FLASHBACK

"Everly Smith!"

I remember quite distinctly how shaky my knees were. How the sweat from nervousness were making my over-sized glasses slide off my nose. For one, I hated getting up in front of crowds. Heck, I still do.

I thought I would pass out from the anxiety. My last name was Smith. Not exactly the name of a prestigous, wizardly family. Besides, I didn't even know my real last name. When I was born, my parents would only tell them that their last name was "S." Then they left.

The first ten years of my life were the worst. Growing up in foster homes was horrific, to say the least. Then when Hagrid came to tell me about Hogwarts, everything changed.

Which brings me to my second point, I knew nothing about the wizardly world.

"Gryffindor!" The hat spouted out as soon as I felt it touch my frizzy black hair.

I didn't even know what to think of that moment. But when I glanced back at the long line of teacher's applauding, I knew it was going to be good.

I pulled the hood of my cape tighter around my head, as my ears felt like they were going to freeze off. The wind blew treacherously through Knockturn Alley. I frantically found the street address I had been looking for.

"13B." I whispered to myself. Glancing down at my father's handwriting on a scrap sheet of paper.

The tarnished doorbell of the shop rang as I stepped onto the creaky floorboards. I had still not let my hood down, being very cautious of what might be lurking in the dimly-lit shop.

I glanced around the shop to find two platinum blond heads of hair at the register. They only stuck out like a sore thumb, being as bright as they were. All summer I had enjoyed the peace and solitude of being alone. I didn't want that to end now with someone from school noticing me.

I quickly turned my back to glance at a random artifact, but cringed when I realized a deck of cards I had picked up were splattered with blood. Mental note: Don't pick up anything in Borgin and Burkes.

"Good dealings, Borgin," I heard Lucius Malfoy say, as he headed for the door, his cape flying behind him as well as his son on his heels.

I turned my head to meet eye contact with Borgin behind the counter. I tugged my hood down off my head, revealing my curly, black braided mess of hair.

"Borgin." I said, approaching the counter.

"Miss Everly," the shop owner I could tell was trying to maintain his excitement. "What will it be this year?"

I took the satchel out from underneath my cloak and laid random potions and tiny artifacts from my father on the table.

Borgin's eyes lit up. "Fifty galleons."

"It's yours for fourty. You may upcharge your clients, Borgin, but that doesn't mean I've fallen enough to do the same."

"Pleasure doing business." Borgin disregarded my words, obviously enthralled with his new products as he gathered them off the counter.

I smirked and turned away, putting the satchel now full of coins back under my cloak and pulling my hood back over my head to brave the chilled wind.

"Tell Severus I said hello." Mr. Borgin almost yelled to me as I reached the door.

"I'll give him your best." I flung the door open and headed out to safe ground.

So yes. Now you know the secret that many don't.

My real name is Everly Snape.