Chapter Text
Cordelia was having a good day. She’d gotten into the flow of working with the team finally, making coffees, cappuccinos and hot cocoa without delay. Shauna gave her an extra marshmallow after the lunch rush with her pistachio milk latte as a congratulations and best of all, the Christmas rush was finally over!
‘Iced tea for Leah!’ She called out in a pleasantly exhausted manner, feeling the last of her adrenaline ebb away as a classic blonde in Ugg’s came up to the counter, StarkPhone in hand. She took the cool drink with nary a smile Cordelia’s way, practically running out the doors. Oh well, thought Cordelia, disgruntled. Her roots needed done, anyway.
‘Wipe down counters, C,’ said Shauna, tossing her the washcloth and spray. Cordelia got right to it, sliding past Jordan at the toaster-oven to get around the countertop. Soon enough, she was spraying away with the anti-bac, wiping away circular stains and stray crumbs.
It was a menial job, but it needed done and it was a lot safer than working with the expresso machine. Cordelia could people watch without being obvious about, too.
There’s Rob, she clocked him at the window on a laptop wearing brand Nikes, a regular sit-in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He was most likely to get a plastic tub of granola and strawberry yoghurt with his americano and on days they didn’t have any, a toasted croissant with ham and cheese. Beside him was Martin—a woman who only used her last name and refused to use anything other than a takeaway mug, despite the fact that she sat down even more often than Rob. Today, she was reading the newspaper, the one with the article about the crap going down in Washington.
The high schoolers will be around soon, Cordelia thought as her gaze drifted off towards the door, wondering when kids started coming to coffee bistros. Probably when we started doing milkshakes.
Then there were the randoms—the folks who come in once and then are never seen again. Cordelia noticed one come in as she cleared up a trays worth of mugs and sugar packets, squinting at the menu board and pushing her thick tortoiseshell glasses closer to her face to see better. Inconspicuously, Cordelia looked the other girl up and down, wondering if she was into 90s glam. Her pink dress was cut like something out of Charmed and almost sheer, patterned with faded cherries and clashing with her bright copper hair. Only her jean jacket made it seem remotely fashionable, but it was all ruined by the scale boots. The green shimmered.
For a random customer, she was certainly an eyesore of one.
Not that I can talk, wearing this, Cordelia thought glumly, glancing down at her baggy black uniform. The apron made it bearable. Still, though…
‘Hi,’ the random then said, voice echoing through the practically empty bistro. ‘Could I get a tall hot chocolate, please?’
British?
Cordelia—and all her co-workers—paid more attention to the woman as Jordan went through the motions, which were quickly put off-track onto a more explanatory vein as he told her how it all worked. Luckily, Jordan made a point of telling her about the different milk types before she could ask about them, too. Cordelia could see her frowning at the jugs.
‘Could I try the almond milk?’
‘Sure. That’ll be five seventy-five. Who’s it for?’
The girl made a face, which wasn’t as unusual as people thought it was for first-timers to coffee bistros like theirs. ‘Hally. Just Hally, thanks.’
‘One tall almond milk hot chocolate for Just Hally,’ Jordan nodded with a grin, scribbling it down in black sharpie on her cup. As she twisted to take out her wallet, Cordelia saw a dark green shape on her neck like a bruise and immediately put her head down. I’m not getting involved in anyone’s love-life.
Cordelia got back to wiping down tables. Soon enough, she finished, popping back behind the counter just as she accepted her finished drink. ‘Just Hally’ went and sat in the farthest corner, letting her drink cool with the lid off as she slid out the newest model of StarkPhone—still in its box—onto the table. She seemed confused as she undid the packaging, showing off a sheet-like pane of glass containing the most advanced tech on the market, but while Cordelia felt a brief surge of jealousy over the expensive item, the waitress soon got distracted cleaning the expresso machine.
The next time she looked up, the girl was gone, her table cleared of any rubbish from her new purchase. Cordelia prodded Jordan in the back, whispering with a grin, ‘Why would someone who could buy the new StarkPhone wear weird clothes?’
‘Rich people are freaks,’ Jordan immediately replied with a grin of his own, before a small horde of high schoolers burst through the doors. The grin became less genuine at the sight, before he muttered, ‘Showtime.’
Cordelia rolled her shoulders and stepped up to the till, customer service smile already in place. The girl was long forgotten by the time her shift ended, only to be abruptly recalled again as she saw another New Yorker pass by in high heeled leather boots, just outside the store window.
‘Weirdo,’ she muttered, thinking of Just Hally and her green scale boots. Cordelia would probably never see her again.
Three days later, she was proven very, very wrong.
BLACK WIDOW FOUND DEAD IN MANHATTAN!
It was Just Hally on the front page.
‘She’s got my hair.’
James leant over his wife’s shoulders, making faces at the newborn in the Department of Mysteries bassinet. Why the Department of Mysteries had a baby bassinet to hand, James had no idea—probably for situations like these, he supposed.
‘Easier to pull off, I suppose. We’ve got maybe two hours before I have to announce the Potter’s have an heir to the Wizengamot.’
Lily elbowed him roughly, waiting for him to stop coughing to reply, ‘We don’t have to do this. Who would believe us, anyway? How will Sirius and April take knowing we supposedly kept an entire pregnancy from them?’
In the corner of the room, the hooded Unspeakable coughed delicately. ‘My team is on standby to make the necessary…changes.’ The way they said changes told James they meant the memory kind, which didn’t sit well with him. Even just the idea of memory-charming his friends made his stomach squirm uncomfortably.
‘I want a kid,’ he admitted, almost whispering. Lily’s nose twitched, telling him all she thought about the idea. Within moments, he was trying to convince her and he didn’t even know why. ‘At least this way, you don’t have to actually get pregnant! One whole kid for the price of tricking our friends!’
‘We’re barely twenty, practically kids ourselves,’ said Lily, except she made yet another face, the kind that meant I really want to trick our friends. People always thought Lily was some kind of delicate flower, but James uncovered the truth in their seventh year of Hogwarts—if there was one thing Lily loved, it was getting one-over on her friends. Very few people could ever claim to be more important than Lily’s egomania.
If James was lucky, Lily might even turn that overprotective zeal onto their newly adopted child.
Firm in the knowledge that Lily wouldn’t resent him for it, James turned to the Unspeakable and said, ‘She’s ours. We agree to your terms.’
‘Excellent,’ they said. ‘Would you like us to inform your associates of her new name?’
‘Uh.’ James immediately drew a blank, but Lily—precious Lily, fiery Lily, always wants to get one-over on her friends Lily—came to his rescue.
‘Lily Hallen,’ she said, triumphant in her glory, ‘the Second.’
‘That’s not how it works,’ James tried to argue, but his wife had already picked up their new daughter and the image of them together made his heart turn to goo.
‘Yes, it does,’ she told him.
‘Yes, it does,’ he agreed, before glancing back at the Unspeakable to repeat, ‘Lily Hallen Potter the Second.’
The Unspeakable didn’t seem amused or judging, because neither James nor Lily could see their expressions beneath their cloak, but when they finished speaking, they created a tiny paper aeroplane with their wand which sailed off into the depths of the department. When it disappeared into the gloom, they produced the contract Lily and James agreed to sign.
‘Due to the nature of the agreement,’ they said, ‘you cannot have your lawyers read these papers. You acknowledged this before you entered the Department of Mysteries and waived your rights prior to arrival.’
‘Yes,’ nodded James, glancing back at his wife, Lily, and their new baby, Lily. That would get old very quickly.
‘To summarise the contents of these papers, they bind your knowledge of what you have learnt within the Department of Mysteries, including everything regarding the newly-named Lily Potter Junior. You will not, in any way, be able to discuss what you have learnt here with anyone but yourselves and other employees who already know.’ They stressed the last sentence, imparting the seriousness of their choice. Grimly, James nodded along, only for Lily to query the worker.
‘Will I get permission to study her arrival through the Veil under my consultant contract with the Department, or will we have to cede rights as her parents to a different Unspeakable?’
The line of his shoulders broadened, briefly, as Lily spoke of her work with the Department of Mysteries. Already, James could feel a faint buzz along his thoughts, warping what he’d heard as the tension in his back increased. James had learnt the hard way alongside Sirius when they eavesdropped on Cassiopeia Black, just how Unspeakables kept their knowledge safe. Even as Lily and the Unspeakable discussed her contract and how it intersected with the one they were about to sign, he felt a migraine brewing, a loud whine growing in intensity inside his head that made his eardrums feel fit to burst.
‘Stop,’ he eventually muttered, shutting his eyes and placing his hand to his head, a useless gesture meant to stem the pain of his migraine. Immediately, Lily cursed under her breath and grumbled about stupid defences, demanding the contact. It took a long time for the loud whining and the migraine to fade, but when it was gone, it was fully vanished. James happily accepted the warm bundle Lily passed over to him, when she went to sign her altered work contract.
The blood quill itched when he signed his own, but once it was done, the Unspeakable produced a much more familiar document: one he would be handing to the Wizengamot clerk to file away into the depths of the Ministry Archives less than two hours from now.
‘Anything else we need to know?’ James asked, eager to be off. He was still over the moon at becoming a parent so quickly—a parent! He had a child!—and the shine didn’t feel like it would wear off for a long time, yet.
‘The only relevant thing you need to be aware of, now you’ve signed, is that we anchored her here for security purposes,’ the Unspeakable explained, as Lily tucked the birth certificate into his robe pocket. ‘As an alien to this world, she wasn’t tethered automatically to the magical core of the planet. We artificially bonded her and now that you’ve claimed her as your dependant, that bond should naturally shift soon enough to filter through yourselves. Magical inheritances from either bloodline, keys tied to family lines, etcetera, should all transfer soon enough. This may or may not include the ability to wield magic itself.’
What was James saying about the shine of it all? Ah, yes. That vanished immediately.
‘She might not have magic?’ He exclaimed, stricken.
‘If she forms a magical core, it’s certainly possible,’ said the Unspeakable, ‘but whether she’ll be a wand-wielding magical or not will remain to be seen. Unlike her peers, she hasn’t had nine months to soak in the sights, as it were.’ If James had the capability right then, he would have been angry at the sarcasm lacing their voice there at the end. But the Unspeakable ultimately shook their head. ‘All she needs is time. Give her it—you might be surprised, in the end.’
‘I’ll monitor her progress,’ said Lily, with an edge to her voice that said I’ll do it, whether you like it or not. The existence of it soothed a part of James in a way that Sirius would laugh at—there was a reason he didn’t tell his brother about his sex life, after all.
Curling his arms tighter around his new daughter, James peered down at her slack face, absorbing every last curve and wrinkle, every last strand of hair and eyelash. He didn’t know babies could have so many eyelashes.
Your mum called you Lily Hallen, he thought, my precious baby. My little Hally. I hope you grow up to be as strong-willed as your mother and as beautiful as her, too. For the briefest of moments, he wondered about her birth parents, whether they missed her or not, before tidying all those thoughts away into the corner of his mind to think about another time. Hally was his, now. Theirs.
I love you already. I love you to the ends of the universe and beyond. James kissed her forehead, feeling the impossibly soft warmth beneath his chapped lips. We’ll do just fine, he thought. Lily, standing closer, slipped her arm around his waist and propped her head up on his shoulder to look at her, too.
Yes.
They’d do just fine.
The nature of Hally Potter’s life was one for storybooks. Her parents may have loved her, but they died too soon and left her in the care of people too hurt and suspicious to ever care for her too deeply. Her aunt, Petunia Dursley, might have once felt an ember of love that smouldered on for some years, but it cooled eventually and when the two finally parted one muggy summer evening, neither looked back on their lives together with fondness.
Hally Potter faced other monsters. She faced murderers, Dark Lords and creatures beyond true imagining. She became a powerful witch in her own right and proved her worth time and time again, until the fateful day came where Lord Voldemort summoned her into the dark forest surrounding Hogwarts. She held the Ring of Resurrection and called out to shades of the dead who she’d so often been compared to, despite the lack of blood relation.
Albus Dumbledore did always wonder why the wards were so weak.
Where they once were carbon copies of each other, where childhood friends saw Hally Potter at eleven and thirteen and didn’t know where Lily began or ended, now they stood nearly as equals—and the discrepancies were fierce. Lily had hair like fire and eyes like jewels, but Hally was as copper-haired as any Weasley and her eyes could be described as murky sea-green, rather than emerald.
‘If you survive tonight, you will come back changed,’ her father told her. Hally, desperate to see herself in the people she lost, searched for any sign she was related to him at all. It was only coincidence their smiles were the same. Sombre and afraid of what could be, he reached out a ghostly hand and held it close to her cheek. He could not touch her, so he did not try.
‘How could I come back?’ She asked him, choked and bitter. ‘I’m going to die. Dumbledore knew it had to happen.’
‘Your mother would be better off explaining,’ said James, before blowing her a kiss and stepping back to join his friends, Hally’s old professor and parted dogfather at his side. Beside them, it just became ever clearer how young he was when he died.
Hally turned to her mother. ‘Mum?’ she whispered.
‘The tether will break,’ Lily hissed and the anger in her voice startled Hally. Her eyes widened in shock at the furore her mother emitted. ‘I was bound by oath in life not to say a single thing about my work to outsiders and now I regret ever spinning my web around them all. I made a mistake. They could never tell you without my permission where you came from—what you were, really.’
‘What?’ Hally breathed, but Lily spoke over her.
‘The Veil of Death is one-way to wizards,’ she said, ‘because they are attached to this dimension with a magical umbilical cord. Wizards who go through die, because their physical form is shunted through the walls between worlds into another—and their souls cannot follow. But you’re different, Hally. Everything that has ever come through the Veil from the other side has been able to live and grow, so long as it was alive to begin with.’
Her anger faded, replaced with certainty. Lily Evans looked Hally Potter in the eye and told her the truth.
‘When Voldemort destroys his horcrux, he’ll destroy any and all tethers you have to this dimension. That’s how the killing curse works. How it’s always worked. Murder and violent death disrupt the tether and avada kedavra is the very definition. It’s how you get ghosts,’ she described.
‘Mum,’ Hally shook her head, ‘I still don’t understand. What does it all mean? Did- are you trying to say I came through the Veil?’
‘We adopted you the day you arrived,’ said Lily, admitting it freely, ‘and we loved you from that day until now. We always will.’
Hally tried—she tried to understand. ‘So,’ she blubbered, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her face, ‘so, I’ll become a ghost? I’ll just float around, unable to get back into my body?’
‘Your body will be dead,’ Lily cut in. ‘The moment the tether is severed, your body will cease to function ever again. If you’d been born in this world, it would be a different story.’
‘I really don’t understand what’s going on,’ then said Sirius, interrupting, ‘but I have to ask if the Pole Problem is in effect here.’
‘The Pole Problem?’ repeated Lily and Hally, before the ghost of Remus Lupin blanched.
‘It’s a magical phenomenon,’ he said in an agitated hush, eyes darting between his old departed friends in half-fear, half-fury. For a moment, he stared over their shoulders, before looking his pseudo-niece in the eye. ‘Like a rubber band, Hally. Portkeys take advantage of it, using an anchor until the keyphrase releases it, returning the portkey to the original destination.’
‘What he’s trying to say,’ Sirius interrupted again, while Lily and James began to freeze in horror. ‘If you belong in another dimension, when you finally lose the connection anchoring you to your body, you could be flung all the way back to your point of origin. So, I have to ask—Lily. Is the Pole Problem in effect?’
All eyes swung to Lily, who looked so very, very young, then. She looked at her daughter with confused apology. Hally put a hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs.
‘So- so not only am I going to become a ghost,’ she said brokenly, heaving a gasp, ‘but I’m going to be a ghost in a different universe? Will anyone be able to see me at all?’ Because if there was one thing she knew about ghosts, it was that muggles couldn’t see them.
The quiet that overtook the glade was not happy. Nor was it peaceful. In fact, it took almost too long for Hally to come to terms with things. War had made her efficient, but she was still a teenager and so much information to absorb so as to adjust her world-view took time.
But some things are meant to happen.
She was only two minutes late to her own death.
When Hally Potter faced oblivion…there was no train station. No Albus Dumbledore to give her that one piece of information that would have proved she truly reached the afterlife and talked with her dearly beloved, late headmaster.
What there was, instead, was a bright kaleidoscope of colour as Hally traversed between dimensions at faster than light speed. It burned her eyes and so, she closed them, right before crash-landing in a deep crater full of snow that ultimately, did little to soften her landing.
Sprawled out on a white landscape, Hally was a dot of colour in an otherwise endlessly white world, floating in and out of consciousness. The action that truly brought her to alertness was the calm presence of another, wearing long yellow robes and a heavy necklace in the shape of an eye.
‘…where am I? Who are you?’ Hally questioned the figure, realising her glasses were lost moments later as she tried and failed to make out their features. All she could tell was they had no hair at all—and that they were, in fact, see-through. Then Hally realised she was completely naked and gasped, curling her arms around her admittedly small chest, bringing her knees up to hide the apex of her legs. The figure chuckled.
‘You are in a spectral form, young one. Unusual, considering astral projection is usually undetectable. Come, now. I will return you to your body and follow.’
The words filtered through her mind and made Hally remember. ‘I’m dead,’ she said, shocked.
‘No,’ the figure—the woman—disagreed, almost fond. ‘Only astral projecting.’
Hally shook her head, hesitantly standing up in the snow, in a cold she couldn’t really feel, twisting to the side so the woman couldn’t get a good look at her. ‘I’m dead,’ she repeated, hesitantly saying, ‘I’m untethered from my body.’
In moments, the fondness melted away. ‘Explain,’ the woman demanded, her voice calm, yet commanding.
‘It’s a long story—one I’d rather have clothes for,’ Hally said, beginning to feel aggravated. No doubt, Voldemort was already parading her body about in front of all of Hogwarts and Hally forced herself to concentrate on that, on the desecration of her corpse to beat down the morale of the Light Side, to stop herself from thinking of everything else.
She’d just lost her whole world. Her whole dimension.
‘I’m Hally,’ the witch tried, unable to stop the flatness of her voice. ‘If you could help me out here, I’d be grateful.’
The other woman was silent for a time, before finally inclining her head and holding out a hand. ‘I will guide you to Kamar-Taj, the home of my Order.’ After a moment, she added, ‘Do not fear that any other than I shall see you undressed.’
Hally was glad the woman said that last part, because it made it easier for her to accept the whole nude thing as she tentatively stretched out her arm, edging closer. The woman only waited, clasping her hand gently when she was finally in reach. They stood there for a long moment, before the woman began floating backwards, quickly picking up speed—and pulling Hally along for the ride. It was almost like flying, except Hally would much better prefer if she were a) clothed and b) controlling her own flight via broomstick. Preferably, her Firebolt.
Eventually, however, after the world stopped blurring by, they stopped in an Eastern-style building located in a busy city, where the woman led her into a private tea room that her body sat in, eyes closed. The woman returned to her body once she let go of Hally’s hands, opening her eyes and gesturing for Hally to sit opposite her.
‘I apologise for not knowing how to offer spectres garments. It is a rather unusual situation—probably caused by a lack of tethering to keep your soul from proverbially colouring your spectral form,’ she said, before finally introducing herself. ‘I am known as the Ancient One, Master of the Mystic Arts and Sorcerer Supreme.’
Hally, despite everything, couldn’t help the bubble of laughter from escaping her throat. After all she’d been through, she’d found another Dumbledore, ready to give her advice and help where needed—while also being appropriately shady and mysterious.
The Ancient One seemed amused by her giggles and Hally forced herself to calm down, introducing herself properly. ‘Hally Potter. Otherwise known as the Girl-Who-Lived, Undesirable Number One and the Chosen One. I’m a witch and was the subject of a prophecy to defeat a Dark Lord, called Voldemort. I died doing it.’
‘And how did you end up untethered, if I may ask?’ The Ancient One queried. ‘Is it usual for witches of your world to end up so post-mortem?’
‘No. I’m a special case,’ she explained, suddenly going quiet and looking at her knees. She didn’t want to think about being adopted or coming from another dimension. She’d have to, eventually, but Hally wanted- no, needed time. Time to come to terms with dying. Time to come to terms with forcefully being removed from everything she ever knew.
The Ancient One hummed understandingly, pouring herself a cup of tea. Unable to feel changes in temperature, Hally doubted she could have her own heated cup, but she yearned for one, anyway.
After a long time in silence, the Ancient One eventually asked her another question.
‘This is not your home dimension. Knowing you are untethered, I may still be able to help you return, regardless. Is this something you would wish?’
Hally sucked in a breath, wishing furiously. She did. Yes. So much. But then she remembered the Pole Problem and explained as such to the Ancient One, who frowned heavily and nodded again in understanding.
‘What belongs to one dimension will forever attempt to return to it. In your vulnerable state, it would be especially difficult to keep yet another tether in place.’
‘Because I don’t have a body?’
‘That,’ the Ancient One inclines her head, ‘but also because reality has will. It wants to keep you in your proper place and now you have returned, it will try very hard not to let you go again. While having a physical body would no doubt be a great boon in this endeavour, should you return, you may find you have trouble accidentally slipping between different dimensions as this dimension calls you home. A secondary anchor would be required.’
What Hally was hearing was that it was, if not impossible, increasingly difficult to get her back home to her Earth and her Hogwarts on a permanent basis.
‘Well,’ she mumbled, ‘at least you still speak English in this dimension. Imagine if you didn’t?’
Again, the Ancient One became amused. ‘Quite a coincidence, yes. You come from a variant Earth, I suppose. Considering what you have so far disclosed, I can make several guesses as to which one, too.’ Then, appallingly, she looked at Hally’s scar. It was as if the world was suddenly flipped on its end.
‘No way,’ Hally said then, fearing the worst—though she didn’t know what that really was. ‘You know about me?’
The Ancient One chuckled under her breath and oh yes, Hally could see the resemblance to Dumbledore. Damn it, she whined to herself privately, in the privacy of her own head.
‘You will find, Miss Potter, that stories have a way of spreading to even the farthest reaches of the universe—or in this case, dimensions.’ Finishing her tea, the Ancient One stood and bowed her head in a small measure of respect. Hally slowly stood and joined her. ‘I shall endeavour to find a solution to your unique problem, but I’m afraid that many sorcerers in the Order will be able to see your astral form.’
Cringing, Hally asked, ‘Is there somewhere I can stay without getting stared at?’
‘I’ll have a room set aside from you in one of the emptier wings of the complex,’ the Ancient One promised, smiling. ‘Don’t despair, Hally. You’ll find the world is still accessible to you, even in astral form.’
Hally glanced back at the tea. ‘Not food or drink, though.’
‘No,’ she agreed, ‘but we have a vast library and a new dimension’s magic for you to harness. I suspect it shall keep you as busy as you want it to. And those whom you may come to trust might eventually join you in the astral plane, so do not fear a loss of touch from others, either.’
A surge of gratitude exploded out of her. The outpouring of feeling, coupled with the events of the last year, caused poor Hally to burst into tears. The Ancient One seemed thrown, but then she offered her hand, a faint astral version causing a double image over the top. Hally took her hand, squeezing tight.
‘Thank-you,’ she sobbed. ‘Thank-you.’
Hally didn’t even know what she was thanking her for.
‘It’s no problem, Miss Potter,’ said the Ancient One. ‘No problem at all.’