WARNING: READ PREVIOUS CHAPTER (I fixed up the beginning of my story accordingly as I was upgraded from a twelvie)

Oh dear. I did hope to add more on to the second half of the split buuuuuut, my brain doesn't like me right now. It did end up longer though, but not as long as I wanted - I'm aiming for 5k at least next chapter (please don't kill me).

The overall plot is the same but quite a lot of it was changed, and I hope the writing got better.

The last thing she saw before she passed out was the flaming plumage of Fawkes as he landed on her shoulder, claws holding on tightly.

She felt the odd sensation of floating for a moment, bright purple and pink sparks going off under her eyelids before the pain hit. Her bones felt like they were on fire, muscles being stretched under pressures and forces of unimaginable strength. Her face felt as though it may concave, eyeballs squeezing themselves into her skull.

Organs shriveled, expanded, and then decided to tap dance through her entire body. Her spine seemed to rearrange every vertebrae before stabbing her limbs through and through before sliding through flesh back to their original position.

It seemed like eons of agonizing, unbearable pain, her back arching impossible, fingers and toes frozen in agony before it felt as though she had slammed into a concrete wall, and soon the odd floating sensation returned and her mind knotted in confusion as to whether the torture had actually happened.

You survived. A faint air of surprise changed her entire demeanor. Callen was a proud person, and Death's disbelief ignited her famous temper and ire, but she soon relaxed when she felt his – her? It's? – amusement.

Suddenly, a bright white flash of light assaulted her eyeballs, and she realized with a start that she had not specified where or what time she wanted to return to. A brief panic set in before Death was quick to reassure her.

It's alright. A rattling chuckle. Have more faith, master.

Callen felt a weight lift off her shoulders, and opened eyes that she had unconsciously clenched shut throughout the journey. The Gryffindor could feel herself falling and instinctively landed on the balls of her feet, crouching to support the rest of her body as she fell.

Eyes quickly adjusting to the new environment, she quickly took in the large room and long mahogany table on which she had landed. A table lined with people, wizards and witches, all of whom had their wands pointed at her. She pushed down the rising panic with ease of practice, forcing her recently honed senses to assess the dangers present.

With a start, Cal realized that she recognized many of the people around her, if not by name, then by face. The Prewett twins and Molly and Arthur Weasley. Alice and Frank Longbottom. A younger version of Dumbledore. Alastor Moody, Snape, Sirius, Remus, and… her parents. Lily and James Potter. Eyes wide, the raven-haired teen could see the slight swell of Lily's stomach.

They were all watching her in suspicion, and were right to do so. It wasn't everyday a girl dropped down from the middle of nowhere on what seemed to be a strategy meeting, what with the battle plans strewn all around her.

Behind the distrust in their eyes, no small amount of surprise was present, and she wondered what she must have looked like to them. A skinny girl nearing eighteen, erring on the short side (as loath as she was to admit) with raven black hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Bright but desolate emerald green eyes that were wary and sharp, assessing every twitch, every movement.

Her clothing was made for battle, for easy movement and some protection. A black, sleeveless dragon-hide vest and combat pants with black dragon-hide boots, and fingerless gloves. A deep purple cloak symbolizing leadership, attached to the epaulette of the vest, which fell down her back in the shape of a triangle where it was clasped at her left hip with a gold broach, the symbol for the Deathly Hallows.

Hearing a soft trill, she straightened and looked up to find the cause of what she assumed to be the past – her past's – Order's hesitancy in attacking her. Soft lips curved up slightly as Callen lifted her right arm for the phoenix to land on her forearm, where her wand holster was set.

Jumping off the table she did not miss the tightening of wand hands nor the narrowing of eyes around the room. The room itself was large and spacious, clearly one of a wealthy, most likely noble, family. Although simple, with cream-coloured walls, a fireplace, the long table and its chairs the only furnishings of the room, the gold platings and expensive artworks highlighted the worth of the space.

It wasn't surprising that Moody was the first to break the silence, gruff voice penetrating through the tense atmosphere. "This room was warded. Who are you, girl?"

Brushing off the slight irritation of being addressed as 'girl', she pulled up her left sleeve to show that she didn't have the Dark Mark, before facing Dumbledore as the leader. The Headmaster was staring at Fawkes, who had relocated to her shoulder. In return, the phoenix trilled again, this time a calming, soft tune. Dumbledore nodded and wands lowered, though the terse bodies did not relax.

Callen stroked the bird's plumage softly while staring the powerful man in the eye, both with the knowledge that a phoenix did not choose their partners – for they did not have masters – lightly. The ones that they chose had to have pure intentions, and just morals. Dumbledore's tensed shoulders dropped and he sat back down at the head of the table, prompting slight, albeit confused relaxation throughout the rest of the room.

The newest occupant of the room licked her lips before addressing the room as a whole. "I'm no threat. I'm here to help you with the most knowledge of the other side that you can get."

It was Kingsley, this time that spoke. She noticed that he had not yet obtained the scar that would, in later life, cut from behind his right ear down to his lower back. "How do we know that you're telling the truth?" His wand, though lowered, was evidently close at hand.

Cal tilted her head slightly in though, before spinning, ignoring the wands that again shot up to face her. She pointed at Remus, Sirius and her father in turn. "Moony, Padfoot… Prongs." Her finger shook as it pointed to Pettigrew, and her lip curled as she snarled. "Wormtail. The little rat that's not on your side."

James was quick to defend his friend. He growled at her, wand unwavering as he rose to form a physical barrier between her and the rat. "We can't believe her. We don't even know who she is."

The teen pondered her next words carefully, before slowly speaking directly to Dumbledore. "Reserve your judgement if you must, but I have my reasons for this."

Moody looked unconvinced. "Care to explain these… reasons?" He spat out the word as if it were poison.

Knowing that she was in a precarious position, Callen took a slow breath before replying. "It is… a long story. Professor Dumbledore can scan me to make sure that I have not lied but…" She glanced quickly at James and his obviously pregnant wife. "It may be best told in private."

The Potter scion immediately retorted, voice laced with steel. "Whatever you're going to say you can say now. They may be your last words so may as well have a large audience."

The girl looked at her father before staring at Dumbledore pleadingly, but his eyes this time were unforgiving, and she knew that she had no choice.

Wearily running a hand through matted hair, Callen attempted to start her story. "Before I begin, you should know that Voldemort," the flinches were less prominent, she noticed, "Is a half-blood. His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, named after his rich muggle father and maternal grandfather, who was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself."

The shock was extremely clear in the room. It was obvious that most of the room didn't know about this. Dumbledore looked at her, glittering azure eyes seemingly piercing her soul. Fawkes nudged her head supportively, and she felt the tenseness that had returned slowly fade.

"Who are you?" demanded her d- James, she reminded herself. In this world, he wasn't her father.

At this point, Callen had minimal options. She could attempt to create some vague backstory as to who she was and live out her whole life in this time as a lie in constant fear of everything crashing down if, when, they noticed the inconsistencies in her story. She could pretend to not know anything and lay low, trying to assist from the sidelines, though at this point she doubted that was possible.

Or alternatively, she could tell them the full story and get everything over and done with. The future would undeniably change to an unrecognizable time for the time traveller, but the question was: for the better or the worse?

Cal, resignedly rubbed her too-old eyes, before looking up a bleak expression. Standing up, Callen faced the fireplace, not daring to look at the faces of the people she knew but didn't at the same time. "In a few months Callen Rose Potter will be born, a day after Neville Longbottom."

Protective hands framed Lily's belly, and Alice noticeably shifted to lean against her husband. "What does that have to do with anything?" hissed Sirius, as impatient as ever. The girl ignored him, seemingly lost in some haunted vision.

"On Halloween, when Callen is one, Voldemort will come knocking on the door of the Potter home where they placed Peter Pettigrew as their secret keeper in an attempt to evade the Dark Lord, a last minute change from Pa – Sirius. James and Lily will die saving their daughter. When Voldemort attempts to kill Cal, the curse will rebound because of the force of Lily's love of her daughter, through an ancient Blood Magic of sacrifice. From that point on Callen Rose Potter will be proclaimed as the Girl-Who-Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

"Sirius arrives and in grief will attack Peter, only for the little rat to yell out that Sirius was the secret keeper and had given up James and Lily to be killed. Peter will then kill thirteen muggles and chop off his own finger before transforming into a rat and escaping through the gutters. Sirius was – will be thrown into Azkaban without a trial."

The girl struggled to contain her grief as she listed names that she had seen die before her. For her. She knew that she was mixing up all the tenses but at that moment could not bring herself to care at all.

"Fast forward ten years. Callen is placed in the house of Lily's sister because of the blood wards that keep her safe. The Dursley family, her blood relatives don't accept her and she is frequently verbally and physically abused, treated as a freak, as a slave, as – " her voice broke, and the Saviour took a small breath, eyes fixated on a blank space on the wall.

"She goes to Hogwarts, and becomes the youngest Seeker in a century." Lips upturn slightly at that inconsequential detail, and James feels a small burst of pride that it was his daughter that achieved that.

"Fast forward to her fourth year. By that time, she has faced Voldemort personally and saved the Philosopher's Stone, faced a Basilisk and again battled Voldemort in the form of a younger, memory Tom Riddle trapped in a horcrux. She has saved her godfather from execution, repelled over a hundred Dementors in one go and almost managed to catch Peter Pettigrew alongside Sirius and Remus, who is her Defence teacher. In her fourth year she is the fourth competitor called out in the Triwizard Tournament, her name placed by one of Voldemort's cronies.

"She survives all the tasks, including facing a dragon and a sphinx, only to find that the cup is in fact a portkey that transports her to the grave of Tom Riddle Senior, where she watches Cedric, the Hogwarts champion and a… friend, die before her. She is tortured and her blood is taken by Pettigrew for a ritual to form a body for Voldemort. He calls his loyal Death Eaters and the two duel. The spirits of her parents appear from their wands, as they share two cores from the same phoenix, Fawkes."

The said phoenix trilled sadly, and Callen drew comfort from his warmth on her shoulder.

"She eventually escapes with Cedric's body and portkeys back to Hogwarts, where it was discovered that Alastor Moody, their DADA teacher for that year, was in fact Barty Crouch Jr who had escaped from Azkaban, had killed his father and polyjuiced as Moody." The said man was gritting his teeth, muttering something under his breath that sounded alarmingly like 'constant vigilance'.

"The next year Cal is estranged from half of the Wizarding community and befouled in the papers along with Dumbledore because of their refusal to believe that Voldemort had returned. They have a dud DADA teacher from the Ministry and Callen forms and leads her own secret club to self-teach themselves Defence. At the end of the year she receives a false vision that Sirius had been captured by Voldemort.

"She travels to the Department of Mysteries with a few friends, and they are welcomed by a group of Death Eaters. Soon, members of the Order of the Phoenix, which was regrouped that year, join her and she watches her godfather die by the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange, falling through the veil. She tries to torture Lestrange, but lacks emotional stability. Callen then encounters Voldemort again. He and Dumbledore duel, before she is possessed by Voldemort.

"After Dumbledore holds off Voldemort, she is sent back to Hogwarts where Dumbledore eventually tells her of a prophecy that caused Voldemort to attack the Potter home." Her voice softens to a trance-like state, recounting words forever engrained into her mind.

"Either must die at the hand of the other…. For neither can live while the other survives…" Visibly shaking herself from her thoughts she continues with her melancholic tale.

"The next year she is educated about horcruxes and is informed by Dumbledore that Voldemort created seven in his attempt at immortality. Callen has destroyed one, in her second year, and Dumbledore has destroyed another in that year, at the price of his health. They go on various trips through his memories to learn more about Riddle and attempt to recover any information about the location of the horcruxes, as they must be destroyed for any hope of Voldemort's destruction.

"At the end of the year Dumbledore is killed by Severus Snape…" The Gryffindor paused to wet dry lips, but under alarmed stared quickly explained, "but under Dumbledore's orders as he was about to die anyway."

Callen swallowed harshly. She didn't want to explain her seventh year. "Cal doesn't attend her last year at Hogwarts. She travels with her two best friends and hunts down Horcruxes, on the run. She was – is – captured, tortured, escaped… she led – leads – a war. Almost everyone she cares for… dies. She kills Voldemort. The war is won." Last minute, she omitted certain details that were too soon for her to tell.

She knew that they had all noticed that the seventh year was considerably shortened and edited, but nothing was said. Raising her eyes, she was shocked when she saw the entirety of the room staring at her in shock and disbelief. Quite a number of people were crying, even her parents. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was non-existent, and she knew that he had swept her mind to validate her claims.

"And you are…" he prodded, but his sad eyes showed that he knew.

"The Girl-Who-Lived. The Saviour," she almost spat out that word, "Of the Wizarding World. The Girl-Who-Conquered. The Blessed One. The Cursed One. Callen Rose Potter."

Then she laughed bitterly, and finished her story. "After the war ends, Callen decides that the losses are too great. She had lost her best friends, her closest companions, her most loved teachers. As she had collected the Deathly Hallows, none of them by choice, she is now known as the Master of Death, and decides that, with the help of Death, she would not bring those she loved back to life, because then they would be in eternal torment."

Callen stared straight at Dumbledore as she mentions the Deathly Hallows, and by the expression on his face she knew that he recognized the term, the title that he once strove to receive.

"Instead, she would travel back in time and save the world to come, but at a cost of leaving everything behind and letting her own world disintegrate."

Callen smirked, but it turned out more of a grimace. "And here I am. I do hope that this world is worth saving."

And... finite. Apologies for grammatical errors, please do correct me, I know I'm not perfect. (Living in Australia using an American program with English not my first language I do get really confused sometimes... heh...)

Please review and criticize! I'll be responding to as many reviews as possible next chapter - please comment (if you're a user) if you prefer replies as a PM or in an A/N/

Also: PAIRINGS! Any suggestions would be wonderful (I'm leaning towards Sirius cause it's just so bloody adorable but completely open for anything)

JC, out