Okay, I apologize if this is too different from the original version of Simply Mudblood. It's just that modifying the actual Harry Potter books is a sudden interest of mine. There may be spoilers from the entire book series in this story, so be warned. But don't worry, I'm not going to give anything majorly huge away, because this is Alice's story, not Harry's.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That's why it's called a fanfiction. Also, the school I mentioned at the end of the chapter is a real school in London. Not mine at all.


Every little girl and boy always dreams of going to the magical land of wizards, but once they get there, they are trapped. It doesn't take a wizard to figure that out.

Ever since I was a child, I dreamed of Fairyland, of Neverland, of everywhere but here. I dreamed that one day a Unicorn would come and take me away from this dark and dull place I once called home. I even dreamed that I would step into water and find myself a beautiful mermaid, and be able to swim away from all my troubles. And the best of all, I dreamed myself as a magnificent sorcerer, feared by all the world.

But once you're feared, you're never treated the same.

CHAPTER 1

I sat awake in bed, dreaming of a world unlike mine, wishing that I were a part of it. Half the other girls and boys were dreaming of it, so why shouldn't I?

And then there was a bump on the window. A tap on the window. I might as well open the window, I remember thinking. If it's a burglar, there's nothing here I'm too interested in keeping.

I opened the window, awakening the night sky. It wasn't a burglar. It was an owl.

He cooed softly as I let him perch on my arm. I noticed how he's not jabbing his claws into me, and I realize he must be well trained. I carefully untied the bit of parchment from the snowy white owl's leg, and he moved to my shoulder so I could use both arms to open it. Another coo whispered from his small black beak, and I began to read.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Clough,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed

a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than

July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I got a good laugh out of this. Seriously? I'm a witch? But I had to admit, the person who pulled this was pretty good; the letter looked so official, and the owl was trained so well! I decided to read on to the next page and see if it's just as lame as the first.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOK

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

By Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic

By Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory

By Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration

By Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

By Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions

By Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

By Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

By Wuentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT

ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Wow.

. . .

The person who wrote this has no life.

No life.

At all.

Why?

Because they spend their entire day writing a list of school supplies for a non-existent school to see if someone thinks it's real!

I was laughing; I was seriously laughing. I couldn't believe that some idiot took their time to pull a prank on me! It's just so stu–

"Alice!" A shriek from downstairs cut my laughter short. Mum, I thought. She always had to ruin the moment. "Get your butt down here right now, missy. You've got a lot of work to do!"

I glanced at the letter, and shrug, writing 'yes' on the back of the parchment. "ALICE! COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" With a sly smile, I tied it back onto the owl's leg. I'll play along, I decided. It just might be fun.

***

I crept downstairs at the dead of night on July thirty-first. I hadn't heard from the owl since, and though I did believe that it was a fake, I had a tugging feeling in my gut. I had to go downstairs. I had to see if it was true.

No, no! I stopped halfway down the staircase. Alice, listen to yourself: You're going downstairs to see if you're magic? I laughed at myself, (though not loud enough for my sleeping parents to hear.) Then, I heard something.

There was a knock at the door.

I stood there, frozen. It's just your imagination.

I backed up one step. You're just freaking out because of that stupid letter.

I turned my flashlight on, but it shut off right away, like how they do in those horror movies. Snap out of it!

I then heard a popping noise, and I let out a small squeak.

"Alice?"

I cannot move. I am frozen.

"Alice Clough?"

I am a brick. I cannot make a sound.

"We received your acceptation to Hogwarts," the woman's voice said. "I'm here to pick you up."

No. I felt ice cold. The woman must have heard my teeth chattering, because there she was, stomping up the staircase towards me. She was a plump woman wearing a rather large pointed hat, but the rest of her features were a mask under the black of night and unlit room.

"Yes, ma'am," I heard myself say. If she was here to kidnap me, I didn't want her to kill me right here in my own house. The staircase was the worst place to spend my last moments, especially in the Clough Mansion; there were about twelve of 'em, and nobody would find your dead body for at least a week. This was the last place I wanted to die!

The woman chuckled pleasantly, and put a warm hand on my shoulder. I flinched a bit, but her voice soothed me. "I'm Pomona Sprout, professor of Herbology at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts . . . " I repeated, the name sounding foreign in my mouth. "Is it real?"

The woman nodded. "Yes it is. Now, let me get a better look at you. Lumos." A bright light sprouted from the stick she was holding, and I got a clear view of her face. I sighed in relief. She didn't look nearly as scary as I'd imagined.

Her hair was curly brown with a few wisps of gray, and her face was sweet and plump. She was wearing what seemed to be a green rag, and a soggy brown hat. "Come with me, Alice," the woman said as she guided me to the bottom floor. "I'm to bring you to Diagon Alley and then to Hogwarts. All Muggle-borns must be guided by a wizard to get their school supplies."

"Aren't you going to tell my parents?" I said carefully.

"Your mum's mum was a Squib, so she should know about wizards," Sprout whispered. "Besides, they were the ones who wrote back accepting our invitation, right?"

"Right," I mumbled.

Before we left the door, I looked back. Was I really leaving my whole life to go after one that might not even be real? One that might be a huge ploy to get rid of me? I thought for a moment. Yes, I am.

I followed Pomona Sprout out the door, and into the cool night air. "Now," the woman said. "We are going to do something called Apparition." She held out her arm, and I grabbed onto it. "Hold on tightly." The last thing that I saw was her knowing smile, though now when I think about it, it was more of a smirk.

***

If you ever plan on Apparating, then don't. It feels like your being squeezed through a small tube the size of your wrist, then inflated back up again. I was still recovering from the travel, when I saw where we were. My jaw dropped.

"This is Diagon Alley," said Professor Sprout, smiling pleasantly. "We're here to get your school supplies."

There were women, and men, and boys, and girls, all shuffling around along the alley, and in and out the line of stores. I felt a surge of excitement as I stared at the people in the funny cloaks, running around, carrying books, owls, and wands.

That day had definitely been the most magnificent I had ever experienced.

Sprout handed me a sack of coins, but when I opened it, I was dismayed to find that they were only fake coins, probably only to be used for games like the ones they had at Chuck e Cheeze. Sprout saw my eyes droop with disappointment, and smiled in an amused way.

"They're Galleons," she said cheerfully. When I let my eyebrow raise, she sighed impatiently, her large, saggy face seeming older than before. "Wizard money."

"Oh." With that, Ms. Sprout turned around, and headed towards the closest shop.

It was old, faded, and half the words were falling off, but I could still read what it said. 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.' Wands? This was absolutely incredible! I would meet someone who had the power to make wands! I didn't linger on the thought for long, as the broken, unhinged door, and the tainted, webbed windows were already luring me in.

When I got inside, I realized that there was nothing in the rickety old building. It was just an ancient library of some sort, I guessed. Shelves, were lined up all over the single room, each one filled with long, thin cases. They reminded me a bit of shoe-boxes, and I began to wonder if I had walked into the right store.

"Hello." There was a man sitting at the desk up-front. How could I have missed him?

I stared into his pale eyes, and noted at the intelligence hidden far beneath the depth of mystery concealing it.

"I'm Alice," I whispered, unsure of what to say. "Alice Clough."

"Why yes," the strange old man said curiously. "My father told me about a woman by the name Dorthea Chevalier. You have the same eyes as her. She was your great grandmother, I take it?"

"Why the – how the – " How did this man know who my great grandmother was? I mean, I'd barely even talked to him for a minute, and he already knew this much information about me? Maybe I shouldn't have come after all . . .

"Five inch holly, phoenix feather core. Very good for defensive spells. Now," said the silly man, "we should try and find you a wand. Some measurements should be in order." He disappeared into a small closet, then came out with a measuring stick. "Here we are," he said, holding it up to me. After he finished, he disappeared again to put it away.

He came back with one of the thin boxes, and opened it. There was a a wand.

"Hawthorn, twelve and a half inch, dragon heartstring core. Here," he gave me the wand, and I stared at it. What was I supposed to do with it? But then, almost immediately, he whisked the wand away, and gave me a new one. "Try this."

"But – "

"No, that won't do. This one will surely be better." The man gave me another, but took that one away as well. Next he gave me a short, stumpy wand, and I began to wonder why he had bothered to measure me at all. "This one resembles your great grandmother's very much. Perhaps it will work? No, it doesn't. Such a shame."

"Er . . . "

"Perhaps a unicorn hair?" He handed me the wand. "No. It just won't cooperate, will it?"

"Um, no?" I said, hoping this was the right answer. The crazy old man ignored me, so I assumed it was correct.

Soon the desk was full of the magic sticks, and I was beginning to seriously doubt this man. But then, when Mr. Ollivander went back to the shelves one last time, a mysterious glint appeared in his moony eyes. He opened the box, and pulled out a long branch.

"Fourteen inch ash . . . Thestral Hair." I wondered why he had emphasized the word as he gave me an old looking wand. But before I could come up with a decision on why he acted this way, a feeling of warmth and power spread through me. It happened as soon as I touched the wand, and I immediately knew that this was the wand for me. It was as though the wand and I were connected in some way . . . like we belonged together; an old friend, almost.

"I wonder," I suddenly remembered the presence of Ollivander; I had forgotten about him in the amazement, "why you received this wand, when there were so many others to choose you."

"Come again?"

"The wand chooses the wizard, Alice," the man said, whispering his words hoarsely. "This wand in particular is over a thousand years old."

I held the wand in my hand, feeling a bit creeped out. "Well, I'll – um – just . . . pay you and leave . . . now." I gave him seven of the big gold galleons, then left as fast as I could.

"So did you get your wand?" Sprout's words caught me off guard; I had forgotten she was there! I held up my wand, and she gave an approving nod. "A bit dusty, isn't it? Ah, well. Now, let's get you some robes."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, wanting to get as far away from Ollivanders that I could. The thought of seeing that man again sent chills down my back.

We walked past several of shops, such as Gambol & Japes, and Magical Menagerie, and eventually we got to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. It wasn't a big store, but it was larger than the wand shop, and much more well kept.

I stepped into the robe shop, and found a friendly looking, squat woman attending to a tall, red haired boy about the age of my brother; fifteen, maybe. I cleared my throat, and she moved her head away from the scarlet robes to look at me.

"Hogwarts, or dress robes?" the woman asked sweetly. The boy she was sizing looked rather annoyed, but said nothing as I replied.

"Hogwarts, please."

"Well, excuse me then, sir, but this girl needs it for school."

The teen pursed his lips, and whispered venomously, "I have Hogwarts robes after this."

"Why, your father hasn't payed me enough for the both of them; it's either one or the other."

"Dress robes, then." She nodded, like she expected this, then she came towards me.

The woman measured me in much the way that Ollivander had, then walked into the back room, and came back with a few black robes to try on. "Try these on, and then come back with the one that fits the best, and I'll help you." The woman went back to attending him, and I decided to search for a changing room.

I came back wearing fresh, black robes, feeling rather airy in my first pair of wizard clothing. The woman, who I now guessed was Madam Malkin, was finished with her previous customer.

"You know," I heard him say. "I think I like the emerald better."

The woman sighed, and waved her wand, turning it green. "Better?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"Much." The boy gave Madam Malkin a curt nod, then left the store, his robes floating behind him.

Malkin sighed, then drifted over to me. She held a needle and thread, and began to fit me into my robes.

Soon I was back in my camo pants, black tang top, green sweatshirt, and black tennis shoes. My robes had costed the same amount as my wand had, which made me wonder how valuable they were, but I got over it quickly. It was for adolescents, which meant that I'd be getting new ones every year. It's not like I'd want a high quality outfit that I would only wear for one year. I left the store carrying my new school uniform, and found Professor Sprout outside.

We stopped by Eeylops Owl Emporium to get me a letter carrier next. I remember searching through hundreds of owls before finding the perfect peanut butter colored one. Being the uncreative person I am, I named him Peanut Butter. Then I changed it to Butterscotch.

Afterwards, we went to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary and Pottidge's Cauldron Shop to get my potions supplies. When we were at Pottidge's, I had my eyes on this really pretty green cauldron, but Sprout thought to buy otherwise. She thought that getting what everyone else was would be the best for my personality development, or whatever. Why do teachers always have to go by the rules? I mean, I don't see how getting green instead of the standard color will affect my personality, but apparently the teacher always knows what's right.

When we were done with that, we sorted through all sorts of book shops for my school books, but it was rather uninteresting, and I didn't pay attention half the time. I just gave them my school list and the clerks looked through the books for me.

We passed by a broom shop, too, though I don't know what that was all about. Why sell brooms in the wizarding world when you could just clean your house with the flick of a wand? When I asked Sprout this, she told me that it was for Quidditch, which left me more confused than before. I decided not to ask, just in case it was one of those things that people talk about for hours at a time.

Before long, I was back in my room with wizard school supplies, and my parents still thought I was going to the Rochester boarding school in London. I wasn't sure how this was going to go. Closing my eyes, I imagined what I would say the next morning.

"Hey, Mom! I'm a witch, did I tell you? I know that you payed lots of money for it, but I can't go to that fancy school you signed me up for, because I have to go to Hogwarts to learn magic."

I felt myself sighing, as I pulled the covers of my bed over my body. This was going to be a long day.


If you didn't understand anything, or I made a mistake, please review, and I will change it. If you have any criticism, or just want to state your opinion on the chapter, please review. I would greatly appreciate it. Plus, if you review, then you'll know whether I've updated the story or not. That be a good thing, well, only if you liked it.