(A/N) A quick note, so you don't get confused. This is a Next Generation story. Lily Evans is NOT Harry's mom, Professor Percival Dumbledore is NOT Albus Dumbledore. Petunia Evans is NOT Aunt Petunia. The stories of who these characters are and why they have the names they do will be revealed through the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 1: A Strange Visit

"Knock, knock, knock."

Mum and Dad opened the door. Standing on the doorstep was the most remarkable person they had ever seen. He was wearing a green and blue sweater vest over a bright red tee-shirt with polka-dot pants. His greying auburn hair was cut short, but his beard hung to his waist. Assuming his mismatched clothes were the product of simple colour-blindness, they tried not to stare.

"Hello," he said, smiling. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Evans."

"Yes, I'm Ben and this is my wife Martha." Looking worried, he added, "How do you know our names? Have we met before?"

"I'm sorry if I distressed you. I promise you, everything will be explained," he said with his most reassuring smile. "My name is Professor Percival Dumbledore. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Dad had given a violent start and become lost in memories when Professor Dumbledore introduced himself, but he recovered himself and responded, "No, of course not."

"Good. Now, if I could please speak with your daughter, Lily."

Mum started to protest; she wasn't going to let me talk to any stranger that just walked in and asked to, but my father cut her off. "Of course you can talk to Lily, but I need to talk to you alone, and then my wife and I need to speak to you." His voice had been as though he was speaking of something important, but after he said this, his voice became sterner and he added, "After you have talked to us, then you can ask to talk to her."

Professor Dumbledore gave him a penetrating look, and agreed to speak to him alone. Mum walked off to the kitchen to resume cleaning up dinner, and Dad led Professor Dumbledore to the sitting room. When they were in the sitting room, Professor Dumbledore started to ask, "Why do–" but Dad had already started speaking.

He was mumbling and sounded as though he was talking to himself, although he sometimes addressed Professor Dumbledore. "You're from a school… What was the name…? Pig…? Hog…? Well, it doesn't matter… All that matters is that it's a school for witches and wizards… So you're a wizard… Is my daughter a witch…? Is that why you're here…? To take her to your school…?"

Professor Dumbledore had not been expecting this response. "How do you know about Hogwarts? Or that I work there?"

Dad appeared to be in shock and was still unable to form a complete sentence. "Most famous headmaster Hogwarts ever had… Taught my sister… Dumbledore…"

Understanding spread over Professor Dumbledore's face. "You're sister was a muggle-born too. That's how you know about Hogwarts." He took my dad by the arm and led him to the couch, while continuing to talk. "And you're remembering my father, Albus Dumbledore. He was the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had. I'm nowhere near as great as he was."

Dad was starting to calm down. "Did you know my sister? Lily Evans?"

Professor Dumbledore thought. "Tell me more about her. Her name sounds familiar, but I can't place her."

Still sounding hurried and nervous, dad began to speak, "I never met her, or my other sister Petunia. I was lost as a baby and grew up away from my family. I know she was a muggle-born; she married and had one son, but she and her husband were murdered in their early twenties when their son was one year old. I don't remember her husband's name, but I think her son was named Harry and I know he survived when they died, but I've never met him.

Professor Dumbledore had been listening with increasing surprise and disbelief. "That Lily Evans! She is better known by her married name: Lily Potter. Her son, Harry Potter, is even more famous!"

"My sister was famous?"

"Very. She gave her life to protect her son, thereby giving him the essential tool to defeat the most evil wizard of all time, against whom she had spent her life fighting!"

Dad was becoming overwhelmed again, so Professor Dumbledore left him to calm down and went to the kitchen to talk to Mum.

Mum's reaction was almost identical to Dad's. In the calm manner that was peculiar to him, Professor Dumbledore informed her that I was a witch and therefore belonged in the wizard world instead of the muggle (non-magic) world. He was going to take me to his school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so I could be trained in how to use my magic. It was a boarding school in Scotland, but I could come home for Christmas, Easter, and summer breaks. By the time he finished, Dad was calm, and came into the kitchen to calm Mum. As Dad entered the kitchen, Professor Dumbledore asked again to speak to me. Dad agreed and walked to the entry hall to call me downstairs.

I was upstairs in my room, reading my favourite book. I was so immersed in it, as I was whenever I was reading, that dad had to call me a couple times before his voice penetrated through to Ireland where I was watching a fifteen year old Artemis Fowl fight his ten year old self. When I heard my dad's call, I sat up, and placed a bookmark on the page I had been reading. I brushed my long red hair behind my ear as it fell over my reading glasses before standing up and walking to the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Yes, dad?" I asked my father, who was waiting below.

"There is a guest here who would like to speak to you. He's waiting in the sitting room for you."

I was surprised. I hadn't realized there was a guest. I nodded and dad walked back to the kitchen while I walked downstairs to the sitting room.

When I walked into the sitting room, I was stunned at Professor Dumbledore's appearance just as my parents had been. His clothes caught me first, but his bright, twinkling, electric blue eyes just added to the general oddness of his appearance. However, like my parents, I tried to be polite, so I sat down and waited for him to begin speaking.

"Hello. My name is Professor Dumbledore. I work for a school called Hogwarts, which you are invited to attend." He stopped as he saw I had a question.

"Do my parents know about this?"

"Yes, of course." He paused again, but I did not ask more questions, so he continued. "This school is not for normal children." I let my surprise and indignation show on my face, but he ignored it and continued. "It is for witches and wizards."

Although the surprise was starting to fade as the conversation continued, the indignation remained, and I burst out, "Are you calling me a witch?"

Against the provocation I purposefully provided, Professor Dumbledore remained calm. "Yes, you are a witch." He kept talking over my violent protests. "What you don't realize is that the term does not mean what you think it does. It is not degrading in any way. It simply means that you are human, female, and can use magic."

At the mention of magic, the indignation too disappeared, replaced by great interest. "I can use magic?" I asked. I tried to keep my voice neutral, but even to my ears there was an unmistakable tone of great interest and excitement.

Professor Dumbledore gave me a penetrating look, as he had looked at my father earlier. I felt as though he was x-raying me, but I knew he was looking straight into my soul. At last, he responded to my question. "Yes, you can use magic." He paused for a moment before adding, "But I believe you already knew that."

I hesitated as I searched for an answer, and he gave me the same penetrating look. Under that x-ray stare, I confessed he was right. "I always thought it was magic. I mean, what else could it be?"

"What, exactly, did you think was magic?"

"All the stuff I can do."

"I must ask you to be specific. What is it you can do?"

Before answering, I stared at him with the same look he had used earlier, although my bright green eyes did not have the same x-ray effect his twinkling blue ones did. I wanted to see if he was trustworthy, if he would call me a freak. I saw nothing but curiosity and interest, so I started to answer. "Anything I want, really. I can make things out of thin air, like books when I don't have time to go to the library. I can make light when it's dark or make things move without touching them. I can change things into different things, or change their appearance. Every morning when I dress, my clothes change colour and pattern to match perfectly. I can make small amounts of food from the kitchen appear in my room and make them larger so they're big enough to eat. I can disappear and reappear somewhere else instantaneously." I had started out slow, and cautious, but sped up with excitement as I explained everything I could do, and as I saw no inclination in his face to call me a freak.

When I was finished, Professor Dumbledore stared at me in surprise. He couldn't comprehend how an untrained eleven year old girl was as advanced as any seventh year at Hogwarts, and could even apparate. To be sure of his suspicions, he asked, "You can do this all wilfully; on purpose? It's not something that just happened without explanation?"

"Yeah, mostly. I don't notice my clothes changing; that happens by itself. But pretty much everything else I do on purpose."

"Very well. Thank you for being so specific and forthcoming. Will you attend Hogwarts?"

"What do my parents think?"

"They needed time to comprehend everything I told them; they didn't give any sort of response. You can go ask them now if you like."

I ran off to the kitchen to talk to my parents. A few minutes later I returned to the sitting room, my parents following behind me. Professor Dumbledore looked around at us, waiting for one of us to explain what had just been discussed in the kitchen without him.

"Of course she'll go to Hogwarts," my mum said. "There's really no alternative is there?"

"I'm sorry to say that there is no alternative. Wizard families may home school their children if they like, but that is not available to muggle families such as yourselves.

Sounding impatient, my dad burst in, "Very well. She'll go to Hogwarts, but we need more information. How will she get there? Where will she get her supplies? How will she pay for her supplies?" Dad left off as though there were still many questions to be answered, but he thought they would be answered without having to be asked.

Professor Dumbledore spoke in a quick and concise manner. "A train leaves at 11:00 on the first of September every year from Platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross Station. Platform 9 ¾ can be accessed by simply walking through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Supplies can be bought in Diagon Alley. I will escort you to Diagon Alley. You can exchange muggle money for wizard money in Gringotts, the bank in Diagon Alley. Wizards use owls to carry their mail. The muggle post cannot get to Hogwarts. Lily will be able to come home for Christmas, Easter, and Summer breaks. Do you have any other questions?"

Neither Mum nor Dad had any further questions, so I spoke up and asked one of my own. "When will we go to Diagon Alley?"

"If you are all amenable, I shall escort you there tomorrow morning."

"Petunia and my parents too?"

"Of course. If they wish to come."

Dad spoke up, "Of course, we'll all come." Mum gave him a questioning look, and a short and silent conversation ensued. Dad would have to miss work to come with us, and Mum didn't approve of Dad missing work unless he was sick. After a couple minutes, it appeared that any scruples she had were assuaged.

"Good. I shall come back here at 10:00 tomorrow morning to escort the four of you to Diagon Alley."

With this, Professor Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the door, but Mum began to protest. "What! Won't you stay here? I wouldn't dream of having you leave." Mum was very well mannered and couldn't let someone spend the night imposing on someone else's hospitality, or worse, staying at an inn, if they could stay at our house.

But Professor Dumbledore overrode her. "I thank you very much for your kind hospitality, but I could never intrude. It is no trouble at all; it takes only a second to get home and I would prefer my own bed."

Mum could not fight against the pull of his own home, and his own bed, so she let him leave. Before he left, he handed me an envelope made of heavy parchment, with "Ms. L. Evans The Disney Bedroom Number 26 Cherry Tree Avenue Sevenoaks Kent" written on the front in emerald ink. I tucked the letter in a pocket, to look at later, and turned to Mum, ecstatic.

"Oh! Mummy, can I go tell Tuney?"

Mum was about to say no, but at the look of excitement on my face, she relented. "Yes, you can go tell her. But I want you both in bed in half an hour. It's late and we've got a big day tomorrow."

Unable to contain my excitement, I ran upstairs to tell Petunia, my 9 year-old sister, what had just happened. Petunia was just as thrilled as I was when she learned what had been happening downstairs while she was upstairs preparing for bed. She wanted to know if she was a witch too. I didn't know, but I told her to ask Professor Dumbledore the next day when he took us to Diagon Alley. We were both so excited for the next day that our allotted half-hour ended in what felt like a couple minutes. Although both of us wanted to stay up, and felt much too keyed up to sleep, there was no arguing with our mother when she came up to tell us it was bedtime. Petunia and I went to bed and both managed to fall asleep with little trouble.

(A/N) I hope you liked it! Please, please, review. It's my first story and I need the feedback!

Next chapter: Lily visits Diagon Alley and meets the Potter family!