Prologue
My grandmother used to say I had the devil's own luck. It was a rather accurate description of my life. I could ski studying for a test for a night with friends only to find the test cancelled the next day. The store I worked at could close suddenly only for me to find a higher paying job in the city due to an old friend's connection. I get a speeding ticket and meet the perfect man at the courthouse.
Even my death was lucky. As deaths go. Peacefully and quietly going in my sleep. Admittedly it was at a relatively young age, but it was better than it could have been.
My next life though seemed to follow my grandmother's words. I was the only and incredibly spoiled daughter of an affluent family that was managing to do well in the Depression. My father gave into my slightest whim and didn't seem to mind if I preferred unladylike pursuits. My mother, I had a mother, was always eager to play dress up and bond with me. My two elder brothers had already moved out, but when they visited were all smiles and could be convinced to take me out to the cinema to see movies mother didn't approve of. All it took was a few well timed pouts and a tear or two.
Quite frankly it seemed my luck had if anything improved.
I conveniently forgot the sentence that always followed my grandmother's comment though.
"Mind yourself though, even the devil's luck ran out."
This I only remembered when the Hogwarts letter arrived in the hands of a certain auburn haired wizard.