A/N - Okay. I'm finished playing with it. I promise. If you notice any errors or inconsistencies, please let me know.

I'm going to work on Life in the Interim next, but that won't be until later this week when I have more time. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy the upgrade.

Dani

1– And so it begins

I could begin with, "And so I was born," but in fact, my story began before that.

I was conceived in a blessed ritual, in the ancient stone circle of Callanish, on the Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides, on Samhain…Halloween; the night when the veil between the existing world and the spirit world is the thinnest. Magick is most powerful on this night, and those conceived, with blessings of the Goddess and God, are believed would possess great and unique power. From this point, my life was plotted for me. There are some things that we can control. There are other things that we must simply do. And then, there are things that we are destined to do. I would learn, in time, exactly what I was destined to do.

~~~***~~~

It's funny that some of my earliest recollections would be very dark, yet warm. I would hear a voice, a man's, old yet soothing. It would often tell me how special I was, how I would do great things, but I had to be strong. Sometimes, this man would play music for me or tell me stories, yet I couldn't respond with more than a flutter or a kick, but I think he knew that I heard and understood. I never actually met the man but would later find out that he was my grandfather.

My mother was Catherine, a teacher. My father was Enrico, an alchemist. Both worked for the Italian Ministry of Magic as did my grandmother on occasion, but we lived in the Muggle world, in a small village a few miles north of Crotone in southern Italy. Everyone there knew each other, or so they thought. My parents were polite but guarded, and I was raised to be respectful of others, but to "be careful for not everyone is like us". Our "talents" were kept secret, something difficult for a child to do, but I did it, having been impressed upon me how necessary it was.

I was home-schooled by my parents in the subtle art of witchcraft and was taught from a young age how to protect myself. For some reason, they insisted that it was important. I learned very quickly, and it pleased my parents that absorbed much more than most Wizard children my age. I, also, attended the local, public, Muggle primary school to learn how to "blend in", something else my parents felt was very important. It was the only place that I had friends, and I rather enjoyed being with children my own age.

My father often went away to work with my grandfather, which left my mother and I on our own. Sometimes, we would visit Grandmaman and Grandpa Thomas in Gavarnie in south-western France, but most of the time we stayed close to home. I liked visiting Grandmaman, but I didn't like when my father was away. When he returned, he would tell me stories, and through that I knew he was doing important work. My safety and the safety of others depended on it. But, it didn't make that separation any easier.

Sometimes, my father would be gone for days, weeks, or even months. Sometimes, my mother would go with him, leaving me in the care of my grandmother or a trusted friend. I was always left with the same good-byes; "Be safe", "Keep your eyes open", "Listen and learn", and "We love you". This time, this Yule season, they did not come home.

~~~***~~~

I was fifteen when I received a letter from a sorcery school far away: Hogwarts. The letter suggested that, because of my parents' death, it would be in my best interest to attend the school for the remainder of the year. I was not happy.

Hmm, I thought sarcastically. January in southern Italy with my friends for support verses January in frozen Scotland with people I don't know. Tough decision, not.

I almost refused; however, my grandmother and my parents' friend were in favour of my going. "It would be good for you to be somewhere else," they had said. "It's a wonderful school."

How would they know? I groused to myself.

But, reluctantly, I went.

~~~***~~~

I had learned to fly a broom by the age of four, and my parents had taught me to Apparate two years ago, but for some reason, I was instructed to travel Muggle-style all the way from Italy to England. Something about a law restricting under-aged witches and the use of magic. I don't know. However, those that sent the letter insisted it was necessary. And, without the guidance of my parents, I was not permitted do it alone.

The rickety train from my village to Rome was pleasant. It bumped along the picturesque countryside and into the bustling city, and the flight from Rome to London was certainly an interesting experience. The massive airplane was congested, but the change in air pressure hurt my ears. From the crowded airport, I took a Muggle taxi to an old part of London.

And, this was supposed to be safer than Apparating? I hmphed.

My parents' friend had given me directions to a place where I was to be met by yet another friend, and at the assigned street corner, an oddly dressed, older woman stood waiting. She appeared to be trying to blend into the Muggle world, but, in my opinion, didn't quite make it. A long, tartan skirt peeked out from under the draping, dark green cloak. Her dark brown hair was tightly pinned in a bun at the top of her head, and her bespectacled, brown eyes shone brightly. Tight, thin lips were forced into a weak smile as I approached.

"Come with me", she instructed quietly without introductions, turning sharply and walking away.

I almost didn't follow. All the cautions my parents had given me; "beware", "watch" and "be careful", and I was expected to blindly follow a stranger? But, there was something... intuition? Gut feeling, maybe? I didn't know, so I trailed along.

She led me to an old, rundown tavern down a dingy side street. The blackened sign on an outstretched rod above the heavy, wooden door read, the Leaky Cauldron, and as we entered, daylight streaked through the dusty air. Guiding me to the grimy fireplace on the far side of the room, she all but ignored the few patrons who watched from thick-timbered tables. Silently grabbing a handful of power from a cracked bowl on the large, stone mantel, she grasped me firmly by the elbow, and steered me into the fireplace.

"The Headmaster's office: Hogwarts," she commanded as she threw the powder into the flames.

The world spun and flashes of other fireplaces whizzed past my eyes. I had never travelled this way before, and I wasn't sure I liked it! Finally shooting out at my destination, I staggered, landing on my knees, coughing and sputtering, and rubbing my eyes to clean out the soot.

"Hello, Alicia. Welcome to Hogwarts," said a familiar voice. It was old and soothing. I'd heard it before, years ago, I think.

Looking up through soot-covered fingers, I gasped in bewilderment, "Grandfather?"

A rushing sound came from behind, and I scrambled out of the way as the older woman elegantly stepped from the Headmaster's fireplace and into the large, round room.

"Thank you for bringing Alicia safely to me, Minerva." The old man nodded with a genial smile. He had the longest grey hair that I had ever seen, and a beard equally as long. He wore a floor-length, sky blue brocade robe flecked with silver sparkles and trimmed with a white border. His blue eyes shone brightly through half-moon spectacles. He looked quite impressive.

Minerva nodded crisply in return and replied, "It's unfortunate that she had to be brought here under these circumstances. Poor child. Did you know her parents well?"

"Well enough," the old man replied simply. Then, turning his attention to me, he smiled again. I could feel warmth radiating from him that meant safe, secure, home.

"You've been through a great deal lately, but you'll be safe here," he began as he turned toward the fireplace keeping his back to me, his demeanour becoming distant. "Our school is sorted into four Houses, and for the remainder of the school year you will join one of these houses. They will be like your family. Your successes will earn House points, and points can be deducted for misdeeds. I will always be available should you need to talk, but you will also have a Head of House that you will be able to confide in. You have never been to a Wizard school before, have you? You were in a Muggle school, were you not?"

He turned to look at me, not waiting for my reply. Removing a battered, old hat from the top of a nearby shelf, he led me on a short stool, sat me down, and placed the hat gently on my head, almost hesitating.

I could feel the hat squirm as it hummed and hawed.

"Oh, my," I finally exclaimed. "Who do we have here? Such strength. Mmm, but much sadness. You have a seriousness about you to succeed. Resourceful. Slytherin would be good for you. Hmmm. You are certainly clever enough. But, there is much courage and spirit, too. Gryffindor, maybe?" It paused, squirming some more. "Hmmm. You are young yet you have achieved skills of those much older than you. Ravenclaw…yes… she has extraordinary potential. Advance her a year. She would not do well with those of her own age. She belongs with Ravenclaw," the hat finally announced.

"Advance a year?" Minerva sputtered. "Has that ever been done before? How do we explain that to the staff?"

"Quite simply," the Headmaster chuckled lightly "Just tell them that, "the Hat said so".