She had never been a normal person, but she was rather normal when she was born in London, England, in a small hospital to Muggle parents (of course she didn't know they were muggles at the time, but later she found out they were).

There had been some of the usual signs when she was young, cookies coming out of the cookie jar when her parents had said no, but she always got blamed for sneaking in the jar for them. Then, she adopted a cat when she was five, and her parents decided he was an outdoor cat. One day, the cat came inside for the night and ran straight for the young girl, and she squealed in delight as he dropped something in front of her. Normally he found her lost toys or stuffies but this time he brought a new toy. And it even moved on its own. He puts his paw on it to keep it from moving before the little girl picked it up.

"Mummy! Mummy! Look what Crookshanks brought me! A fairy!" she exclaimed, running over to her mum, with the thing in her childlike firm grip.

"But sweet, that isn't your toy, we have to find the owner of that."

Her mother kneeled to her daughter's height and noticed that the fairy is wiggling all around trying to get away.

"Ben," she calls, "Would you come here a minute?"

The father comes out of the drawing room and comes over to the two of women,, "What is it, dear?" he looked down at what was between the tyke's fingers, and kept looking, not processing what it was.

"A fairy, she says. Crookshanks brought it in apparently."

The parents talked and talked, taking the fairy (who had started talking gibberish) and sent their daughter to bed. Later it was found out that they took pictures and video of the fairy, then released her.

However the next few months brought the parents searching everywhere for an answer as to how that cat found a fairy. They called supernatural offices and did whatever research they could. They even tried finding the shop that they had gotten the cat from (which had strangely disappeared). Nothing. Nothing. They tried contacting continental supernatural investigators and even they said that they simply faked the videos, and that fairies didn't exist. Meanwhile, Crookshanks didn't bring anything else magical into the house. But that's also because he wasn't allowed out of the house.

One morning, several days before the girls 6th birthday, there was a knock on the heavy front wooden door, and nanny answered it, revealing a tall man, well, the young girl thought, a very tall and not very wide Santa, but it wasn't Christmas surely?

"Good evening," He made a slight bow of his head to the nanny, when suddenly his eyes lighted upon the small form slightly outside of the foyer, "May I come in? My name is Professor Dumbledore, I was contacted about a," was it just her or was there a twinkle in Santa's Professor Dumbledore's eye? "about a pest problem?"

The nanny knew he was talking about what Crookshanks found, so she led him in, and bade him wait for Mr. and Mrs. Smith.. After that she took the girl upstairs to her room, and bade her play with her dolls before dinner.

(Mrs. Smith's POV)

"Hello," the tall man bowed his head as I came in with my husband, "My name is Professor Dumbledore, I apologize for coming so unexpectedly, I only just found out about your situation an hour ago."

Where would he have been if he only found out an hour ago? Either way, this man was dressed much like all the other professionals that they had seen that told them they were liars and crazies.

"Really, Mr. Dumbledore, we don't want to be hearing the same thing everyone else has been telling us. We accept that what we saw was not true, that it must have just been too late at night and too many glasses of wine -"

"Oh no, Mrs. Smith, you misunderstand, I am not here to deny what you saw, in fact, I'm sure the fairy that was in your house was very, very real. I was, expectantly, more interested as to why you still know that it was a fairy that which you saw. You see, most people like you would have had their memories Obliviated by now."

"Our minds what?" My husband spoke up, cocking his head to the side, "Might I remind you, that you are in the home of a -"

"I am well aware what you do as a profession, sir, However that does not change the fact that you are a Muggle," he paused, most likely waiting for us to ask what a mug-whatever was, but as we just stared at him, he sighed and looked around the room, a slight smile on his face.

"I think this would be better sitting, and perhaps with drinks?"

From his coat he pulled a stick, and waved it a bit so as the chairs in the room rearranged themselves behind all of us and drinks appeared. . . out of thin air! Oh I must me dreaming, could I be?

"Ahh, much better," the strange man took a sip of the drink and smiled at us over his half-moon spectacles, "Now, where were we?"

My voice came out, soft, and very unlike how it usually was, or maybe it wasn't me at all, this was a dream after all, "You were inquiring about us being, I don't know what you said, Muggles?"

He nodded his head slowly, "Yes, yes, Muggles, or non-magical people, not a term of endearment, but not to cast you off either," he took another sip of the liquid.

"I am sure you are wondering why you being a muggle would be a problem with you knowing about fairies," Ben and I looked at each other, "Well, it turns out, you would find out about fairies, and every other magical creature anyways, because of your child, the lovely one I saw when I first came in here."

That eye twinkle was there again and I tensed, "Don't talk about (Y/n) like that, you are sick for speaking that way about a child."

Mr. Dumbledore looked taken aback for a second, but then resumed his calm demeanor and continued as if I hadn't said anything, "The thing is, you child is magical, and when she turns eleven, she will get a letter in the mail, asking her to come to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, of which I am Headmaster. In the meantime, you must keep this knowledge to yourselves, and must not share it with anyone."

And with a pop he was gone, and I kept waiting to wake up from the dream, but the days kept going like usual.

(Third-Person POV)

Her body convulsed with the pain, and she felt rather than heard the agonizing scream rip through her. She begged and begged for it to stop, but each time she begged, a new bout of pain came on.

It went on for what felt like an eternity, and she eventually stopped screaming, because she was so hoarse nothing was coming out. There were no tears, because there was simply nothing left. And after a while she just laid there, not being able to move, unsure if the curse was still being used on her or if they had stopped, because at some point the pain just all melded together, and she couldn't be certain if she was feeling the pain of one curse or of three.

Suddenly there was a shadow standing over her and she looked up (that also felt like it took an eternity) into the eyes of Pansy Parkinson.

"Learned your lesson yet, Mud-Blood filth?"

Her eyes flitted to the green and silver tie around Pansy's neck, the same that was currently on her, and she swore to herself that if she made it through this, she would become the most powerful Slytherin wizard, but she wouldn't do it the way He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has, no, she would infiltrate the system, and she would make everyone who stood in this room and spit on her today pay. But, she had to be cunning, just like her house should be.

"Yes."