Hi there. First up I want to thank all those who have taken a liking to this story. The initial reaction to it was far beyond my expectation, with over 2k views for the first chapter in less than a week. The many favs and follows as well as the encouraging Reviews are a great motivator to strive to give you the best story I can. So thank you very much for your interest.

But there is one thing that I wish to clear up here since it has been brought up in some reviews. Tywin and Aerys had been mentioned as characters in the description because both of them will play a pivotal role in the life of our young healer. But neither of the men is meant to be a romantic interest. Both are married in 271 AC, Tywin is married happily and Aerys... he's married, let's leave it at that. There are so many other characters in ASoIaF, especially in this time period, who can be much more compelling partners. I have some in mind at this point, but I have not decided who it will be.

Okay, let's continue with the story. Have fun...

The sun was burning down from above, as Dorea watched the large crowd move through the busy streets of Diagon Alley. Children, all filled with happiness and anticipation were dragging their parents along, as they tried to get all their supplies. The Hogwarts letters had been sent out recently, and now the busiest weeks of the year had hit magical shopping district.

Dorea herself watched the commotion from a little table outside the Ice Cream Parlour, hidden behind heavy glamour spells to assure her privacy. So many years after the war the scars had been all but forgotten and Dorea was glad to see that life had returned to the place that once filled her with so much wonder and excitement.

Even the very place she was sitting now, the Ice Cream Parlour itself, had suffered during the war. The original owner, a kind man named Florean Fortescue, was one of the many victims of the dark lord's mad reign. One of those who had disappeared, never to be seen again. Now the place was open and running again, lead by some cousin of Florean...

Seeing the world now, back to its lively state, was the ultimate humiliation for the monster who had called himself Voldemort. He had murdered, he had ravaged their world, but he had not broken it.

If only she could say the same about herself. Even now she still dealt with the consequences of her experiences. Just by closing her eyes she could see it again, the war-torn world. The empty streets, the destroyed shops and fearful looks of the few people who had dared to venture out of their homes to provide for their families. All just a heartbeat away.

The chair next to her made a creaking sound, as someone sat down on it. Dorea tore her gaze away from the crowded street and looked to her left. The familiar face of her favorite Weasley looked back at her.

"Hey, Ron," she greeted, "Fancy meeting you here." It didn't come as much of a surprise that he would recognize her despite her best attempts to hide. Of all the people in the world, Ron Weasley probably knew her best. Even his own mother had commented more than once that Ron knew more about her than he knew about his own sister, something that Ginny wasn't even angry about. Ron and Dorea had been close as siblings from the very beginning, even though they could fight about the most ridiculous things and often spent entire weeks not talking to each other because of a disagreement.

"Right," Ron snorted, as he eyed her ice cream with great longing.

Dorea laughed, as she pulled her ice cream out of his reach, "None for you. Your mom made sure that everyone in the family knows that you are on a diet, Ron. I really don't want Molly to harass me for giving you ice cream."

He muttered something unintelligible and looked away from her, "Seriously, I am an adult now, I should be allowed to eat whatever I want whenever I want."

"If you fancy sleeping on the couch, go ahead. As far as I know, Hermione is in on Molly's plot to make you slim down," Dorea shot back, as she looked pointedly at his growing belly. "Seriously, Ron, you look like you are the one to give birth to the next member of the Weasley family."

"No way, that's Hermione's job now," Ron blurted out.

It took Dorea moment to realize what her best friend had just blurted out. "Wait a second, is that why she had been so insufferable during her last visit? And why didn't she tell me herself? I am the Weasley family's goddamn healer for these kinds of things, she should have come to me with this!"

She had been the one to help the last four members of the Weasley family to enter this world. The mere idea that her best friend was pushing her away when it was his own first child in question seemed rather ridiculous.

"Well… I don't really..." Ron began to stammer.

Dorea glared at him. Fighting with one of her closest friends was one thing, but this… being kept in the dark was far worse. "Spit it out, Ron."

"It's been horrible this past week. Especially after she had returned from Grimmauld Place. I swear she nearly caused Percy a heart attack when she snapped at him the next day. Not to mention that she's been biting my head off ever since. This is only the beginning of it all and… Rea, I can't survive nine more months of this," Ron whined. "Had I known how bad this would be, I would have asked Kingsley for a long mission in a far away country the moment I noticed something was off, but now I can't without Mione and Mom hunting me down!"

"Ron, why didn't she tell me?" Dorea asked again. It irked her more than it should. She was still angry with her pushy friend, but that didn't mean that she expected to be left out like this.

"Rea, we have only found out about that two weeks ago. You were the first she wanted to tell, but at first, you had been too busy for anyone to contact you and when she finally did manage to ambush you at your home for once, things didn't go as planned. When Mione got back she was really pissed and... well, you kind of ignore all her letters at the moment."

"Right, the letters. Dammit," Dorea cursed. Of course, the life-changing things only happen when she is pissed at her friend and ignores her.

"So, Rea, since my wife doesn't tell me why you two are fighting and likely never will tell me anything about this, I came to see you. So would you please tell me why I am the one being punished when you two are the ones fighting?" Ron pleaded.

Dorea didn't answer immediately, instead, she finished her ice cream, much to Ron's suffering. Maybe it was deliberately cruel to do this slowly and right in front of him, but the kicked puppy look on his face was hilarious to behold.

"Mione caused me a lot of trouble with her meddling." She worded her answer carefully. She didn't want to drag Ron into her mess, especially since he was an Auror and couldn't act against the Ministry, not even a corrupt branch like the Unspeakables, without risking his career. He would stand by her side in a heartbeat, but this wasn't his fight. And with a child on the way, Dorea would much rather see both her friends as far away from her as possible. At least until the entire matter had been dealt with.

"That was not very specific," the redhead deadpanned.

Dorea could only shrug in return, "Mione didn't wanna talk about it, so I won't either. I really don't want to give her another reason to bother me about the wrong things. She has to keep her nose where it belongs."

She desperately searched for something, anything to change the topic of their conversation. As luck would have it, she got her wish, in the form of a small golden ball that rushed past her head. Almost on instinct, her hand shot up grabbed the offending little thing.

"Nice reflexes, Rea," Ron praised, "Still a seeker at heart." Of course, Quidditch would be the perfect way to distract Ron. The sport was omnipresent on his mind and once mentioned, the man just couldn't stop talking about his favorite pastime...

Dorea laughed, as she looked at the Golden Snitch in her hand. It hadn't been very fast, at least not as fast as the one they had used for the games at Hogwarts. And it was slightly bigger than usual. A training Snitch for beginners perhaps?

She looked around, searching for the possible owner of the ball. She found a group of children nearby, just outside the parlor, obviously searching high and low for something. When they saw her with the Snitch, they came running.

"Can we have that back, miss?" one of the children asked quickly.

"Sure. But you better put it back in its box until you are back at your home. You will only lose it here." She smiled fondly at the children. They were young, too young to have seen the war with their own eyes. Lucky them, Dorea thought. Giving them a chance to live a normal and happy life made all her own sacrifices worth it in the end. At least she tells herself that.

"Will do! Thanks, miss," the child replied with a toothy grin before the entire group of children disappeared into the crowd once more.

"I will never understand why you didn't join a proper Quidditch team after the war," Ron lamented, "You could have saved the Chuddley Cannons with your skills, instead they are still at the bottom of the league."

He sulked, as Ron would always do when someone talked about his favorite Quidditch team. His mad love for the worst team in recorded history had been the cause of many jokes before. But to Ron his beloved Cannons are more than just a simple team, that much was clear.

"I had considered it, Ron," she told him honestly, "Especially when Oliver had all but dragged me to a recruitment event for his team. But I just couldn't. It seemed too selfish to do something that makes only myself feel better."

Her friend grumbled again, "Sometimes you are just too bloody self-sacrificing, Rea. And you could have made all of us happier by ending the bad luck of the Cannons!"

He was so obsessed with his favorite team, an obsession she had never shared. She had played for Gryffindor with all the vigor she could muster, but these days she realized that she hadn't done it for the sake of the sport or the sake of her team, but for her love of flying. To enjoy the freedom she could only feel while riding her broom at a breakneck pace… And, later on, to spite Draco Malfoy. Especially after he had bought himself a place on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"It wasn't meant to be, Ron."

"Come on, Rea, we both know that you wanted it. Even if they had forced you to join Wood's team, you could have been the new star of the sport!"

There is was again, that grumbling and repressed anger on Ron's part. Oliver's team, Puddlemere United was the complete opposite of the Chuddley Cannons and Ron hated them for it. He wasn't the only one who felt this way. Sports rivalries... Dorea had spent one too many nights, nursing fans back to health after post-game sessions of hit the Bludger with bats but without Bludgers.

"I just don't share Oliver's obsession with the game. Or yours," she admitted, "And I am pretty sure that Wood's interest in having me on the same team wasn't just about playing Quidditch."

Ron shuddered as he heard that, "You... and..." he tried to figure it out, but by the looks of it, his brain had short-circuited somewhere halfway through her statement. "That's a revolting metal image, I think I gotta puke," he balked.

She kicked him under the table, "I know I am not exactly the best person to have around since..." she paused a moment to compose herself again, "But that was way too insulting," she hissed.

Ron remained silent after that. She had obviously misunderstood what he had really meant and she realized it quickly enough, but the damage was done. Another one of those awkward silences that were utterly painful to endure. There were still way too many things they wouldn't speak about

And what was he supposed to answer? He had never been the most tactful person and he knew that he had once more put his foot in his mouth, but it was too late to pretend it never happened. And what did she expect him to say? That everyone had known that she was broken, but they were all too busy giving her space to do something about it?

No, Dorea knew it wouldn't be fair to judge them like this. They all had suffered and lost as well. Ron had lost a brother and all of them had lost friends. Didn't change the fact that she had been left alone with her own demons, though. In the end, she put herself back together, without their help. Healing others had healed her as well, something that none of her friends could ever hope to understand.

"You know what, I've gotta run. Places to be and all that," Dorea suddenly blurted out. It was a lie, but she just wanted to get away and be alone for a while. Yeah, because she spends so little of her free time alone these days…

"Rea, wait!" Ron called after her, but she ignored him and disappeared in the crowd. He tried to hurry after her, but by the time he reached the part of the Alley where it was possible to apparate, she was already gone. "Damn," he cursed, "Mione is going to kill me for this."

Dorea, meanwhile, arrived at the one place where no one would expect her to go. Hogwarts, or more precisely, the lonely grave of the former headmaster Albus Dumbledore. All her friends knew by now that her relationship with the man had been strained at best, so none of them would expect her to visit his grave. Ironically enough, being near the man now was the best way for her to be left alone. Even dead the headmaster continued to influence her life in ways no one could have foreseen.

The White Tomb of the late headmaster looked bright and glistening in the summer sun, especially with the backdrop of the Black Lake and its dark water. There was no other person to be seen, as she had expected. No one came to visit at this time of the year. The students wouldn't return to school for another seven weeks and even the teachers were not at the school at all times.

It was almost eerie how quiet it was, as Dorea reached the tomb itself and placed her hand on it. The white stone was in pristine condition once more, free from any blemish and the destruction Voldemort had caused when he had come to steal the Elder Wand.

Dorea herself had returned to the grave twice before, each time opening the tomb to return the cursed wand to the one man who should have kept it for all eternity. Each time the wand returned to her, stubbornly refusing to abandon her side. Each time she had taken a long look at the dead headmaster, the man who had been both a good as well as a bad influence on her life.

Once upon a time, she would have called him a grandfatherly guide, but after finding out about all his machinations and plans, resentment came all too easy. He hadn't done any of it out of malice, but for the greater good of their whole world, but still... forgiveness is never easy.

Coming to terms with the role Albus Dumbledore had played in her life had been part of her own healing process. At this point, she could understand why he had done it, though she couldn't bring herself to forgive him...yet. She had an eternity to ponder this further, so maybe one day she might find it in herself to forgive him.

"Why do I keep coming back here?" she wondered, "I should visit the castle or maybe Hagrid not the only grave at the school… Way to go, Dorea, you've become a morbid weirdo..."

She looked towards Hogwarts in the distance. The castle looked as magnificent as the first time she had laid eyes on it, some fourteen years ago. It had been her home, her sanctuary, and her torture chamber. So many fond memories and so many grueling ones as well.

Dorea's tranquil moment was soon brought to an end by the arrival of another person. A fair-haired woman in very elaborate robes made of dark silks. She looked quite out of place, as she moved past Dorea and towards the tomb. Once there, she placed a single white daffodil on top of the tomb.

Not wanting to intrude, Dorea was about to leave, when the woman spoke to her.

"It's quite odd, you know, caring about the passing of one specific old friend when you've already lost so many others. Time is not our friend, even though it does not ravage us as it does others."

Dorea was confused. Just what was this woman talking about?

"I'm not sure I understand," she admitted.

"Immortality, my dear, is as much a curse as it is a gift. It gives you the chance to experience a hundred lives, but it also breaks your spirit each time by stealing everything you hold dear."

A feeling of dread overcame Dorea, as she heard this. Just how does this woman know about her condition? Was she another Unspeakable, here to make more not so subtle threats? They certainly know that she has the three Deathly Hallows, so it wouldn't be too surprising for them to have figured out that possessing all three comes with the unwanted gift of immortality.

The woman didn't wait for a reply and continued, "Albus had been a good friend and a very attentive student of my husband," she sighed, "Such a delightful mind, open and curious. He had almost been lead astray, but did the right thing in the end, even when it had cost him dearly."

"Who are you?" Dorea demanded to know.

Just who was this woman? Her little story would suggest that she had known the headmaster when he had been a mere student. But the woman didn't look any older than her mid-thirties. Was she another immortal? How? Why here? Why her?

The woman turned towards Dorea and studied her with a keen gaze. Her pale green eyes lingered longer than Dorea was comfortable with.

"My name, dear one, is Perenelle Flamel. But you might be more familiar with my husband Nicholas."

Flamel! Nicholas Flamel, the creator of the Philosopher's Stone. But… Dumbledore had said that the Stone had been destroyed at the end of her first year at Hogwarts. The headmaster had told her that the Flamels would die without the constant use of the Elixir of Life. How much Elixir had they stored, to survive for more than a decade without the Stone? Or maybe the effect of the Elixir lasts much longer than any other potion… So many questions, but no answers.

"You look confused, my dear," Perenelle said. The woman approached the stone bench near the tomb and sat down. She patted the place next to her, "Sit with me and I try to explain some things to you."

Dorea did as she was told, albeit reluctantly. And even after she had sat down, she made sure to keep as much distance to the ancient witch as possible.

"Now then, do you have any questions about immortality?" Perenelle asked.

One? She had hundreds of them, the most important of those being how she could get rid of this curse. She really didn't want to watch everyone she knows and loves wither away and die while she remains youthful.

"How do you know about me being immortal?"

Perenelle smiled benignly at her, as she stared at Dorea for a long moment. Eventually, she answered with a small laugh, "The Peverell blood in your veins is a telltale sign, my dear. I once knew your ancestress, Iolanthe Peverell. You wear her face well, though your eyes are all wrong. Her eyes had been the brightest blue, yours are as green as an emerald. And of course, Iolanthe told me about her heirloom and the others."

That was quite a surprise. She had seen Iolanthe Peverell on the Potter family tree which had been stored in her family's vault at Gringotts, but she had not expected ever to meet someone who had met the last Peverell in person. But the Flamels are really ancient, so maybe this shouldn't have surprised her as much...

"And how are you still alive? Headmaster Dumbledore told us that he has destroyed the Philosopher's Stone."

Perenelle laughed again. It irked Dorea that her question seemed to amuse the witch as if she was a foolish child asking obvious questions.

"Albus has certainly destroyed a stone. A little red one, I believe. Nicholas actually found it at a shop in Singapore some thirty years ago. A few hours of target practice with low powered curses and it radiated this wonderful feeling of powerful magic. Albus never found out about our little… ploy."

"That is… unexpected. Even Voldemort believed it to be the genuine article," Dorea replied.

For a moment she tried to imagine the look of outrage on the monster's face, had he managed to steal the stone only to learn that it was absolutely worthless. But this also meant that she had risked her life and the lives of her friends for absolutely nothing… just her luck.

"So what now?" Dorea finally asked. "What will you do with the knowledge about my... condition?"

"Now, my dear, you need to make a decision. I can offer you all the knowledge you seek and more, but that will come at a price."

"What price?" Dorea demanded.

Perenelle laughed once again, "An eager one I see. As expected, Iolanthe was the same, though she had been my teacher, not the other way round. And the price, dear one, is one you have to pay either way. Your life." The woman's insufferable smirk only widened, when she saw the look of genuine shock on Dorea's face. "You won't die, my dear, that should be almost impossible by now. Death does not release its champions so easily. But your life as Dorea Potter must come to an end."

This did nothing to alleviate the feeling of dread that had grown within Dorea's chest. Giving up her life, could she really do that? What about her friends, her family? What would the magical world do should she just disappear? The Daily Prophet would have a field day, accusing her of all the evil in the world and more, just for not being where they expect her to be.

"I don't know what to say," she almost stammered.

Perenelle used this moment of shock and moved closer on the bench, close enough so she could put her arm around the younger woman's shoulders and pull her into an almost motherly hug.

"It is never easy, Dorea."

Dorea stiffened a bit, both due to the surprise of the woman touching her and hearing Perenelle say her name for the first time in this conversation.

"We have watched you for some time, my husband and I, and let me tell you, everything will change very soon. We are not the only ones who know your secret and there are powers at work that don't want anyone to be immortal. They will strike, it is inevitable. But seeing your struggles and your growth, I can't deny that I've grown fond of you. Let me help you, before those who can only harm try to get you."

"The Unspeakables… would they really dare to attack me? Are they really that bold?"

"They are. But they are not the only ones. Your achievements have gained you may enemies. Envy is a beast that grows with every day and there are many who just wait for an excuse to strike at you."

"But... So far I've only had trouble with the Unspeakables and they don't even know about my... condition. They just want the Hallows..."

"That will change, my dear. Us Immortals are never safe among those who chose to meet the unknown with fear and suspicion. Your enemies will be the first, but even those close to you will start to wonder just how much your immortality has changed you. Eventually, distrust will win out, especially in this flawed society of wizards and witches."

Hermione's reaction came to mind. Dorea couldn't deny that her friend's reaction to finding out about the Hallow's side effect had been less than promising. Hermione didn't mean her any harm, she would only try to help, but Dorea wasn't foolish enough to delude herself that her friend would sooner treat this unnatural condition like a curse that needs to be purged. All to help a friend in need, even if said help is both unwelcome and damaging.

"But I can offer you a chance to get away from everything before it comes to that. All you have to do is accept my offer and give up on Dorea Potter," Perenelle told her with a soothing voice, "The choice isn't easy, but soon you will lack alternatives."

Her worry grew even more, as she listened to Perenelle's warning. The two days the Unspeakables had given her to hand over the Deathly Hallows were nearly up and she had tried to avoid thinking about the consequences of denying them. She wouldn't budge, but that didn't mean that she wasn't worried about the potential consequences of her choice.

"I can't just run away from everything," she decided finally. "If need be, I will fight for my life." And she wouldn't hesitate. She was sick and tired of being everyone's punching bag, should the Unspeakables try to force her, she would teach them why Voldemort had learned to fear her in the end.

Perenelle seemed disappointed by this choice, as she looked sadly at Dorea. "Foolish. A bit admirable, maybe, but clinging to your current life will only end in tragedy. But no matter, it's not like our time in this world is running out or something. You will change your mind."

Dorea wanted to rebuke her but found that she couldn't. One day she truly might accept Perenelle's deal, it's not like she would be selling her soul to the devil… right? But she wouldn't give up being Dorea Potter at the first sight of new problems. She had won a war for the right to live a peaceful life and now she would defend that right if she had to.

Deep down, however, she just felt tired of it all. Always fighting, always struggling against one enemy or another. Giving up who she is might be too much at this point, but leaving all that makes her feel miserable behind might actually be a good idea. Dorea Potter is a damaged entity, burdened by too much bad blood and sad history. Yet it is also the life her parents and her godfather had died to protect...

"I will leave you here, my dear. But before I go," she stopped and pulled out a small pendant from the folds of her robes. "A little gift for you. Should you feel the need to escape, take the pendant in your hand and focus your magic on it. Someone will come to pick you up and bring you to me."

"You won't come yourself?" Dorea asked as she looked at the pendant with undisguised suspicion.

Perenelle laughed again, "No, my dear. I will be gone from here for some time. A century, maybe, depending on how things proceed. But I do hope that it won't take a century before we will meet again." A look of longing passed over the old witches face, as she raised her right hand to caress Dorea's cheek. "I lost Iolanthe once, I won't lose her last descendant now." She let out a wistful sigh before she turned around and walked away.

Moments later, Perenelle was gone. Dorea had no idea where the woman had went and what she would be doing, but the questions she had left behind would bother her for a long time.

"Time to go home, before some other weirdo shows up to make my head hurt," Dorea muttered before she apparated back home.

As Dorea was left behind to ponder her situation, Perenelle returned to a small mansion near the sea. She felt tired, almost as if the many centuries of her life were trying to catch with her at long last. A small sip of the Elixir would make her feel better.

First, however, she had to find her husband. Nicholas would need to hear of her encounter with Iolanthe's heir.

She found him outside, on a balcony. He was watching the sea, though his mind seemed far away again. How often had she found him like this, pondering the mysteries of their existence and the seemingly impossible task that had been presented to them when they had been mere children themselves.

"Nicholas!" she called out to him. He acknowledged her presence only with a hum, but otherwise, he didn't move to greet her. "I've finally been able to approach her undisturbed."

"Is that so?" he mumbled, "But she isn't here with you."

"No," Perenelle shook her head, a look of disappointment on her face. "Dorea has still not given up the fight, even though this world is no longer her own."

Not everything had worked out as she had planned, but the seed had been planted. That's what counts. Soon enough Dorea would come to her and then they would be able to complete the plan Iolanthe had hatched all those centuries before.

"Give it time, Penny, she will come to us sooner or later. A few more decades won't matter in the greater scheme of things," Nicholas assured her. "She will come to terms with her situation and then she will come to us."

"Maybe, but let this old woman hope that we won't have to wait for too long," Perenelle sighed, "But how did things proceed on your end?"

"Very well, in fact. The manse in Lys is ready for us to return. The servants have taken good care of it in our absence. It will be good to spend some more time back home. It's been far too long," Nicholas said with a wistful smile.

"Yes," Perenelle agreed, "Far too long. It's time for us to go home."

A/N: And enough for today.

I am aware that the beginning of the story does seem a fair bit darker than the canon events after the war. But I've decided to give Dorea a much more realistic view of the world and someone who has gone through a war, hunted and shunned, does not survive it all without scars. Both emotional and physical. This won't be a doom and gloom story and I have no intention to portray Dorea as a fragile, angsty woman. Neither is she an idealistic fool. But she has seen war and understands what it means to sacrifice, something that is very important when she enters a world where ruthless men like Tywin and Aerys are those in power.

So, next chapter Perenelle will get her wish, in some way. Dorea's journey in Westeros will begin, as her life in Britain comes to an abrupt end.

I hope you all like it. The next chapter will take a bit longer, since I will spend the next week at a nice beach on an island as far away from winter as possible. So expect the next chapter two weeks from now. Until next time, ciao...