Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Hey all! It's been a while huh? This is something I've been toying around with now and again, ever since writing Heterochromic last year. I received many mixed reviews on Heterochromic, for obvious reasons, and I was generally pleased with how the story turned out. That being said, this is an... alternative version of a sort... of Heterochromic. It will be longer, and more in depth. So to speak. It will NOT end now Heterochromic ended (you know what I'm talking about), and for those of you who were a little confused with the ending, I think eventually those questions you had will be answered with this story.

Oh, while reading Heterochromic isn't necessarily required to understand this, doing so will help a lot with some of the more subtle topics in Heterochromic Alternative.

Lets get to it.

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Heterochromic Alternative

Prologue

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The bright flash of light. The huge surge of power. The thrum of magic. The smell of ozone and static. It was all there, just as Mum had theorized and I later hypothesized.

But the pain!

She never once theorized about the pain.

God damnit, Mum! You could have fucking warned me!

The pain was only a distraction from the heavy disorientation, though. While the pain was constant and thankfully just below tolerable –Hell, I'm pretty sure I suffered worse from Quidditch injuries— the disorientation was harsh. It was like the worse instance of apparating, while being shot through a particularly wonky Flu line, upside down.

While pissed.

Don't tell mum I drank. It was on a dare with my friends and I never have since.

I wanted to throw up, but the pain held the urge at bay while I retched and coughed, my skin singing with pain and frayed nerves. My sight was blurred, my ears rang with a piercing noise, my arms and legs trembled with tension and pain, and my mouth burned. I thought, somewhere in the back of my mind, that even my appendix must have been feeling it.

Whatever an appendix is. I actually don't know; I just heard Dad mention it once.

"F-fuck!" I groaned, finally able to draw breath. It seemed like the best thing to say at the moment.

I had no idea where I was. I didn't know if I was alone and safe, or in the middle of Muggle-freaking-London. I honestly didn't really care at that point. All I cared about was the buzzing in my head and the pins-and-needles in my legs and arms.

"God damn it!" I hissed in pain, trying to fill my lungs with air. Finally being able to feel my limbs, though they still throbbed painfully, I collapsed and curled into a ball. It seemed to lessen the pain slightly, and I reveled in it. It also seemed to help the dizziness and disorientation, so I concentrated on taking deep breaths until I could see and hear again.

When I finally could, I found myself staring at… myself.

Or, it would have been, if I didn't know exactly it was who I was actually staring at.

Long black hair, slightly disheveled from sleep. A thin, angular face, punctuated with smooth cheekbones and a round chin. And two eyes; one a bright, crystalline blue and the other, a deep emerald green. Without a doubt, I knew who this girl was.

It was Astoria Lily Greengrass. My mother.

Only… she looked incredibly young. I myself was going on sixteen years next year, and she didn't look much older than I did. Mum would often tell me how I looked almost the same as she did as a girl, and I never quite believed her. I mean, she was gorgeous. Sure we had the same hair, and the same facial features, and the same body type. Hell, even the same blue-and-green eyes!

I never quite understood how she had blue-and-green eyes. Grandma and Grandpa both have blue eyes, and her sister, ██████,also had blue eyes. But Astoria, just to be different, had blue-and-green eyes. Each a single, different color. I inherited those from her.

But still, I always assumed I would never look as good as she did. But looking at her now, assuming that her spell actually worked the way she theorized it would, I could finally believe it. I really, truly did look just like her. It almost made me cry in relief.

Until I noticed she had a wand pointed directly at my nose.

"Um… H-hi, Mum." I heard myself blurt out. Damn!

Whatever she expected me to say, if anything, it certainly wasn't that. She blinked once. Twice. A third time. And then her wand deviated a quarter of an inch away from the center of my face.

It was just enough.

I whipped out my wand, greatly relieved that it somehow followed me from my own time, and before she could even blink, caught the other in a full-body bind and a silencing charm combination. Usually the two spells took more than a single incantation to cast but… really, Mum was a genius. One of her favorite hobbies was to combine useful spells into single incantation and wand movements. It was an extremely useful skill that was good for duels, cheating on homework... and apparently, binding and gagging your own mother. Seeing the girl who would later be my mother locked and silenced by her own spell hurt, but I knew there was nothing else for it. I had a job to do.

Working quickly, I pushed myself up to my feet and nearly stumbled. Even though I didn't know exactly how the spell worked, I had a pretty good idea. But I was still surprised to find that I had appeared not only in my mother's old room in my grandparent's familial home, in my mother's very own bed. I had stayed there as a girl, so it was easily recognizable.

Not only that, but I was also completely starkers. Totally, absolutely naked. Apparently, while my wand hadn't been affected, it was too much to ask that some panties shouldn't be as well. Lovely. I had loved those little green silk ones.

Shaking off the last vestiges of disorientation, I stepped down from the bed and looked around. The room was just as remember it. Large enough for a teenager, and tastefully decorated with things my mother must have liked as a girl. A desk, a tasteful and utilitarian dresser filled with what I assumed to be clothing. A larger dresser for the bigger pieces of clothing, a vanity I vaguely remembered from when I was a child, and framed photographs of friends and family; her room was almost exactly the same as my own was when I was younger. The realization only served to solidify the fact that the spell had been a success.

Casting a grim glance back to my bound and gagged mother on the bed, I dashed to her dresser and threw it open, feeling around for some clothes to steal – borrow. Success! A pair of jeans and a green, button up blouse. I frowned as I rifled through her underwear drawer, momentarily thrown off by the prospect of raiding my mother's panties, but just as quickly shook off the unease.

I was tired, sore, disoriented, and pissed off. I needed some fucking underwear.

After shimmying into the jeans and pulling my arms through the blouse, I turned towards a largish vanity a few paces away from the dresser. For a moment I gaped in shock. My face was pale, sickly. My eyes, both of my blue-and-green eyes, were bloodshot and heavily lidded. My arms trembled from inside the long, emerald sleeves of my borrowed shirt. The skin of my chest and stomach was an ugly pattern of blue and purple bruises.

Apparently, traveling backward in time took its toll on you physically as well as mentally. Thanks again, Mum.

I started to turn away from the mirror to continue with my tasks, but something around my neck caught my eye. It was a thin, golden chain, draped around my neck. I reached up and pulled back the blouse I appropriated from Mum and was surprised to find a small, golden locket dangling from the chain.

A locket? …What?

Suddenly, even as I stared at the trinket, I remembered; it was my locket! The locket I received from my parents when I was ten years old. It didn't mean all that much to me then, but as I got older I began to understand the significance of such a thing. Mum had slipped a photograph of me, her and Dad in the small locket so that no matter where I go, I would also have a little piece of them with me.

After their deaths, I fully understood why she had given me such a simple gift.

Feeling the burn of tears behind my eyes, I clasped the locket in my fingers tightly. I didn't quite know how it followed me through time, as did my wand, but I wasn't about to complain. It was a little piece of home, and I was happy to have it. I considered opening the locket to see if the photo had survived to trip through time and space, but quickly decide against it. Not only do I not have the time to reminisce, but it was also too soon. I wasn't ready to grieve quite yet.

Stuffing the locket back under my shirt and fastening the buttons, I turned back to my mother. She was still bound on the bed wearing what I assumed to be her pajamas. Who knew Mum wore a Quidditch jersey to bed? I wondered who's it was for a moment, but quickly discarded the thought as unwelcome. I approached the bed, wincing inwardly as Mum's eyes, the only part of her that wasn't frozen, glared at me in... strangely enough... confusion.

Sorry, Mum…

I sighed softly and sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough to reach out and touch the other girl, but I refrained from so. "I know you won't believe me if I told you," I said softly, moving my eyes up and down my mother's form on the bed. She looked so much like me it was eerie. Or maybe I looked like her… whatever. "But you are my mother. Or… you will be. Someday."

Astoria. Mum. Whoever she is right now, looked up at me silently. There was no emotion on her face at all now. No confusion, no anger, just a blank stare.

Fuck.

I sighed again and ran my hand through my tousled hair. I couldn't remember the last time I took a shower. My hair was greasy-feeling and from the feel of my legs and underarms, I desperately needed to shave. "I'm sorry about binding you. I wasn't sure what your reaction to me suddenly appearing in your bed would be." I chuckled humorlessly. "Though I don't think it helped my case that I did bind you. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

She continued to stare at me, her eyes slowly narrowed to angry slits. Her nostrils flared in effort. Damn, I guess she was fighting the bind. Just to be sure, I flicked my wand and renewed the jinx.

I moved my eyes away from her, ashamed of my necessary action. It really hurt to use my mother's own spells against her, but I knew it had to be done. I came back here for a reason, and if anything happened… well…

I hated to think of the consequences.

"My name is Lily," I said suddenly, turning my attention back to Mum. "Lily Astoria. I was born in the year 2000; three years after you graduated Hogwarts." From the severity of her glare, I could tell she wasn't amused. Or that she believed me. That was fine, it didn't matter that much. She wouldn't remember what I told her anyway. I was telling her not for her sake… but for mine. I needed to get this off my chest before I knew I could proceed.

"I am fifteen years old. I was born March First. I am a Pisces. And I love French Fries— it's a Muggle food." I explained unnecessarily. From Astoria's unchanging glare, I didn't think she cared one way or another. But I pressed on. "My favorite color is purple. I am left-handed. My first word was Bubble. I got my first wand when I turned eleven. It was eleven inches—Manzanita and Unicorn hair… springy, apparently." I shrugged and gave my wand a subtle wave, eliciting some silvery sparks from the tip.

"I was sorted into Slytherin at Hogwarts." I continued, smiling softly. "You were very pleased. I played Quidditch for the house team, and had a lot of friends."

Again, my mother glared silently at me.

"And then you and dad died." I finally said.

Suddenly, Astoria blinked. Her glare lessened slightly to make way for a look for mild annoyance. Well, it was better than outright hate, anyway.

I took a deep breath, and looked up at the blue-and-green eyes of Astoria Greengrass. "I used the time travel spell you created to come back twenty years in time, help put an end to Voldemort, and make sure you live a long and happy life. I will erase your memory so you forget everything I just told you, and make you think you have a little sister named Lily. And I will use your spell to do it."

Mum's eyes widened impossibly large. Perhaps at what I told her about traveling through time, or perhaps because I told her what I planned to do. It could have been either or neither. Her anger evaporated into a cold fear I knew she felt, and it absolutely broke my heart. I didn't want to do it, but I knew that if I didn't, then everything I worked for, all the time I spent finishing her spell to travel through time would be wasted. She needed to know as little as possible. She needed to go through her life as she normally would have. That way she could meet my father, marry and then have me.

Well… another me. Or something.

Whatever.

I stood up off the bed and stretched, wincing slightly as my sore muscles groaned in pain. I idly wondered how long the pain would linger. I didn't really remember offhand; the maths didn't really say so I didn't really know. Realizing I was stalling, I raised my wand towards my mother. A small whimpering sound trickled out from behind her frozen lips and it tore at my heart.

Swallowing against a dry throat, I gripped my wand tighter. "Before I do this, I just want you to know who my father is." Her eyes stayed wide, but a clear feeling of curiosity could be seen behind the fear.

With a smile that came surprising easy, I said, my voice soft yet very proud, "My father is Harry Potter."

A second later, a bright flash filled the room.

My work had only begun.

My name is Lily Astoria Potter.

And this is my story.

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A/N: And here is the beginning. Should be an interesting ride. Hope people take to this one just as well as Heterochromic. Because things will get weird later.

Also, if you wish to comment, please no spoilers!

See you, everyone! ^.^