Prologue

For once, the Forbidden Forest was quiet. A fox padded silently through the trees, eyes constantly roving across the path in search of something. It suddenly stopped and its ears perked up. In the blink of an eye it reared back onto its hind legs and morphed into a threatening-looking man with long black hair and a pale outline of a scar on his cheek.

"I knew you would come." A voice drifted through the bushes. Fallen leaves of many colors crackled as a goblin pushed its way into the small clearing. "Get to the point," snarled the man. "I've got to get back to Hogsmeade to take my Polyjuice Potion." "No need to get excited," said the goblin calmly. He took a long package out of his coat. The man swiped at it but the goblin quickly pulled it out of the way. "Pay up," he said. Grumbling, the man drew out a bag of galleons and gave it to the goblin as he eagerly snatched his prize.

As the goblin scrambled away warily through the trees, the scar-faced man sat down heavily on a tree root, still clutching the parcel. "Finally!" he said, and then he looked around suspiciously as if expecting someone to be listening in. A sparrow cooed and flew out of a nearby tree.

Chapter 1: Party

"Dammit!" "What is it this time, Jay?" "Banged my head!" "Again?" "Possibly." I, Jainda Minerva Ariana Apple Dumbledore, had started my morning ritual.

Long, strange names ran in my family on my dad's side. Luckily everyone called me Jay, because Jainda didn't really work for me (what were my parents thinking?), but my completely random first name wasn't what drew people's attention, nor was it the fact that it was such a long list of names. It was my last name. People tend to notice when you're related to one of the most famous good wizards of all time.

He was my uncle, actually. My dad Aberforth was his brother. Still, I never met him. He died 7 years before I was born, but his shadow still haunts me.

Whatever I did inherit from my uncle, it certainly wasn't grace or poise. I was always one of those kids who constantly tripped going up stairs, coming down, on flat surfaces, and over my own feet. Clumsy didn't even begin to cover it. I'm uncoordinated, a klutz, and I lack a single balanced bone in my body. That's why it wasn't a good idea for my parents to startle me as I shuffled down the stairs in my pajamas, rubbing at my sleepy eyes.

"Surprise!" the lights flicked on to reveal a room full of relations. I teetered on the edge of the step in shock and fell just as my trigger-happy mum snapped a picture. My tumble down half a flight of stairs ending with a huge smack to my head would be commemorated forever. I groaned with embarrassment as I sank into unconsciousness...

When I woke up my mum was waving her wand over me and muttering something. Dad always said it was a good thing he fell in love with a St. Mungos medic, because I wouldn't have survived the first 6 years of my life otherwise. My mum was the only daughter in a big family, and it seemed all 5 of my uncles had showed up to my surprise party and I saw each of their worried faces hovering above me: uncle Mark, the solid, quiet one; Uncle Larry, an Auror that I'd always secretly been a little scared of; Uncle Bart, talkative and friendly, he always crushed my ribs with his hugs; Uncle Neal, an introverted scholar who always seemed to look on kids as minor nuisances to be placated with good presents a few times a year; and lastly my favorite, Uncle Jake. He was the first one to speak. "Jay, how do you feel? That was a nasty fall, but no doubt not your worst."

"I'm fine, been there done that," I said dismissively. Brushing off my platoon of uncles, I stood up. Then it hit me: the reason for the part I had ruined. I finally spotted the huge banner with a vibrantly colored Hogwarts crest on it: "Good luck in your first year!" it said. It was a going-away party, and I realized that I had only a day before I had to get on the Hogwarts Express and hope that I wasn't too timid to get off the train. Almost more importantly, I had a day to pack, and packing was not a skill of mine; I tended to throw whatever came to hand into my bag at random and hope I had all I needed. Still, who could be bothered to pack when there was cake?

As the party resumed, I wandered around with a slice of cake in one hand and a butterbeer in the other, being congratulated by various relatives and neighbors. Still, it felt a bit oppressive. There was too much pressure; my mum hoped I'd be in Ravenclaw, my dad seemed to be okay with any house but I could tell he was secretly rooting for Gryffindor, and every single person in the room had an opinion as to what house I should be in and where I'd actually end up. To be honest, I was scared out of my mind for Hogwarts. I wouldn't know many people there, except in an odd twist Uncle Jake, who had replaced Argus Filch as caretaker and was much kinder to the students. And I did NOT want to be in Slytherin. I'd never heard anything good about it, and my own little brother, who my parents had inexplicably named Julius, had promised me he would never speak to me again if I was in Slytherin. Uncle Jake, on the other hand, had promised to do all he could to get me moved to another house if that happened. He understood my panic.

I looked over at the corner where my brother was scarfing down cake fondly. He was only eight, a cute demon who was always bouncing off the walls. Still, I couldn't help wanting to hug him, even if it meant being shocked with a Muggle prank device he bought at Weasely's Wizard Wheezes. I was going to miss him. But how could I even have time to miss him when I was sure I would die of fright first?