Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Before I start with my latest story, I KNOW that many stories like this have been done before, but I have many ideas, factors and plot twists to make it different. So don't worry, I promise this story will be very interesting and worth the read.

My main character is FEM! Harry; DARK FEM! Harry but NOT evil; SMART FEM! Harry & CUNNING!

Warning: Just to inform my readers so that I don't get complaints in the Reviews; this story will be Dark; there will be mentioning of torture, rape (although not in details ONLY TRIGGER), and some dark thoughts.

**Bold Italic**:: **Flashbacks.**

Chapter 1: Destiny of Time:

Silence blanketed the air; not one of tranquility and serenity, but an eerie, all-encompassing one, laced in hopelessness, tainted in despair, and enwreathed with devastation.

If one decided to take a stroll along the once majestic castle – an ancient stronghold that used to be Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, built by four of the most powerful, brilliant and famous witches and wizards eons ago, with the sole purpose of providing safety from outside forces with evil intent, and nurturing young minds, educating generations of children in their heritage – one wouldn't recognize it at all. One would find more cheer in a graveyard if they happened to stumble upon the once majestic castle that was a renowned safe haven and home, a fortress, to the wizarding populace.

In a graveyard, the dead were put to rest; they were grieved, mourned, respected and visited by their loved ones. One would set flowers and knickknacks by their graves, were prayed to… spoken to every odd day.

Hogwarts however, was a battlefield.

An epic battle commenced on May 2nd, 1998, spontaneously engineered by the Chosen One and an inspiration to many, and the Darkest Lord ever known, a megalomaniac wizard who went by the moniker of Lord Voldemort. The Chosen One was prophesized to defeat him once and for all, and ever since the age of one, never knew or experienced peace.

The insane crusade of a mad wizard with a superiority complex was terminated and Lord Voldemort was defeated once and for all on May 3rd, 1998. Unfortunately, there were no celebrations, no revelry to toast the victorious side of the Light, no laughter and cheer, no dancing and merrymaking. Loved ones didn't reconvene in the land of the living and speeches weren't made depicting the many years to come now that they were free from an evil dictatorship where the next generations of witches and wizards would be able to flourish, live, love and learn, building a better, united, and serene future.

In the midst of the destruction, a lone figure could be seen strolling desolately along the remains of the once majestic castle, attempting to recall what once used to be their safe haven and home – to no avail.

The battlefield – because Hogwarts could no longer be labeled as the impressive fortress it once was; the battlefield lay quiet, no sound but for the discreet and cautious footfalls of the lone figure, trying not to accidentally step on a loved one or a brave soul that had lost their lives in the previous battle, for it was now a graveyard of the unburied. Corpses lay among the broken dilapidated ruins, tossed carelessly like dolls, faces frozen in their last moments, eyes unseeing and mouths gaping; there was not even a single corpse to have died portraying a serene visage.

The sun was beginning to rise as the lone figure resolutely made their way onwards, wishing to pay respect to each fallen valor who died as a warrior. There were no fathers, mothers, brothers or sisters waiting in vain for their loved ones to return from the epic battle that decided the future of Britain, for they had all fallen, lying scattered from each other in the wrecked, ramshackle ruins of the castle.

These people were once children who played in the gardens, reveled in their first broomstick, expressed joy at receiving their acceptance letter upon their eleventh birthday; the fallen warriors who succeeded in attaining adulthood and starting families cheered at the first signs of accidental magic displayed by their offspring, worked diligently to achieve tuition money to send them off to a reputable magical institution, prayed and awaited and whinged for grandchildren. Every single fallen warrior laughed at each other's silly tales, recalled their past in Hogwarts and passed on stories to their young ones … their eyes were as immobile as their limbs; their souls had long departed to the celestial plane to walk among their ancestors and reunite with their lost loved ones that perished too early in the two pointless wars that created havoc and demolished the nation.

The lone figure's eyes closed in remembrance, numb legs slowly folding into a kneeling position in front of a heart-wrenchingly familiar corpse, a fallen who staunchly remained by their side through thick and thin until their dying breath; yes, they all fought to their last breath, fighting for a better future, and in the hopes that their death would make a difference.

The bitter wind swept by the lone figure, tousling their hair to the side; it was all for naught. Everyone was dead; there was nobody left to rejoice and live for what they fought. None of them would be able to enjoy the peaceful life they helped create.

The earth… the wooden stone and the grass were plastered with red. Crimson was viciously painted all around from the corpses to the ground and on the lone figure's person.

It was unbearable, so agonizingly excruciating, and the lone figure felt grief grip their heart and…she ran.

She ran seeking solace in the one room she had yet to visit, hoping to hear the smooth, grandfatherly voice that always managed to assuage the heavy burden that constantly weighed on her soul. No password was required as she stormed through the gargoyle and darted the stairs two at a time before barging through the door, eyes taking in the décor of the familiar room she had spent most of her last year in. The room that always, without fail, engulfed her in feelings of safety and undying love.

It was the only room untouched by the final battle; the only room that was so painstakingly the same and hadn't reduced to shambles. Looking up, hollowed and deadened eyes that only knew pain, that only saw death, met oh so familiar eyes staring back at her with solemn grief. Soft blue eyes that usually twinkled with mirth and joy, looked at her with love, pity and sadness… and pride, but she felt it was misplaced.

"Oh, my dear girl. I am so, so sorry," the grandfatherly voice that she missed dearly whispered, and finally, the dam broke and tears began to fall. Her tear ducts began working again and she collapsed onto the floor on her knees and cried her ruined heart out. Although she felt betrayed and angry with the old man not long ago, she instantly forgave him when she stared death in the face, welcomed it and then conquered, and she needed him more than anything right now. She needed him to tell her that everything would be okay. This man never failed to give her hope, hope for a better future, and yet now… such a probability seemed glaringly improbable.

"Dumbledore, they're all g-g-gone! …Dead! No one survived. No one but me," she cried out, pulling on her crimson locks in frantic agony.

"Wipe away those tears my child and come closer," Albus Dumbledore spoke softly from his majestic portrait that hung reverently in the Headmaster's office.

But she paid no heed, lost deep in despair. "I am cursed. Cursed to always roam the world alone, cursed to always witness my loved ones die for my sake, and cursed to never know happiness! I am cursed to a life of solitude and despair," the last words were articulated in a forlorn whisper, and Albus knew that she had lost all hope… and losing hope was a dangerous thing, for it meant that one would lose the will to live and he could not have that happen to the toddler he watched grow into an admirable woman, the girl he loved and cherished as a granddaughter.

"Scarlett Sage Potter, you listen to me and you listen now! Hope is not lost; if you have something to fight for, then hope can be found in the most obvious of places. Remember, Scarlett, remember… happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light," Albus said mysteriously, and once again Scar found herself staring at the familiar twinkle of the Headmaster she yearned to see ever since she witnessed his death at the Astronomy Tower, a twinkle she never thought she'd be able to see ever again … at least not while she still lived.

Finally, Scar managed to get up and walk lifelessly to her mentor's portrait, "You know something. Tell me."

"My dear child, already so much has been asked from you, ever since you began developing in your mother's womb. I hate to burden you with more, but-"

"If I can change this outcome, if I could fix this, change the fates of everyone, I would. I will do anything. Tell me!" Scar hissed, once again, the familiar heavy weight dropped onto her shoulders. It was almost like another limb to her, for Scarlett Sage Potter knew in her heart, mind and soul, ever since discovering the meaning behind that curiously shaped lightning-bolt scar on her forehead, that she would never know peace – only burden, sorrow, pain, hardships and leadership.

Albus' eyes glittered with hope and sorrow, pride and grief, yet he inhaled a shaky breath before exhaling loudly and in a sorrowful tone, spoke, "When I donned that cursed ring that claimed my life, when Severus healed me and succeeded in postponing my death for a year, I began looking into more than just Tom's Horcruxes. I tenaciously searched for a second chance, a back-up plan if you will. Hidden in my safe, untouched by any but I, is a second chance, Scar. I began delving into obscure magic… time travel. Time travel that differs greatly from your past experience with Miss Granger… no, this means of time travel will take you decades back instead of mere hours."

Shocked, flabbergasted, Scar's limbs began weakening and she sagged heavily into the empty chair she claimed as her own during all the time spent discussing the war and her fate with her old mentor. Her mind was whirring with all the possibilities, but before hope could grip her shattered heart, she met the wizened Headmaster's gaze, "And…? Did you succeed?"

Under the direly grave circumstances, his pale lips managed to curl into a smile, "Why, my dear Scar, have you already lost faith in my abilities? I would not have mentioned it to you if I failed. Go open my safe, the password is your birthdate, and withdraw all its contents."

Cautiously approaching the safe, Scar summoned her trusty wand from her wand-holster and activated the password. The safe's interior resembled a goldmine, and the Chosen One reverently gathered them all, emptying the safe completely before laying them on the Headmaster's desk and shooting him a curious glance; there were many potion vials filled to the brim, its contents looking severely disturbing and illegal, books, parchments, and a sack filled with ingredients.

"Two potions are already made, illegally if I might add. However, the most important potion of all should be concocted by the person meant to imbibe it and that is what the sack of ingredients is for." Scarlett once again made herself comfortable on her previously vacated seat and concentrated her full attention on her mentor's next words. "The potion you shall be creating has never been made before, Scarlett, and I urge you to take extreme caution and listen closely, for the consequences of inattention shall be astronomically dire."

Clearing his throat, the deceased Headmaster expounded the cryptic potion, "Eons ago, after Merlin graduated from Hogwarts, he began looking into traveling through time. He was a curious lad, and found the theory of jumping through time quite phenomenal. On his dying days, he succeeded, yet he was unfortunate to never have the chance to test his creation and so, he wrote down the formula in his diary and I am proud to say that I located it during my many leaves in your sixth year. The potion was named by Merlin himself: 'Destiny of Time' and he wrote that the fortunate soul who succeeds in concocting and imbibing the potion correctly and triumphantly with selfless means to make a better future shall be bequeathed his heir and, their destiny shall change upon their triumphs in jumping through time."

Taking a deep breath, Albus spared her a prideful yet knowing look, "I believe you shall be able to conquer such a feat, my dear Scar. However, we arrive at a stalemate since it has never been tested before and the potion is quite complex; it must be imbibed during a full moon which is a week from today."

"I'll do it," Scar resolutely spoke up, the determination in her eyes never wavering with the burden and the difficulties that lay ahead. Albus beamed, "My child, of that I had no doubt. …Now, listen closely, the black murky potion was procured from the Black Library and it is meant to suppress and block bloodlines… I believe consuming it would be for the best, that way, when you step into Gringotts to receive your Ladyship rings, your Potter and Black lineage would be concealed deftly from the Goblin's magic."

"I'm sorry, Ladyship rings, as in plural?" Scarlett questioned in confusion.

Albus solemnly sighed, "Yes, Scarlett. I am afraid to inform you of this, but now that you have defeated Tom, you are, in the eyes of Lady Magic and Mother Earth, Lady Slytherin by Right of Conquest, and the title shall travel alongside you to the past, it is already coursing through your very veins as you have yet to lose the valuable gift of Parselmouth."

"But, but-, but Dumbledore! The past is murky, and for one with the lineage of Slytherin-, it won't be safe for me," Scarlett argued. She didn't care a lick about the opinions of the close-minded and prejudiced Light Families that were stuck in their beliefs regarding all Slytherins were inherently evil… with all she had encountered and faced, with all the Death Eaters she had unmasked and fought against, she knew such nonsense to be nothing but bigotry and ceased caring what others thought of her after the accursed Triwizard Tournament.

"As Lady Slytherin, you will have the ability to capture the interest of Death Eaters and those who had yet taken the Mark, Scarlett. You have the chance of not only saving lives, but saving souls, of stopping the misled from swearing fealty to Voldemort. Also, you will be able to capture Tom's attention… it is beneficial for you, my dear. I urge you to bear the Slytherin name."

Nodding hastily, she acquiesced; Dumbledore's words had merit… Not all Death Eaters started out evil with a dark soul, Voldemort made them. Evil was made, not born; except for Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange, and she shall take great pleasure in destroying them when the time came.

"Good. Now the burnt orange colored potion is to make you younger. You shall be traveling to the year of 1976; to your parents sixth year at Hogwarts, before many swore loyalty to Tom and the unfortunate deaths began. You are nearing your eighteenth birthday, and this potion is enough to de-age you to sixteen."

"Is there anything else I must be informed of before I start on the potion?" Scar asked dutifully.

Blue eyes twinkled with pride and love, "Yes. I have catalogued every death that had occurred from the first war, every event and happenstance I could recall; there is a heavily detailed parchment laid out on the table. Keep it safe, and keep it close; it cannot fall into the wrong hands. Secondly, I have taken the time to write my past-self a letter, informing him that you are trustworthy and to listen to you and take every word into consideration." Pausing, his solemn gaze pierced Scar, his following words laced with genuine sorrow, "I do apologize for wronging you my dear girl, and I hope you will trust my past-self to lend you aid. Thirdly, my pensieve, take it with you; all my memories are within and it will aid you immensely in the past. And finally, and Scar, you must pay attention; once you imbibe the potion, there is no going back, you shall erase your existence and live only in the past. Scarlett, if you fail or regrettably, die, there shall be no future Scarlett Potter traveling back, there are no second chances. Alas, you will never have to worry about witnessing your future-self's birth… Destiny of Time assures no other share your destiny; James and Lily Potter shall never give birth to a Scarlett Sage Potter… only one of you can and are allowed to exist."

There was a sudden stillness in the room; but it wasn't the bitter and mournful silence of the battlefield, it was a shocked stupor as Scarlett processed Albus Dumbledore's alarming words of finality. Gulping audibly, she weighed his words and thoughtfully said in a slow manner, "What if I die? Let us say I die before I manage to defeat Voldemort, or alternately, say I die after I manage to defeat Voldemort?"

Albus gasped, a shrewd look flickering in his eyes before the twinkle vanished to be replaced by grief, especially when he took note of the determination in his favored student's ruined eyes. He stared meaningfully at her and spoke in a hush, "Scar- … if you die in the past, then…" Regrettably, he uttered the next words out, knowing Scarlett's decision would not be swayed, "Then yes, you shall be born as you were on July 31st, 1980. But my dear-"

"Don't bother, Dumbledore. You cannot change my mind, the decision is made and I am stubborn. I always dreamed of growing up with my parents in a warm household filled with love and laughter. While I was never given a birthday cake to make a wish in the first decade of my life with the Dursleys, I always made the same wish in the solace of my 'room' for a family. Once I rid Wizarding Britain of Voldemort, it is best I die alongside him and allow my future-self to live the life I never had. The life I've always yearned for," Scarlett said determinedly, tears swimming in her eyes, and she gave him a watery smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Scarlett, please. I beg you to reconsider… James and Lily will be able to procreate many children in the new future, they just won't be you. Merlin's potion is the Destiny of Time; even if you die, there are many possibilities, the off chance that you will not be her is merely guesswork," Dumbledore pleaded desperately, hoping beyond hope that he would manage to alter her mind.

She shook her head adamantly, metaphorically putting her foot down, "The possibility is all I need… even if I fail… I'm tired, Dumbledore. So very tired; my soul is lacking and my heart is black and tarnished… not with evil and malice, but with all the heavy burdens, all the death, pain and torture. I want to save lives and souls; I want to build a better future, just-"

"Just not yours," Albus whispered, saddened eyes devouring the phenomenal witch before him, a pearly tear making its way down and disappearing behind his silvery beard.

"Just not mine," she despondently agreed. "I have already lived a terrible life, I want to rest in peace once I am done with my last mission; a mission worthy of Merlin's successor that would make him proud."

"Good luck, my dear. You have always been a granddaughter to me. I am so, very proud of you."

September 2nd, 1976;

The Great Hall was buzzing like a hive of swarming bees; mutterings, mumblings, hissings, murmurings and whisperings could be heard as the Daily Prophet was distributed with the routinely morning owl post.

On the front page, written in capital bold was the headline:

LADY OF EMRYS & SLYTHERIN EMERGES!

Today morning, dear readers, Gringotts bank was visited by a witch supposedly in her teens. But, nobody has ever seen this witch before in the British Community. She donned a black, hooded cloak and the only distinguishable feature of hers, visible to all, were long locks of crimson hair, vibrant against the black apparel as she confidently sauntered to the till with her head held high.

Eavesdroppers were quick to confide that the witch asked the goblin at the front desk that she wished to claim a Ladyship, and although Goblin Axehook was skeptical, he consented.

It was to the crowd and Goblin Axehook's greatest astonishment when the allotted drops of blood landed onto the parchment and the elegant cursive script formulated; Scarlett Sage Emrys-Slytherin, Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Emrys AND Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin.

There you have it dear readers, two of the oldest and most powerful lineages have been found. Two lineages that have been thought to have died out many centuries ago.

Who is this formidable Lady that appeared out of nowhere? What is her business in Britain? And where has she been for all these years? Why claim her Ladyships now when times are dark?

That is a mystery I will be glad to uncover.

Reporting to you,

Daily Prophet Reporter, Aleena Greengrass.

There was pandemonium in the Great Hall and a multitude of confused and mixed emotions.

The Gryffindors, while curious about the descendant of Merlin, were disgusted by the fact that she was also a descendant of Slytherin. The Hufflepuffs were unsure, and although they were loyal and diligent, feared Lady Emrys-Slytherin to be a dark and powerful opponent. The Ravenclaws were equally interested, desperately wanting to meet Merlin Emrys' descendant yet unbothered mostly by the discovery of her being Slytherin since most were known to be unbiased.

The Slytherins however, were at an impasse between pride and curiosity. The ones who swore allegiance to the Dark Lord were confused with the appearance of the Lady to their house, confused because Lord Voldemort was boasted to be the only successor of the Slytherin line, and many wanted to court this powerful Lady of two equally archaic bloodlines who was said to have died out centuries ago. Nearly every member of the Slytherin House smirked in success at having an obvious Slytherin in their midst.

However, a curious occurrence transpired when the stern and strict Professor McGonagall ambled down the hall looking completely frazzled as she reached the Headmaster's side and leaned in, whispering frantically into his ear. The mass then bore witness to the jovial and usually calm Headmaster's face rapidly pale, the regular twinkle in his soft blue eyes dying out as the utensils dropped from his firm grip, clanging loudly against the golden plate and he jumped out of his seat, hastily exiting from the Great Hall, leaving a worried Deputy Headmistress behind and furious whispers in his wake.

Albus Dumbledore moved along quickly to the gargoyle that protected his office and living quarters to see a hooded figure leaning leisurely against the stone wall, patiently awaiting his arrival. Minerva was correct in her speculation as his eyes pinpointed on the long crimson ringlets cascading down the front of her waist… Lady Emrys-Slytherin had indeed come to Hogwarts.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I do apologize for rudely intruding your breakfast. I know the proper method and decent conduct was to send you an owl asking for a meeting, however time is of the essence that we meet immediately," Lady Emrys-Slytherin spoke, and Albus could not help but smile faintly at her cordial words and her beautiful soprano voice, no matter if it sounded strained and worn-out.

"No matter, my Lady. Follow me." Albus whispered his password and ambled up the stairs and into his office. Once he made himself comfortable in the Headmaster's chair, he beseeched the curious Lady and intruded softly into her mind with Legilimency – only to backtrack in shock when he collided with a metal-proof door guarded by men armed with Muggle ammunition… how curious, he had never before witnessed such a skilled Occlumens before that used such a Muggle technique in occluding their mind… especially not from Lady Emrys-Slytherin, who he had immediately assumed to be a pureblood.

"I am a skilled Occlumens, Headmaster, and I warn you not to intrude on my thoughts again without my express permission. I am a private person, yet you may ask whatever you wish and I shall endeavor to answer to the best of my abilities if I deem them to be fit," she vocalized, and although her answer was polite and amiable, the wizened Headmaster detected disapproval and awareness, almost as though she had expected the action from him… how curious.

"Very well, who are you?"

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Lady Emrys-Slytherin unveiled herself, shedding her cloak and gently tossing it aside, and Albus Dumbledore knew he was the first person to observe her true face ever since she appeared in Magical Britain.

Lady Emrys-Slytherin was… there were no other words to describe her: she was breathtakingly and achingly beautiful. However, Albus could not help but focus on her peculiar irises… the coloring was odd and distinguished her immensely from a myriad of people.

Her skin tone was pale, yet slightly tanned, notifying the wizened wizard that she was amiable with outdoor events; she had a patrician nose with prominently high cheekbones detailing an aristocratic parentage that was assembled in a heart-shaped face. However, the remnant facial features were soft and gentle; her lips were plump and petal-shaped, her bottom lip thicker than her upper one and when she smiled, two dimples appeared indented into her cheeks; she also had a curved chin and a long, swan-like neck that most pureblood witches could never hope to have. Crimson hair, disturbingly equated to blood, framed her face, cascading down to below her waist in ringlets and although he did not have an accurate view on her figure due to the desk separating them, it was clear to him that although she had appropriate curves and a womanly figure, she was gaunt and emaciated.

Many scars were depicted on her person from her bare arms and a few on her face, however the scar that stood out most of all, was a curious lightning-bolt shaped scar that while faint, looked utterly painful, crude and mind-boggling.

But her eyes… those eyes spoke of a tale that the wizened Headmaster was curious to reveal. Emerald green eyes sparkled vividly, standing out immensely, yet they were not whole; surrounded by the emerald coloring was a thick ring of blinding white surrounded by a thin ring of violet. Albus Dumbledore knew that such eye coloring was not hereditary. Dismissing the curious sheen of coloring, he concentrated on the myriad of emotions displayed freely for him to see – haunted and deadened that spoke of misery, pain, suffering and cruelty, and the Headmaster's curiosity had reached its peak.

"My name is Scarlett Sage Emrys-Slytherin," she stated.

Nodding, Albus forced a smile, "How about some tea while we discuss your queries." Without acknowledging an answer, he waved his wand at the teapot's direction and it abruptly sprung to life as the water bubbled, before the teapot levitated in the air and poured a decent amount into two matching teacups. Albus' grip reflexively tightened on his wand when he noted the stranger's strange eyes focused on it with a startling intensity. Clearing his throat in an effort to distract her, he said, "Now, my Lady, what brings your presence at this hour?"

Tearing her eyes from his wand, she squarely met his gaze, "There are many matters of importance we need to discuss. However, I understand trust is limited during these dark times. I will relay to you facts nobody knows of you and I beg you to believe me, because what I have to say is… highly improbable."

Chuckling slightly, Albus nodded his head and waved for her to continue, deciding to humor her for the time being.

"That wand in your hand is the Elder Wand, one of the Deathly Hallows. You won its allegiance during your duel with former lover, Gellert Grindelwald who currently resides locked up at the fortress, Nurmengard," Scarlett spoke coherently, each word ringing ominously in Albus' ears. The Headmaster's normally soft blue eyes hardened and his polite gaze turned into a hostile glare, anger and suspicion the main emotion displayed on his features, but before he could utter a word, Scarlett continued with confident ease, "You blame yourself for the death of your sister Ariana; and to this day, you still don't know which wand is responsible for administering the final blow, be it yours, Gellert's or your brother Aberforth's. Ever since then, you changed the ideology, 'For the Greater Good' and spent your time bettering the Wizarding World and pushing for equality, never stepping up as Minister because you do not want to hold so much power over the masses. Am I correct?"

"H-Ho-How, how do you know? Who are you?" Albus angrily demanded through gritted teeth, eyeing her with suspicion and fury. Every word she uttered, every single word, had been his deepest and darkest secrets. Not even Aberforth, his own brother, knew of his paralyzing guilt and private fears.

"From Aberforth, and… from yourself," Scarlett steadily responded, succeeding in garnering a befuddled gasp and cock of the head from the Leader of the Light. "You see Headmaster, as unbelievable as this sounds, I am not from this time. I was born on the 31st of July, 1980."

"That's four years from now. Impossible," Albus adamantly shook his head, eyes turning icy with anger and suspicion, an emotion Scarlett only witnessed during her fifth year when he dueled Voldemort in the Ministry's Atrium.

Wordlessly, Scarlett retrieved an envelope from her person and slid it across the desk to the suspicious Headmaster, who immediately tore it open and unfolded the parchment, eyes widening with every jotted word. Finally, his eyes connected with hers, "It is written in my handwriting with my signature toward the end…"

"You prepared that letter before your untimely and unfortunate death," and the aging Headmaster heard the pain and sorrow laced in her voice; even if he hadn't read the letter, it was glaringly obvious that this girl cared deeply for him in the future.

"My future-self advised me to trust you and to believe every word you say; that you would never lead me astray, amongst other things. Tell me, what was our relation in the future?" Albus curiously asked, because although he had his favorites, he never allowed himself to get close with his students until after they had graduated.

A sad smile overtook her features, "You were my mentor, my idol and a beloved grandfather to me. Although at the end I felt betrayed by your actions toward me, I never stopped believing in you and loving you."

"But why? I never allow myself to build relations with my students until after graduation," he insisted.

"I will inform you, however, before I do, I must stress my reasoning for being here. The future is very grim-"

Albus rapidly raised his hands, and shook his head, "No, no. You must not speak of the future; you cannot change its course. Dangerous consequences occur to those who mess with time."

"That is true, if there was a future to return to, Headmaster. There is no future; I have traveled back on a one-way journey. There will be no consequences; I have concocted and imbibed Destiny of Time," Scarlett revealed, prompting Albus' eyes to widen in disbelief and incredulity.

"The potion is said to be a myth and incredibly impossible to concoct."

"You always loved doing the impossible and I am deeply talented in potion, I inherited it from my mother. You researched it and located Merlin's diary, saving it for me to use as a failsafe. I have no future to return to, destiny allowed me to change its course."

Albus resolutely nodded and waved for her to continue. Once Scarlett informed him of how she succeeded in traveling to the past, she took in a deep breath. Now came the hard part.

"My true identity is not Scarlett Sage Emrys-Slytherin. I was born on July 31st, 1980, christened with the name, Scarlett Sage Potter, daughter and only child to James Potter and Lily Potter née Evans."

A fond smile introduced itself onto Albus' visage and he let out a fond chuckle; now that he knew her true parentage, he could clearly see the similarities she had to James and Lily… except for the eyes; he now knew something had terribly gone awry to transform such wonderfully unique emerald eyes to such a dreadful state. "James and Lily, hmmm? There has been a betting pool going around with the staff on whether or not those two would end up together. I do look forward to collecting my winnings in the future."

She threw her head back and let out a loud bark of laughter, "Yes, I am aware of Lily's hatred to James at the moment. However, there is no happy ending," her visage morphed to solemnity in the blink of an eye. "Four years from now, you will be interviewing Sybill Trelawney for the Divination post at Hog's Head and just as you denied her the position and went to take your leave, she made a prophecy, one that changed the Wizarding World and destroyed my life forever more;

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark the one as his equal, but the one will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …"

Albus Dumbledore greatly resembled a fish out of water as his mouth opened and closed numerous times, before he cleared his throat and regained his thoughts, enough to articulate a coherent sentence, "And the child was you?"

"Funnily enough, no. It was between me and Frank Longbottom and Alice Longbottom née Prewett's son, Neville Longbottom, my god-brother." Suppressing the image of Neville's corpse, she resolutely ploughed onward, "A Death Eater was sent to spy on you and managed to overhear the first few lines before Aberforth kicked him out, and he hastened to inform Voldemort at once. The Potters and the Longbottoms went into hiding under the Fidelius Charm, and unfortunately, my parents entrusted the wrong person to be their Secret Keeper. He was a spy and betrayed their location and on Halloween, 1981, Voldemort broke in to Godric's Hollow, killing my parents before turning his wand on me… I am the only known survivor of the Killing Curse, escaping with my life and the scar on my forehead," Scarlett tapped her finger against the curious scar that held the Headmaster's curiosity.

Jaw dropped, eyes wide, and curiosity heightened, Albus gazed at Scarlett as though she had grown a second head, "How did you survive? There are no means of surviving the Killing Curse, yet you mentioned a second war, I assume he returned somehow?"

"My mother… Lily, she sacrificed herself to save mine. James yelled at Lily to take me and run while he fought Voldemort off. Once he deftly killed him, he strolled over to my nursery where Lily had barricaded us and proceeded to convince her to step aside. Lily vehemently refused and pleaded for my life, 'Not Scarlett, please, take me, not Scarlett. I beg of you, have mercy.'" Verbatim, Scarlett emotionlessly repeated her mother's last words, prompting a grimace and pitying eyes from the aging man opposite to her, "He killed her, but unknown to him, old ancient magic was evoked, and magic protected me. According to you, love of a mother protected me, leaving a mark and when Voldemort trained his wand on me and uttered the Killing Curse, it rebounded onto him. His body was destroyed and he was banished as a spirit, nothing but the meanest ghost, while I was being hailed as the Girl-Who-Lived."

Fawkes let out a trill and perched himself on Scarlett's knee, his beady eyes trained mournfully at her and she smiled fondly, "Hello Fawkes."

"You know my familiar quite well, you have a bond," Albus smiled genuinely, trying to process the agonizing words his future student relayed to him. Scarlett nodded, "Fawkes and I go way back… besides, his feather resides in my wand-"

"Brother Wand to Voldemort," Albus interjected with a gasp, recalling Garrick's letter to him, decades ago, when Tom Riddle purchased his wand. …Will wonders ever cease? Collecting himself, Albus uttered a question he was most curious of, "How do you know your parents' last moments?"

Scarlett's lips quirked into a grimace, "Dementors are a curious thing; they force you to relive your most painful and horrible memories. During my third year, Dementors were ordered to protect the school, stationed at the entrance," seeing Albus' eyes flicker with anger, she quickly continued, "You obviously were against it, but the bumbling fool of a Minister had overridden your claim… a story for another time. Bottom line, Dementors enjoyed feasting on my pain, like a moth to a flame."

"I see," was all Albus had been able to mutter – and he did; Scarlett obviously had a troubled and gruesome life.

"During my fourth year, the one who betrayed my parents helped Voldemort regain a corporeal form. There are many things I must tell you, but I will leave them for later. For now, I must inform you that your suspicions and speculations are correct, Headmaster. Voldemort had succeeded in immortality… he has created Horcruxes."

Albus choked, her declaration reducing him to a coughing fit; never before had he looked so disturbed before. His face paled drastically, his hands quivered violently and his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. "Horcruxes, as in plural?"

"I'm afraid so… in my time he made seven-"

"SEVEN?"

"Yes, seven. However, right now, he only has five. I know where they are or where some of them will be later on, and I know how to destroy them," Scarlett smiled gently, hoping to soothe the aging Headmaster who looked as though he were about to enter cardiac arrest.

"How?"

"Headmaster, there is a reason why I was able to claim Ladyship over the Slytherin House. I defeated Voldemort in my time… the final battle of the second Wizarding World took place in Hogwarts on May 2nd, 1998 and I defeated him on the 3rd of May. Unfortunately, the losses were voluminous. So many lives lost because of one megalomaniac's tirade and crusade for power. Nobody survived. I am the only survivor, Headmaster and that is why I am here. The war was won, but at what cost? Your future-self updated me of every loss, and I am here to save lives and souls. With your help, we can end the war early," Scarlett spoke resolutely, each word ringing with determination.

"My dear girl. So brave. I can see now why I was very fond of you, my child. Your bravery knows no bound," Albus wiped away a tear, staring at her with pride. "Why was the final battle taken place at Hogwarts?"

"Because after you died, Voldemort took over the school. Children were held under the Cruciatus Curse as punishment, Muggleborns were imprisoned for stealing magic and their impure blood."

Rage took over Albus' visage and only Fawkes' trill soothed his nerves. Inhaling deeply, Albus opened his eyes and Scarlett decided to continue, "We will have many opportunities to plan Tom's downfall and for us to discuss everything that took place in the future. For now, I must be sorted into Gryffindor so I can start my mission."

A worried frown puckered onto his forehead, "You will have a hard time in the House of Lions especially since you are Lady Slytherin, are you positive that is where you want to be housed, my dear?"

"What's more Slytherin than a snake hiding in the house of lions?" Scarlett smirked, eliciting hearty chuckles from the Headmaster. "Out of curiosity my dear, what house were you sorted into in your time?"

"Gryffindor," Scarlett said proudly, smiling fondly at the wizened wizard.

"Of course you were," Albus beamed with pride. "However I can see your cunning streak… in fact, you are well-suited for all four houses. Now come, it is lunchtime already, let me introduce you to the school and I will have your books and equipment delivered by tonight so you can attend classes tomorrow," he said, jovially getting onto his feet.

"Please, call me Scarlett, or Scar," Scarlett informed him sternly, prompting chuckles out of the aging Headmaster.

Yes, Scarlett was a godsend; with her on their side, the war would be dealt with efficiently. A load has been lifted from the Leader of the Light's shoulders...

A/N: How do you like my latest story? I will be updating this regularly (along with my other stories for those that are waiting for them to be updated – worry not, I will not be abandoning ANY of them).

This story will be VERY different from the other going to the future fics, and I do hope you enjoy it. I will be waiting for your reviews on whether or not I continue this story before updating the next chapter.

How do you think the Marauders, Gryffindors and Slytherins will take having Lady Slytherin sorted into the House of Lions? Dum dum dummmm…. XD

R&R.