You give Dumbledore your name and you talk

(All characters mentioned in this work and in upcoming continuation of said work are at least 18 years of age.)

"Oh, ummmm.....John, uh, Sir. John Doe. I'm, uhm....I'm a....Muggle, I-I guess..."

"Which is well known to us, as well, Mr. Doe. But thank You for confirming one of our deepest fears, yet also one of our most foolish ones."

"Uh....Sir?"

The wizard who has seen many deaths and betrayals in his life changes his facade to the one of a sad old man, lost in his thoughts. Just about a split of a second later, a weak smile returns on his face. He, giggling softly, takes 2 mildly large steps towards you, so that he is as close to your bed as a visitor should get. All the others keep their distance, maybe out of respect, maybe out of curiosity. For what? For what though?!

´Is he gonna fucking kill me?´, you think to yourself. Your eyes and mouth must've shown the silent terror you're feeling, as Dumbeldore starts to chuckle again.

"There is no need to worry at all, Mr. Doe. At least I hope, there isn't. Forgive me for being too curious, which is a curse for an old man such as myself, but...You do seem to know what Muggles are. Do I stand corrected in my assumption?"

What a polite man! Huh, weird. Whenever someone brings up Dumbledore in a discussion, you usually talk about him as the most powerful wizard of all times, the only thing that actually makes Lord Voldemort himself shiver and shake in his sleep. Yet you also forget how good-hearted and of wholesome character he could be sometimes. You hope to keep that in mind for any later encounters.

"Mr. Doe?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry, Sir, I was just, um...well, yeah, anyway. To answer your question: yeah, I know about Muggles, and, well, other stuff as well."

"Are You aware or do You have a vague idea where You could be residing in this very moment?"

"In the wizarding world, Sir. Well, more correctly, I'm in Hogwarts right now. The School for Witchcraft-"

"and Wizardry.". An earlier completely silent McGonagall finishes the sentence in a whisper; not loud enough to be echoed back by the wide white walls of this room, not tranquil enough to not reach your ears. You can make out the fright in her voice.

"Yeah, and, You, well....You're Albus Dumbledore. Well, actually Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and You usually favor the Gryffindors over-uh, I mean-"

Another warm chuckle. Who the fuck could ever hate this guy? Ok, apart from some people, of course.

"Certainly, there lies no lie in your sentence. But let's keep this a secret from Professor-?" He nods towards Snape.

"Severus Snape, Potions Master. And maybe even Professor of Defence against the Dark Arts one final day?", you whisper the last one sarcastically, winking at Dumbledore who looks at you both visibly disappointed but also amused, both of you hoping Snape hasn't heard that; his stone-like visage doesn't seem to have changed for one microsecond, so you rule that out...for now.

McGonagall interrupts your thoughts: "Well, it seems young Doe has quite the knowledge about our very longly kept secret society, Albus. Yet he is neither a wizard nor a magical creature. he is not even a Squib. And as far as we know, he is not related to any of our students or staff. Shouldn't it be to time to ask where exactly he has all this information from?"

Scratching his snowy soft beard in an old-fashioned way, Dumbledore quietly retakes one or two steps, standing closer to his colleagues (or subordinates?) now. He speaks up.

"How right You are, Minerva. Yes, we surely ought to ask him about that. So, John, if I may call You by that-"

"Absolutely, Sir!"

"-, what or who happens to be the source that has been telling you about our world and, to my greater concern, about my school?"

_Oh, shit! He's after you, dawg! What to do? No, you can't tell him the truth! How the fuck are you gonna tell them you just magically--he, he, magically--appeared here? They're gonna think you're crazy...well...crazi_er than you already think you must be at the moment. Come on, come on, hurry up! Think of some shit. Keep those almighty wizards from hauling curses at yo' ass.

"A.....a....friend of mine, yes, an old retired man who lived just a few houses away from mine..umm, I live in Surrey,....he used to go to school here and work later on for the Ministry. One of his...grandchildren graduated from Hogwarts only a few years ago and told him about all the news around here. He himself has told me pretty much everything about wizards and witches and the entire wizarding world and so on."

´They could smell the bullshit a mile or two away from here, who the fuck am I trying to kid here?´

Their faces say it all. Well, rather nothing. Madam Pomfrey narrows her eyes down, apparently a little ashamed to hope she would hear the truth from you. Snape can be observed changing the form of his mouth from sinister neutrality to an insultingly superior smile. He knows you're full of shit, and he probably will be the first one to call you out. Even McGonagall seems a little disappointed, maybe? She surely tries to avoid meeting you now from eye to eye. What kind of makes you sad is how Hagrid's childlike stare from before now has turned into a grim countenance.

Surprisingly enough, Dumbledore seems to be quite neutral, judging by his facial expression. But before he is about to speak (probably to tell you where to shove your story deep (hint: it's where the sun's hardly ever shining)), you interrupt him, hoping to create more time.

"He also told me about Olivander, the famous wand maker. Wands definitely feel important in your world, Sir. Also, he told me about how wizards value their elders. After all, one of them is guiding the most powerful wizards of all time, each and every day. Even 50 or more years ago, wherever their souls are now..."

This time, it's Dumbledore's turn to be completely taken back of what has just been shown, rather said, to him. In utter silence, he stands before you, unsure what to respond to you basically revealing knowledge he has been keeping to himself for the greater part of his long life. Like him, Snape and McGonagall both seem to take the hint, understand that there has been a subtle message hiding between your words, him more (and with much darker and shocked face) than her.

"Wha´ is he talkin´ ´bout, Ser? I mean, sum of us surely take care of our elders, but tha´ isn' the poin' here."

"It's alright, Hagrid." He seems to have retaken his focus and attention towards the other people in this room. "I'm sure Mr. Doe here was trying to--how do our students call it nowadays?--´kiss up´ to me as a sign of friendliness. Well, I surely do not feel threatened anymore, dear John."

Straight up lied without a flinch. How does he do this?

"Um, happy to hear that, Sir. So, after I'm done healing, could anyone maybe help me get back to my home?"

"Albus, we still need to know how exactly he got here!", McGonagall interjected.

Again, the beard scratching. Fine. Sighing. Loud sighing.

"I'm afraid I must disappoint both of you, dear Minerva, dear John. Surrey surely is a faraway destination. I doubt our visitor here will be able to return there immediately. And since we've already riddled him enough with our questions, I think it would best to keep him here for a while, allowing his wounds to heal and his hungry curiosity about our surely interesting world to be fed properly. With enough time coming, I promise I'll race everyone else to this room to speak first to John about why and how exactly he got into all this confusing mess we like to call our lives often."

"That sounds like a good idea, Headmaster.", Snape agrees with his dark, oily voice, as if the conversation has just ended now for good."

"Thank you, Severus. It's always good to have an _ally _to aide you through times when you need one. Wouldn't you agree, John?", he asks you, smirking the conspiracist's smirk, winking at you for the tiny fraction of a second.

You feel tired. It's been not so long since you've woken up, but you already feel your limbs wanting to rest. You just nod in agreement. And for now, you're sure you love Dumbledore.

Said one waves with his hands, asking the others to follow him outside. McGonagall eyes you suspiciously, but keeps her cool and makes her way out. Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey, both visibly confused by what has happened in front of them, follow along. Snape is one of the last to leave, staring at you for the whole time he's walking. With every look you receive, you feel like prey fixating your eyes towards the endless, abhorring abyss of your predator's mouth, about to catch, devour and swallow you mercilessly. He goes away.

Before Dumbledore is about to close the door behind him, he looks back at you. His face kind of resembles that of a child, so eager and full of questions to ask. But it's probably the old man in him that knows when to be patient and wait for his time to ask.

Smiling in both in a curious, yet knowing manner, he tells you: "Sleep well, and pleasant dreams, John. I hope Your presence will add another brave young person to our side. But that shall be held a sceret between You and time itself. Goodbye." He slowly closes the door. You hear his steps gradually becoming more tranquil as you feel dizzy again. You lie to rest again, one hand resting on your bandage.

You're unsure if you've done the right thing there. Should you have told them? Told him? About everything you know, about all those peoples's destinies? No....at least not for now. For now, you just want to get back to the dreams you didn't have.

Just before you're about to begin your journey to the distant lands of slumber, you try to guess when exactly in the "Harry Potter"-Universe you landed. Dumbledore and the rest seemed awfully old, so you're surely not in the first few books. But that--"yawn!"--is something you can later think about.....

WAIT A SECOND! IF YOU'RE IN THE HP-UNIVERSE; DOES THAT MEAN YOU'RE ALSO GONNA MEET HERM-

Sleep. Sweet, liberating sleep. Goodnight.