Gen Summary: Dorea picks Naruto world to fall into, tries to seamlessly ingrate herself in Konoha and end causing trouble. The good sort.
Warnings: Kiss cannon goodbye. Fem!Minato and male!Kushina. Mentions of genderbent HP characters like Susan Bones (who is now Dave Bones). Shifting POVs. Dorea/male!Kushina (because why the heck not?). Meddling Mikoto.

Notes: This was made purely to help me grasp conversation flows… I suck at those, so if you have any pointers, feel free to add!

Intro

Red Heads

A little what if story.

Or the story in which Namikaze Minato is actually Namikaze Minako and Uzumaki Kushina is actually Uzumaki Shinaku and he meets Dorea Potter who is addicted to red heads.

Prologue…
or Which Pillar Should Dorea Go In?

Do you know what happens when a child is holding a philosopher Stone and it explodes in their hand?

No?

Neither did Dorea when Nicholas Flamel's little trinket decided to go kaboom on her face when she was 11… no one ever tested to see what happens when a child drinks the elixir of life. Presumably they would stop growing altogether, though now Dorea knew differently.

A magical child's magic starts settling around their 11th birthday, when puberty hormones are beginning to show their faces and kids go from being children to that awkward pre-pubescent stage. It is the right time to pick a wand and bond with it because a child's magic's personality is finishing being molded.

Then comes the second stage of magical adulthood. By around seventeen magic has matured completely and has reached its potential only bound by the body's limit. That's why seventeen is the agreed upon majority age in the conclaves by the ICW. After seventeen, the magical in question only has to wait until their body finishes growing and they are out of the teenage numbers and happily on their twenties. A body can reach max potential by twenty one to thirty, in which time metabolism is at its peak and which youth can be extended for a decade or two until a magical's body equates itself to a muggle's.

Magicals are naturally longer lived, after all. The ageing rate is determined by magical potential, body overall health and genetics. Though magic is likened to a live being and cannot be held in such mundane parameters, sometimes it has a will of its own (such is the case with Squibs or ridiculously overpowered individuals like Dumbledore and Tom Riddle).

When she was born, Dorea was as far from common a magical as, let us say, her father. Though she had no special talent as far as magical talents go like her godfather' second cousin Nymphadora who happened to be a metamorphmagus – she had the potential to be a brilliant witch and live a long, comfortable life compared to the mediocre, like her godfather's other second cousin, Draco. Lily was an uncommonly powerful witch thanks to her smarts, and by some hidden genetic mechanics, when old bloodlines are fed new blood, example: Lily adding to James' family, huge potential is unlocked. (Like the ridiculously overpowered individuals cited above).

So Dorea was born with a leg up compared to a few her peers, that's not uncommon and much less revered – she was still a baby at the time, no matter how ridiculously overpowered she'd grow to be, right at that moment she was just a defenseless babe. And that was what Voldemort was counting on when he blasted his way into her nursery and demanded Lily to hand her child. Lily pled for Dorea's life instead of her own, unknowingly putting Voldermot in quite a conundrum that he solved in a moment's time by killing Lily.

Only, the fact he killed Lily activated a magical debt – Severus Snape, who swore fealty to not one, but two Opposite Powers so Lily's life could be spared had his trust broken when not only Voldermort, but Dumbledore as well did not respect the terms of his vow. And when Lily begged for her life instead, wishing against Severus magical oaf, all of it transferred from Lily to Dorea the moment Voldemort killed the mother. So little Dorea was the one being protected by the power of a vow.

It showed when Voldemort's killing curse rebounded and off'ed him instead.

Of course it didn't end there. Dorea was given to her aunt, and when she was eleven, she received the biggest shock of her short life until then. Yes, she was a witch. And when she was eleven and a half, a philosopher stone exploded on her face.

The vow from Severus Snape that protected her as a child against Voldemort still worked, and magic revolted against the Dark Lord trying to break his word to his bound servant twice – for Severus Snape traded his freedom for Lily's life and that end of their bargain was not met. Thus, when a Voldemort-possessed teacher tried yet again to harm little Dorea, it was his end. In a fiery, dramatically painful way.

A couple of years later she'd finally defeat Voldemort for sure and think she had the chance of a normal life. She thought that until she reached forty two and looked no older than twenty. The conclusion she and Hermione came to was that the Philosopher Stone only came into effect the moment Dorea matured completely in both body and magic… "Maybe your body absorbed a bit of the stone when… you know. It should be temporary, Nicholas Flamel needed yearly doses of the Elixir of Life" Though when she reached a hundred and looked no older than twenty – Hermione's theory was shot and something even worst happened: the magicals grew restless enough to move against her it seemed.

And now she knows what happens when philosopher stones explode on one's face.

They are sealed in a time chamber to spend forever locked up in oblivion.

Literally.

…

At first Dorea thought the blame belonged to the hallows and the whole mythological nonsense of being the Master of Death. As if death could be tamed by measly three little items made by itself.

The Stone… she tossed it, cracked and flaking, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest never to be found again. The Elder wand was later buried with its last wielder under tons of cement just to be sure. The Cloak was an heirloom and Dorea refused to part with it until the very end, though it couldn't save her anyway.

Dorea was not the Master of Death, for all she sometimes wished for the mythical title. At least then the ignorant fools surrounding her would lay off her case. Just because she was slightly immortal due to happenstances of fate, does not mean she suddenly got the urge to eradicate them all like the last Dark Lord she dispatched.

It started all on a Sunday morning.

Dorea slipped out of her London flat to buy some much needed groceries. She never made it to the store, for pitching a decided siege was the whole of the Auror Squad – Dorea didn't even know she was under siege! Hermione, now with thinning white hair, eight grandchildren and recent widower tried to warn her, but Dorea shrugged her oldest (live) friend off. It's not as if the wizards would turn against their number one celebrity out of sheer ignorance… wouldn't they?

But then someone had the brilliant idea of comparing Dorea's life with Tom Riddle's when a couple of months went by without any scandals in the life of high society, they grew bored in peace. One conspirancy circle after another added fuel to the fire and then, before she could even comprehend, she was a rising Dark Lady who ate baby souls and kitten hearts to keep her youth.

Since all her friends were kissing their first century, and thus were not really in condition to help Dorea's persecution, Dorea was caught by the Auror corps – who were hailed as heroes – and taken to the ministry of magic where a crypt awaited for her. She didn't struggle, simply because she knew it would be useless in proving her innocence.

"Dorea Victoria Potter, for your crimes against the conclaves, you are hereby condemned by the court and the ICW for a lifetime in the sealed chamber" Spoke someone Dorea didn't care to know. The time chamber was actually a glorified sarcophagus though, and didn't seem that cozy.

Funny she was being condemned when there wasn't even a trial to speak of. "I don't suppose I forgot to be present at the trial again, did I really?" She asked just to be sure. Her executioner sneered, rightful anger in his eyes. Though it certainly wasn't the last time the ministry conveniently 'forgot' to warn her about supercilious things such as life-changing tribunals in section. "Well, you people whom I saved at one time won't even give me the benefit of the doubt?"

The answer was an unanimous NO when Dorea next found herself shoved in a magic negating crypt, the world around her being swallowed by darkness.

Immortality was a capital crime, it seemed. Why didn't they try to execute her anyway? An Avada Kadavra to the forehead would do since all her protections against it were gone (Snape's vow and Voldemort's horcruxe). But no, they had to be thinking she split her soul like her old foe. Thus the magic negating crypt. Presumably until they found and destroyed all her imaginary horcruxes.

The first few days were horrible. Dorea lost all sense of time in the total darkness – she existed in a limbo in which her only salvation was the sound of her own heart and the lava like sound her blood made in her veins. Hunger came and went, though she was slightly unused to the hunger pangs since she's been about eighty years away from the Dursleys. Counting heartbeats became a past time, and she counted about seven hundred thousand beats before anything else happened (about a week, 4k beats an hour).

"You know, you could have fought back" Hermione's voice cut through the silence, Dorea could barely move, but she managed enough strength to open her eyes a crack. "I know you didn't want any troubles, and I'm sorry that people never learn…"

Split lips parted in a mock of a smile, blood caking under her chin from all the biting she did (just to feel something). A cup was positioned in front of her mouth, Dorea's eyebrow went up. "Draught of Living Death. I'm sorry Dorea, there is no way to smuggle you out of here – we are currently in the lowest basement level of the ministry and there is only a single passage up. It's been warded specifically against you… so drink this up, it should keep you alive long enough for me to find another way to help you"

Down the gullet went the potion. The effects were instantaneous. Dorea's parlor became deathly pale and the bruises under her eyes only made the effect more terrifying. Hermione checked for a heartbeat and found none – the DoLD did as described, putting the victi- patient under a state similar to death.

Well, Hermione gave a deep breath, this was it, she supposed. The old looking witch caressed her reckless friend's face one last time before sealing the crypt once more – she could hear the sound of the Aurors she had Ginny distract coming back. Time to do some pro-Dorea campaign.

…

Hermione lost.

…

Her throat felt parched, the skin around her eyes was tight and she could barely breathe without flinching – her ribs were protesting too much… The stale air in her crypt seemingly got worse too. But there was a limelight. Literally. A thin veil of light inundated her prison, and Dorea would revel in it as soon as the DoLD's effects passed – had Hermione left a crack open in the crypt purposely? But then, Dorea never heard of someone being revived unattended after pretending being dead. Where was her friend? So Dorea stretched a much used muscle, filling her small prison with magic to help recovery faster – to her surprise, her magic surged forward like an eager little puppy and exploded in a halo around her body.

Little motes of magic flames twinkled in the crypt, heightening Dorea's field of vision and allowing her to take account. Naked skin met her eyes, the air was dusty and there were small decayed plastic bottoms that used to adorn her robes lined up on her chest along with a trail of what used to be thread. The stiff cushion underneath her was gone too – so she was laying on a pile of surprisingly comfortable dust.

Having a strange hunch that magic would work perfectly well wandlessly, Dorea flexed and tensed her magic muscle, wishing for her crypt to be clean at least – the dirt and dust were gone the next second. And Second on her list were clothes. The ministry humiliated her enough that Dorea didn't want to flash them all her pale buttocks to complete the assemble… A wish later, and she was wearing a simple black, shapeless dress (she's never been the creative sort).

Time to make a grand exit.

Feeling indescribable excitement curling in her belly, along with an inexplicable dread, Dorea pushed open her prison…

…

Dorea blinked. Then blinked again. She was floating beside her crypt in an endless looking space. There were beautiful pillars of light in variating colors all around her. Just where in Merlin's name was she?

Looking behind her wielded the same scene, only existing scant few centimeters behind her was one of those pillars… now paying attention to it, Dorea could see the Cracks. Desperation filling her heart for as of now, unknown reasons.

Dorea leapt over her crypt and stood on top of it, reaching out a hand to touch the pillars, finger pads passing over a single crack.

It was enough.

…

"Magic exists folks! Like fairytales, witches and wizards all around us!"

"You mundane people have a right to know about our hidden world. We will be walking together toward a new Era of peace and prosperity"

"Can magic cure cancer? This reporter is here with the audience at St. Dorea Victoria Hospital for Medical Research to hear directly from Dr. Ainsworth, who is the specialist behind this surprising and revolutionary cure! – Dr. Ainsworth, how does this work?"

"… and we're here today with Timmy Dare, the explorer extraordinaire who has fearlessly braved a Dragon reserve and is now going to tell us everything about it…"

"Technology stocks have been in descent ever since magic was discovered. Specialists suppose that magic substitutes technological needs, thus investments decreased. Selected groups are wondering if this stable development times will help with global warming"

"DMwordR wrote (04:34): U no wat I tink? Dey wan us dfenceless so dey kn hav it all.
KervemoxMonster wrote (04:38): U said it man.
Bellexxxaims wrote (04:39): Your grammar sucks. Go read something.
Alaine1289 wrote (04:52): Magic developers have designed a moon shuttle, shut up, magic is helping us grow without damaging the ecosystems!
DMwordR wrote (04:53): I no blive dat. Y dey help us at all? We all gonna die if we don do smthing.
KervemoxMonster wrote (04:54): My da say the military r working in anti-magic stuff, y they do that if their no threat right?
Bellexxxaims wrote (04:55): Your grammar sucks too.
Alaine1289 is typing…"

"Yesterday afternoon a group of magical terrorist have caused terror and fear throughout US east coast. They had a hostage that was brutally murdered in some pagan rite in front of the cameras, more news? Access our webpage at -"

"The Insurgence has tried yet again to revive one of the most polemical Dark Ladies to ever walk this Earth. In her youth, Dorea Potter vanquished a Dark Lord and returned peace to Europe after said Dark Lord's long reign of terror – of which great part spilled unnoticed by us, to the so called then by our magical peers, "muggle world" – Only Dorea Potter went mad with power lust and committed unmentionable crimes to obtain Immortality. She was arrested and sentenced to life prison, though she perished in captivity when the brave effort of law enforcement located and destroyed all her "horcruxes", or soul pieces. To this day, the good deeds of Dorea still stand recognized, though they couldn't erase the abomination she later was responsible for. The Insurgence of Magical Might believes Dorea Potter can be used as a weapon against muggles, since her history with the non-magical people is a turbulent one…"

"Did you know that each and every one of those so called magical people have a deadly weapon in their hand? Even the smallest child can cast hexes and curses that us, common folk can't stand against! If they are allowed weapons, why aren't we?"

"Movements against magic have broken all across the globe. The more vocals are not above militia tactics"

"Witches and Wizards! We should unite against the muggles! Our trust in them has been broken, let them know who are their betters!"

"A War of devastating proportions! We are now speaking live from the UN in five-"

"…"

…

Whatthebloodyhellhappened?

"What the bloody hell happened?" Dorea found herself being ejected harshly away from the crumbling thing! The pillar shook, creaked and then, before her very eyes, turned to a fine dust that coalesced in the center of what once (she supposed) was a time-stream… or maybe an universe? A reality?

All Dorea could think of was that her entire life was in that thing – she recognized some names and faces from the flashes of information received from the crack – the conclaves, in a last ditch to save themselves, abused things that were not meant for them to abuse. Like time. And by erasing the muggles altogether by killing the Ancestor they also erased that reality itself since the very foundation of it depended on muggles surviving… that's what happens when you kill your own grandfather… for all magicals would have liked to think themselves special, they came from the same place muggles did.

That and trying to resurrect her? She wasn't even dead! What kind of monstrosities had been done that the very reality cracked?

Then why had she survived? How long has she been in the crypt? From the memories of the crumbling pillar she gathered that at least a century has passed… maybe the ministry morons thought they could get rid of her by tossing her prison in the Death Archway? Didn't work… that. Snort.

Hahah..haha! She was the one having the last laugh.. hahhaha..haha… ha… sob. Sob, hiccup.

…

She didn't know how long she spent curled up on her crypt crying her eyes out. But it was long enough for her to grow sleepy and hungry anyway, so utterly miserable, Dorea shook her head and stood up straight. She had to do something for herself right now, because she wouldn't be able to survive solely on conjured water (food was still impossible to conjure, she's tried).

Still melancholic, Dorea's eyes searched for the nearest pillar. It stood a couple of meters away from her crumbled one – so she swam over, abandoning her prison with a fair share of disdain. This pillar was a swirling mess of oranges, blues and purples, and the moment her hand touched the flickering surface of the thing, she was able to see into it.

A vortex of colors. Dorea stared wide eyed. Beautiful harmonic colors flashing all around in small bursts, until something unexpected happened… a '60 styled police phone booth came hurling through the color vortex in a blue streak, soaring through where Dorea floated outside and nearly hitting the wall she hid behind on.

Curious despite herself, Dorea decided to swim to another light pillar, and so she did, reaching another one hued mainly in purples. Touching it did the same thing the last one did, and Dorea was now peeking inside that vortex. It looked like a tourbillion of purple fire, exotic and mysterious, Dorea spent nearly an hour (by her perception) simply gazing into it until something happened, similarly to the last pillar. Something came flying from the depth of the vortex, floating up and up until it disappeared somewhere along the way…

"Blue police phone boxes, now girls!" She mumbled to herself. And indeed, a girl just went through – dark haired and wearing a Japanese school girl outfit, with a huge yellow backpack and a pink bicycle.

Dorea just skipped to the next pillar, and then the next, unable to decide which one she wanted in… They better be nicer than her old one.

…