Dyslexia: Language disability, spelling and grammar mistakes await you ;)

Sum: Dalilah Evans Potter has been given a choice after death. Of age and Horcruxless, she is going to give her twin soul/brother, Harry James Potter, a fighting chance. Dumbledore really shouldn't have left him alone the summer after fourth year. Twice the Potter, twice the luck. Bit of crack, bit of AU, and bit time travel. 5th year.

AN: I am writing this to break my writer's block with something new and fun. Continuation will be based off of genuine interest expressed in reviews, I care more about feedback than followers or favs, as your opinions get my muses muttering and twittering.

Chapter 1 - Twice Dead

"Why am I in my dorm room?" Dalilah asked the shadow figure hovering at the door.

Well, she said dorm room but it wasn't exactly the same, it was shrouded in white mist.

"You are at a crossroads, Ms. Potter, Master of Death."

She tilted her head, "Are you Death, from the story of the Three Brothers?"

"Yes, I am Death."

"So am I your master?"

It laughed. "No," it chuckled, "you are master of your own death. And I am here because I have an offer to make you."

She put her hands on her hips, "Alright, let's hear it."

Dalilah had just walked willingly to own execution, it wasn't like she had anything else to lose at this point.

"Three paths lie before you. You can pass on, be with your parents, your godfather, or you can return to your life."

She thought about her life, the Death Eaters waiting like a pack of rabid hyenas and the misery that awaited at the castle.

Yes, her best and only friend, Susan Bones was there waiting for her too, but…

"Will I have to defeat Voldemort again. I know I missed Nagini."

"No, my dear, with or without you, the war will end in your favour. You see, in your world, you were not the Chosen One."

"Excuse me?"

Death seemed to smile at her, "Tom Riddle did not like your mother. He feared her, and for that, he sought to destroy you all, while the one the prophecy spoke of lived on to face his own tragedies."

"Great. That's just great. Bloody wonderful. Did Dumbledore know?"

"Naturally."

She gritted her teeth, "So what is the third option?"

"In another world, an alternate dimension, one might say, you were born a boy, Harry James Potter, and he was the Chosen One. His fate mirrored your own. There were a few differences, of course, but the core of what befell you will befall him."

This saddened her, she wouldn't wish her fate on anyone, not even Voldysmorts. "So what do you expect of me? To raise him after our parents die."

"No, as the time stream goes, he is entering his fifth year. You would be twins of the soul, siblings in flesh. You would both have what neither of you has had; true family."

"Would I be able to save Sirius?" she asked.

Death bobbed its hodded head, "You would be as you were when you died, the choices you will make would be your own."

As she was when she died?

Did that mean old enough to adopt her brother? She was seventeen after all.

"You must choose now, Ms. Potter."

She squared her shoulders. She sent a silent prayer to Susan. Her friend was strong, and if this Harry was like Dalilah, then she knew where she was needed most.

"I choose family."

"You chose life," Death answered.

Everything went white, then pitch black.

"Are you going cry, Potter," Dudley taunted, "Going to cry for your mommy."

Harry lurched to his feet, but before he could so much as pull his wand from his pocket the full weight of a body careened into him.

But that didn't hurt nearly as much as the blinding pain in his forehead.

Dimly, he heard Dudley and his gang exclaim and run away.

The weight left his chest and he was left holding a hand to his forehead. Gentle hands pushed back his hair and helped him sit up.

He didn't open his eyes, he was pretty sure the scar was bleeding.

Merlin did it hurt.

Those gentle hands again, and a kind voice said, "Let me see, Harry, it is Harry, right? Merlin, it's on your face. Well, at least no one was trying to pull your shirt down."

Confused, Harry lowered his hand and blinked at the person kneeling in front of him.

"Mum?" he asked, completely bewildered.

The girl with braided red hair tsked, "Yeah, yeah, I look just like my mother, except for the eyes. My eyes are my father's."

Harry blinked at her, her eyes were hazel, brownish laced with blue-grey and just a hint of green.

She went on, her hands on either side of his head as she checked his scar, "You must get the same, because damn, if you don't look like our father, except for the eyes. You really lucked out, huh? Mum had those beautiful emerald eyes. I think everyone was disappointed I didn't get them, myself included."

She pulled back from him, crossing her legs as she sat in the woodchips, "It looks like it died. Which is a good thing, it means you don't have to die."

Harry was so many levels of confused he hadn't the words.

The girl seemed to notice because she held out her hand, "I'm Dalilah Evans Potter, I am delighted to meet you, little bro."

His mind went blank.

I have a sister!?

He took her hand, and nearly fell on top of her when she jerked him into a hug. "Um?" was all he managed pushing back.

She let go of him with a laugh, "Sorry, sorry. I bet you have a load of questions. Ask away. And your name is Harry James Potter, right?"

He nodded then asked, "You're my sister? I have a sister? Nobody ever said…"

"Do you believe in time travel?"

He nodded again.

"Well, this isn't exactly time travel, but it sort of is."

He didn't know what to say to that.

Noting his expression, she went on, "In my world, I died, Voldemort being the one to kill me of course, it was a thing, the seventh year blows, and when I died, because of the screwed up magic, I was able to choose to live again, and I choose to come here to your world. Death said you needed family. So I time travelled, but I also world travelled. See, I'm you, from another universe. You know, the 'what if this happened', well, I'm from the 'what if you were born a girl' universe."

This explanation was both mind-blowing and somehow reassuring. Harry had never stopped being astounded by what magic could do. And seeing as no one had yet expressed the limits to the world's magic, the idea that if time travel was real then so were alternate universes made sense too. And also the chances of it happening to him, or what amounted to him through some freak act of magic, that, that made some amount of sense.

"So you're me, not my sister?"

"Death told me I'm your soul twin. But in this universe, we are now rightfully siblings."

"Right," Harry said, then he frowned, "did the Dursleys keep you under the stairs?"

She frowned, "They used to lock me up in there for hours when I burnt breakfast. It isn't my damn fault I'm so small. They let me out with the whole letter fiasco. But I don't really like to talk about that," she gave him a look, "which is why you brought it up."

Harry noted how small she really was. She was very pretty, but small for a girl who said she was in her seventh year.

"You're seventeen?"

"Yep," she said, then seemed to think about it, "Do you think I could pass for fifteen?"

He blinked, "Sure, I guess, I mean, why?"

"No one knows about me in this world," she remarked, then she smiled wickedly, "and I owe Dumbledore some karma."

"What?"

"Harry, how would you like to know what the bloody hell is going on?"

A beat, and his answer was simply, "Yes."

Her smile grew, "How about leaving the Dursleys for good?"
"Yes."

"And getting back at Dumbles for leaving you in the dark all summer after Cedric died?"

Some deep joy went flared to life in his heart. "Yes."

She stood and offered him a hand up, "Then let's go, brother."

He took her hand.

He didn't really know why he trusted this stranger who came out of nowhere, but he did. He trusted Dalilah Evans Potter more than anyone he had ever met in his life, and only partially because she looked like a smaller clone of their mother.

Dalilah was feeling a bit reckless, okay, a lot reckless, but she was feeling giddy, alive. And a bit vindictive about the whole killing herself thing now that she knew it wasn't just meant for her.

And she hadn't expected to like Harry as much as she did. He hadn't said much as she told him about the prophecy and the reason his scar had been hurting, or the Horcruxes, or Dumbledore's stupid plan that relied on Snape and her both being broken-hearted idiots.

And it wasn't so much that Harry didn't say much, it is what he responded to, where he got mad, where he got sad. When he reached out to grip her hand, she knew, she just knew.

She knew him, she knew he was family and would always be there for her, just like she would always be there for him.

They were orphans, heroes who had been poorly used, and what they both wanted, what nobody seemed to get, was that they just wanted to be included, wanted the best for the people they loved.

They wanted, quite simply, to belong.

Not Dalilah! Not my daughter! No!

Her mother's voice came out of nowhere, and Dalilah spun, wand raised.

"Dementors!" Harry exclaimed.

But Dalilah had already summoned her Patronus, her doe chasing down the cloaked fiends.

"Damn Umbridge."

"Umbridge?" Harry asked.

"Our new DADA professor," she answered, "she's a piece of work. Come on, you need to pack. As I'm technically of age and far enough away from your house, you shouldn't get into trouble, but I still want to get out of here before Mrs. Figg catches on to us."

"Mrs. Figg, the cat lady?"

"She's a squib."

"Really, why didn't she ever say anything?"

"Because Dumbledore is a well intentioned monster, go ahead, I don't want them to see me in case someone thinks to check their memories."

Harry nodded, and jogged down the street to the house. He was out in less than fifteen minutes, Uncle Vernon bellowing at him.

She heard Harry shout back, "You can go get stuffed! You fat horrible man! This isn't my home and never has been!"

Dalilah smiled to herself as she felt the blood ward fall.

Dumbledore was going to lose his mind.

Harry came to her, trunk in one hand, an owl cage in the other.

"Hedwig!" she exclaimed.

The snowy owl hooted in greeting, and Dalilah felt tears spill down her cheeks.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, as he passed her the cage.

"Yes," she choked out, "yes, I'm fine, I'm better than fine."

She met his gaze, hazel to emerald, both of them reflections of their long lost parents, she held out her hand, "Come away with me?"

He took her hand, his grip firm, "Please."

Seconds before she disapparated them out, she heard pops of several people apparating in. She could have sworn she heard Dumbledore's voice call out frantically, "Harry! Harry, my boy!?"

"Too late," Dalilah whispered as she tore Harry and Hedwig away into the night sky.

AN: Reactions, thoughts, ideas, or concerned rabbits? Pretty, pretty please?