For clarification purposes:
This story takes place in a Harry Potter fanverse, made up by my sister and myself.
For the purposes of the fanverse, the timeline and canon has been altered slightly.
This is most likely due to the fact that we created the fanverse shortly after reading the fifth/sixth books.
The alterations are not extreme; many things are predominantly as they are in the books, just shifted slightly to change timelines/slightly edit accepted canon.
Importantly, the entire war takes place during the summer after sixth year/before seventh year, spurred by Dumbledore's "death."

More will be revealed as you read.


All Harry Potter-related characters/places/etc. copyright J.K.
(Original characters belong to me).

"Where there is perfection, there is no story to tell."


Your Everyday Ordinary Witch
An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction


Chapter One: The Letter


Elisabeth Saunderson was really quite ordinary.

She was seventeen, and neither stunningly brilliant, nor gifted with any peculiar talents.
Though she could cook, she often burned things, and her baking was predictably average.
Her hair behaved on some days, and not on others.
Her wardrobe was not particularly fashionable.

She was unremarkably pretty. People never remembered her face.
In fact, she often had to re-introduce herself, even to those who had known her since childhood.
Her body shape was girl-proportioned and just as unremarkable.
Some clothes looked terrible on her. Some didn't.

She was ordinary.

Her sisters were amazing.

Celenia was the oldest. At twenty-six, she'd already distinguished herself as one of the Paracelsus Patrons' "Preeminent Promising Potions Masters of the Planet." Years prior, while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she'd earned outstandings on most, if not all of her O.W.L.s. Upon finishing her N.E.W.T.s, she was awarded special distinction in Potions by Professor Snape himself.

In addition to her academic talents, Celenia was gentle, kind, and gorgeous. She was always poised, always presentable, and never raised her voice. Elisabeth imagined that Celenia was the perfect lady. The dictionary might as well include her picture next to the word.

Isabel was in the middle. She was just twenty-one, but overflowing with impossible dreams and grand schemes. She'd been a Broom Maker and a Curse Breaker, had a stint with Magical Law Enforcement, tried amateur Potioneering, took up Metal Charming, and recently gave up Dragon Feeding because the fumes were really starting to get to her. Though decidedly average in her marks at Hogwarts, Isabel's vibrant personality afforded her dynamic social success. She had connections all over the wizarding world.

Of course she was beautiful, too, but it was a different kind of beauty. Her hair wasn't perfectly coifed and flowing like Celenia's; it was curly and untamed and left to do its own thing. She often wore overalls and cutoff jeans, and her hands-on attitude had left many of her outfits threadbare and tattering. But she didn't care. She laughed it off; that was what made Isabel enchanting.


It would, of course, be perfectly natural to assume that Elisabeth was jealous of her sisters.
(They were exceptional; she was not.)

But Elisabeth wasn't jealous. She knew that others expected her to be jealous. She even expected herself to be jealous sometimes, when Celenia came home with some new honor, or Isabel showed her the loot from another unbelievable adventure.

But she never was.

Elisabeth was proud. She was proud to be a Saunderson, and share the name with her sisters. She was happy to be the simple one, the regular one; the one who stayed behind, perfectly pleased to do nothing particularly remarkable. When they were little, she was more than happy to play school and be the student while Celenia was the teacher. And she was happy to be the sidekick when Isabel was the superhero.

She was always happy.

But then her eleventh birthday came, and a certain letter did not.

Elisabeth acted like she was still happy. She stood with her mother and held Celenia's hand as they watched Isabel board the Hogwarts Express for her fifth year, joining her horde of laughing friends. Elisabeth smiled at her and waved goodbye, and went on to regular secondary school. She made Muggle friends. She didn't tell Celenia about the first-year wizarding schoolbooks she'd stolen from the attic to read before bed at night.

Her twelfth birthday came. Elisabeth hoped there had been a mistake, that maybe her letter had been delayed a year. She'd heard of other people going to school late. Perhaps it worked for wizard school, too. But the letter never came. Elisabeth should have known that Hogwarts wouldn't make such a mistake, but still. She didn't feel quite as happy to watch Isabel leave for her sixth year, skipping onto the train with a boy in tow. She went up to the attic and stole Isabel's old books from second year.

Thirteen. Still no letter. Elisabeth had lost all hope in mistakes. She couldn't even pretend to smile when Isabel left for her final year at Hogwarts. All she could do was stare as the train pulled out of the station. She tried very hard not to cry.

Then fourteen, and something happened that was even worse. Her mother died. As the oldest, Celenia did the best she could to help her sisters through the loss. Isabel ran away, afraid to stay at home. Elisabeth grew quiet and wondered why bad things happen to people who have done absolutely nothing to deserve them. She skipped a lot of class. Her teachers sent worried notes home with her.

Fifteen. In order to pay the bills, Celenia opened an in-home apothecary, and began to instruct private potions lessons. Elisabeth spent a lot of time away from home, which was probably best, though sometimes she stayed out quite late with her friends. Celenia worried about her, but she felt overwhelmed by other things, like the storm that seemed to be growing on the wizarding horizon. There was a lot of commotion around the Ministry, and she didn't tell Elisabeth. Elisabeth didn't ask.

Sixteen. Isabel came home on the premise to help her sisters, when really, she was afraid. So was Celenia. The storm was brewing into a tempest, but still the elder sisters tried to keep it a secret from the youngest. Elisabeth thought of Hogwarts only when she read her stolen schoolbooks, or saw the magic things happening in the kitchen. Sometimes she sat in on Celenia's lessons, which had suddenly seemed to become even more private. Witches and wizards snuck in and out of the house, when before they'd knocked like regular people. It all seemed very strange. She had to be careful not to accidentally invite any friends home from school.


Mostly, Elisabeth was tired.

She was tired of school.

She was tired of being ordinary.

She was tired of secrets, because even though she wasn't magic, she still had to help her sisters hide their magic.

"I'm not even a witch," she'd privately sigh to her pillow. "But I still have to keep secrets. How is that fair?"

Some nights, she'd downright cry.

Lots of times, Celenia walked in to find her sobbing, either about their mother, or about how unfair it was to be a Muggle.

Celenia's voice was soothing. "Mom was a Muggle," she'd croon. "There's nothing wrong with being a Muggle."

"But I don't want to be!" Elisabeth knew she was whining. She knew her nose was runny. But she didn't care.

Celenia looked at her with balanced and loving eyes. She held out a kerchief.

"I can tutor you, if you want." She'd offered this in the past.

Every time, Elisabeth felt patronized by the offer. She was not as well-balanced as Celenia. "You know how I feel about that," she muttered.

Celenia sighed, but it was not a frustrated sigh. Celenia was never frustrated.

"I just want to help you feel better. I love you." She stroked a hand through Elisabeth's ordinary curls.

"I love you, too, Celenia," Elisabeth sighed. Elisabeth's sigh was the resigned kind of sigh. The kind that hides words, like "whatever" and "yeah, I know."

Celenia was quiet for a moment. "It's not so great to be a witch right now, you know."

Elisabeth looked up at her sister through wet lashes, feeling skeptical. "Oh, no?"

Celenia shook her head. "No."

"Why?"

Celenia sighed. She supposed it was about time to tell her, anyway.

Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "He's back. You-know-who."

Elisabeth shivered. She stared at Celenia.

For a whole minute they stared at each other.

Elisabeth thought of all the things she knew about the wizarding world.
Then she thought about all of the things she didn't know.

She shuddered.

"Don't worry," Celenia was murmuring. She pulled Elisabeth back into her arms. "You have me. And Isabel. We'll watch over you."

Elisabeth snuggled into her sister's shoulder. Then an uncomfortable thought occurred to her.

She pulled away from Celenia's embrace, looking steadily into her eyes. "How long have you known?"

"A while." Celenia looked away. "I didn't want to burden you."

Elisabeth sighed. "It's not a burden. It's the truth."

"Sometimes the truth can be a burden," whispered Celenia.

Elisabeth shivered. They were quiet again for a while. Then, she asked, "What can we do?"

Celenia gathered her little sister into her arms again, cuddling her close.

"I don't think there's anything we can do, except wait."

Elisabeth felt a few hot tears soak into the shoulder of her sweater.

They weren't her own.


Elisabeth felt helpless.

Never before had she wished so fiercely to be a witch.

Isabel wanted to go join the fight. Celenia wouldn't let her. Even though Elisabeth knew that Celenia would have stopped her, too, she wished she could try. She dreamt of helping, of fighting. Of becoming a hero.

It was unbearable to go to school.

Everyone continued on with their lives, acting as though nothing was happening. Elisabeth wanted to shout at them. She hated how they carried on, laughing, kissing, fighting, taking their petty issues up with each other while people were out there dying. One day, when a boy she'd liked came up to her after school, she barely paid him any attention. He told her how beautiful she was. He asked her out. She thanked him for his attentions and walked away, distracted by her dread of the evening's news of the war. The boy was flabbergasted.

Then school was over, and the summer had begun.

Time drifted slowly, slowly, clouded and dark. There was little good news.

Mixed reports reached the Saunderon household, either through the few brave wizards who dared to continue Celenia's lessons, or those they encountered occassionally on the street. Everyone looked grave. Everything seemed dim. There was no way to tell if any of the efforts for good were making headway at all. There was barely any way to tell how much had truly happened.


Then, suddenly, it was over.

He was gone.


A few days after Elisabeth's seventeenth birthday, Isabel came inside with a huge pile of mail. Carefully dodging Celenia's standing potions, she plopped down at the kitchen table, tossed the papers in the middle, and started methodically tearing through them. Elisabeth watched from across the pile, occasionally looking up from Celenia's old Guide to Advanced Transfiguration.

Most of the mail was rejection letters. Many wizard organizations would not accept Isabel's services of Metal Charming, predominantly due to the fact that she had no experience. But that hadn't stopped her from applying to at least fifteen places.

"Never give up," she laughed, tearing into the fifth rejection letter. "That's my motto."

Celenia was hunched over a potion in the corner of the room. "Is there anything in there for me?" Her soft voice sounded vaguely hopeful.

Isabel thumbed through the parchment. "Nah, not that I can see."

Celenia sighed. "He told me he'd write this week."

Elisabeth looked over at her and frowned. "Who?"

Isabel was still talking. " ... but here's something for, uh … Elisabeth … ?" She pulled out a wide envelope.

Elisabeth turned to her lazily, expecting some kind of recruitment material. Loads of unremarkable occupations seemed to want to hire her lately. "What is it?"

Isabel was staring at the envelope in disbelief. "This has to be a mistake." Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

"Just give it to me already."

She reached across the table and snatched the envelope out of her sister's hands, flipping it around so she could read the emerald green lettering:

Ms E. Saunderson
The Third Room on the Right
10 Rabbit Ramble
Hove
East Sussex

Her hands were shaking, but she didn't need to open the letter. She knew what it was.

"Why now?" Isabel wondered out loud. But Elisabeth didn't care.

It was finally here.

Her letter had finally come.


There we go. Nice and edited.
Now the later chapters will actually make sense!