Calming draughts were blue and tasted exactly how Lilian expected them to – terrible.
Tom had been the one to bring it to her, eyebrows furrowed and voice wobbly as he came to the girl's aid. She had burst into tears, clutching a strangely foreign square to her chest, and doubled over as if in pain. The potion had cost him a few silvers, and was seemingly worth every single one of them Lilian noted as she had swung it down without a second to pause.
Apparently shotting it made the taste more bearable.
The bartender had left her alone after that, placing a tray of shortbread biscuits in front of her before disappearing somewhere with a loud pop. It was apparation magic, she realised, and enough of a reason to start picking at the baked goods in front of her. The girl rubbed a thumb over her phone, feeling unceremoniously attached to her lockscreen which was a picture of her parents and sister from last Christmas.
The three of them were crowded around a stuffed turkey, dorky cracker hats crimpled over their heads with cheeky smiles on their faces.
'What do I do?' Lilian muttered to herself hopelessly, resting her cheek on the wooden surface as her eyes followed the remaining customers who swayed on their feet. She needed a plan, a way of making sure she had a place to stay for the night so that she could make her way home in the morning.
Was it even possible to go home?
Lilian snorted bitterly at the thought. She was stuck more than half a century in the past, and if that wasn't difficult enough to swallow, she was inside the world from her sister's favourite book. It was because of Penny that she had even bothered to read the series, getting as far as the fifth book before giving up. She had heard bits and pieces of it after that, mainly from her sister that would shriek and come to her crying in the middle of night over the death of another character.
It was only when the electricity had gone out at the bookstore had Lilian decided to open the sixth book. It was still stashed in her bag, she realised. The door to the Leaky Cauldron opened, letting a cheerful ding into the air as a trio of men walked in and to the booth opposite hers.
That had been another bombshell. Lilian nearly had heart failure after asking Tom for the name of his pub, choking on her tea.
Lilian supposed she could ask Tom about giving her a chance at waitressing. Glancing at the man from the corner of her eye, she crossed out that idea. He didn't seem like the kind of guy that would let an underaged girl work in a pub. Leaning back in her chair, she pushed a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. She shoved another biscuit into her mouth and sighed, the action catching the stare of one of the men from the table opposite her.
It wasn't so much his appearance that made him familiar, but the glint flashing off of his moon-shaped spectacles. Frowning at the niggling sensation that probed at the back of her mind, Lilian broke eye contact and went back to stuffing shortbread fingers in her mouth. The sound of a chair scraping as it got pushed back was what brought her gaze back, now firmly stuck on the robed wizard that was standing in front of her.
'I must admit, my dear, I didn't expect to be seeing you again so soon'.
Lilian blinked owlishly, 'Sorry?'
'I'm struggling to decide whether you are an illusion of my own imagination or a manifestation of my own guilt, either would be accurate I'm sure you would say'.
'I... think that you've got me confused with somebody else,' Lilian admitted, eyes sliding past the robed man and to his companions that were seemingly non-the-wiser to their friend's absence, 'In fact, I'm pretty sure'.
'Oh?'
Lilian nodded, lips pressed together in an tight grin, 'Look man, I've had a rough day and fighting over who I am really isn't on my list of things to-do right now'.
He stalled at her words, the space between his eyebrows beginning to furrow slightly. His eyes looked her up and down, taking in the smudge mascara and blood-stained jeans.
'A rough day indeed, Miss Evans'.
It was Lilian's turn to frown now, 'Eoghans'.
'I bed your pardon?'
'My name is Lilian Eoghans'.
That curiosity in his stare didn't fade at that, in fact she was almost positive she saw his spectacles twinkle underneath the pub lights.
'Oh, my mistake then, Miss Eoghans,' He said, 'You wouldn't happen to be related to a Lily Evans, would you? The resemblance is almost,' He paused before adding softly, 'Well, it's identical'.
A niggling at the back of her mind had her perking up at the name, eyeing the stranger with interest. She entertained saying yes, however decided against it.
'No, I can definitely say we're not related, Mister...' She trailed off, waiting for him to give her his name.
'My apologies, Miss Eoghans,' He reached a hand out for her to shake, 'Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts'.
It was unfortunate that Lilian had taken another bite of the shortbread, gasping mid-chew which caused a hacking fit. Rushing for her tea, she took a few gulps of the scalding liquid down her throat in an attempt to wash it down.
'Sorry, sorry,' She gave a final cough, 'I'm okay. I'm alive'.
'I surely hope so,' Dumbledore gave a soft smile as his eyes strayed to the currently lid-less teapot, 'I see you enjoy your tea with a slice of lemon'.
'It makes it-'
'-taste stronger, yes. I used to know someone who drank it like that too'.
Lilian could only nod, still slightly starstruck at the famous wizard in front of her.
'I'm sorry to have bothered you, Miss Eoghans, but I must get back to my dinner partners,' He gave her a warm smile before turning on his heel and starting on his way back to his table. Lilian nibbled on her bottom lip as she watched him sit down, the wheels in her mind already turning in full motion.
Dumbledore was supposed to be one of the "good guys".
Even from her limited knowledge of the series, he was one of the wizards that fought what he believed was right. Penny had spent a long night ranting to her about the man, listing out his many flaws as well as the way he had backed out of outright confrontation towards the end of his life.
Lilian knew that he could help her, in fact she was positive he would, but the question was for how long? Dumbledore had a penchant for sacrificing other people for the "greater good", and if the book in her bag was anything to be concerned about, she was seriously risking her own neck by even considering asking him.
She was from the future, that much was clear.
It wasn't a smart risk, but Lilian was quickly seeing her options dwindle and die. She was alone in this time; her parents were only just born in the mid-seventies and what would her grandparents think if she showed up, claiming to be their toddlers' kid from the future? Friends were another issue, none born earlier than the nineties.
She felt another wave of tears blur her vision as she laced her fingers together, playing with them in an attempt to distract herself from just how alone she was in this place.
Lilian knew she couldn't trust anybody, and whilst Tom had been nothing but accommodating and helpful she was only a customer that he hoped would come again. He had an ulterior motive to be nice, and when he realised she wouldn't even be able to pay for tonight where would she be? What would she do?
Swallowing her nerves, Lilian pushed herself out the chair and made her way towards the trio of men currently at the table. Dumbledore was the last to look up from his drink, his head cocking to the side as he watched her approach.
'Actually, Mister Dumbledore. Could I have a word?'
Dumbledore had booked a room on the second floor, a couple of doors down from where he was planning to stay for the night. He hadn't really given Lilian a choice in the matter, not that she would refuse all things considered. After paying for her tea and biscuits, as well as the calming draught, Dumbledore had simply given her a old fashioned key and told her to wait for him in the room 113. It was with an awkward grace that she hadn't burst into tears when he had passed her a few spare silver coins and told her to keep them, even going so far as to conjure up a spare set of clothes for her before he had ushered her up the stairs. There was a bathroom to the left of the room, blocked off by a rather moldy door that creaked when she entered it.
Dumbledore calmly spoke to her through the piece of bathroom door, engaging in basic small talk as she slipped into the dark, woollen jumper and knee-length skirt that she was given. They were too big for her, but anything was better than her blood-speckled jeans and sweat-stained shirt. A quick splash of water to the face and she was already feeling much more like herself.
'If I were a fruit I would probably be an apple: basic, but a classic,' Lilian answered, smiling slightly at the strange questions that were being thrown her way, 'Very good in pies'.
'I suspect a strawberry in my case, albeit my reasoning is purely because I enjoy them,' Dumbledore spoke from his seat beside the window, turning to watch as she sat cross-legged on the bed where she nodded along to his words.
'That's fair,' She propped a knee under her chin and wrapped her arms around her leg, 'I mean at least you didn't say kiwi'.
'Do you dislike kiwi?'
'It's a fruit with fur. Nothing good can come from that'.
'Indeed,' A sparkle in his eyes seemed to be dying out and rekindling itself every few answers she gave, 'Would a peach be along the same lines in your mind?'
'A peach has fuzz, that's different'.
A hum of amusement left the wizard, an eyebrow raised as he closed the conversation with a simple controlled glance out of the window to the grey clouds and fog that had descended upon the world outside. There were small drops of water on the glass, rolling down whenever they got too fat. Lilian glanced around the room again, noticing the way the theme of dark and gloomy reflected in every piece of furniture. The brightest thing in the room was the painting of an underwater city hanging across from the bed, made with gem tones of blue and green.
'Can I ask why you needed to see me, Miss Eoghans?'
Lilian couldn't help the scrunch of her nose at the name, wondering why he insisted on using her surname. She had asked him to call her Lilian, or even Lily if it meant the formality could be dropped. Blowing a strand of her fringe out of her eyes, she looked up at the dingy chandelier dangling from the ceiling.
'Believe it or not I'm trying really hard to not freak out again right now, so this might not make much sense,' She spoke, feeling a pair of tentative eyes on her. Her thoughts went back to the tube, wondering if it was possible that she concussed herself to the point of hallucinating. Dreaming had been ruled out, her torn up palms stinging enough for her to check it off the possibility list.
Dumbledore nodded along to her, encouraging her to continue whatever she was about to string together to explain herself. He brandished his wand and flicked it slightly, a silver tray floating from the corner of the room and into his lap, 'Might I suggest tea to calm the nerves?'
'I think I've had enough for tonight, thanks," Lilian smiled, "Although I wouldn't turn down something a bit stronger'.
'The legal age is eighteen, Miss Eoghans,' The teapot poured itself into the chipped china, 'Although I might turn a blind eye just this once'.
The girl watched him take a sip of his steaming drink, feeling her gut churn with every passing second. It was logical to see that Dumbledore would help her, but if he would believe her after this was another story completely. Looking towards the vanity, she spotted a familiar bottle of whiskey, already open and poured into a glass for her. It floated across the room and into her hands accompanied by a wink from the wizard.
Throwing a grateful smile, she drank it in one go.
'I guess I can start with the fact that I'm not from this time. I'm from almost fifty years in to the future,' Lilian started, refusing to catch the man's stare, 'All I know is that I took the eleven-ten tube to Charing Cross and somehow ended up…. here'.
'I see,' He took another sip, 'I assume this wasn't something you did intentionally?'
'I wouldn't even know where to start, if I'm honest. I didn't even know magic was a thing until today'.
'And yet you managed to enter the Leaky Caldron'.
'It's not like it was hidden away or something,' Lilian frowned. The door had seemingly melted into existence now that she thought back on it, 'Was it?'
The clink of the teacup on the saucer was accompanied by Dumbledore clearing his throat, 'The Leaky Cauldron only materialises in front of witches and wizards, a non-witch or non-wizard would see an abandoned and rundown building. It's very possible that your sudden time travelling has changed more than just the era you're in'.
Flopping back onto the bed, Lilian glanced at the ceiling and the multiple cracks that ran from one corner to the other, 'You're taking this a lot better than I did. Does this mean you believe me?'
'I'm not sure, Miss Eoghans,' He started, "Time travel usually involves a Time Turner and even then, the most one can go back is a week. The fact you claim to be from so far in the future is something I'm having trouble comprehending'.
'Are you serious?' She sat up with a drawl, 'You can levitate a tea tray, materialise clothing from thin air and yet my story seems impossible?'
'You have to draw the line somewhere I'm afraid'.
'Can you draw it a bit further down the line then? I honestly don't know what I'm supposed to do if you don't help me, let alone believe me'.
'I never said I didn't believe you, merely struggling to wrap my mind around it as a possibility,' He calmly spoke, a faint grin spread across his face at the fiery girl in front of him, 'It does strike me as a little strange that you chose me to ask for help from. You had no guarantee that I would do anything'.
Lilian couldn't hide how her eyes widened, 'I assumed you would. You work as a Headmaster don't you? Aren't you supposed to help wayward children?'
The lie was rough but she hoped it would work.
'As flattered as I am, I'm unsure of how you want me to help you'.
'I don't know either, Mister Dumbledore,' She admitted, pulling at a strand of hair nervously. What was she going to do now? She supposed her highest priority at the moment was to just get by, have a job with enough money for food and a roof over her head, 'I don't suppose you could send me home, could you?'
The look Dumbledore gave her then was enough of an answer. She felt herself shrink, and before she knew it another glass of whiskey was being poured in front of her. It levitated around her face for a moment, and then nestled into her barely outstretched hand.
'I must say,' He finally said, 'It is quite the coincidence that you happened to arrive today of all days, whether it is a stroke of luck or another problem I must solve is another question entirely'.
'Sorry,' Lilian found herself saying, too exhausted at this point to realise she was apologising for something that wasn't even her fault. Her hair was now sticking up at odd angles, dishevelled from the constant tugs and fingers raking through it. The calming draught Tom had brought her was wearing off already, having done its job for nearly three hours at this stage.
Dumbledore's eyebrow rose at her comment, 'This is something beyond a single person's fault, in fact I would think ultimately your presence may be due to the disappearance of Miss Evans'.
Lilian froze at that, 'What?'
'Miss Evans went missing at around ten-thirty yesterday morning, her belongings were still left at the dormitories,' He explained carefully, watching as the girl in front of him began to turn an unattractive shade of grey, 'We are currently uncertain as to whether she simply ran away, or if something much more sinister has occurred under our very noses. A promising young student does not just disappear into the night, not without a reason'.
His voice had become rather wispy and forlorn towards the end, a sign he was trying to figure something out himself. Lilian watched as the whiskey bottle floated towards Dumbledore who plucked it out from the air, tipping it gently into his teacup. It was suspended mid-flight again as he took a deep sip.
She was halfway through her second glass, this time deciding to nurse it.
There was a gnawing anxiety that lingered around her heart, digging its claws so deeply into her flesh that it hurt.
Lily Evans was missing.
'It's suspicious if nothing else, you must admit. The sudden disappearance of a student is something Hogwarts takes seriously,' He leaned forward in his chair, 'and your appearance makes me dubious as to the meaning behind it'.
'But she's Lily Evans, she's not meant to disappear! She's supposed to graduate and then - ' Lilian sunk deeper into the bed, 'Oh my God'.
'What was that, Miss Eoghans?'
'Nothing,' She could feel herself close to tears, 'Nothing. Sorry, just thinking'.
'Perhaps, you were meant to travel back in time,' He was watching the outside world through the windowpane, looking through the droplets that were now sliding down the glass at a faster rate than before.
'What?' Lilian was breathless, already having a gut feeling of where the conversation was heading. Her skin was damp behind her neck from her muted panic, the immediate need to run becoming louder and louder with every word that tumbled from the wizard's mouth. It felt like static had settled permanently underneath her skin as he spoke the words she was dreading to hear.
'The news of Miss Evans sudden disappearance is known already by the faculty at Hogwarts, however your existence is only known to me. I think it would be advantageous if you were to step into her shoes, so to speak'.
Lilian felt sick.
Not from the idea, but from the fact she was actually considering it.
She was alone in this time, any hope of family or friends coming to her rescue had long been shattered. She had no money, only the few silver coins that Dumbledore had given her, and even then she was sure it was only enough for a good dinner. There wasn't anywhere for her to go back to after tonight, and nobody that would be willing to help her besides the wizard in front of her.
There was clearly a hidden agenda.
Lily Evans had a life here, already shaped with at least four more years left before she was supposed to die by Voldemort's hand, so would it really be that bad to step in? It would only be until the Gryffindor came back after all; Lilian could learn how to survive in this place, and maybe even figure out a way to get back home.
Every moral reason to not go through with it was immediately shut down by a more pressing need to survive in her new surroundings. She couldn't help but feel hopeless, knowing already what she would say. It made sense now that Penny always said she was a Slytherin, Lilian mused with a bitterness that made its way to her pale face.
'You don't have to give me your answer tonight, but I must ask you to have one by the morning,' Dumbledore spoke softly, reading the sudden shift in her mood and posture, 'Goodnight, Miss Eoghans'.
Lilian didn't sleep well that night.