Calming draughts were blue and tasted exactly how Lilian expected them to – terrible. She fingered at one of the shortbreads squares she had ordered, preferring to eat the remaining panic and disbelief away than make a scene. Her initial freak out had lasted around ten minutes before Tom had noticed and took pity on her, bringing a heavy helping of the glowing potion to her table. Apparently shotting it made the taste more bearable.

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do now," Lilian muttered to herself hopelessly, resting her cheek on the wooden surface as her eyes followed the remaining customers who swayed on their feet. She needed a plan, a way of making sure she had a place to stay for the night as well as a job for the foreseeable future. There wasn't much sense in holding onto hope about returning to her own reality considering she knew nothing about doing it.

The door to the Leaky Cauldron opened, letting a cheerful ding into the air as a trio of men walked in and to the booth opposite hers. Lilian supposed she could ask Tom about giving her a chance at waitressing. Glancing at the man from the corner of her eye, she crossed out that idea. He didn't seem like the type to let an underage girl work in his bar. Leaning back in her chair, she pushed a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. She sighed, catching the stare of one of the men from the table opposite her.

It wasn't so much his appearance that made him familiar, but the glint flashing off of his moon-shaped spectacles. Frowning at the niggling sensation that probed at the back of her mind, Lilian broke eye contact and went back to stuffing shortbread fingers in her mouth. The sound of a chair scraping as it got pushed back was what brought her attention back, now firmly stuck to the robed wizard that was making his way to her booth.

"I must admit," He started with a sombre smile, "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

Blinking owlishly at him, Lilian bobbed her head slowly as if she understood what he was saying to her, "Yes?"

"I can't seem to tell whether you're a figment of my own imagination or guilt."

"I think you have me confused with someone else," Lilian admitted gently, careful not to come across as rude, "I've never seen you before, have we met?"

The stranger seemed to stall at her words, the space between his eyebrows beginning to furrow slightly as he assessed her, "Miss Evans?"

She shook her head, "My name is Eoghans. Lilian Eoghans."

"Oh, my mistake then, Miss Eoghans," He said, "You wouldn't happen to be related to a Lily Evans, would you? The resemblance is almost," He paused before adding softly, "Well, it's identical."

Lilian perked at the name, eyeing the stranger with interest. She entertained the idea of saying yes, wondering why the man would feel guilty towards the-boy-who-lived's mother. "Can I ask who you are? It's a bit strange talking to somebody who I don't even know the name of."

"My apologies, Miss Eoghans," He reached a hand out for her to shake, "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts."

It was unfortunate that Lilian had taken another bite of the shortbread, gasping mid-chew which caused a hacking fit. Rushing for her tea, she managed to knock the cup over before finally washing the stubborn biscuit down the right tube.

"Sorry, sorry," She gave a final cough, "I'm okay. I'm alive."

"I surely hope so," Dumbledore gave a soft smile as his eyes strayed to the currently lid-less teapot, "I see you enjoy your tea with a slice of lemon."

"It makes it-"

"Taste stronger, yes. I used to know someone who drank it like that too."

Lilian could only nod, still slightly starstruck at the famous wizard in front of her.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, Miss Eoghans, but I must get back to my dinner partners," He gave her a warm smile before turning on his heel and starting on his way back to his table. Lilian nibbled on her bottom lip as she watched him sit down, the wheels in her mind already turning in full motion.

Dumbledore was supposed to be the good guy throughout the books, battling for what he believed was right despite his many flaws. He could help her, she knew that, but she also knew he had a habit of sacrificing people for the 'greater good.' If she told him everything she was seriously risking her own neck, knowing already that an anomaly from another reality was the last thing anybody in both the magic and non-magic world would accept and try to help. Lilian was alone in this time; her parents were born in the early seventies and what would her grandparents think if she showed up claiming to be their toddler's kid? Nobody would believe her and she would have wasted both her time and effort in even attempting. Friends were another issue, none of them having been born earlier than the mid-nineties. Lilian could feel another round of tears blurring her vision as she looked down at her laced fingers, playing with them in an attempt to distract herself.

She couldn't trust anybody, and whilst Tom had been nothing but accommodating and helpful she was only a customer that he hoped would come again. He had an ulterior motive to be nice. Dumbledore really was her only option right now, she realised with a sense of defeat and determination. She could tell him a censored version of events and leave the Harry Potter issue for another time.

Swallowing her nerves, Lilian pushed herself out the chair and made her way towards the trio of men currently at the table. Dumbledore was the last to look up from his drink, his head cocking to the side as he watched her approach.

"Sorry, but I think I might need your help."

Dumbledore had booked a room on the second floor, a couple of doors down from where he was planning to stay for the night. He hadn't really given Lilian a choice in the matter, not that she would refuse all things considered. After paying for her tea and biscuits, as well as the calming draught she didn't even have enough money left for a bus ride to Goodge Street. It was with an awkward grace that she hadn't burst into tears when he had offered to pay for her room, even going so far as to conjure up a spare set of clothes for her before she was ushered into her room and told to change. There was a bathroom to the left of the room, blocked off by a rather mouldy door that creaked when she entered.

Dumbledore calmly spoke to her through the piece of wood that separated them, engaging in basic small talk as she slipped into the dark, woollen jumper and knee-skirt that she was given. They were too big for her, but anything was better than her blood-speckled jeans and sweat-stained shirt. A quick splash of water to the face and she was feeling more herself.

"If I were a fruit I would probably be an apple: basic, but a classic," Lilian answered, smiling slightly at the strange questions that were being thrown her way, "Very good in pies."

"I suspect a strawberry in my case, albeit my reasoning is purely because I enjoy them." Dumbledore spoke from his seat beside the window, turning to watch as she sat cross-legged on the bed where she nodded along to his words.

"That's fair," She propped a knee under her chin and wrapped her arms around her leg, "I mean at least you didn't say kiwi."

"Do you dislike kiwi?"

"It's a fruit with fur. Nothing good can come from that."

"Indeed," A sparkle in his eyes seemed to be dying out and rekindling itself every few answers she gave, "Would a peach be along the same lines in your mind?"

"A peach has fuzz, that's different."

A hum of amusement left the wizard, an eyebrow raised as he closed the conversation with a simple controlled glance out of the window to the grey clouds and fog that had descended upon the world outside. There were small drops of water on the glass, rolling down whenever they got too fat. Lilian glanced around the room again, noticing the way the theme of dark and gloomy reflected in every piece of furniture. The brightest thing in the room was the painting of an underwater city hanging across from the bed, made with gem tones of blue and green.

"Can I ask why you needed to see me, Miss Eoghans?"

Lilian couldn't help the scrunch of her nose at the name, wondering why he insisted on using her surname. She had asked him to call her Lilian, or even Lily if it meant the formality could be dropped. Blowing a strand of her fringe out of her eyes, she looked up at the dingy chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

"Believe it or not I'm trying really hard to not freak out again right now, so this might not make much sense." She spoke, feeling the tentative eyes on her. Her thoughts went back to the train, wondering if it was possible that she concussed herself to the point of hallucinating. Dreaming had been ruled out, her torn up palms stinging enough for her to check it off the possibility list.

Dumbledore nodded along to her, encouraging her to continue whatever she was about to string together to explain herself. He brandished his wand and flicked it slightly, a silver tray floating from the corner of the room and into his lap, "Might I suggest tea to calm the nerves?"

"I think I've had enough for tonight, thanks," Lilian smiled, "Although I wouldn't turn down something a bit stronger."

"The legal age is eighteen, Miss Eoghans," The teapot poured itself into the chipped china, "Although I might turn a blind eye just this once."

The girl watched him take a sip of his steaming drink, feeling her gut churn with every passing second. It was logical to see that Dumbledore would help her, but if he would believe her after this was another story completely. Looking towards the vanity, she spotted a familiar bottle of whiskey, already open and poured into a glass for her. It floated across the room and into her hands accompanied by a wink from the wizard. Throwing a grateful smile, she drank it in one go.

"I guess I can start with the fact that I'm not from this time. I'm from almost fifty years in to the future," Lilian started, refusing to catch the man's stare, "All I know is that I took the seven-fifteen tube to Charing Cross and somehow ended up…. here."

"I see," He took another sip, "I assume this wasn't something you did intentionally?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start, if I'm honest. I didn't even know magic was a thing until today."

"And yet you managed to enter the Leaky Caldron."

"It's not like it was hidden away or something," Lilian frowned. The door had seemingly melted into existence now that she thought back on it, "Was it?"

The clink of the teacup on the saucer was accompanied by Dumbledore clearing his throat, "The Leaky Cauldron only materialises in front of witches and wizards, a non-witch or non-wizard would see an abandoned and rundown building. It's very possible that your sudden time travelling has changed more than just the era you're in."

Flopping back onto the bed, Lilian glanced at the ceiling and the multiple cracks that ran from one corner to the other, "You're taking this a lot better than I did. Does this mean you believe me?"

"I'm not sure, Miss Eoghans," He started, "Time travel is usually only done using a Time Turner and even then, the most one can go back is a week. The fact you claim to be from so far in the future is something I'm having trouble believing without proof."

"Are you serious?" She sat up with a drawl, "You can levitate a tea tray, materialise clothing from thin air and yet my story seems impossible?"

"You have to draw the line somewhere I'm afraid,"

"Can you draw it a bit further down the line then? I honestly don't know what I'm supposed to do if you don't help me, let alone believe me."

"I never said I didn't believe you, merely struggling to wrap my mind around it as a possibility," He calmly spoke, a faint grin spread across his face at the fiery girl in front of him, "It does strike me as a little strange that you chose me to ask for help from. You had no guarantee that I would do anything."

Lilian couldn't hide how her eyes widened, "I assumed you would, you work as a Headmaster don't you? Aren't you supposed to help wayward children?" The lie was rough and she hoped it would work. She wasn't entirely sure how he would take it if she let him know he was a character in one of her favourite book series. He seemed to accept her response, nodding to himself at the apparent logic behind it.

"As flattered as I am, I'm unsure of how you want me to help you."

"I don't know either, Professor," She admitted, pulling at a strand of hair nervously. What was she going to do now? She supposed her highest priority at the moment was to just get by, have a job with enough money for food and a roof over her head.

The look Dumbledore gave her then had been cleared of the comforting and calm mistiness and traded for a clearer and calculating look. Lilian felt like she was being examined, her appearance as well as story running around his mind as he tried to come up with the solution to whatever question he had come up with.

"I must say," He finally said, "Your arrival most definitely solves a few problems, yet creates more as well."

"Sorry," Lilian found herself saying, too exhausted at this point to realise she was apologising for something that wasn't even her fault. Her hair was now sticking up at odd angles, dishevelled from the constant tugs and fingers raking through it. The calming draught Tom had brought her was wearing off already, having done its job for nearly two hours at this stage.

Dumbledore's eyebrow rose at her comment, "This is something beyond a single person's fault, in fact I would think ultimately your presence in this world is linked to the deceased Lily Evans."

Lilian froze at that, her eyes snapping to the greying man, mouth opened in horror and disbelief, "I'm sorry, what? Lily Evans is dead?"

The sullen look on the Headmaster's face aged him ten years, the overall despair at losing such a promising student as well as someone so young apparent in his slouched shoulders.

"Miss Evans was found dead a few hours ago, her body was on Hogwarts grounds," He explained carefully, watching as the girl in front of him began to turn an unattractive shade of grey, "Her exact time of death seems to match with the time of your arrival. The moment a girl dies is also when another is thrown into our time, both identical enough to be twins."

His voice had become rather wispy and forlorn towards the end, a sign he was trying to figure something out himself. Lilian felt the tell-tale of panic bubbling in her stomach again, piercing and jabbing at the faux calm that still lingered in her veins.

"It's suspicious if nothing else, you must admit. The death of a student is something Hogwarts takes seriously," He leaned forward in his chair, "and your appearance makes me dubious as to the meaning behind it."

"But…. But she can't be dead. She's Lilian Evans! She's supposed to marry James and," Lilian sunk a hand into her hair, "oh my god."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," She could feel herself close to tears as she realised just what the death of her supposed doppelganger meant, "Nothing. Sorry, just thinking."

"Perhaps, you were meant to travel back in time," He got up and sat beside her, "Or maybe it's unfortunate luck that Miss Evans has passed."

"I don't think I'm following," Lilian lied, hoping she was wrong about where this conversation was going. Her skin was damp behind her neck from her muted panic, the immediate need to run becoming louder and louder with every word that tumbled from the wizard's mouth. It felt like static had settled permanently underneath her skin as he spoke the words she was dreading to hear.

Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it for comfort, "Nobody has been notified of her death except for myself and a few House Elves. It would appear that assimilating yourself into her life would be the best option for you right now."

Lilian felt sick. Not from the idea, but the fact she was actually considering it. She was alone in this time, any hope of family or friends coming to her rescue shattered. Her purse was already empty, save for a few coins and she had no place to stay after tonight. Lily Evans had a circle of friends, family, and more importantly would be safe under Dumbledore's eye. Lily's life was already shaped with at least four years left before she was supposed to die by Voldemort's hands, so would it be that bad to step in? She would have that time to figure out how to survive on her, and if she was lucky how to get back to her own reality. Every moral reason to not go through with it was immediately shut down by a more pressing need to survive in her new surroundings. She couldn't help but feel hopeless, knowing already what she would say. It made sense now that she was always sorted into Slytherin, Lilian mused with a bitterness that made its way to her pale face.

"You don't have to give me your answer tonight, but I must ask you to have one by the morning," Dumbledore spoke softly, reading the sudden shift in her mood and posture, "Goodnight, Miss Eoghans."

Lilian didn't sleep well that night.