"The Creator has determined that any changes their presence may make will not do undue damage to this timeline, as it differs from our own in many ways. Indeed, it is almost unrecognizable. We await your questions." It looked at him expectantly.
The headmaster was glad to finally be able to ask questions of his own. "May I know why you asked about those particular people?"
"Some are related through blood or marriage to the stated families. Or are enemies, new and old." That explained quite a few things.
"I see. You called yourself Scout and Herald. Why? Also, why have you been named 'Hagrid'?"
"The scout finds the path and discerns the enemies. The herald speaks for all." It cocked its head to the side; obviously this question was sensitive for some reason. Receiving permission, it spoke. "The Creator once told me that the one named 'Hagrid' was a good friend and protector, who died a warrior's death."
Dumbledore felt shock at his Groundskeeper's death, albeit in an alternate reality, but still. Hagrid was compassionate, a Gryffindor through and through who had never raised his hand to anyone in anger. He couldn't understand why his counterpart would die fighting in battle, which led to his next question. One he should have asked before as soon as he heard the words, 'scout', 'herald' and 'vanguard'—all words associated with war.
"You asked if we were at war, now I ask you; are you at war?" He asked sharply, not willing to allow a war from another reality to disturb the hard-won peace of his world.
"No." Before he could continue that line of questioning, it continued. "There was a war several years ago that devastated both the magical and non-magical world. Many Old families were wiped out. The ratio of children to adults are ten to one. The Ministry was destroyed. Hogwarts and many other schools in Great Britain fell only to be re-built again as the last remnants of the Wizarding community, thus we are the Remnant of Hogwarts."
"No…!" Cries of shock and denial rang out. "It can't be!" He shushed them all. "And who governs these 'Remnants'? Who leads Hogwarts? What do you do for medicine and education? What about the children? Where is my counterpart in all this, what has he done to help rebuild?"
"Each Remnant is governed by a Clan, different Families who have banned together for survival. The Remnant of Hogwarts is led by the Four, of House Granger, Evans, Black and Weasley. Each Remnant provides their own education as they see fit and medicine is administered through trial and error. Many children were orphaned, are the last of their families or were killed in the Aftermath. Your counterpart died years before the War officially began."
Every staff member collapsed to the floor or would soon follow, staggering, few were able to stand. The children stared wide-eyed in fear and horror, hardly making a sound.
"And the non-magical world, what's happened there?" Professor Evans' voice rang out, shaken but determined. She was one of the few still standing.
"The Prime Minister is nothing more than a puppet for the Underground," 'gangs' Petunia hissed when her colleagues turned to her, bewildered. "The economy collapsed. Unemployment increased by 68%. Many government-funded institutions were shut down, such as hospitals and schools, unless they were able to pay a 'protection fee' to the Boss. And then there was the Plague."
"What plague?"
"The Plague called Pestilence. It spread through the air and water, and attacked anyone under the age of ten. In the non-magical world all the children were killed, save a few who were somehow immune. The birthrate declined rapidly and the government began paying couples, or anyone capable, to produce a healthy baby that would live past the age of eleven."
Petunia's eyes closed and she sank slowly down to her knees. Her hands pressed together in her lap and her lips moved without speaking, as if in silent prayer. The Headmaster allowed himself and his staff to calm before he reminded himself that he wasn't done and he still needed some more answers.
"Then your Creator is one of the four who leads Hogwarts?"
"Yes."
"And what does your Creator and the others want, exactly, with our world?"
"A place to rebuild without fear of invasion; a home to raise our Families in peace and security; and a sanctuary for our dead, among other things. If you are willing to accept us, my Creator and one of her peers would like to step through the boundary to speak with you and make arrangements."
He looked around, hoping no one would protest as he had already decided to help them in any way they could by the time they were told about the Plague. No one, not even his Heads of House protested. Good, but first…
"Would the Prefects please escort the students back to the dorms immediately, your dinner will be sent to you. Please know that for the moment, it is forbidden to leave your dormitories for any reason. Members of staff, please decide among yourselves who will patrol the castle and grounds. The rest of you may return to your own rooms for some rest."
The shield spells were taken down as students were hustled away and his staff roused themselves to resume their normal routine. More than half decided to return to their rooms, rather than face the strangers who represented a world that seemed like a much darker and distorted version of their own. As soon as the room was mostly empty, he motioned to 'Hagrid' that it was fine to proceed now. He and the remaining teachers watched as it touched the pendant and disappeared in a flash of light only to be replaced by two figures.
One was clearly female, clad in a top that was a tight stretch of cloth over her breasts and a long skirt, topped with steel-toed boots. She was adorned by golden bangles on her right, a leather armband of red and green on her upper left arm, and a collar with what looked like claws attached. Her top left her midriff bare so they could all see the ragged scar which marred it. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and a bulging satchel hung from her shoulder.
Her companion was dressed in simple black robes that buttoned all the way down the left front side and had a high neckline. The only accessories he wore was the leather armband on his upper left arm of blue and gold, a ring with a black stone and a belt slung from shoulder to hip across his chest. His hair was cut at the shoulders and in his hands he held a velvet purse, perhaps filled with some kind of currency.
They were also both so very young to be one of the leaders of the Wizarding world, but it made sense if the children truly outnumbered the adults by such a large number.
"I assume you"—he glanced at the young woman—"are the 'Creator'?"
"Yes. My name is Victoria Granger and this is Antigone Black. We lead the Remnant of Hogwarts." She nodded to her companion, who reached into his purse and pulled out a package. "A token to show our good faith and to ensure a productive business arrangement between our two Clans."
Dumbledore moved forward to take the package and examined it. It was neatly wrapped in brown paper and twine. He un-wrapped it to find a book entitled Hogwarts Book of Names, the very book in the Deputy Headmistress' office which listed all the muggleborns, half-bloods, and purebloods set down since their birth to attend the school. "I admit I'm somewhat confused; we already have a similar book. I'm not sure we really need this, though I thank you for your gift."
He watched as a familiar smirk graced the young Malfoy boy, for even though he referred to himself as 'Black', his features were so clearly of Malfoy blood; it was like staring into the face of a younger Lucius Malfoy, himself. In fact, he may very well be Lucius' son in their reality.
"Oh, we know. But this is a modified version of the book, which not only follows its original instructions but is also designed to note down those who are orphaned or living in 'dangerous' circumstances, such as those being abused, homeless, near death, and so on, and sends out an alert to the nearest school official. We would have added a secondary function as a fail-safe to alert a ministry official but we were unsure as to the competency or nature of the Ministry."
His smirk twisted into a facsimile of a smile, as grim and sharp as any Goblin's own 'smile'. "We would not have been able to save as many of the children as we have without it. You would do well to accept it and use it."
Dumbledore held the book more securely in his arms, now that he had realized it was much more than a mere 'token'. "I didn't realize….Well. Thank you. This is an unbelievably thoughtful gift." He paused. "However, I hope you both realize that I am simply the Headmaster of this school. If you were hoping that I would use this information to somehow improve the conditions of such students…I'm afraid that that is a matter for the Ministry to resolve, ultimately. It would be well beyond my authority to do what is rightfully their responsibility. The most I can do is simply to pass the information along to the respective agencies."
He smiled apologetically; hoping they'd understand but was quite startled by the twin looks of contempt directed his way.
"Do not take us for fools, Headmaster Dumbledore. We know well your sphere of influence extends beyond this school, as we suspect that as in our world, you are Chief Mugwump of the Wizemagot and the Head of a certain Order?" Granger said, placing a slight emphasis on the word 'Order' and leaving no doubt as to what she was referring to.
"You have not only the resources and the wealth but the influence to take such children into 'protective custody' and ensure that they will have a safe if not happy childhood. Some will not even survive into their eleventh year without intervention. I'm sure you can think of at least one child that might have benefited from being placed in a different environment, not having to deal with being harassed simply for who and what he or she is. So please, don't give me this bollocks about it not being your responsibility."
Members of his staff gasped in shock at Miss Granger's gall and Minerva was quick to scold her, regardless of the fact that she was a complete stranger and had no authority over as she was not of her students, past or present, with a simple and to-the-point bark of: "Language!"
Black snickered. "I love it when you're angry, you know? It's always so amusing to see some 'powerful' wizard's ego deflate right in front of my eyes." But soon Dumbledore was looking at a solemn face, where only hints of his previous humor remained. "We expect you to use this as it is meant to be used, otherwise hand it over to someone who will."
He cleared his throat. "Ah, yes…If you will please follow me to somewhere where we may speak more privately? I assume there are some sensitive matters that must be discussed before arrangements can be made." Granger and Black agreed and followed sedately behind. "I hope you don't mind if I invite my Deputy Headmistress to attend as well? And a few members of my staff?" Hearing no protest, he continued.
"Minerva, Petunia, Sirius will you follow me? The rest of you can return to your rooms, rest assured I will let you know what has been discussed in a staff meeting later on. Oh, and Professor Vector? Please send someone to fetch Professor Riddle."
'I think his presence will help explain some things in greater detail that our guests may be hesitant to speak about.'
He felt more than saw them tense at the name 'Riddle'. Clearly Riddle played an important part in their world, most likely in their war, and he suspected if his presence here at Hogwarts as the Professor of Defense against the Dark Arts was such a surprise that perhaps their Riddle had fallen to the darkness as the headmaster had once feared.
He, Professor Minerva, Sirius, Petunia, Granger and Black all entered the chambers off to the side of the Great Hall behind the head table. He conjured several chairs and a long table to seat them all comfortably.
He raised his eyes in both respect and astonishment as both Granger and Black worked together to cast several high-level privacy charms, not to mention a couple of spells with quite the harsh consequences for any attempting to break through the privacy charms or enter unannounced. Astoundingly, they were in complete synchronization; neither getting in the other's way nor mispronouncing a single word.
"Satisfied?" He asked, sitting at the head of the table with Minerva to his right, followed by Sirius and Petunia to his left with a seat open next to her for Riddle. Granger and Black sat right across from him, moving their chairs very close to each other with nary a breath between them.
"More satisfied than not; we have only cast the minimum amount of spells necessary to ensure protection and secrecy. You might find our ways somewhat daunting, but in our world it was and is necessary for the goal of survival. We have only given you a brief summary about the situation. There are more dangers than we spoke of."
With that, she took several packets of muggle paper and passed them down to the others. "In those packets are further details about the War, the Aftermath and a basic outline of the state of the Wizarding world. Who were the main leaders of both sides, their causes and some notable figures; a basic timeline of events, not entirely chronological; who was the victor; who's dead and who's survived; who leads what Remnant and so on."
Then she sat back and promptly began a conversation about logistics and supply with her companion that quickly went over his head, as the house elves usually worried about such things.
In the meantime, he and the others made themselves comfortable, eager to read the packets and too curious to wait for Riddle, not knowing that they would soon come to regret their curiosity.
By the end, he was barely able to stomach the thought of the cost of their War, the sacrifices made, the actions the Light side took to ensure victory, which went a bit too far into the nebulous area of Grey for his liking or comfort.
He was utterly horrified by what his counterpart's precious Order had become and the heavy losses the 'Light' side had sustained, most especially of his strongest supporters—the Weasleys. According to this, their family has been one of the hardest hit by the War, perhaps because they were such good friends and allies of his, not to mention a notorious Light family and quite prolific as well. By the end of it he was sickened, disgusted, horrified, shocked and could not believe that these two young people had survived the world they came from; much less were able to rebuild anything from its tainted ashes.
'They were so young! Far too young…'
It was at this very moment, as they were all reeling from what they had learned—they really had only been given the briefest of summaries—that their Professor of Defense against the Dark Arts entered the room.