A/N: Thank you so much for choosing this particular story to read. I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it. This story happens in the Hogwarts Mystery game scenario, with my character as the main protagonist. The story will unfold along with the game, so while I'm playing, I'll surely upload more chapters. Before we start, I'd like to point out that English is not my mother language, so some misspelling and grammar mistakes may happen during the story. Also, I decided to add verses of lyrics that I think fit well for each chapter. In addition, I'd like to let you know that I have an Instagram page for this fanfic, where I post funny parts of the game, aesthetics and more. If you feel like checking out, it's at jillklein dot ff. Any comments, critiques and concerns, feel free to contact me.

This chapter has been rewritten.

Chapter One – Haunted

You used to captivate me by your resonating light

Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams

Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me*

Oscar Wilde once said that dreams do come true, but what people forget to mention is that nightmares are dreams too. This is one undeniable truth that I've come to learn. This, and the fact that if I colour my brother's vinyl with crayons, they won't work anymore. We are prone to learning a lot of truths throughout our lives. The most recent one regards woeful images that insist on haunting my dreams.

I've had nightmares before. I think everyone, in a moment or another, is doomed to experience the uneasiness of bad dreams. Whether you're just a kid, flickering your eyelids and trembling under the covers with the unceasing image of a monster that never tires to torment your imaginative mind, or just a puppy that is afraid of the umbrella rested against the wall, the undeniable truth is that nightmares come for everyone.

This time, I'm not dreaming of monsters. No ghosts lurking in the shadows… no demons hiding underneath my bed. The swirling sceneries are dark and sinister, and they lead me to shadowy corners of my unconsciousness, until I can no longer leave. They freeze my soul like water from a wintery lake, piercing my skin like a thousand needles, leaving me breathless. I'm being haunted by these images ever since he left.

Jacob…

I wake up, drenched in a cold damp sweat, with my heart pounding so fast that I'm afraid it might explode from the inside out. I dry the tears that unceasingly fall down my cheeks and look around, longing for the comfort of knowing that I'm wide awake, safe in my own bedroom, and that the worst is gone. The cold that lingers is what binds me to my nightmares. I rub my arms, trying to find any kind of warmth, but it's no use. I feel as if I'm buried in snow.

The soft gleam of my night light fades a portion of my affliction. I get up, trying to walk as silently as possibly not to wake my grandparents, and enter the bedroom across the corridor.

Jacob's bedroom.

It's become my night routine to wake up from vicious nightmares and wander around in his bedroom. Somehow, it makes me feel better. I feel, whatever so naively, that he's watching over me. A heavy weight falls upon my heart with the single thought that he might be dead. I close my hands into fists, praying that, wherever he is, he is safe.

"Athena?" my grandmother's voice startles me. I turn around abruptly, only to find her standing by the doorway, eyeing me with concern. "What are you doing in here?"

"I couldn't sleep," I lie, though the truth is I can sleep, but it leads me to haunted places I don't wish to visit.

"I know," she says, walking to me and closing her arms around me in a soothing hug. "Tomorrow is a very important day. I'm sure you're anxious."

Thought I wish this was the reason, there's no denying that it is not. I'm not feeling anxious or nervous or excited.

I'm just… haunted.

"There's no need to be in here, honey," she tells me. "C'mon. Go back to bed and try to get some sleep."

I give one last glance at Jacob's bedroom before returning to my own. Grandma sits next to me in my bed, running her fingers through my hair in a comforting way. I'm sure she's experiencing some despair too, but I'm also sure that when she closes her beautiful amber eyes, there are no nightmares to haunt her dreams. That's why I simply lay there, allowing her to lull me back to sleep, and don't share the dark visions that torment my mind. She doesn't need nor deserves such negativity. It's best if I just keep it for myself.

Even thought, I must admit, I wish I had someone I could share this terror with. Someone that wouldn't look at me with concern nor would think that I'm crazy or frightful.

Someone who would understand…

From the clock above my desk, I can see it's past midnight. Today is the day that I'll finally go to Diagon Alley to get my supplies for Hogwarts. I know I should be excited, but the only thing I can feel is fear. I'm aware of the reputation that Jacob probably holds at Hogwarts and I'm sure people will believe I'll be just like him. It frightens me that I might walk through all seven school years with no friend. The only thing that soothes me is that they didn't know my brother like I did. They didn't have the luck of having him as a sibling.

I did.

That's all that matters.

I don't know how many hours pass before I fall asleep again, but when I wake up, there are strong sunbeams flooding my bedroom and warming the chills inside my heart. Grandma isn't next to me anymore. She probably went to bed after I fell asleep, but the delicious sugary scent coming from downstairs warns me that she's making breakfast.

I head to the kitchen, still is my pyjamas, and find my grandparents already dressed. They seem to be more excited than I am, since my magical education is about to begin. I confess it will be nice to swish a wand and learn everything I can about enchantments, potions and history, but the dark memories and the cold fear return to erase my joy.

There's a big pile of hot waffles on the place I usually sit, along with a bubbling cup of tea. I sit there and Grandma rushes to place a kiss on my head before sitting down to eat too. I look at her and Grandpa and feel happy for having them with me while Mom and Dad are looking for Jake. Grandpa flashes me a warm smile as he puts down his cup and opens the newspaper. He always smells of tobacco and this is a strangely calming scent for me.

It smells like home.

"Are you excited for our trip to London?" he asks.

"Sure," I lie, trying my best to portray an excited smile.

"Our little witch is finally going to Hogwarts!" Grandma shrieks, happily. "Oh, my darling, I'm positively sure you'll be the best witch in that entire castle."

"There's no denying that," Grandma agrees and then winks at me. "She shall bring great pride to Ravenclaw."

Grandma rests her cup on the table, vexed. "How do you even know she'll be placed in Ravenclaw?"

"Look at her! Intelligent as one can be! She'll definitely be placed in Ravenclaw."

"Ravenclaw isn't made of only intelligent folks," Grandma replies. "Do you remember Gemma Klink? Do you remember what an airhead she was?"

"She was an exception, not the rule," Grandpa says. "What about Natalie Beddington, then? She was a Hufflepuff, but she was also a psycho!"

"Don't get me started on Nat Beddington, Sebastian. She didn't deserve to be a Hufflepuff and everyone knew that!"

I snicker, beginning to eat my waffles. Grandpa and Grandma continue their fiery conversation until the meal ends and the plates fly to the sink to wash themselves. In the end, they don't come to an agreement of what's truly best: Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. If Mom and Dad were here, Gryffindor would join the fight.

I wonder what would happen if I was sorted into Slytherin…

I shake my head, trying to erase this sight of this possibility, and return to my bedroom to get dressed. When I return, Grandpa and Grandma are already waiting for me in front of the fireplace.

A trip what would take hours from Sunderland to London, is just a blink of an eye when using Floo Powder. I have travelled through the fireplace before, but the dust still bothers me. In the end, I guess I prefer trains.

The Leaky Cauldron is just as I remember. Five years ago, when I came with my parents to get Jake's first supplies, it was a gloomy, dusty and funny-smelling place. Five years later, the scenery remains the same. The tables are placed in the exact same spots, the candelabrum on the counter still exhales the same smell of burnt wax and the same old witch from five years ago is sitting in one corner, drinking something are looks a lot like thick blood.

As soon as we step foot on the pub, Grandpa rushes to the counters to greet the barman. Grandma cleans her throat to let him know that he doesn't have all day to sit and chat, but it doesn't prevent him from exchanging vexed expressions and rolling eyes with the humpback man behind the bar.

We leave through an adjacent door and walk towards the small alley behind the bar. I watch Grandpa lift his wand and touch the bricks of the solid wall, in a well-known pattern. It still takes me breath away when the bricks move and twist to form the glorious archway that says: Welcome to Diagon Alley.

It takes no more than five steps for someone to spot us in the crowd.

"Agatha!" someone yells. "Long time no see! And Sebastian! Roger, come here! Agatha and Sebastian are here!"

An old woman with dark brown hair speckled with many silver strands rushes to my grandparents, looking very happy with her bright red cheeks. Right next to her arrives a serene old man that nods at Grandpa and Grandma.

"Roger, Amelia. It's so nice to see you," Grandma says politely. "Have you met Athena? She got her letter last week."

"Oh, hello, dear," the lady named Amelia says, looking at me with a smile, but rapidly looks back at my grandmother. "Agatha, we have so much to talk about! Have you heard that Tristan and Madeline Snyde were sent to Azkaban? It's said that they were helping You-Know-Who!"

Grandpa flashes me an accomplice smile. He hands me a bag full of galleons, sickles and knuts, and winks. He runs his hand over my hair, and I smile. Grandpa knows me very well.

I leave my grandparents in their amused conversation and turn around to face the mess and the confusion that is the Diagon Alley. My eyes can barely assemble the mass of people rushing by, purchasing strange objects and carrying smelly bags. I can spot a few stores that I need to visit, but as soon as I venture myself into the crowd, trying to dodge the shopping bags and brooms being carried around, I crash against someone.

"Dear God, I'm so sorry!" I say, rushing to get up.

The girl I bumped into is sitting on the floor, her wide dark eyes staring at me, bearing pure mortification. I offer her my hand and she accepts it with hesitation. Once she gets up, I notice she's about my height and probably around my age.

She swallows hard before speaking. "It's okay. I wasn't looking to where I was going. My apologies."

I smile warningly. "It's okay."

She cleans her throats. "I'm Rowan," she says.

"I'm Athena."

"First year at Hogwarts too?" she asks, her voice a little high-pitched from the sudden excitement.

"Yes!" I answer, happy to find someone who's on the same boat as me.

She opens a beautiful bright smile. "Did you get all your supplies yet? I'm still getting mine. It's so hard to buy only the books required! I feel like buying the entire bookshop!"

My smile widens. "Actually, I just started. I'm not quite sure where to begin."

"I can help you with that, if you want! I've been here with my parents many times before, so I know a few places like the palm of my hand. Specially Flourish & Blotts!"

I giggle softly and she runs her fingers through her black hair, snickering bashfully. She seems to be a wonderfully nice girl and a possibly future friend. I don't even think twice before accepting her offer, which makes her smile again and instantly hook her arm in mine, pulling me to the many stores.

She takes me to Flourish & Blotts first – obviously – and rushes to show me, by heart, all the books that we're going to need and indicating a lot of very weird looking ones that she says she'd love to read. Being a book lover myself, I feel happy for having her with me, all nerdy and thirsty for knowledge.

"My family owns a tree farm," she tells me. "Khanna Tree Farm. It's in Bach. We provide the wood for wand and broom makers. Our farm grows the best quality wood!"

"That seems very exciting," I say, paying for my books.

"Speaking of wood, you must go to Olivanders right now!" she says, pulling me by my hand.

Rowan seems to be genuinely excited about Hogwarts, talking nonstop about how she leaped around the house like an unhinged toad, screaming at the top of her lungs when her letter finally arrived. Her parents got very proud to know that she was a witch too.

We walk through the crowd with our arms hooked, until we finally arrive in front of a very dusty and old looking wand shop. The interior looks a little dark, backlit only by the dim light of small floating candles.

"Rowan!" we turn around, spotting a couple waving at us. By the colour of their cinnamon skins and black hair, I promptly assume they're her parents.

"Go get your wand," she says to me. "I'll be right back."

She rushes to meet her parents and I take a deep breath before turning around to enter the cold, abandoned-looking store. My palms seem to freeze with the nervousness, so I shove them in the pockets of my jeans. My eyes immediately spot an old man standing behind the counter, surrounded by thousands and thousands of wand boxes, that seem to cover every single wall and shelf. The man blinks his bluish eyes at me and greets me with a warm welcoming smile.

"Here to get your first wand, my dear?" he asks.

I nod, feeling weird and a little anxious.

"Allow me to take your measurements, then," he says, approaching me with a measuring tape. "Open your arms like this. Yes, perfect. Now stand still, please."

He measures me from my wrist to my elbow, then from my elbow to my shoulder. I frown when I notice that the tape is moving by itself, stretching to measure the distance between my shoulder to my foot and even from between my eyes. When the tape finally stops, rolling itself back to its original form, the man puts it back into his pocket and walks to the back of the store, between many dusty shelves, coming back with a bunch of boxes stacked on his arms. "Let's give these ones a try, then."

He opens the first box, removing from the velvety cushion a gorgeous wand, made of a light wood. My lips curl in a discrete smile as I wonder if the wood came from Rowan's farm.

"Cherry wood with dragon heartstring. Eleven inches. Very flexible," he tells me, handing me the wand.

I hold it carefully, looking at it under the soft candlelight, and risk moving it around. As soon as I swish it, the papers over the counter fly around, falling messily on the floor.

"I'm so sorry," I say, embarrassed, putting the wand carefully back inside its box.

"It's okay, my dear," he says, withdrawing his own wand from his pocket, flickering it to make all the papers return to its place, in a perfect pile on the counter. "Your brother broke my favourite inkpot when he came here to buy his first wand too."

"You remember my brother, sir?" I ask, anxiously.

I wasn't present when Jake got his first wand. I was just six years old and all I wanted was some ice cream. So, Dad took me to eat a sundae while Mum took Jake to Olivanders.

"Oh, yes," the man says. "I remember every wand I ever sold. Your brother's was maple wood with dragon heartstring. Ten inches. A wand for the brave and righteous. It's a shame they broke it when he was expelled. It was an excellent wand."

I sigh. "He ran away from home after that. Said it was a path he had to follow alone. He's been missing ever since."

I'm not sure why I'm telling this man what happened to Jake. Perhaps after long months of silence, the words just couldn't be left unsaid anymore.

"That must have deeply impacted you, no?" he says, lifting his silver eyebrows.

"I feel bad for him," I confess. "He loved Hogwarts very much. I just… I just hope he's okay."

"Hmmm…" the man says, scratching his beard. "Sensibility might be your greatest strength, then."

He pushes a few boxes aside, opening a specific dusty box and offering me the wonderful wand that lies inside. The scent of the wood immediately affects me, making me feel all warm and secure. "Cinnamon tree with porlock hair. Twelve inches. Flexible."

I hold it, not so hesitantly this time. It's almost as if the wand is attaching itself to my hand; like an elongation of my very arm.

"Give it a try," he says.

I take a deep breath, lifting the wand to wave it lightly. A gentle breeze escapes from the tip of the wand, flowing around me and making my hair move around. A deep warmth floods my heart, making me feel wonderful, invincible and unstoppable.

He opens a satisfied smile. "Perfect! Cinnamon wands are destined for those with sweet and warm hearts, whereas the porlock hair is meant for guardians, since these creatures guard horses. This wand shall be your best friend. Take good care of it."

"I will. Thank you so much, sir."

I leave the store and the outside world is much lighter and warmer than before. I feel as if the anxiety, the cold and the fear completely left my heart and all that's left is a soothing sensation that I can conquer anything.

"Athena!" I turn around, seeing Rowan waving at me from the other side of the pathway. She rushes to me with a big smile. "Did you get your wand?"

"Yes! Cinnamon with porlock hair core," I tell her.

"Mine is mahogany, directly from Khanna's farm! I'm so happy I could burst!"

I giggle. "Please, don't. Who would clean all the bits of brain and gut from the floor?"

She smiles. "I'm glad I met you, Athena. People usually think I'm very strange. Do you think I'm strange?"

"I'm sure people will say the same about me," I say, curling my lips in a comforting smile.

"Who would even say such thing about you?"

I sigh. "Well… my surname is Lockhart."

"Lockhart? As in Jacob Lockhart?" she asks, exasperated.

I nod. "He's my brother."

"The same Jacob Lockhart who was expelled from Hogwarts after breaking all the rules in search of the mythical Cursed Vaults?"

"The same."

"I read all about it on the Daily Prophet. All school will know you're his sister," she says, arching her dark thick brows.

"I know," I saw, sadly. "People will talk and gossip… They'll probably think I'll do the same."

I feel her warm hand landing softly on my shoulder. "It's okay, Athena. We can be weird together."

I smile softly. "Thank you, Rowan. That's very sweet of you."

"But what should I do if people start disturbing you about your brother?"

"Nothing, I guess. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. It will only draw more attention."

"You're probably right. We'll have a lot to occupy our minds, with all the exciting classes we'll attend. We won't have time for trouble," she says.

"Truer words were never spoken," I say. "I'm so happy I met you, Rowan."

The remaining of the day is peaceful and immensely fun next to her. We eat ice cream together – bubble-gum for her, vanilla and caramel for me -, buy our uniforms, cauldrons and potions' supplies. As she gets nauseated just to stand near the basket of beetle's eyes, I get profusely excited while picking extra ingredients, such as many colourful mushrooms and seeds.

By the time we leave the last store, the sky is gaining an orangish tint and a cold breeze starts to blow. Just as I'm wondering how I'm going to find my grandparents, I spot them leaving Eeyelops Owl Emporium.

"Athena, there you are!" Grandpa says, looking happy yet slightly concerned after the long time I spent absent. "Who's your friend?"

"Grandma, Grandpa, this is Rowan Khanna," I say. "She'll be a first year like me. Rowan, these are my grandparents."

"Very nice to meet you," Rowan says, all cheerful.

"Khanna?" Grandpa asks. "Of the tree farm?"

"Yes!"

"I had the pleasure of knowing an incredible man named Mohan Khanna. Remarkably intelligent."

"He was my grandfather!" Rowan says, excited.

"We went to Ravenclaw together," Grandpa says, opening a nostalgic smile.

"He was truly intelligent. One of my role models, to be honest," Rowan says. "Wow! A Great Horned Owl!"

I frown, my eyes immediately searching what she's looking at. They widen when they spot the huge owl inside a cage that Grandpa is holding.

"Oh, yes," he says. "Athena, we got this for you. An early Christmas gift, if I may say so. After all, the wisdom goddess must have her owl, right?"

The owl is immense. It has big yellow eyes, like two beautiful topazes. It produces a slight hoot and blinks.

"She… he… is gorgeous! Thank you so much!" I say, rushing to hug them.

"He," Grandma corrects. "I'm sure you'll be great friends."

My smile broadens as the huge owl looks at me with sunshine eyes. Suddenly, I have the feeling that everything is going to be okay. I have wonderful grandparents and now I have two new friends.

"It's time for us to go home, darling," Grandma says.

I turn to look at Rowan. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

"I can barely wait!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me tightly.

I head with my grandparents to the brick wall and when I look back, Rowan has already been engulfed by the sea of people. I smile as the archway opens to allow our passage and as we return to the Leaky Cauldron, my heart is warm and immensely lighter. I don't even bother the dust that comes with travelling via Floo Powder.

When the night finally falls upon my house, I tuck myself in my bed as my new darling friend, Twilight, watches over me from the bedframe. His bright yellow eyes are like suns in the darkness, making me feel entirely reassured. Though I'm bound to be haunted by Jake's mistakes, at least I'll go to Hogwarts with friends and the promise that everything, somehow, will be okay.

For the first time, I can't wait to go to Hogwarts.

A/N: I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! If you did, be sure to leave a review so I can know your opinion. If you have any questions, doubts or suggestions, my inbox is always opened. Thank you so much!

* My Immortal, by Evanescence.