Prologue

People always expected Harry Potter to become an Auror when the war had finally ended. He was one of the greatest wizards who had ever lived because of his accomplishments. A real celebrity of the highest caliber for something out of anyone's control and ultimately a freakish accident of circumstances. And then raised even higher for becoming the Dark Lord's Conqueror...

Except that the 'Boy-Who-Lived' was a ruse coined up by the late Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore. A machination of a misguided old man with a zealotrous belief of the 'Greater Good'. Harry Potter never existed other than in a fictional sentiment. Instead, the real one to survive the Killing Curse was actually a young witch of a similar name. Well not really, but the familial relation was the same. Laelette Alice Evans was Lily (Potter)'s daughter, certainly. But she was forced to live a lie for nine years because of the manipulative headmaster of Hogwarts. It was a charade kept up under the pretense that a man would make for a more ideal beacon of hope than an emotionally scarred little girl.

The lanky and slightly muscular young man with olive green eyes and untamable blackish brown hair was just a runic enchantment that glamored the witch's true beauty. Beneath the illusion, Laelette had piercing avada green eyes that held a limitless magical potential. Those emeralds always shone with intelligence and a sharp wit borne of a silver tongue. But the other facet hidden in her eyes was a fierce and terrifying temper. Sleek raven black tresses often cascaded down her back when not in a braided crown. She was tall for a woman, a witch especially. Even with growing up with abusive and neglectful relatives, Laelette had grown to an astonishing six foot three (approximately 170 cm). Well after a few probably illegal growth charms and nutrient potions she'd taken in her sixth year. She had a svelte physique, but not unhealthily so. As a youthful punk would describe her, Laelette had 'legs for days'. Despite her thinness, the dark haired witch sported an impressive bust. From the photos of her mother, Laelette found out she was two or three times larger than the petite redhead.

And if she had been honest with herself, Laelette would have not been sorted into Gryffindor as the self proclaimed leader of Light had schemed, the last Potter (read Evans) would have most certainly been sorted a serpent of Slytherin or Ravenclaw if she had wanted to be even more cunning. Her charade as 'Harry' made her play second best to Hermione and on 'par' with Ron Weasley. A true snake in a lion's den. And none had been the wiser. That had worked out for the most part. But during her stay at the magical institution, she would be just fine never seeing a penis ever again. Seven years in a dormitory with teenage boys had been an utter nightmare and she'd never been able to speak a word to a soul. Something she would repress into a vault via occlumency.

But after finishing her last year at Hogwarts, Laelette had formally taken up her lordship as Head of House Potter. And despite that she was so wealthy that she would never have to work a day in her life to live comfortably, Lily ( after her deceased mother as she preferred as of late) had immediately been inducted as an apprentice into the Department of Mysteries. She devoted her studies well with her induction to the secret order within the Ministry. Few knew of what they really did and fewer knew their identities.

Her master had been Saul Croaker, a tall man with broad shoulder. He almost always spoke in whispers. Or even in sign language if he didn't feel like talking. Within the first year she worked under him, he had become like an eccentric grandfather she'd never known.

By the time she was twenty one, Laelette was inducted as a fully fledged member of the Unspeakables. Her specialty: mysterious magical artifacts. With her work during her sixth and seventh year hunting horcruxes, she already had a head start with dark objects. She had quickly become the leader in long forgotten, dangerous or indecipherable magical objects. She became so skilled in her craft that she even became the shadow head of the Department of Misuse of Magical Artifacts. While she kept to the shadow, it was her anonymous correspondence with the Office Head that kept it afloat and she prided herself in her work around the government.

A few months ago, an artifact had been uncovered a few miles south of Stonehenge. It was something the researchers had never come across before. The strange markings were in an alphabet that had never been discovered before which made its value soar even higher. Stumbling upon it may be have been the beginning of the climb to the pinnacle of her career. All she needed to do was decipher the meaning of the runes inscribed on the stone and figure out what the artifact did.

The more determined Laelette became to crack the puzzle of this latest enigma, the more strained her relationships with her friends had become. Especially after the secret of 'him' really being a her and the scandal that followed afterword. It had driven the rift between her and her friends further apart.

And then there was the whole 'immortality' thing that always weighed heavily on the back of Laelette's mind. That she would always outlive everyone she loved, why she could never marry someone who's life was insignificant and ephemeral. In the rivers of time, she would remain unchanged and pristine while everyone withered and decayed before her eyes. She both cursed and praised her inability to die. How it had happened was a funny thing. Incredibly stupid, but nonetheless hilarious.

After the events of her first year as a fledgling mage, Laelette had opted to keep the Philosopher's Stone rather than hand it over to a man she knew was quite off his rocker. A simple little white lie stating that the stone had been destroyed in the process of defeating Quirrell was enough to placate the headmaster. And no one had really questioned about what had become of said artifact. Not even Ron or Hermione had known she had kept the amber-red stone of eternal life. It had lain forgotten at the bottom of her trunk and it seemed it would like there only to collect dust.

Following her first year was the incident with the Chamber of Secrets. Everyone had thought she had gone a little mad when she made claims about hearing a voice in the walls which in turn, had pitted her against the rest of the school of whether or not she was the Heir of Slytherin. Of course Laelette wasn't crazy and it had really been a basilisk slithering through the school's plumbing system. Everyone else simply couldn't understand parseltongue but her.

It wasn't until the final message claiming that the 'true Heir of Slytherin' had dragged her so called 'best' friend's younger sister into the Chamber. Its entrance was hidden below the second floor girl's bathroom which was either absolutely bonkers or absolutely genius.

The useless Professor Lockhart had proven himself an utter fraud when he attempted to obliviate two thirds of the 'golden trio' and ended up wiping his own mind. Then the wall collapsed, locking her into the chamber to face whatever monster was in there. Which so happened to be a thousand year old basilisk under the control of a /MEMORY/ of Voldemort when he was sixteen or so. Practically single handedly (if you don't count a nosy sorting hat and a flaming chicken), Laelette had slain the basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor and used its fang to destroy a diary (later she had learned it had been a horcrux).

Twelve year old logic had her thinking the stone would behave not dissimilar to a bezoar and it would purge the volatile venom coursing in her veins. So she did the kingpin of stupidly brazen ideas and swallowed the Philosopher's Stone.

Making matters worse, Fawkes had come along and cried on the wound where the basilisk fang had pierced her. All she remembered at the time, was the agony. It had been blurry. Having been unconscious for a full week, the St Mungo's staff had been unable to figure out what had exactly happened in that chamber.

To this day, no one knows what the reaction between basilisk venom, phoenix tears and an 'unknown' magical compound had reacted had done to her. But Lily knew, vaguely. She had been there in that chamber when it happened. She had been reborn, almost as a complete magical construct her her essence and soul to inhabit. To the rest of the world, she remained to be a normal, albeit very powerful witch.

At last the runed arch crackled to life, drawing Lily out of her nostalgia powered reverie. No one else was around to document such a momentous occasion. And she was too paranoid at this point to consider writing down her progress with the strange arch.

She studied what the online portal looked like. With the arch now active. She could see some snow, some trees. It could just be leading to the mountains somewhere in the realm of Earth. Or it could send her to an entirely new world or even universe.

"Just in case I don't come back, I've brought everything I think I might need to survive in another world, or the wilderness at any case.

Without looking back, Laelette Evans-Potter leaped into the gate!

A/N: I know, it might be a little annoying that it's a short chapter, but hey, it's something to look forward to.