Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Blake. Anything that looks somewhat familiar, probably isn't mine.

Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first story! Yay! So, anyway, read it and when you're done, review because I would love to hear what you guys have to say.

Just a warning, this story will have aspects of religion in it, and that is going to be one of the conflicts Blake will struggle with, and war scenes because it is the second wizarding war. The T rating is mainly because of that, and in case I happen to write something particularly graphic that isn't fit for a K rating.

Also, purely because of my own beliefs, there will be no major cursing in this story, although there probably will be the minor British curse words (that I don't think are curse words because I am not British).

This also brings me to my next point that I am indeed not British. So, pardon my American lingo and social norms. If I happen to get anything wrong, whether it be British-related or Harry Potter-related or just my writing sucks, please don't hesitate to correct me. I love to learn more about both and I can only get better.

If, by chance, my story offends anyone for any reason, I'm terribly sorry, but maybe you shouldn't read this.

On that note, please enjoy the story.

The Chronicles of One Blake Safford

{1}

I would imagine it felt a bit like apparating, being sucked into a too-small tube and feeling like your brain will explode. The next thing I knew I was falling, almost like I had somehow lost my balance and was now falling forward. And when I landed, cracking my head on a very hard surface, I had to close my eyes to keep the nausea from creeping up my throat and the stars from bursting in front of my face. And it hurt, really badly; the sound of my head and the floor colliding echoed around the large room. My eyes flew open. It took a few seconds for the leftover dizziness to go away, and then I could see clearly. And what I saw made my head swirl again.

Directly above me was a ceiling. What's so great about a ceiling? Well, this ceiling was the sky. It wasn't that the ceiling wasn't there, because there was definitely a ceiling; I could see the stone arches and columns that held up the walls, but the ceiling was quite literally a mirror image of the sky. Now, there is only one place, fiction and non-fiction, that has a ceiling like that. And it was most definitely fiction. Being a Harry Potter fan since I first read the series many years ago, and having read all the books multiple times I could probably tell you who sneezed on page 135 in the fourth book, (no one, unless you count crying, but I wouldn't), I thought of Hogwarts the moment I set eyes on that weather ceiling. Coming to this conclusion, I started freaking out. You would too if you thought you were inside a fictional magic school.

Sitting up quickly with my eyes wide open, I silently begged my splitting headache to leave so that my mind would clear. Looking to my right, I saw that I was at the front of a very large hall. A room with four tables; four very long, wooden tables. Four tables for four houses. The drapes hanging from the stone arches, from right to left, were red, blue, yellow, and green; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. There were large glass windows stretching up to the ceiling, and long walls made of stone with a huge entryway at the end of the middle aisle that ran from the front of the hall to the back between the tables.

Within seconds of sitting up I was starting toward the doors, suddenly acutely aware of my short, five feet five-inch tall, legs. The doors were huge, and locked. I turned huffing and saw close to 50 adults sitting at a long table at the very front of the hall; all staring at me with food in front of them.

I saw Dumbledore; silvery, long hair, half-moon spectacles, robes, hat, everything that I could see from a distance. Everything perfectly described in the books. I saw McGonagall, glasses, bun and all, Snape, whose hair was really greasy (thank goodness Alan Rickman didn't have hair like that!) Trelawny, who had eyes that resembled an insect's, Hagrid, of course, Flitwick who was very short, Sprout, who I realized a little later was covered in dirt and patches, and others that I had heard of from the books.

I hadn't realize that while I was having this epiphany I was slowly walking toward them. I stepped up to Dumbledore, and his eyes twinkled, twinkled! I reached out a finger and moved to poke him, just to make sure, you know, that he wasn't a wax figure or something. Then he frowned and moved his head out of the way; probably a knee-jerk reaction, but it scared the wits out of me. I jumped back, realizing he was alive, and started shrieking, because fictional characters don't usually appear out of nowhere, alive and sitting down for lunch right in front of you.

I was too busy freaking out to notice the stairs leading up to the table, and fell down those few stairs, landing, once again, on the stone floor and banging my head on the ground, which knocked some sense into me. I rubbed the back of my head, muttering a small "Ow" as the professors, well, most of them stood up and peered over the table at me. I suddenly realized that I was wearing winter pajama pants, a thin black turtleneck, a sweatshirt, and the fuzzy, purple socks I got from my cousin last Christmas. Which was awesome, really spectacular.

"My dear," Dumbledore said, looking politely curious. "Are you okay?" I sat there for a moment, temporarily stunned. And then I realized that I hadn't answered, and decided I should probably say something. "I'm-", my voice cracked, so I cleared it and spoke louder. "I'm alright." I shifted so I was sitting, and not lying on my elbows. "I've certainly been better." I added mostly to myself. He heard me anyways. He raised his eyebrows. "Indeed." His accent showed a bit more as he said this. They probably heard mine; after all, I was from the USA. "Would you be so kind as to tell us who you are and how you came to be here?" he asked nicely. I nodded. "Right, well, um, I'm Blake…Safford, I'm 16 years old, and I have absolutely no idea how I got here." I finished with a small smile, looking at the floor, embarrassed.

"Sir, it is obvious that she is lying, as she cannot look at your face while she is speaking to you. That is a clear sign of dishonesty." A low, sneering voice spoke up. I looked to see Snape standing, looking at Dumbledore and then glancing at me, sneering when he saw that I was looking. "Actually," I said louder. "I'm just embarrassed to be standing in front of sophisticated professors wearing my P.J.'s and fuzzy socks." I said in a deadpan voice trying to match his…and failing miserably. He scowled in return. Not wanting to seem submissive, I looked in his eyes as he started me down. His eyes were dark and black, kinda like a doll's eyes, all dark and lifeless-like. This would probably scare a lot of people, me included, if I hadn't already known his life story. By this time I realized that he was skilled in legilimency and was most likely reading my thoughts, so I started staring at his eyebrows instead. I wondered if he would notice the small change in my eye direction, probably. He was a spy after all. His facial features pulled together even more and I knew that he had noticed. I turned and looked at Dumbledore again, who was watching us with a curious expression, but stopped when he saw me watching him.

He smiled again, "It is very lovely to meet you Miss. Safford. My name is Professor Dumbledore, and these are my colleagues." He said motioning to the people around him. I looked at up and down the table with a smile and a nod, acknowledging them. Of course I already knew who he and most of the others were, but he didn't need to know that just yet. "Likewise." I replied. Snape scoffed. I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. He looked at little taken back, but then he just sneered again. I rolled my eyes, as a non-respective gesture and turned back to Dumbledore formally. "Um, do you think I could speak to you privately?" I asked him politely. I turned to the teachers thinking of something. "Not that I don't trust you guys, it's just…um…" Oh, how do I finish that sentence. Dumbledore seemed to understand what I was saying. "Certainly my dear," he said answering my question. "Would it be alright with you if I were to bring a fair few with me?" he asked. I thought of the only two people he would even consider including in something this big. "Two." I answered. He nodded to McGonagall and Snape. Who called it? They walked around the table and stood to wait for Dumbledore, who was talking to the rest of the staff in a hushed voice. Of course, no one would want a mysterious stranger to overhear the conversation, even though she knows everything about your future.

I followed Dumbledore and McGonagall down the hallways, Snape walked slightly behind me. It was starting to creep me out. I kept glancing over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows at him. He just glared at me, which was just a friendly gesture, I'm sure.

We walked up to the gargoyle that was the entrance to Dumbledore's study, which was uglier than I thought it would be. Dumbledore whispered the password so I couldn't hear it and led us to the door. Inside he gestured to three chairs in front of his desk that most certainly weren't there before. McGonagall sat on the one on the far left, leaving me and Snape to sit next to each other, much to his displeasure. He sneered at me, but sat anyways.

"I would like to apologize for my attire, but as you know, I was not expecting to be anywhere today." I said as I sat down. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Not at all Miss. Safford." It was really weird hearing him say my name. I smiled. In my peripherals I saw Snape scowl. I rolled my eyes, and his widened; he had noticed no doubt. Dumbledore looked about ready to laugh. "Why don't you tell us why you requested to speak privately Miss. Safford?" he asked smiling.

"Well, you should probably know, and this is going to come as a shock, but I'm just going to spit it out." I took a deep breath. "I'm from a different world, at least I think am." I watched as their expressions slowly turned from looks of concentration to looks of pure bafflement. "See, in my world, you are all fictional characters in a book series." Their expressions were hilarious now. Snape, of course, scoffed, but before he could say anything, McGonagall beat him to it. "What do you mean, 'a book series'?" I sighed. Okay, I told myself. Give them everything but the future plot, that should be okay. "In the year 1997," their eyes grew wide, well, wider. "A fantasy fictional novel came out by the author, J.K. Rowling." I raised my hand to stop their questions, because they looked about to burst. "Please, don't interrupt, just wait until I'm finished." Dumbledore looked a little pitiful, which was hilarious, but he smiled and nodded, allowing my to continue. "Rowling had first gotten her ideas while riding for hours on a train. Throughout the years 1990 through 1993, Rowling wrote her story's manuscript. In 1996, Rowling sent the first three chapters to her agent, hoping to get lucky. He loved it, asking for the complete manuscript. After finding a publisher willing to publish her story, her fantasy novel was published. When the book hit the shelves, everyone loved it. The book stayed popular for more than a decade. People adored it. So she wrote another, and another, and another, until, by 2007, she had written seven books and had finished the series. After the third book was published, they started making the books into movies." Dumbledore and McGonagall confused so I explained. "Which are, basically, a bunch of colored, moving pictures put together to tell a story. If a book gets made into a movie, it's a big deal."

"Anyways, they continued to make movies, and the book series was still a hit. Rowling became one of the richest people in the world, and one of the most famous. The British author was a billionaire. This is a true story." I took another breath. "This book series was called, as you're wondering I'm sure, Harry Potter." Snape was about to comment, but I cut him off, he didn't really like that. "Each book coming with a different title: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and so on and so forth. Each book telling about each of his years at school and the fight against Voldemort." Everyone had either their eyebrows rose in surprise or in a scoffing, disbelieving look. *Cough*Snape*Cough*

"You don't believe me." it wasn't a question. "Go ahead, as me anything. I've read each book multiple times." Humoring me, Snape asked a totally random question that I would be least likely to answer, had I been from his world. "What's my mother's maiden name?" Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at him in shock. "Prince." I replied, completely confident. Now all of them looked at me in shock. "H-How did you…?" Snape asked. I smirked, "I know a lot, Half-Blood Prince." He made a funny sound in the back of his throat. "Half-Blood what?" McGonagall asked. Watching the color drained from Snape's face, I smirked. Then his eyes narrowed, "So, you want us to believe that you came from a world, where we're characters in a fictional story?"

"As ridiculous as it sounds, yes that's exactly what I want you to believe, that's what I'm asking you to believe." They still looked skeptical. "May I ask what year it is?" Dumbledore didn't seem at all surprised by this question, "1994" So, Harry will be going into his fourth year, The Triwizard Tournament would be starting, Voldemort comes back, and he starts liking Cho. Wonderful. And even better, "I'm not even born yet." "Pardon?" McGonagall asked raising an eyebrow. The teachers all looked at each other. "When were you born my dear?" Dumbledore asked. "December 15, 1994."

"That would make you-" "16. Almost 17." "What year is it where you come from?" "2011." Their eyes widened. "That's –" "Impossible." Snape said, interrupting McGonagall. "It's impossible, you have to be lying." I rolled my eyes, of course. "Yeah, okay. Non-believer." I muttered. He just glared at me without saying a word.

Dumbledore just sat there, grinning at us the entire time, practically laughing at our banter, well mostly my banter while Snape played Debbie Downer. I just shook my head at Snape and turned back to Dumbledore. "So, Professor, what am I supposed to do to get home?" He frowned, obviously not thinking of that. "I am not sure. I have never heard of this kind of situation." That's fantastic. "For the time being we'll just have to enroll you into Hogwarts, so that you may be close at hand while we find a solution." This basically meant that Dumbledore wanted to keep an eye on me.

"Sir, I'm not a witch. I'm a muggle, like non-magical. I can't do magic. Is anyone else seeing the problem here?" I asked, slightly stressed out and very confused. Professors McGonagall and Snape apparently had no idea what Dumbledore was up to either. "My dear, you are at Hogwarts now. It is impossible for a muggle to see this castle, so, therefore, you must be a witch." That made sense…I guess.

"So you're saying that because I can see Hogwarts, not as a deserted building with a sign saying 'Keep Out' but as a castle that is actually used as a school for the magical, I'm a witch." Staring at him, trying to understand, vaguely remembering Hermione explaining this to Ron and Harry in the fourth book. Dumbledore nodded, "Essentially, yes." I nodded, slightly shocked. "But wait, couldn't I also be a squib? I mean Filch isn't a wizard, yet he can see the castle" McGonagall frown, obviously understanding what I was saying.

"Don't you think we should test it out or something first?" I asked, thinking that there was no possible way I could be a witch. "Isn't there a possibility that I could be a squib? I mean, look at Filch, he's a squib and yet he is able to see Hogwarts"

"Although you do make an excellent point, I do not believe that this is the case. However, we may try if that is what you wish." Dumbledore replied taking out his wand and holding it out for me to take. Slowing I reach out and took that wand, holding it lightly in my hand. It was light-colored, almost white, with soft ridges running along the wand. The handle had a curve that molded to you palm, probably to make it easier to hold and more comfortable. It didn't have any type of reaction to my touch, but I couldn't decide if that was because it hadn't chosen me, or because I wasn't magical. "Give it a wave, my dear." A soft voice came from the side. As a response, I waved the wand. The result was immediate, the little crystal figurine sitting on Dumbledore's desk shattered, having a similar reaction to that of a champagne flute shattering due to a high frequency. Needless-to-say, I put the wand on the desk pretty quickly after that.

There was a short moment of awkward silence, as Dumbledore smiled at me with a smug "I told you so" grin, and I sat staring at the table while the rest of the professors sat uncomfortably off to the side.

"Well," I said clapping my hands together, and breaking the silence. "That's fantastic, now instead of going home, I can wave around a magic stick and pretend that my whole life previous to this never existed!" Of course saying this put things into perspective for me. My whole life previous to this moment had gone, and I had no idea how to get back to it. Everything that had ever mattered to me: my family, my friends, my school, my church. Everything was gone. That really sucked.

When I looked up, Dumbledore and McGonagall had looks of pity on their faces, wonderful. Snape looked the same as ever, no sympathy there – not that I had expected any. "So," I said shaking my head and getting rid of my pessimistic feelings. After all, this is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I was not going to waste it, no sir. "I'm off to Hogwarts then. What is the date, may I ask?" Snape being the only one, not shocked by my change of attitude answered, "22nd of June." In his usual sneering voice. I nodded to show I heard him, but my mind was far past that. If it was the summer before Harry's fourth year, Voldemort wasn't 'back' yet, which meant that the Wizarding World was not yet in mortal peril. Harry was still thirteen and hasn't gone to the World Cup yet. He probably wasn't even at The Weasley's yet. This could give me time. I also needed to figure out what I was supposed to tell people. Those that were in the Order, or will be in the Order, seeing as it was still disbanded, can know the truth, but only them. If someone else found out that I knew the future, their future, this whole world could come crashing down. So telling anyone was out of the picture, and absolutely no changing the future!

"No one can know that I know the future, or that in my world you all are in a fictional book, okay?" I said suddenly, well, suddenly for them. They all looked shocked for a second, not expecting me to shout at them out of nowhere. Snape didn't, but that isn't new. Dumbledore nodded breaking the silence. "Yes, I think that would be the best."

"Well, you can tell some people, like Arthur and Molly, maybe Bill, Remus, Sirius and Moody, possible Tonks, but not a lot of people. We should try to keep it to ourselves." I said, mostly to myself, but the professors nodded along with me. Only McGonagall showed surprise that I knew who these people were. "You could probably tell Professors Flitwick and Sprout, but no one else. The "kids" can't know. Everyone should just assume that I'm some random exchange student from I don't know, The Salem Witches' Institute or something like that." Dumbledore nodded along with that too.

"Yes, that would be a good cover. This way, you will be able to tell people your backstory without giving away something you shouldn't."

"Yeah, but I have to make sure not to say anything from the books. Plus, this way, I have an excuse for already knowing about the wizarding world." Then I got an idea. "I could also say that I'm a half-blood or muggleborn to cover my muggle knowledge."

"Yes, yes, that would work very well I think." Dumbledore said smiling.

"But," I thought, still mostly talking to myself. "Why am I transferring? Why so late? And on such short notice?"

"Ah yes." Frowning, Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and peered over his glasses. "I believe it is best if everyone were to assume that your family is dead, so one would not look into it. Agreed?"

Although, I didn't like the idea of pretending that everyone I knew was dead, I figured it was probably the best solution for the issue. That way I could stop the conversation if it were teetering on the edge of uncontrollable. After all, no one wants to upset the new girl, especially if her family died. Besides, it's not as if anyone would have to know right off the bat. Yes, this was a good plan. So, I nodded.

Dumbledore beamed, "Yes! Excellent! Now how about we get you settled? Hmm?" I smiled before I realized something that could put a big dent in these plans.

"Um…professor?"

"Yes?"

"I don't have any clothes, or money…" I drifted off implying the 'etcetera, etcetera' But he didn't even blink, "Oh don't worry about that, I will have everything taken care of." He said, eyes twinkling and everything.

"But, sir," I asked again. "I don't have a place to stay, and I don't have any school supplies." Did anyone else see this major issue? McGonagall turned to Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow, so obviously I wasn't the only curious one. Snape, of course, was impassive. Dumbledore just smiled.

"I will arrange for you to stay with a family in the order, and I will give you the necessary amount to buy anything you might need." Excuse me? Free money? "Oh, no, Professor I couldn't. I can find a job and-"

"It is final Miss Safford. Merlin knows I have too much for my own good." He smiled down at me.

"But Professor, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?" I asked, dubious. "No second thoughts at all? I mean, I am a teenage girl; I could really put a dent in your savings."

He just smiled. "Please do Miss Safford."

"Are you positively sure? I could get the money-"

"Miss Safford, please."

"Sorry sir." Snape rolled his eyes; Dumbledore smiled.

"Now, about those living arrangements."

"Sir?" I asked, thinking of Harry. "Could I be close to Harry? You know, to just look out…" How do you finish that sentence?

"Of course Miss Safford. I think that it would be best, in fact I have just the place, that is if they agree, then everything will be set." Dumbledore walked promptly over to Fawkes, who was sitting on his perch mimicking sleep, and whispered something to him. And with that, Fawkes was gone in a flash.

Dumbledore walked back to his desk and sat down, while having three pairs of eyes watching him. I couldn't understand how he could trust me so quickly, legilimency maybe, or just a gut feeling? It was confusing me. Snape, obviously, didn't trust me, but he hardly trusted anyone. But even McGonagall was wary.

While I musing, there was a knock on the door. Everyone turned and watched as Dumbledore called them in. My breath caught. Arthur Weasley, in the flesh, walked in followed by his wife. Never in all of my life did I think I would be meeting them, well any of them, ever, it was incomprehensible. They were complete replicas of the characters J.K. Rowling created; exact descriptions coming to life. Arthur: tall, balding, and red-headed, with Molly: plump, brown-eyed, also with red hair, although it was more auburn than Arthur's. They walked in curious, with wary expressions, and when they saw all of us sitting there, they stopped in the doorway.

"Albus, what is this about?" Molly asked. I almost died. How can this be real? "My dear Molly, it seems as if we have a visitor from an entirely other world." Their eyes flickered to me. "Hi." I said meekly. Their eyes flickered back to Dumbledore. "Please explain." Albus gestured for them to sit down in newly appearing chairs, as he began to tell my tale.

Thanks for reading! Please review so I know whether or not I should continue writing or if I should just give up on the whole institution.