You were making weapons?" Hermione gasped. "Weapons! I abhor weapons!"

"And I don't?" Baron snapped. "I had no choice. Harry was dead. Dead, Hermione. Not even a ghost I could talk to. But Voldemort was still out there, running roughshod over the rest of the world. What choice did I have?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say something in reply, then sighed and closed her mouth again.

"I spent the next fifteen years in Nebraska, Harry. Very long, very lonely years. The only person I had any regular contact with was a Muggle named Ratliff, whom I shared a lab with."

"What about me?" Ron demanded. "Where was I?"

"You . . ." A single tear appeared on Baron's cheek and she wiped it away. "My Ron was off fighting the war. I only saw him once, very briefly before he was gone."

Ron swallowed noisily. "Oh."

"In any case, we finally created the Sporks. Special Operations and ReConnoissance. By that time, the Magical world and the Muggle world had combined their efforts. America, ever obsessed with its own security, had renamed itself as the --"

"The United Secure States of America," Harry said, and bowed his head in thought. "This was about the year . . ."

"Twenty twenty," Hermione said. "Roughly. Probably closer to twenty eighteen. I imagine that she stopped caring about the years at some point."

Baron nodded and finally sat back down. "Ratliff then created the Sues, using my experiments for the Sporks as a basis. The difference was that the Sporking process was used on human beings. Ratliff had created artificial life. I should have stopped him, but by then, I just didn't care anymore." She removed a handkerchief from her robe and dabbed at her eyes.

Dumbledore poured her a cup of tea. "Here, Nessia," he said quietly. "Some tea will help, I think." He looked at the students. "And all of you as well," he said. "Even you, Helena."

Helena blinked in surprise. She was sitting on an old stool by one of the cabinets. "Me?" She asked. Baron made a noise of disapproval in her throat, but otherwise said nothing.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You must have some tea." He smiled at her. "It's very refreshing. I insist you have some." Helena got up and hesitantly accepted the cup of tea before returning to her stool.

Nessia sipped her tea and stared at the fire for a moment. "The creation of the Sporks couldn't have come at a better time," she said, resuming her story when everyone had retaken their seats. "The ranks of the Aurors were depleted and it soon became clear that the Sporks' armor also protected them from most spells. They replaced the Aurors. Sues did the spying, the Sporks did the fighting. Voldemort was finally stopped in twenty twenty-five, but it wasn't until twenty-fifty that the last of his Dark Empire was beaten."

"Just . . . how was Voldemort stopped?" Harry asked. "I thought I was the only one who could do that."

"He wasn't beaten, Harry," Baron said. "The Sporks hounded him, kept forcing him to fall back until he reached Greece. Eventually, they cornered him at the edge of Tarturus, the pit where Zeus imprisoned the Titans. Several of the Sporks rushed him and they all fell in. As far as I know, Voldemort is still alive down there. I suppose the Titans might find a way to kill him, eventually." Her smile was chill. "It might take them a few centuries, but it'll give them something to do."

"Sounds like he was beaten to me," Helena muttered.

"By that point," Baron said, ignoring Helena, "the planet was a wreck. Fifty years of war takes its toll and rebuilding was at the forefront of everyone's mind. The Sporks and the Sues fell under the control of the D.S.A, who would amuse itself by periodically "eradicating nests of Dark Wizards" on the basis that another Voldemort could never be allowed to happen. The Dark Arts were forbidden on pain of death. Then, in twenty seventy-five, the Sues went mad and slaughtered the Sporks, the D.S.A. high command, and the U.S.S.A's government. Then they raided the Department of Mysteries in what was left of London and vanished. I was on a research trip in Canada or they would have gotten me as well. By the time I heard what had happened, remnants of the D.S.A. command structure had seized control. I decided to stay away. If I went back, I knew I would be forced into creating new weapons and more powerful creatures to replace the Sporks. So I hid myself in the distant north and spenty the next qaurter of a century in seclusion, watching from afar as the D.S.A. militarized the populace."

"That's why Gary was standing that way," Hermione exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "Remember when we went shopping in Flourish and Blotts? Remember how he was standing?"

"Yeah," Ron said.

"Right," Harry said. "And then you said that he must have spent time in the military. A lot of time, if he was standing like that without realizing it."

"I'm afraid it's worse then that," Baron said. "During the last years of the war, in order to beef up its forces, the D.S.A. was secretly matching people genetically for the best results and using Potions and other methods to make them breed. The results were then raised by the Army as orphans. After the Sues struck, they started doing it openly."

"That's awful!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron stared at Gary, horrified. "You have no family?" To Ron, who had such a large family, such thing must have seemed too terrible to contemplate.

Gary just shrugged. "We're told that the D.S.A. was our family." He smiled sardonically. "The D.S.A. is mother and father, and we are but its children. Ever loyal to the Cause." Something about the way he said those words made Harry shudder.

"Spoken like a true Firehawk," Helena said from her stool. She looked scathingly at Gary. "Blind loyalty was always their best trait."

"Firehawk?" Harry asked.

"The D.S.A.'s most elite soldiers," Baron replied. "Assassins and saboteurs, for the most part, in addition to being shock troops. They're the only reason the Sues didn't do more damage then they did before they left." She set aside her teacup. "And they're why the D.S.A. managed to seize control of most of the world. Gary was born in twenty eighty-five using stored genetic material. By then, the D.S.A.'s training methods all but obliterate individuality for the express purpose of allowing the troops the ability to don and shed identities as needed."

"But . . ." Ron trailed off and looked at Gary. "He's . . . that's fake?"

Baron nodded. "Gary and his sqaud were away from their base when they were attacked by . . . people with a bone to pick with the D.S.A. The village I was living in was on the edge of the D.S.A.'s northernmost border and it was the hub for many fiercely independant communities. Gary was the only survivor of the attack and badly wounded. Over the years, I'd . . . tinkered, you might say, with the Spork process. Improved it, made it better. I administered it to Gary in the hopes that the Spork's ability to heal quickly could save his life."

"Yeah," Gary said acidly. "Thanks." He held up his hand and Hermione gasped as his fingertips peeled back like a bannanna and the claws of bone emerged.

Baron ignored him. "While he was recovering, I learned that the effects of the Second War were even worse then the D.S.A. ever was. The planet was dying. Fifty years of unending magical war had wrecked havoc with the planetary ecosystem. Within a few short years, we'd all suffocate to death. That's when a plan came to me and I began to construct a gate."

"To escape to your past?" Ron asked.

Baron shook her head. "Think about what I've told you, Ron. Think about it all. You can figure out."

Ron's brow furrowed in thought and his eyes narrowed in concentration. Thin beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

"She wanted me to avert the Second War," Gary said when it became obvious that Ron was about burst a blood vessel. "And maybe even the first. All I had to was kill Tom Riddle before he ever became Voldemort."

"But the Gate was imprecise," Baron said. "About all I could do was target the twentith century and hope that enough power was used that he would land in the forties, when Riddle was still a student and vunerable."

"But you didn't use enough power," Hermione said. "He landed in ninety-six and had to adapt."

Baron nodded. "I crafted for him a personality which I felt would let him get on with most people he'd meet and sent him through with his instructions. If he managed to kill Riddle, the Wars shouldn't happen. He even had a detailed historical record of where the Chamber of Secrets was, key events in the history of the school and instructions to get in touch with Dumbledore upon arrival. After he was gone, I decided to go as well. I was sure that I wouldn't survive the trip, but I felt that it would be a better way to go then suffocating."

"Which brings us to Mr. Stuart," Dumbledore said. "How did you come to join the exchange program and never came to see me?"

"I did," Gary said quietly. "Come to see you, I mean. But they were already here."

"Crystal," Helena said, standing up. "You killed Crystal."

"Was that her name?" Gary asked.

"Crystal?" Dumbledore asked. Gary's face took on an odd expression and Dumbledore leaned forward. "You claim that you came to see me, Mr. Stuart, yet I cannot recall speaking with you. Why is that?"

Helena stepped forward. "If I may, Sir?" She pressed her fingers to Dumbledore's head. "A memory charm," she said after a moment. "A memory charm was placed on you . . . but I can't tell by who. There's a gap in your memory immediately after it, as though you were unconscious."

"I suspect the reason for that lies behind the block. Can you remove it?" Helena nodded. "Then please do." Helena shifted her fingers and Dumbledore let out a groan. "I see . . ." the old man said softly. "I taught her too well, it seems." Slowly, he stood up and walked to the fireplace and tossed some powder into it. "Minerva, would you come to my office, please?"

"Professor McGonagall put a Memory Charm on you?" Hermione said. "But why? That's illegal in all the world. What if--"

"Patience, Miss Granger. I expect she had her reasons and we shall hear them before making conclusions . . . or accusations."

Hermione's face flushed.

A few minutes later, McGonagall entered, dressed in her usual robes. Only the dark circles under her eyes hinted that she'd been woken up out of a sound sleep. She took the room in and then straightened. "You know," she said to Dumbledore. The old man nodded. "Then I will of course, tender my resignation immediatly and turn myself in to the Aurors."

"I will not accept your resignation, Minerva, nor will I allow you to do something so foolish. But I would like to know why."

"Crystal made you happy," McGonagall said softly. "She was a fake, I know, but you were so pleased to have a daughter. I couldn't bear the thought of what would happen if you learned the truth. So I used a memory charm and ordered the House Elves and the Portraits to silence."

"Is this true?" Dumbledore said.

"She threatened to put us on the staircase to the Slytherin Dungeon if we spoke of it!" one of the Portraits exclaimed. "In a cheap frame, no less!"

"Expel her, Sir," roared another, shaking a fist. "Let the Dementors have her."

Dumbledore steepled his long fingers and gazed solemnly at McGonagall. "No," he said at last. "I cannot expel someone for acting on their consience in an effort to spare someone else's pain."

"Thank you, Albus," McGonagall said quietly.

"However," Dumbledore said in a voice like steel. "I must remind you, Minerva, that I still have a few good shocks left and when it comes to something that threatens this school, I must know about it, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Headmaster," McGonagall said in that same quiet voice.

"Then the matter is settled." Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured another chair. "Would you like some tea, Minerva?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Hold on," Hermione said. "You said you sent Gary to the fifties to kill Tom Riddle before he became Voldemort."

"Hermione!" Ron hissed.

"Yes, that's right," Baron said.

"And that was his mission, find and kill Tom Riddle."

"Yes."

"Then how did he know Crystal was a Sue?"

"I . . . " Baron started and then blinked. "Gary?"

"I . . ." Now it was Gary's turn to blink. "I don't know." He frowned. "Come to think of it, I don't even remember being told I was supposed to kill Riddle." He looked at Baron. "You gave me a complete briefing on the Sues, Harry, and everything else."

"How puzzling," Dumbledore said. "But perhaps we can put this aside for the moment." He looked at Gary. "Why are the Sues still alive and terrorizing my school?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Helena said, just loud enough to be heard.

"Why did they come back in the first place?" Gary responded.

"Professor Dumbledore asked first!" Helena snapped and then blushed. Harry noticed Dumbledore smile as Baron and McGonagall exchanged questioning looks.

"Oh bother this!" Hermione exclaimed, hopping off the chair arm. "Eeny meeny miny mo!" Her wand was aimed at Helena. "You first," she snapped.

Helena sighed. "After the awakening, we raided the historical archives at New D.C. Marissa wanted to know more then just what the D.S.A. put in our memories."

"Who's Marissa?" Harry asked.

"Marissa was the first of us. Ratliff's creation. We're all just pale imitations of her," Helena replied. "While observing the Archives, Marissa developed a fixation on Harry and decided that he had to be hers."

Harry thought of what he had seen Aroha become and swallowed hard as he thought of being the lover of something like that.

"We were sent back in time. The idea was to seperate Harry from his friends and peers. Crystal was to keep Dumbledore busy, some of us would concentrate on Snape, Amanda and I were to see to it that Harry became isolated from Ron and Hermione. Me as his sister, her as his girlfriend. In the end, it was I who would face Voldemort. I know every spell ever made. Every charm, curse, jinx and hex, including some that were invented for the war. All I had to do was get close enough to use this." She removed a box from her robes. "Open," she said and the lid lifted. Inside was a gem. It was a pale gray and almost seemed to pulse with evil. "Crystalized Dementor blood. It sucks out the soul upon contact with the skin. Then it would be tossed into Tarturus. Hundreds of Dark Wizards were dealt with like that during the War. Meanwhile, Draco and Dumbledore would fight the second war while Hermione and Ratliff would be manipulated into creating us. Once that happened, Harry would be delivered unto Marissa, along with Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. We could have ruled the world . . ." She looked up at the ceiling, unable to continue.

Dumbledore and walked over to Helena, resting his hand on her shoulder as he refilled her teacup.

Helena seemed to draw strength from Dumbledore's touch. "But Gary killed Crystal and Amanda, leaving me to isolate Harry alone. Suddenly, I not only had to keep Harry and the others under control, but watch my own back." She leaned forward, elbow on her knee, hand on her forehead, shoulders slumped.

She looked incredibly weary.

"To be Harry's sister," she said softly, "I had to be a Gryffindor to my fingertips. Selfless, strong, brave and loyal. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being an act." She raised her head to look at them. "And here I am."

Dumbledore looked expectantly at Gary.

"I was waiting until after the Holidays," Gary said. "When Hogwarts would be cut off for twenty-four hours." His eyes lost their warmth and killer came out. "Couldn't risk any of you getting away, could I?" Then the killer disappeared again.

"And what about me?" Harry demanded, leaping to his feet. "You and those things are fighting your own damn war while we're nothing more then pieces!" He glared at McGonagall. "And you were helping him! Why? Didn't you care? Or is it just more important that we be left in the dark. Why wasn't I told?"

"Because none of them would have believed you," Helena said. "Among our abilites is the power to manipulate the mind with a touch. Ever since we met on the train, I've been encouraging you to not be curious, to trust me more then anyone, to do what you're told." She smiled. "Your mind is very strong, Harry. I had to touch you a lot to keep you the way they wanted you."

Harry glared at her and then sat back down in his chair, staring at the front of Dumbledore's desk.

"What do we do now?" Baron asked. "The Sues have to be stopped."

"We do nothing," Gary said. "You wait until Hogwarts is cut off, I'll kill them all."

"Don't bother," Helena said. "We'll be dead by Spring."

"Dead?"

"There's a flaw in our design," Helena said. "When we took these hosts, we destroyed their minds and replaced their concious thought with our own. But the memories remain intact and memories are made up of our experiences. In experience lies personality. We're becoming who our hosts were and forgetting who we are."

"And this is bad, how?" Ron asked.

"Because even when its over, there's a good chance that we'll still have our powers. Without the memories of what we were, we'd run rampant. A horde of teenage girls with the power to do anything we want. Anything at all."

"Nothing we can't handle," McGonagall said. "You've just described most of the female students at Hogwarts.

Helena shook her head. "You don't understand, we didn't land in England, we landed in America." She pressed a hand to her chest. "These are American teenagers. Muggles, in fact. From a suburban high school."

"Oh, God!" Hermione exclaimed in horror. "No!"

Helena nodded. "It's already surfacing in the others. They're forming cliques, obsessing about their appearance," she made a face. "Worrying about status."

"But you're amazingly immune to this flaw?" Hermione's tone was scathing. "You're the speshul one?"

"Hardly," Helena said. "I took one of the wallflowers. The ones who sit along the wall, watching the others. We think alike, she and I. But soon, I'll be gone, just like the others. But before that happens, I intend to see them fail."

"I see," Dumbeldore said. "The night is wearing on, though. I believe Mr. Stuart's plan, as risky as it is, is the only one that has a chance of success."

"No it doesn't," Helena said and pointed at Hermione at Ron. "They know too much."

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked.

"Explain," Baron snapped.

"The plan was too isolate Harry," Helena said. "Not Hermione and Ron. Knowing what they know, even the others will realize that the plan's been spoiled once they encounter them."

"We can pretend," Ron said. "I can act."

"Think, Weasley," Helena snapped. "Remember what they've made you do. Look at what you're wearing. That's only because you were firmly under their control. Do you really think you can fool them? If you can't, if you slip, they'll realize that somebody snitched. When that happens, they'll finger me and scatter. Once that happens, we may never find them." She took a deep breath. "I have to put them back under, with one small modification. The moment Hogwarts is isolated, they'll wake up. I assume that's also the moment Gary was planning to start his work."

Gary nodded.

"Are you crazy?" Ron demanded. "How do we know we can trust you?"

"You don't. But Gary's another matter. If you don't wake up, or if I put Harry under, he'll kill me and I don't want to die. Not like that. Not a meaningless death."

"She's right," Baron said coldly. "As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. Harry could probably get by, especially with Marupo dead, but not those two."

"I find myself in agreement," Dumbledore said softly. He looked at Hermione and Ron. "I will not order you, I will not even ask. This must be your decision entirely." He gestured at the stairs. "You may talk it over up there, if you wish. Take as long as you desire."

Hermione nodded and she and Ron walked up the stairs and out of sight. As soon as they were gone, Gary was out of his chair, across the room as he armor exploded out of his skin. He grabbed Helena by the front of her robe and threw her into Hermione's chair.

Eyes blazing, he lifted her to her feet and pressed his claws to her chest. "A word of warning, Sue," he said. "If this conversion isn't entirely genuine, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure your death makes a meaningless death look like Paradise. Especially after you die and what's left doesn't even remember why she's being tortured."

"It's genuine," Helena said gravely. "I swear to you, on the honor of the House, I am one of you. I am a Gryffindor."

Glowing red eyes narrowed. "So was Pettigrew," he snarled and let her drop.

An hour later, Ron and Hermione returned, Ron looking decidedly mussed. "We've decided," Hermione said. "We'll let Helena put us back under if that really is the only way."

"It may not be," Dumbledore said, gravely. "There are usually other options that we come up with only afterwards. But we can't worry about those. This is all we have. Are you sure about this?"

The two Gryffindors nodded.

"Very well then," Dumbledore said and nodded to Helena.

"Once you leave this pass the gargoyle that gaurds the stairs below, you'll revert to how you were before tonight," Helena told them as she touched their cheeks.

Hermione nodded and then went to Harry and hugged him. Ron did the same.

"Let's get this over with," Ron said in a worried tone and they both left the office.

"I should go as well," McGonagall said and then looked at Harry. "As should you, Mr. Potter. Knowing the truth does not excuse you from your schoolwork and you do require sleep."

"Quite right," Dumbledore said. "But I would like for you to stay for a few moments, Minerva. There is something I want to talk to you about."

"Come on then," Harry said to Gary and Helena. "Let's go."

"Ah, Mr. Stuart," Dumbledore said.

"Hm?" Gary asked and then looked down at himself. "Oh." His belt buckle, which Harry realized that Gary had recived that day at the Burrow, began to glow as the bone plates retracted into Gary's skin, the holes of their passage sealing up as though they were never there. Then his clothes faded into view, fully intact, as the glow faded.

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked.

Gary shook his head. "A little bit. Nothing I can't handle." But there was something in his voice that said otherwise.

"Goodnight, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Miss Potter, Mr. Stuart."

"Good night, sir," Harry said quietly and the three of them left.

When the door closed, all the chairs but McGonagall's and Baron's vanished. "Minerva, Professor Baron has information you need, and there's some others things to attend to."

Baron took a deep breath and looked at McGonagall. "It's good to see you again, Professor." McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I call myself Nessia Baron, but I was born Hermione Granger."

"Tea, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.