Olivia was in the process of rereading the Harry Potter books for the umpteenth time. It was a dreary and cold winter day and seeing that she was off for the weekend, she couldn't imagine spending it differently. She was cuddled up in her favorite armchair - a warm blanket covering her legs - with a cup of green tea in her right and her well-loved copy of 'Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince' in her left hand.

Olivia sighed and rubbed her eyes. She shouldn't have gotten up so early. Alas, there was no getting away from Odin once he was awake and hungry... He'd relentlessly paw at her face until she would finally get up. Odin was her 4-year-old Maine Coon tomcat; he had the most intriguing yellow eyes and beautiful red striped fur - but, he also had his own mind... And it usually told him to demand breakfast at 6 in the morning. He didn't make a distinction between weekdays and the weekend. Now it was merely 3 p.m. and Liv felt ready to crawl back into bed.

Well, not before she'd finished the chapter though. Maybe afterwards, she'd take a quick nap.

She tried to concentrate on the book for another five minutes before she drifted off. 'l wish I was a witch,' she thought barely conscious, just before her eyes fell shut.

"Ms. Hawkins? – Ms. ... Blimey! You've fallen asleep! – Ms. Hawkins-"

Olivia grunted something incoherent.

"Ms. Hawkins! There is a guest!"

'A guest?' Was she really this overworked that she could fall asleep at home one minute and be back at work the next? "S-sir?" Olivia tiredly opened her clear blue eyes and suppressed a yawn. However, all tiredness was instantly gone once she recognized where she was or rather where she wasn't. This was not the bar she worked at to pay the bills until she got her teaching diploma. Nor was that curiously dressed man with the annoying voice her boss.

"I uh-"

"Hurry up!" the man in the grey robes hissed at her. Then he pushed a tray with drinks into her arms and shoved her out from behind the counter.

Am I still asleep? Is this some sort of dream? – Hell, if it was, that Sandman guy should really get a pay raise... Because this felt alarmingly real.

Without a better idea of what to do, Olivia walked over to the table the bar's owner had pointed her to. Two men in similar robes were openly leering at her once she got closer and set their drinks down.

"Ah, Liv," one of the men drawled out, his eyes wandering from her eyes to her chest. He had a wolfish grin on bis face. "You're the only reason I'm still coming here instead of going to the 'Three Broomsticks' – you are prettier to look at than dear old Rosmerta." He laughed, his companion joining in.

The Three Broomsticks? Madame Rosmerta? – But that would mean.- No, that is stupid of me to even think. Harry Potter wasn't real. Hogwarts wasn't. And Hogsmeade wasn't either. Or was it?

Suddenly, Olivia felt sick to her stomach. Her breath came in violent gasps and her forehead was starting to sweat. The room was spinning around her and a killer headache was making its presence known. Her vision became blurry and then – black.

Where am I? Olivia groaned as she regained consciousness, pushing a strand of dark red hair out of her face and blinking to adjust to the bright light all around her.

"Ah, you're awake."

"Finally," a second voice added, sounding almost identical to the first. "Mother would kill us if we let anything happen to her-"

"- favorite niece," the first voice finished the sentence.

Rubbing her eyes, Olivia could finally see. Or rather, she would be able to see if she had her glasses. Now, where are they?

"Here you go," number two pushed her glasses into her hand, a dark boldly rimmed pair that looked like a relict of the 60's.

Perching her glasses on her nose, Olivia gasped in shock at seeing Fred Weasley – Or was it George? – standing right in front of her.

"Uh, come on. Some day you have to get it right," he grinned at her, taking a playful bow. "I am Fred, dear cousin."

"And I am George," the second Weasley twin added, walking up to the bed as well. "Are you feeling better, Liv?"

"I hope it wasn't the screeching peppermint I put in your tea yesterday…"

"No, uh, I feel… fine… really," Olivia answered without much conviction, trying her best not to fall unconscious once more as she found herself eye to eye with literature's most famous twins, Fred and George Weasley. Not to forget the fact that she'd mourned one of them when she read the last book of the series years ago. But here they were, standing right in front of her, claiming to be her cousins.

"We fed Odin, by the way," George said, motioning to somewhere behind his back.

"He was meowing and cheeping like crazy."

"Yeah, we thought it must be his dinner time."

"Odin is here?" Olivia asked, tears now finally appearing in her deep blue eyes. In all the craziness that had been happening, she hadn't even thought about the chance of him not being here. Now, she was just unimaginably relieved to know he was with her.

"Of course,-"

"- where else would that arrogant furry monster of yours be?"

"Well, we have to get back to the shop,-"

"- you know, us being the owners and all."

"You haven't forgotten about dinner this Sunday though, right? Harry and Hermione are already looking forward to meet you."

Harry and Hermione. "Uh, where…"

"At the Burrow of course."

"8 o'clock."

"I'll be there..." she smiled, knowing her smile probably looked more like a grimace right now. The Burrow. Of course… How did this happen? When was she going to wake up?

The rest of the day, Olivia spent roaming the streets and stores of Hogsmeade. She'd decided that, if this was some crazy kind of dream her consciousness was stuck, she'd make the best of it. Exploring Hogsmeade was the first thing to come to her mind.

So far, she'd been to Honeydukes and the Post Office, where she'd longingly stared at all the beautiful owls until she'd started to uncontrollably sneeze from the stuffy air. She'd found out, that apparently she lived in rent at the Three Broomsticks and worked at the Hog's Head. And she'd actually squealed with excitement, when she'd found a wonderfully crafted wand in one of her coat pockets. Weirdly enough, it was exactly the wand that the Pottermore site had chosen for her: Larch wood with a dragon heartstring at its core, 12 ½" long, and, which was obvious to Olivia, really really beautiful.

She'd yet to try any spells though. Luckily enough, she was such a big nerd, that she knew several incantations and their corresponding wand movements. Not now though… Later, when she was back in her room at the Three Broomsticks. Her room at the Three Broomsticks. Liv chuckled to herself at the mere thought and almost keeled over with laughter, when a group of elderly witches stared at her as if she'd lost her marbles. Maybe they are right though…

Deciding that she'd had enough excitement for the day, she turned around and trekked back to the Three Broomsticks.

As soon as she entered the homey tavern, laughter was filling her ears and the scent of what she assumed to be butterbeer filled her nose.

I wish this was real. Once I go to bed, this'll all be over…

She sighed.

"Why so glum, sweetheart?" A beautiful middle-aged woman with blonde curls and a friendly smile put an arm around her shoulder.

"Madame Rosmerta?"

"Oh sweety," the woman chuckled, "you hit your head hard when you fell, huh? Haven't called me Madame in two years. Fred told me about your little accident earlier. Well, it might have been George actually. But it doesn't change the facts. Are you feeling alright?" Rosmerta looked at her with genuine concern and Olivia couldn't help but smile.

"I'm good, Ros," she used the name that felt right to her. "I'm good."

"Well, in that case, you'll have to join me for a butterbeer."

"All right – that actually sounds great."

One butterbeer had turned into two and a firewhiskey. It was late when Olivia fell onto her bed face first, groaning when the room wouldn't stop spinning all around her. She'd been on a sailing ship with her dad when she was five and this felt exactly the same. Minus the fresh breeze from the wind and her daddy's strong arms around her. I miss him. I miss them both.

She felt the tears prick her eyes but thankfully, she fell asleep before they could actually fall and threaten to drown her.

The scream that left her lips when she woke up not at home but at her room at the Three Broomsticks, Odin impatiently pawing at her face, was enough to wake her neighbors and make them thump their hands and feet against the walls to get her to shut up.

Feeling the aftereffects of the hangover – her head pounding in protest at her own noise – she moaned and pulled Odin into her arms, carrying him into a very small kitchen.

Her 'home' at the Three Broomsticks was made up of two rooms. A large one that held a squeaking but astoundingly comfortable double bed, a sofa in front of a fireplace, a desk and chair set and a small kitchen; and a small bathroom complete with a beautiful antique looking tub.

"So, I guess the two of us are still here?"

"Meow."

"I know. I'm not sure if this is a dream anymore…"

"Meooow."

"Yeah, yeah, don't knot your tail. Breakfast will be served in '5." She set Odin on the ground and checked the clock on the wall. It was 7:30. So either Odin had graciously granted her some more rest or, which was more likely, hadn't managed to wake her in her hungover state.

Quickly, she changed into a pair of odd looking jeans and a dark blue sweater – the wardrobe was packed with things in her size! – and picked up Odin's bowl, filling it with cat food.

"Here you go," she cooed at her furry friend – or boss? – and briefly ran a hand along his back.

She managed to get ready in twenty minutes and left the still quiet tavern bundled up in her cloak and a woolen beanie.

Yesterday, she'd decided to go and see Hogwarts if she was still here today. For obvious reasons – seeing Hogwarts would be a dream come true! – and for the chance of talking to someone who might be able to help her. She didn't know what kind of help she sought though. Back in… well, back home… there was nothing that held her, nothing and no one who waited for her. She'd been alone since her mother had died from cancer 5 years ago; her father had died one night on his boat back when she was 7. He'd hit his head and fallen into the ocean, drowned… When his friend had finally managed to pull him out, it had already been too late.

She didn't really have friends either. After losing her mother, who she'd cared for for two long and painful years, she'd been a reclusive. None of her friends had stayed on her side during that horrible time. After, she just hadn't bothered to find new friends. When it counted, they would just bail anyway.

Hogwarts. Never in her life had Olivia seen something so beautiful. The movies and the books didn't do its raw beauty and sheer size justice. Not even close.

She must've stood in front of the iron gates for a short eternity, gaping with her mouth and eyes wide open, when a very tall, gruffy bearded man approached from the other side of the gates.

"Ah, Miss Olivia, haven't seen ya in ages," the man who was undoubtedly Hagrid beamed at her and opened the gate with a complicated looking set of keys.

She strode through the open door and waited until he'd locked the gate once more.

"I was hoping to see Professor Dumbledore," she began, raising a single eyebrow in silent question. "Do you know if he is at the castle?"

"Should be," Hagrid nodded and together they started the long walk across the grounds and towards the castle. "He was talking to Sir Nicholas this morning."

"Nearly-Headless-Nick?"

"Yup. Were discussing something about the Bloody Baron I think." Hagrid shivered. "Creepy, that one..."

...

...

"Well, here we are. Password over the winter break is 'Pygmypuff marshmallows'," Hagrid supplied before he started to head back to his hut.

"Ah, Miss Hawkins," Albus Dumbledore said as Olivia entered his office, still amazed at the moving staircases and portraits on the walls. "I thought I might see you today."

"Professor?" she asked with a frown. Could he have known about her visit?

"I heard from Rosmerta that you have been behaving weirdly yesterday, when I took a nightcap at the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh."

"More often than not, people who seem out of sorts end up here in my office," Dumbledore chuckled knowingly. "Sherbet lemon?"

Olivia nodded, taking one of the bright yellow bonbons and popping it into her mouth.

Dumbledore seemed rather pleased about the fact that someone had finally accepted his offer.

"So, what brings you here?"

…

…

…

"Curious, very curious indeed," Dumbledore mumbled to himself when Olivia had ended her story. "I have never heard of something like this happening before but I can only tell you what I think and what I know." He paused and continued when Olivia gave him a short nod. "I think that the wish you made in your world took you here and created a new life for you. – As things are, I for one have known you for the past 13 years, since you've been sorted into Hufflepuff as a first year."

A Hufflepuff? Huh. I always thought I'd be in Ravenclaw. Or maybe Gryffindor. But Hufflepuff… "But how? I don't remember any of this…"

"Just because you do not remember, doesn't mean it isn't real," the headmaster said, thoughtfully combing his fingers through his long beard.

"Can you tell me… about myself?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded.

"I can even show you. Some things at least." He moved his hand and his Pensieve came flying through the room, landing on his desk in front of them. Then he held his wand against his temple and silvery threads flowed from his head into the bowl.

"After you."

Taking a deep breath, Olivia bent over the Pensieve and let her face break the surface of the swirling liquid. Then, she was falling, but not for long.

She watched as a slightly younger Professor Dumbledore was talking to Professor McGonagall in what appeared to be the witch's classroom.

"Is it true, Albus? Steven Hawkins, dead?"

Dumbledore solemnly nodded his head. "He drowned in the Black Lake, saving a young and too curious Ravenclaw student from the merpeople."

"Have you told Paula?"

"Yes, I told her as soon as she'd managed to put their little daughter to bed. The girl was screaming for her daddy…"

"He was a great Herbology Professor and an even greater friend."

"I know. We will all grief his death but no one as much as his family. He talked so often about Olivia and Paula.."

The scene switched and Liv found herself staring at her own 11-year-old self, sitting down in front of the entire school and her red curls covered by the large Sorting Hat. The hat had barely touched her when he exclaimed "Hufflepuff!"

"Congratulations, Pomona," Albus smiled at the Hufflepuff head of house.

"Steven would be proud," the little old witch said with a lone tear trailing down her cheek. "Tending to the greenhouses was always fun and special together with him…"

Olivia felt her own eyes tear up and hastily looked for herself in the throng of students. She finally found her, talking to a slightly older girl with blue hair.

"Tonks?"

"She has been your best friend ever since that day. Even though she was already a third year," Dumbledore's voice explained in her thoughts.

There wasn't time to ask more questions though because soon, the scene changed once more. They were still in the Great Hall but the chairs and tables were gone and instead, it was elegantly decorated in the colors of all four Hogwarts houses and people were dancing and having fun. It took some time to find herself.

Olivia wasn't amidst the crowd but standing close to the ceiling high windows, staring out into the night. She was alone and everyone else made a wide berth around her.

"This is the graduation ball, isn't it? And I am what, 18?"

Dumbledore solemnly nodded, knowing that Olivia was putting two and two together.

"This is the year my mother passed away."

"She died from a muggle illness called cancer, during the summer break of your last school year," Dumbledore quietly stated. "Steven was a Pureblood, your mother a Muggle. Your father was one of Molly Weasley's younger brothers. Molly and Arthur took you in when Paula passed away and you've lived there for a year before you decided to find your own way. – At least, that is what I heard." Dumbledore paused and together they watched the young and distraught woman who was supposed to be celebrating her graduation. "You started working at the Hog's Head two years ago. Rosmerta offered you a job at the Three Broomsticks but you were afraid she'd be giving it to you out of pity. You were always rather proud for a Hufflepuff…"

"What did I do before I came to Hogsmeade? Do you know?"

Dumbledore scratched his beard. "I don't know much about these three years of your life," he admitted. "I know you've spent some time with Charlie Weasley in Romania." – "Let's head back to the present."

Gasping for breath, Olivia pulled her head out of the Pensieve, momentarily surprised that her face wasn't at all wet. She pondered over the memories for a moment and finally asked the question that was burning on her tongue. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Well," Dumbledore began. "You've clearly gotten another chance at a new and different life. I'd say, enjoy it, make friends, find love. Maybe a new, challenging job? You were rather good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Maybe you could become a Hogwarts Professor – with time?"

"But sir, I don't even know how to do magic."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Miss Hawkins. You did magic to come here, didn't you? In a world that supposedly doesn't even possess magic…" The old wizard smiled patiently. "Try it."

With hesitation and doubt, Olivia pulled her wand. Her fingers tingled pleasantly as soon as they clasped around the wand's soft wooden surface and she couldn't hold back a smile.

I wonder…

"Expecto Patronum," she called out, moving her wand through the air in intricate patterns as she thought about the day her father and mother had taken her to see Cinderella at the cinema and the many nights her father had read the first Harry Potter book to her.

She gasped as silver waves of magic erupted from her wand and took form, finally morphing into a corporeal raccoon.

"Beautifully done, Miss Hawkins," Dumbledore clapped his hands and together they watched the animal float through the air, scratching its ears as it curiously looked at them. "I daresay you are a witch through and through."

AN: Well, you people know the drill ;-) . This is my first story that has an original character as the main character, so of course I am curious what you think of Miss Hawkins. All other thoughts are welcome too.