A/N: This is a re-write of an earlier story. It turned out that one wasn't the story that wanted to be written.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter created by J. K. Rowling, Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, Oz by L. Frank Baum, and that beagle with the typewriter by Charles Schulz. I own none of them, which is too bad because then I'd be very rich.

Chapter One

The Fairy Godmother

Child of the pure unclouded brow
And dreaming eyes of wonder!
Though time be fleet, and I and thou
Are half a life asunder,
Thy loving smile will surely hail
The love-gift of a fairy-tale.

I have not seen thy sunny face,
Nor heard thy silver laughter:
No thought of me shall find a place
In thy young life's hereafter –
Enough that now thou wilt not fail
To listen to my fairy-tale.

A tale begun in other days,When summer suns were glowing –
A simple chime, that served to time
The rhythm of our rowing –
Whose echoes live in memory yet,
Though envious years would say 'forget.'

Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread,With bitter tidings laden,
Shall summon to unwelcome bed
A melancholy maiden!
We are but older children, dear,
Who fret to find our bedtime near.

Without, the frost, the blinding snow,
The storm-wind's moody madness –
Within, the firelight's ruddy glow,
And childhood's nest of gladness.
The magic words shall hold thee fast:
Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.

And though the shadow of a sigh
May tremble through the story,
For 'happy summer days' gone by,
And vanish'd summer glory –
It shall not touch with, breath of bale,
The pleasance of our fairy-tale.

-Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There

Once upon a time, or maybe twice...

1892, Kansas, USA

She was, in essence, divided.

A part of her, she knew, still belonged to the mortal world, living her mortal life, the part of her that still believed Wonderland but a dream. The mortal part of herself knew, deep down, that a part of her was there, and always would be, forever Queen Alice of Wonderland.

Life, what is it but a dream? That had been the last part of the incantation that had made her immortal, an Otherworld Queen, and it's Goddess. She understood why, despite Wonderland's chaotic nature, with all it's monsters and other unpleasant things, she was never truly in any danger, there. Everything she needed would just appear, when she needed it. But then, this particular Otherworld was her creation, her dream, crafted by very powerful Fairy magic as they made her into one of their own.

Or, was it his dream? She'd wondered that after she became Queen. That was a riddle she'd never found the answer to. But then, that place was full of riddles with no answers. Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Wonderland had many visitors, ever since he had taken their once private little special place and opened it to the world. So many found their way here, usually in dreams, sometimes not. Or, at least they usually considered their trips to Wonderland dreams, afterward. So had she.

Oftentimes, the visitors would be children, though all one really needed was a sense of wonder. Some had said her world was an inappropriate place for children to visit, declaring it the stuff of nightmares. Nonsense, Queen Alice thought.

Tonight, though, it was Queen Alice who would be doing the visiting. Fairies, especially Fairy Queens, had many duties. One of Queen Alice's favorite visitors, Mary Blue, now Mrs. Mary Gale, was about to become a mother. Alice was coming to give the child her Blessing.

A fairy had to be careful these days when she was to be a Godmother. One had to avoid those self appointed guardians of magic, those mortals who called themselves wizards. These wizards had declared themselves the Law over all that was magical, and declared that all evidence of magic must be kept from those mortals they deemed unworthy of knowing of it. They sought to control all the magic in the world.

The Fae had refused to be ruled by these wizards. The wizards were fools to think they could truly control magic. Magic was ancient and chaotic, and it rebelled at attempts to completely contain it. Such was it's nature. Magic was in everything, really, though sometimes it was hard to see.

There had been many conflicts between the wizards and the Fae. They had settled into a tense co-existence, but the wizards still tried to interfere in Fae business. Alice learned this after her first trip to Wonderland. There was a great deal of argument about what to do about the situation. They actually intended to violate her very mind, as well as that of her friend, who the world now knew as Lewis Carroll. Fortunately for them both, they were protected by the magic of the Fae. A compromise was reached with the Ministry of Magic. The world would believe the stories of her adventures were fiction.

It was only a matter of time, though, before the storm would break. The wizards had gone too far when they captured the Brownies of the Seelie Court and enslaved them. The Fae had, thus far, been able to do little to help the Brownies, but the Fae could plan, long term. The wizards, so arrogant in how they viewed their place in the world, would never see the storm coming.

Speaking of storms, it was a dark and stormy night in Kansas, right in the middle of the vast United States of America, where Alice was visiting. Alice suddenly pictured a beagle, of all things, typing out that description as the beginning of a great novel. She'd always had a curious imagination. So had Mary Blue.

Mary's brother had described her as a dreamer, a girl sometimes lost in her own world, her own thoughts. Mary was quite a brilliant girl, Alice thought. She'd visited Wonderland often as she was growing up. She visited less when she grew to womanhood and married, but she still appeared every now and then. Wonderland was a part of her and she would always be welcome there.

It was during her most recent visit that Alice offered her services as godmother.

"Have you decided on a name?" Alice had asked.

"If it's a boy, Theodore. If it's a girl, Dorothy."

"Gift of the Gods," Alice replied. "And, she'll be a girl."

"How do you know?" Mary wondered, though she was pleased. She wanted a girl.

"I just do," Alice said and smiled. "And she'll be good, clever, strong, and powerful. All will one day know her name."

Dorothy Gale... How appropriate the weather, Alice thought. Names had their own magic, and Dorothy Gale was already raising her first storm. She'd have an affinity for those.

Alice would have many goddaughters over the coming years, and they would all have aspects of herself, as much her children as they were their parents', all dreamers, all adventurers, all considered strange and unusual to the small minded. Each, in their own way, would follow her path. One day, she knew, she would call several of them together, all these seeds she had carefully planted.

And on that day the storm would break.