CHAPTER 2

Something wasn't right.

Harry was in an empty office at Auror Headquarters, on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, with a woman claiming to be…

"What's your name, ma'am?"

"Potter. Lily Potter".

It was not possible. Lily Potter died on October, 31st 1980. She gave her life for Harry.

You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated – to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day.

Harry remembered his late mentor's words like it was yesterday. Sacrificial protection. What kept him alive for all those years. Before.

When the woman said her name, Harry thought that, for some reason, he didn't want anybody to know about this, whatever this was. So he led the strange and disturbed woman to an empty office nearby which was used to store books and old reports, in case some of his fellow colleagues arrived from lunch and heard the conversation. They were sitting at the only desk in the office, opposite each other.

It was rather simple, really. Lily Potter was dead. Therefore, she couldn't be here in front of him looking like the whole world had changed. It had to be an imposter.

Everything is different.

Harry examined the woman a bit more closely She was slim, petite, had long red hair and… Harry's heart skipped a beat. Striking green eyes. But lots of people have green eyes and red hair. It didn't mean she was Lily Potter. Even if she looked kind of like her, she could not be her. Because that was impossible and not simple. And this was very simple.

Harry had learned by his time as an Auror that the most weird, tough to crack cases had usually a very simple explanation. He just had to look beneath the surface. So this had to be simple.

Harry had a gift. Every Auror at the headquarters had an intrinsic feature that distinguished them form others. Neville was amazing at putting pieces together to make a clear picture, he was good with details. Harry was more of see-the-forest-for-the-trees kind of guy himself which is why he always came to his friend whenever he felt like he was missing something. He also had an instinct to know when someone was lying.

When people lie, it stimulates three main sections of their brains. Lying activates: number 1, the frontal lobe for its role in the truth-suppressing process, number 2, the limbic system due to the anxiety that comes with deception, and number 3, the temporal lobe because it's responsible for retrieving memories and creating mental imagery.

It's possible to tell if someone is constructing made up information by which way they look and how the body responds. Looking in every direction as if trying to find inspiration, touching different parts of the body with their hands (whether it's massaging the neck, stroking the face or licking the lips), everything in order to gain time. If a person is trying to conceive a lie, he or she will tend to do whatever they can to stall so they have time to think of something believable.

As Harry paid more attention to this woman's movements, he could tell she wasn't lying. Her breathing was a bit erratic and she kept agitating her hands in the air, but that, in itself, didn't mean anything. She seemed confident in her words, was eager to make him understand her, her eyes were focused and kept eye contact at all times.

She actually believed what she was saying. She was telling the truth.

Her truth.

Because Lily Potter still died on that fateful Halloween night, that much Harry was sure of. So what did this mean then?

Harry's mind was racing, trying desperately to make connections, but failing miserably. He couldn't figure out what the hell was happening. And the words that kept coming out of her mouth were ludicrous, to say the least. Maybe it's too soon to rule out the mentally unstable theory just yet.

"My husband and I were trying to find Marcus," explained the woman. "He works at the Department of Mysteries so we went there. But we couldn't find him and we got lost. All these weird rooms kept appearing. Our surroundings kept changing. Suddenly, we were seeing people. Voices. Shadows. I don't know. That place gives me the creeps. But then it stopped. Everything was black. I cast a Lumus and illuminated our surroundings. There was nothing but a door in front of us."

"A door?" repeated Harry.

"Yes! We were in a dark room. Empty. There was only that door and- I know how this sounds, but it's the truth!"

"So, this door," continued Harry. "Where did it lead?"

"Out. To the atrium of the Ministry. Only I was alone, my husband was gone."

"And then what?"

"I went to my friend's house. Sirius. But I couldn't get in."

Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Grimmauld Place?" he asked with a disbelieving look on his face.

She looked triumphant. "Yes! You know it?"

"I knew him".

"Knew?"

"Sirius Black died in June of 1996," he simply said.

She looked at him with underlying emotion in her eyes. "Sirius isn't dead."

Harry had to give her credit. Her voice was quiet but it didn't waver. Like she was absolutely confident in her words.

"Because I spoke to him just a few days ago," she continued.

"At the Department of Mysteries?" Harry was trying to follow her logic.

"No, before. We were reunited at his house like always," she paused as if debating whether revealing some kinds of information to a person she just met was a good idea. She seemed to make up her mind as she said: "It's the headquarters. There's a group of us who don't agree with the regime and is trying to fight him."

"Who's him?"

"Voldemort."

"What do you mean 'there's a group of us'"? asked Harry.

"There are people who don't agree with the way things are and we're rebelling. Trying to get rid of the dark."

"The Order of Phoenix no longer exists," he stated, assuming her train of thought.

The woman released a horrifying gasp. "Why?" She looked like she was slapped in the face.

"It was no longer needed."

She looked suspicious of his words. "Are you part of the Order too?"

Harry couldn't help but notice how much she resembled Hermione when she was about to decipher a particular complicated piece of a puzzle.

"I already told you. The Order of Phoenix doesn't exist anymore. Voldemort is no longer a threat," said Harry.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but closed it just as sudden, seeming to realize something. She looked at Harry with intriguing eyes (and something like awe?), like she was beginning to feel that he knew more than he let on.

"You say his name," she observed, with a careful expression.

"Fear of a name only increases-"

"-fear of the thing itself," the woman finished. "Are you the one who's supposed to help us? Are you Dumbledore's secret weapon?"

Harry released a humourless laugh. Oh, he could tell her tales.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked otherwise, suspicion in his voice. "It seems you wouldn't want many people knowing these things. Like they are meant to be a secret."

She seemed taken aback by the question and Harry noticed that maybe she didn't know the answer herself. "I have a feeling you can be trusted. I don't know how to explain it but I do. And he already knows."

"He?"

"Voldemort!" she was starting to feel exasperated like she was tired and just wanted Harry to get it. So she didn't have to explain again.

Harry didn't know what to think. This woman, who was claiming to be Lily Potter, seemed to believe that Voldemort was, not only alive, but in charge of the entire Wizarding World. And that the Order of Phoenix still existed.

"It's been three days since we opened that door at the Department of Mysteries and I found myself alone in the atrium of the Ministry," she said. "I couldn't get into Grimmauld Place, so I tried going home, but the house was destroyed. My husband is nowhere to be found. So I went back to the Ministry, thinking that I might've missed him. That part of the building is so crowded anyway, but I didn't see him."

She waited for Harry to say something, but he just kept looking at her with a wary expression.

"I thought going back to the Department of Mysteries to look for him there, but they didn't let me past security," she continued. "Which was weird because I work here, but they didn't recognize me. And then I started to realise I didn't recognize most people."

She looked uncertain for a moment. When she spoke again, she kept her eyes in her hands which were folded in her lap. "I don't think I'm home, not really. I'm somewhere else. It looks like home but it doesn't feel like it. I spent a significant amount of time at the Minister, just observing, listening to people's conversation. It's amazing the things you discover when people think you're not paying attention," she paused and looked at him. "I'm not stupid. I know things are different from how I remember them."

"Why did you come here?" Harry finally spoke.

"My husband is an Auror so I know the Department quite well. I thought someone would be able to help me."

They were quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry's head was spinning. He didn't know if he believed her yet, though.

He suddenly remembered something. "Where are you staying?"

"What?" She was surprised by the random question.

"You said your home was destroyed," he clarified.

"Oh. There's an Inn not far from here."

A couple of Aurors entered the office, lost in conversation, apparently oblivious to the two people engrossed in a serious conversation, much different from the one they were having.

Harry cursed under his breath. It was Dawlish and Savage. It looked like the lunch break was over and the Aurors were getting back.

"-so I told her," said Dawlish with a shit-eating grin on his face. "'Is that a mirror I see in your pocket? 'Cause I can see myself in your pants!" Both men laughed stupidly, stopping when they realized they were not alone. "Oh, sorry."

His face looked suspicious when he recognized who was in the room. Harry merely raised an eyebrow as if daring him to say something.

John Dawlish and Harry Potter weren't exactly friends. Harry didn't trust him, believing his colleague was working for Voldemort before. He was never able to prove it, though. So he had to see him parade around the Department like he had the Ministry in his pocket. Bloody wanker.

"Come on, Oscar. Let's go somewhere else. This one's occupied," Dawlish told Savage, his eyes never leaving Harry's, in a silent threat.

When both Aurors left, Harry sighed, relief flooding through him. The woman's back was to the door, so they didn't get a chance see her face, which was just as well. He wanted to keep this unofficial for the time being. It seemed to be the best option. Just until Harry figure out what it was he was dealing with.

Plus, he learned a long time ago to never ignore his instincts.

"I think you should go," said Harry looking at the woman in front of him.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

"I'll see what I can do. Here, take this". He reached into his trousers' side pocket and took out a small black object and handed it to her, which she took. It was a mobile phone. He used it when his investigations required him to interact with the muggle world.

Harry tried to ignore the fact that she didn't ask what it was and didn't seem surprised by it in the slightest.

"It has my number on it," he said. "Call me if you need anything."

She looked relived. "Thank you, Mr…"

"Harry".

Harry saw her give her first smile. "Thank you, Harry."

"Don't worry about it, ma'am. It's my job."

"Please, call me Lily."

Harry didn't think he could do that. "What's your middle name?"

She looked surprised. "Uh… Janine."

Of course it is.

Harry tried not to think about the resemblances, convincing himself that it was pure coincidence that this woman had the exact name of his dead mother.

"Am I in the future? Is that why everything's different?" she asked.

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, from your reaction to what I was saying. About Voldemort and the Order of Phoenix. You seem to think they belong to the past."

Harry was surprised again. He didn't think she has been paying attention. It seems he had underestimated her. Even in her disturbed state, she still showed attention to detail.

"You can't travel back in time without a Time-Turner," said Harry. "The longest period that may be relived without the possibility of serious harm to the traveller – or to time itself – is around five hours. And you said you've been here for days."

"I know." She looked defeated.

"Besides," added Harry. "The Time-Turners located here, in the Ministry, were rendered useless in 1996, due to the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. While not destroyed per se, the entire stock was trapped in an endless loop of falling over, un-falling, and then re-falling, in an endless cycle for all eternity, thus unable to be used." He eyed her suspiciously. "It's common knowledge."

"Then why didn't I know that?"

Harry ran a hand over his hair, a habit he did when he was frustrated. He felt sorry for her. She looked disappointed and just… lost. He leaned over the desk.

"Go home, Janine," he suggested kindly. "I'll find you when I have something worth sharing."

xxx

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Harry found himself behaving on auto-pilot. Today wasn't very productive. He couldn't get Janine out of his head.

Deciding he wasn't going to be of much use anyway, with his current state of distraction, he packed up his things and was putting on his coat when his boss approached him.

"Potter, a quick word before you leave."

Robards made a motion for Harry to follow him into his office. "Have you finished your closing report on the Bates' case?" he asked, once inside.

Harry winced internally. He should have done that already. He had every intention of doing it today, was doing it today… right before Janine walked in.

"Not yet, sir."

His boss wasn't pleased. "Then what were you doing in the storage room?" he accused with a scowl.

Harry stifled a curse. Dawlish hadn't wasted any anytime.

He tried to keep his expression neutral. "Interviewing a witness, sir."

"What witness? You haven't been assigned any new cases yet."

Ouch.

"It's an informant." When Robards didn't seem convinced, he added: "She had some intel about the Bates' case. I was just making sure I was putting the right words in the closing report.

"Aren't you a perfectionist!" His boss was being patronizing. "What's her name?"

It was like his undercover missions. Generally, Aurors had a hard time being undercover for long periods of time in certain groups of criminal activity. Mainly, because, these criminals would certainly kill them if they suspected there was a traitor among them.

Usually, people came up with a fake background story, a fake personality. That was their first mistake. Fake stories are hard to remember when you tell a large amount of lies. Want to be a good undercover agent? Always tell the truth. And if they ask something you can't answer without blowing your cover, just don't say of these men have some things they don't want to share, so they won't care if you're being cagey.

When in doubt, always go with the truth.

"Janine," he said.

There was a pregnant pause in which both Aurors stared each other down, daring one of them to forfeit.

"Just write the sodding report," Robards finally said. "And log the interview with your informant."

"It's no use giving me those looks, Potter," he added when Harry couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You're the one who wanted everything carefully logged so the Department had records of all that goes around here".

Harry nodded. Robards was one of the good ones and a very competent Auror. But years on the job had made him paranoid. With good reason.

"Don't go rogue on me, Harry," he warned.

xxx

The next week went by like a snitch.

Harry had every intention on keeping his word and tried to discover what happened to Janine, if only for his peace of mind. He couldn't bear to have a mystery unsolved for long and soon he was digging deep into this, feeling his obsessive side kick in.

Since Harry wanted to keep this on the downlow, he didn't talk to anyone, afraid it might raise suspicion. The Auror Department had weekly meetings with the whole team to discuss current cases and assign new ones, which meant every Auror in the building knew exactly which cases Harry was working on and, as of right now, it was none.

He decided to try and discover information on his own, starting with the Department's Archives. Since the rebuilding of the Wizarding World, urged by Voldemort's downfall, everything was properly logged and registered. This was meant to avoid corruption and promote transparency, while also aiding future investigations. It also meant that Harry had lost count the amount of times extended charms had been used in the Archives in order to accommodate all files.

He didn't go very far, though. Nothing remotely interesting happened on the 22nd or the 19th, the day Janine supposedly noticed things were different.

So he went to the Ministry Archives. As much as he wanted to stay there all day, he didn't want to attract attention to himself since you had to sign the sheet with the clerk every time you went there.

Plus, going to the Archives wasn't much fun. It was ten times bigger than the Autor Department one and no none liked going there. Assigning an Auror to the Archives was Robards' way of punishing someone who did something they shouldn't have done.

He suddenly remembered there was a much faster way to know if something official happened around the Ministry. So, he decided to take a lunch break and pass by the Improper Use of Magic Office.

"No," said Hermione, bluntly, as soon as she saw his friend approaching her desk. She was moving around in a busy manner. Her desk had two different piles of paperwork almost as high as the golden poles from a Quidditch pitch.

"You haven't heard my proposition yet," said Harry with a smile.

"Harry, you only come see me at work when you want something," said Hemrione. "And, usually, you wanting something means I do something that I shouldn't."

"This time I only want information."

Hermione released a frustrated sigh. "Harry, we had this conversation countless times before. If you want to know something, you have to send in a request! You can't override the rules just because we're friends!"

"But you are my friend," said Harry looking smug, making Hermione's eyes widened with the insolence. "And it's an excuse to talk to you, really. We barely see each other lately."

"And whose fault is that?" she accused.

Okay, maybe it was his.

"You're not the only one who has work, Harry," she continued. "We're all busy, but we make time for each other."

"I know." Harry didn't really need a lecture right now.

Hermione stopped reorganizing her paperwork and reached out for Harry's hand, her voice much softer. "We just worry about you, is all. We miss you. I miss you"

"I'll stop by next weekend, how's that?" suggested Harry.

Hermione smiled and reached for her purse. "Okay, if you want to talk to me, you have to buy me lunch."

They decided to go to the Leaky Cauldron. Hannah Abbot, a friend from their Hogwarts' days, and Neville's current girlfriend, served them their food.

"You seem to know everything that goes on around the Ministry," said Harry, once Hannah was out of sight.

"I do like to keep updated," bragged Hermione.

"I need to know if something happened on the 19th".

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," she said, putting a piece of the salmon in her mouth.

"I can't," said Harry. "I don't really know what I'm looking for. Just that is something big. Noticeable. "

"Why don't you look in the Archives?" suggested Hermione. "If it happened, it's there."

"What about the other things that happen but don't end up in the Archives?"

Hermione gave him a wary look. "Everything gets logged now. If something happened, there's a record of that. You can't hide things anymore."

"Come on, Hermione, you can't be that naïve."

"Yes, I can. Things have changed, Harry," insisted Hermione. She gestured between the two of them. "We changed them!"

"But what if-"

"No, no what ifs! Things are good now. So stop with the conspiracy theories and eat your food!"

Harry ignored her. "You're a very well-respected woman at the Ministry."

"No use kissing my arse." Hermione drank her water.

"What I mean is that people talk to you differently than they do to me. I know I'm not the most sociable bloke. Plus, I'm an Auror, which itself is already intimidating. I was just wondering if you happened to stumble upon something…"

"Noticeable?"

"Yes!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you. I don't know anything."

Harry sighed with disappointment and looked down at his untouched food. He really had been hoping his friend would shed a light of this mystery.

"Well, there is one thing," said Hermione, as an afterthought. Harry's head immediately turned upwards. "I don't know about noticeable, since nobody seemed to notice it… And it's probably not very relevant, just a curiosity honestly-"

"Hermione," Harry warned. "You're rambling."

"Right. Sorry. I did hear something from Beth the other day. She was complaining about her husband, he works over at the Department of Mysteries, you know. And he told her something had happened over there, like someone had messed up big time."

My husband and I were trying to find Marcus. He works at the Department of Mysteries so we went there.

"Well, what happened?" asked Harry with excitement.

"I don't know. It was probably nothing significant anyway. I mean, do you even know what those people do over there?" Hermione laughed dismissively.

No, he didn't. Nobody did, actually.

They were quiet for a while, Harry playing with his steak which remained untouched.

"Is it possible for a person to travel through time?" he asked.

Hermione gave him an undecipherable look. "All the Time-Turners were destroyed, Harry, you know that."

Yes, he did know that. He was just hoping it could be possible.

"Is this for a case?" she asked with suspicion.

"Sure."

What else could it be for?

xxx

The next day, Harry thought it was time for reinforcements. He knew that if he talked to Neville, the conversation would stay between them so he wouldn't have to worry about it reaching the Head Auror's ears. He just had to keep it casual and act nonchalant.

Pus, Neville was a long-time friend of his, back from his Hogwarts' days, and was his first partner, so he trusted him completely.

"Hey there, partner," greeted Harry, sitting at Neville's desk, opposite him.

"Ex-partner. Yours is on leave and she'll be back next week, so brace yourself," warned Neville.

"She's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Are you serious? Do you know what's the last nickname she gave me? Snake slayer."

Harry burst out into laughter.

"It's not funny," said Neville.

"No," agreed Harry, wiping an imaginary tear off his right eye. "It's hilarious."

"I don't get you. How can you even be in the same room as her?"

"Look, I get that she's a bit…"

"Obnoxious? Insufferable? Dreadfull? Vile?"

"I was going to say unpleasant. She had a tough life." Neville gave him a disbelieving look. "People grow up, Neville, and they evolve. You know that better than anyone."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you were just a scared chubby little kid back then and look at you now, mate. You're ripped!" teased Harry making a motion to touch his friend's stomach. Neville glared at him. "She does seem to get a kick out of annoying you."

"She gets a kick out of annoying everyone."

"Well, we have to get along, we're partners," observed Harry.

"Yeah," Neville snorted. "I'd love to know how that happened."

"But I'm not here to talk about that. I was actually hoping you could help me out with something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I was wondering if you'd heard anything weird happening in the Department of Mysteries."

"Weirder than usual?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. Nobody really knows what goes up there. Not even the Minister himself."

Harry was quiet. Neville seemed to be trying to remember something.

"I did hear Robards say something, though," his friend said. "I guess someone screwed up and whatever it is they were doing didn't work."

"When did this happen?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Last week? On the 19th, I think."

It's been three days since we opened that door at the Department of Mysteries and I found myself alone in the atrium of the Ministry.

The day everything changed.

Harry's head was already spinning with ideas, making connections. He maintained his composure, though. "Neville, is it possible to travel through time?"

Neville looked surprised. "Not anymore. All the Time-Turners-"

"Were basically destroyed in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, I know," interrupted Harry. "But you told me yourself that no-one knows what people do in that place."

Neville made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Time-Turners were deemed too dangerous. Toying with time like that, it was considered too risky so the Ministry never had any intention of even trying to repair them."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "But what if they found another way?"

Neville gave him a suspicious look. "Have you been talking to Lavender?"

"No, why?"

"There's a rumour that's been around for years that the Department of Mysteries got hold of one the useless Time-Turners and is doing experiments with them."

"What kind of experiments?" Harry's interest peaked.

"Who cares? It's a rumour, Harry. One that was probably started by Lavender, who got bored one day and was in need of attention."

But Harry wasn't listening. If the Department of Mysteries was trying to travel through time, it was possible that Janine was who she said she was. Lily Potter may be really here. Alive.

"Thanks, Nev," Harry said distracted, getting up to leave.

"Hey, where are you going?"

But he was already gone. At his cubicle. Pacing. Thinking.

The Department of Mysteries was the only department in the whole Ministry which had no superior supervision. They claimed they dealt with top secret information, therefore couldn't risk people knowing about it, which was a lot of bull in Harry's opinion. The Auror Department dealt with top secret stuff too and, still, Robards had to engage in monthly meetings with the Minister of Magic.

However, the Department of Mysteries had no rules. Which was very dangerous. Rules were necessary to ensure a disciplined society. If everyone did whatever the hell they wanted, there would be chaos all around.

The whole Ministry had to succumb to scrutiny and changes were made to ensure the end of corruption, but the Department of Mysteries was the only one that still remained untouchable.

What if it was real? What if Lily Potter was really here?

She can't be. Lily Potter's dead.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by a high-pitched noise. It took him a moment to realize it was coming from own his pocket. His muggle phone was ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you said to call you if I needed anything." It was Janine. She sounded distraught. "Something happened."

"Where are you?" asked Harry with worry.

"I'm at the Inn. I just went to buy some food and when I came back, the whole place was a mess, rummaged. I think someone broke into my room."

Harry grabbed his coat. "Stay put and don't talk to anyone. I'll be right there." He hung up the phone, went to the nearest Apparition Point and tried to visualize the Inn Janine was staying.

Then, with a crack, he was gone.