Summary: Harry's universe is turned upside down when he is accidentally transported into another universe. Only thing worse for Harry other than Voldemort, is the new situation he is thrust into, and parents who he had desperately longed to have, appear nothing like he had imagined. AU.

A/N: It's set late during Harry's seventh year and it is very AU.

Disclaimer. I'm not JKR, I don't own HP, and I'm not making profit out of this story. So if you sue me, a thousand baby kittens will die a horrible death.

Prologue

Under a dark and starry night, the moon shone onto a forgotten church. It overlooked a quaint Muggle town where its tiny houses were filled with pinpricks of warm light drifting from their cottage windows. The church was in a bad state of disrepair: its stained glass windows shattered to pieces and its inside filled with nesting birds and rats. An owl hooted in the church tower where once a magnificent bronze bell hung in all its glory.

But on the church's decaying roof, a man with a long white beard who was wearing a dark travelling cloak and purple boots, sat quietly on the ledge, as though this was a completely natural thing to do. He sucked on a sherbet lemon as he watched the stars above twinkling happily. It was certainly a strange sight to behold for any Muggle to witness, let alone for a wizard and witch. However, Albus Dumbledore wanted to experience a bird's eye view of the little town beneath.

Though, this strange expedition had its purpose.

There was a pop to his side. A man tall like Dumbledore and just as old, sat beside him. This wizard wore a crimson cloak and magnificent embroidered blue robes. He pulled down the long hood, sniffing the fresh air. He had a silver goatee and moustache with pointy ends. His slick white hair was pulled into a ponytail. His piercing grey eyes were bright like the stars. While his eyebrows were bushier than Dumbledore could ever manage.

"Well, hello Albus," started the wizard with the crimson cloak. "This certainly is not the place I would've expected to have a chat. But alas…"

"Alas…" replied Dumbledore. He swung his feet a little as his robes fluttered in the breeze. "Would you like a Sherbet lemon, Gellert?"

Gellert Grindelwald flicked a bushy eyebrow. "Still like them after all this time? I wouldn't mind one myself." The wizard helped himself to a sweet from the paper bag Dumbledore held out.

Just like the old days, thought Dumbledore.

"You've cleaned up well, Gellert. I hope I have not exhausted you too much in your interesting exploits and adventures. I particularly amazed that you've managed to tear apart so many foundations in such a short period of time."

"Ahh yes, but I have to admit that my skills have rusted a little," he chortled, like it had been fairly simple thing to do; destroying a village. Like his sixty years in prison had been a mere holiday.

Dumbledore frowned. "Well, you must gain Voldemort's attention… but tell me, have you thought of any plans as of yet? Do not get carried away, Gellert. You know your true mission."

Grindelwald looked aghast. "Of course I haven't forgotten!"

Dumbledore wasn't so sure about this. Using Grindelwald had been a risk from the very first day. There was always a chance that he would gain power without helping The Order of the Phoenix. But he had to take a chance with his once best friend and admirer. He looked at him grimly through his half-moon spectacles.

Grindelwald sat with his face well composed, staring right ahead to the little town below them. "Why? Why have you helped me escape prison and why are you helping me to gain power?" he asked, looking at Dumbledore from the corner of his eyes.

"Because you wouldn't be of any use to me if you did not have it."

Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. "Really, is that all Albus? It seems to me I'm doing the greater good I was put in prison for."

Dumbledore ignored his words, letting them wash over him. "You must stay in England now… that is the only way Voldemort will realise the challenge you pose."

"I've already started the transfer of my sources," he said curtly.

"Good," stated Dumbledore.

Grindelwald sniffed loudly, but did not press further with the details. Instead, Dumbledore knew this wizard was itching to ask him something that had been on his mind since his escape. "Abus, do you still have it?"

"Why is that such a concern to you, Gellert?"

"I've heard rumours that - why - that you lost the wand to… to Tom Riddle years ago."

Dumbledore did not answer for awhile. "Two years before Hogwarts closed."

Grindelwald's eyes lit up for a moment. "And you survived? This Riddle did not take over the school?"

"By chance I survived, yes. I kept him out of Hogwarts for as long as I could. But by then, the Muggle-borns were dwindling in numbers. They pulled out one by one. Then the Chamber opened according to Voldemort's plan and the rest of them were tragically murdered. I lost over one hundred students that bloody night." The shock of it, still froze his heart.

"Now Hogwarts is closed, the wards are down and dark magic surrounds it. What most wizards don't know is that Voldemort had taken over the school soon after with the elder wand in hand. I wasn't there when it happened, I was recovering." I am still too weak since Tom nearly defeated me, Dumbledore thought, though he would never say it, especially to Gellert. "Hogwarts is the Dark Lord's hiding place," he said this calmly, though the bitterness still seeped through every pore in his body.

Grindelwald fiddled with his goatee. "I knew that not all the truth about Hogwarts had made it out. The Ministry of Magic has an iron fist here. What else? Tell me more about life here? There are too many rumours abound on the continent."

Dumbledore nodded sullenly. "The ministry is a complete farce! They are too embroiled between themselves; morals and ethics have been destroyed in the last two decades in order to fight Voldemort. Rufus Scrimgeour has been the minister for the last decade. He is ruthless in his capabilities, growing more paranoid by the day. He has his own elite Aurors to protect him. Thomas MacCloud, Head of the Auror department is very much powerful yet merciless wizard, some say that he is imbalanced and cruel. Dolores Umbridge is the Senior Undersecretary and Head of Interrogation and the Prevention of Crime and Sedition squad. She abolished laws, allowing Aurors to use the unforgivables. She's given the Aurors power to search and violate people's privy and to interrogate any way possible."

"My word!"

"My word, indeed… There are witch hunts. Say one word against the ministry and they'll label you a Death Eater and cart you away to Azkaban. Then they'll brainwash your family. If you don't comply, you're imprisoned as well for aiding the Dark Lord.

"In order to protect us, Scrimgeour says, we must change our ways. Match up to Voldemort with the same use of dark magic. 'Fight the dark with the dark is the only way we will win.' Utter madness. I have since cut away most ties with them. I do not interfere. I have the Order now, with thousands of members and still growing." Dumbledore waited for the wizard to digest his words. A winter breeze whooshed past them.

"Gellert, we must remain in between the chaos here. You must remain between them: Between Voldemort and the ministry."

"But you want me to destroy-"

"Destroy, ruin foundations yes, to kill no. Give Voldemort the right illusion."

"You've grown strange in you're old years."

Dumbledore curved his lips into a small smile. "Perhaps."

"It has been like the last sixty years have been a wisp of smoke."

Dumbledore sighed. "The past is the past, and now times have grown more desperate."

"Yes, desperate enough to pluck me out from the darkest of dungeons, eh?" Grindelwald chortled.

"I cannot battle him, Gellert." Dumbledore suddenly looked frail. "I cannot die until there is someone strong enough to fight him... stronger than me… working for the light. Voldemort damaged me. I am half the man I was long ago."

Grindelwald looked away, as though those words uttered were shameful and humiliating. There was a long pause before another question was raised.

"Do you want me to kill him?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Try to avoid it."

A wrinkled smile curled on Grindelwald's lips. "How interesting… after all the trouble he's caused thus far? Then why this far fetched plan?"

"I'm worried that you do not have the skills to match up to Lord Voldemort. Besides that is not your job to do it."

"Oh I wasn't talking about that fellow, Dear Albus I was talking about the boy!"

Pausing for a second or two, Dumbledore scratched the crook of his nose. "First you will deal with the plan set out step by step…"

"There's something your not telling me about Harry Potter is there? Is he the boy who is meant to kill-"

"There are plenty of things which you do not need to know about Harry Potter."

"The prophecy then?

"What of it?"

"Is there more than one?" He popped the question still hoping to ruse Dumbledore into answering.

"Our conversation should end here, Gellert."

Grindelwald looked disappointed. "Very well! Until next we meet." And with a pop he vanished once more.

Dumbledore sighed, he tapped his new wand as he stared at the same spot Grindelwald had sat. It would never match the power and strength of the elder wand.

But suddenly, he saw something glittering on a broken slate and he snatched it up. Dumbledore chuckled to himself as his eyes raked over Grindelwald's gold calling card. On it a black 'G" scrolled upon it swirled as though it were alive and writhing.

Satisfied with the evening's events Dumbledore pocketed the calling card and pulled out a tattered old note which looked as though it had been folded and crushed, then flattened many times. In neat handwriting scrolled across the piece of paper were the words: I did what you asked me to do, yet you've betrayed me.

Dumbledore closed the letter he had treasured for long. He treasured the words for its meaning, for its silent threat. He traced out the tear stains. Dumbledore knew his day would come. But until then, he had plenty of work to do.

So! Tell me what you think... please review.