Prologue

A/N: It came to me and I had to start it, though I'm in the midst of two stories already (one is mine own so not posted here).

A/N 2: Also please remember most of all these characters are originally made up by J.K. Rowling.

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, direct quotes(entitled "quote"), etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended

A/N: I did a few slight "major" edits since I first posted this story...

Dedicated to all the readers and writers on fanfic...

Janice Wolfe read the last line of the final page of the last book of a series her mum had given her. It was one of her favorite books of all time. This was the sixth time since her mum had finally gotten the last book that she had read it--that had only been three weeks ago. In that time frame, not only had she read the series a few times over again, but the reason for her escaping from real life for that time frame she read the book, was even more upsetting.

For the past five years...almost half of her young life, Janie had been taking care of her parents. They tried, but her mum's past job had exposed her to many chemicals that had her fighting illness after illness--mostly cancer. Janie's dad was preoccupied with trying to pay the bills including the mounting medical bills and barely had anytime, past helping here and there, to take care of both his wife and child. Luckily, Jacob was a writer, a successful one at that and they weren't living poorly. Nevertheless, they were a proud bunch and it was just them and the nurse who visited often, but to take care of Janie's mum, not the rest of the family.

In the past three weeks, her mum's long battle with cancer had taken a turn for the worst. As it was, Janie was working even harder to make sure everyone ate and the house kept cleaned. She'd been home schooled and was still continuing to do so, though now she taught herself more than not.

"Janie, love, can you get the door?" her mother's soft raspy frail voice broke into Janie's thought. The repeating sound of knocking spurred Janie into action. "I think its the nurse," her mum added.

Janie opened the door to the said nurse. A young French woman, "Bonjour Mrs. Blanchard." Janie greeted.

The woman nodded curtly, brushing instantly by Janie to her patient. Janie watched from the door of her parents' bedroom, now a sickroom with machines and wires. She knew what everything was, how everything worked and why. Making sure she did, because Janie liked to know that everything that could be done was being done for her mum.

The woman in her mum's bed barely resembled the mother who had rocked Janie to sleep after her strange nightmares, or the one who adored knitting her young daughter jumpers or...who had pulled Janie's dad and their little girl away from the house for "enrichment" trip which had included everything from camping, many trips to London, a few to Paris for 'history' and 'language' lessons. Janie's favorite book when she'd been younger had been the popular French children's book "Le Petite Prince"--she had a very bedraggled copy of both English and French versions stowed right next to the books her mum had given her.

Janie blinked back the memories and the tears focusing on her mother of now. Lately the once lively young woman couldn't even get out of bed without help. Her spry young body had been turned into an impossibly thin frail older than her years' shape. The long wavy brown hair that Janie's own hair took after was long since gone with chemotherapy and the illness itself. In its place were scarves Janie helped her mum change depending on the woman's preference...today she wore a green polka dotted one. Janie smiled half-heartedly at it.

She watched worriedly has her mum's hand shook slightly as she tried to help the nurse in whatever the woman was doing. Janie turned quickly away, practically running into the kitchen to hide her tears. She started dinner, rubbing her eyes on her sleeve, for her dad and herself. Trying to prepare the chicken, the young girl held back a chocking sob as she remembered what Doctor Meyers had said on his last home visit. Janie hadn't been allowed into the room during the visit but the doctor and her dad had come out to the living room--Janie had left her own bedroom ajar and could hear most of the conversation.

Especially when the doctor had said, "I'm sorry Jacob, but Cassandra doesn't have much longer to live. Making her as comfortable as possible is all we can do, her system is shutting down--it has been for years but now there's just too much to heal and not enough time."

Janie had watched, through tears of her own, as her father, a man never known to show tears before had bailed right there...crumpling to the sofa. Janie, unable to see her dad in such pain and not do anything, revealed herself and had run out and together they'd cried. That night they'd all slept in the master bedroom, Janie curled up carefully next to her mum as Jacob held all three of them.

A gentle touch on her shoulder brought her back to the present, realizing tears were again streaming down her face. "Love?" her father's voice had Janie turning around, burying her face into her father's chest, hugging the man tightly. "Aw my love, I won't say its all going to be alright. But with love we will get through this."

Janie shook her head yes against her father, still hugging him tightly, "I don't want to lose her dad."

Jacob rubbed his daughter's back gently, his own tears falling into her hair, "I know love, I know."

**********************

Two days later, on a crisp August night, Cassandra Wolfe took her last breath of life. Jacob and his only daughter, Janie, said their goodbyes to the person who had meant so much to both of them on a quiet Friday afternoon. It was a quiet and private affair, though Janie noticed a few people she didn't quite recognize.

They stood off to the side, their faces just as somber as everyone else. Yet they seemed different somehow, Janie couldn't place why. She committed them to memory, wondering if she would ever be able to find out the puzzle to the mystery. One woman, tall with a kind but serious face, glasses halfway down her nose like an old home study teacher Janie had had once. The woman, she thought with an almost half wonder and half hysteria, reminded Janie of Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration Professor...later Headmistress at the school in the books her mum brought her. The woman's cat like brown golden eyes caught her looking and she looked back with a seemingly assessment. Then with a somber and sympathetic nod towards Janie, the elder woman led the small group away departing as quietly and unobtrusively as they had come.

Janie let it go and walked with her father back to their car. They were going to their favorite park today to enjoy the good memories of their loved one...in honor of her.

*************************

Neville Longbottom pulled his Muggle coat tighter about him. "It's cold for an August day," he said absently, they walked back towards where they had apparated at. He glanced at his wife, "Doing okay Hannah?"

Hannah Abbott put a protective hand over her stomach. "Yes love, I'm fine, it was sad to see such an exuberant life gone at such a young age, but a little sadness won't affect the baby, Neville."

Professor, now Headmistress McGonagall looked fondly at her two past students, now one a Professor at the school and the other the landlady at the Leaky Cauldron. "Cassie had been a wonderful student, its sad to see her die so young, especially before she had a chance to tell young Janice she was a witch."

Neville nodded gravely, tripping over his feet, but righting himself quickly, "Yes, Cassie had her choice to hide her past. And after everything with Vol---Voldermort, who would blame the woman? Many witches and wizards chose to live in the Muggle world after the battle. Of course, many came back to live as before after everything had settled down, but Cassie had written me one last time, saying she found the love of her life and was going to stay in the Muggle world. Saying she was happy and didn't want to have to explain to her new husband about her past, not while everything was still fresh from the war..."

"True Neville, I think she stayed in secret because it just became easier to do so and later maybe she even wanted to forget the past. But she had been a powerful DA member and she remembered in her last month, writing me, telling me that she believed Janice had the potential to become a very promising witch..." She paused for a moment, thoughtfully. "She also mentioned that Janice has sort of learned of our world, Cassie had a way to tell a story and make you think you found out by other means. She was very good at creating a magical veil. Apparently she's told her young Janie all about you, Harry," the elder lady nodded to the younger black hair Auror, "And all of all your adventures through a book series that Janice believes is very popular world wide and of course a work of fiction. She'd been planning on telling her young daughter what she'd really been reading, but by the girl's look today, I don't think Janice knows that truth yet."

"You mean," Harry said, with Ginny by his side. Their children were at Ron and Hermione's house, visiting their cousins, "that this poor girl is going to learn she's a witch and believe its all from a story of...fiction."

"Yes, I'm afraid so, it was a safe way for Cassie to make sure her daughter wasn't unfamiliar with the wizardry world when it was the girl's time to go to school, without explaining in detail quite yet," Minerva said quietly. "Cassie had been meaning to tell her girl the truth, especially when the girl showed signs of young unrestrained, accidental magic. However, I'm sure, with her illness and the suddenness of her death, she never got a chance to."

Harry nodded, "She's sure not going to believe the first owl you send her though," he said with a small laugh.

The small group laughed then sighed, with one last glance towards their friend's final resting spot, a loud "crack" was heard and the five disapparated from view.

A/N: Sorry for the cliff hanger...but it is a prologue...also let me know if you like the title...I'm unsure about it right now. Thanks...next chapter will be out soon...I promise.