Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling , except for Jackie and her friends etc.

Chapter One

Pavement. Steady rhythm. Intake, exhale. Feet pounding against black asphalt. Breath in, two, three, exhale. Arms moving up and down in motion. Sweat dripped, and whipped away. There was birdsong in her ears. Jackie never liked running with music, the cords had always bothered her, flapping against her skin.

To anyone who passed her, she looked like an ordinary runner on a lonely countryside road. Long ponytail, sweat wicking shirt and running bottoms. Well worn sneakers, that if Jackie was being honest with herself, she was in need of a new pair. But she liked the old shoes. She didn't like change.

So while everyone moved on, she remained the same. Jackie was by normal standards . . . normal. She always stuck to a schedule and followed a plan. She never was outgoing, nor very spontaneous. Jackie glanced down at her watch, finding herself two minutes behind. Better up the pace, Jackie.

CRACK.

The sudden noise made her pace stumble slightly. A flicker of annoyance crossed her flushed face. What the-? The once lonely and empty road now had one new addition to its black surface. Jackie slowed slightly, that certainly had not been there a moment ago. She slowed to a stop several feet away from the . . . person.

A man. Covered in shabby looking clothes, worn and patched over. His greasy brown hair covered much of his face, although much of it was caked in a rust colored substance. Blood, she realized with some semblance of horror. How did he get here? What had happened to him? Was he . . . dead?

Jackie crouched down and tentatively poked his shoulder with a finger. He reeked something fierce, making her nose scrunch up in disgust. "Sir?"

There was no response. She settled back on her haunches, brow furrowed. Well, she didn't think he was dead. There was some color in his dirty face. And his lips weren't blue yet. Jackie knew what a dead person looked like. She had seen pictures and gone to her fare share of funerals for grandparents she had hardly known.

She shook his shoulder forcefully know, getting some relief at the large intake of breath the man took. Not dead after all. "Sir? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

The mans eyes snapped open, flickering around frantically before landing on her. She was unprepared for the lunge he made at her and gave a cry of alarm as his bloodied fingers wrapped themselves into the fabric of her shirt. He pulled his face near hers with a manic look. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if struggling to breath.

"Take it!" He hissed, breathing foul breath on her. "Take it before they find me!"

"Take what? I don't understand-"

The man shoved a long stick into her hands and then a dirty cloth with something inside it. He eyes danced around again, wildly taking in their surroundings.

"W-Where are we?"

"Just outside Southdown- Bath! Please tell me what's wrong. I can't take these," Jackie insisted. She really didn't like whatever he had shoved into her hands and tried to give them back. He withdrew from her, laying flat against the asphalt with a sigh. "Sir?"

"Adrian. Adrian Dunn," he whispered. "My name. Take care of those."

"What? Why? Adrian, tell me what's going on, let me help you." Jackie hoped that this wasn't some loony that had escaped from a psych ward.

"You must be a muggle," he breathed seeming almost disappointed. "No matter." The man, Adrian reached up to her, pressing his hand over her heart. This made Jackie very uncomfortable and she jerked back. Her action was too slow, however, and a searing pain entered her chest.

What did he do? Jackie clutched her chest, gasping for air. Everything felt so hazy all of the sudden. What did he mean, she must be a muggle? Was that some kind of slur? Adrian lay still, and Jackie almost thought that he had died.

"Dumbledore will know what to do."

What did that mean? That meant nothing to her. Still gasping for breath, and seeing black dots in her vision she lay down, staring up at the surprisingly clear sky. Bird song filled her ears as her heart pounded in her chest, slower and slower. Until her eyes slid shut and another CRACK filled the air.

Adrian was all alone. And that's where the police found him several hours later, dead.

Jackie sat up suddenly, keenly aware of the blinding headache building in her skull and the honks of cars. Where . . . was she? Her eyes took in her surroundings, tall trees and overgrown grass. A far cry from the rolling countryside she had been running in before finding Adrian.

Adrian.

Jackie scrambled to her feet, clutching the side of her head as she looked for the man. But he was nowhere to be found. All that was left of their brief and alarming encounter was the stick and dirty cloth. Only, as she looked closer she found that it held an emerald, the size of her thumb. Jackie sucked in a sharp breath.

That would go for a very pretty price.

Why would he leave it with her though? No matter, the only thing that was pressing on her mind was that she was quite frankly, lost. She had no money, no I.D., and no idea where in the world she was. All she had was a stick and an emerald. Jackie was tempted to toss the stick into the grass, but thought better of it. If Adrian thought it was important, then she better keep hold of it.

Right. With a determined look, Jackie turned and began making her way through the untidy park that she had woken in. I was early morning, she could tell. At the black wrought iron gates she paused, gazing about the silent street. She was faced with a row of tired and run down houses, their lawns poorly kept, and many of the windows dark.

Lovely. She was in a, well, poorer section of area than she was used to. It was not easy to keep the image of getting mugged out of her mind. She was alone, with a very precious jewel. Jackie wanted to curse Adrian, but she wasn't about to. The building in front of her shifted.

She blinked.

Not shifted. Sliding. A whole new house was sliding out from in between numbers eleven and thirteen. Jackie stared wide eyed, feeling her jaw drop. Houses didn't just- they didn't just appear or slide out of other houses! There was light in the lower windows, and like a moth drawn to a flame, her feet moved her forward. By the time she reached the door and knocked, Jackie barely had any time to realize what she had just done.

What was she doing? She didn't just randomly knock on doors in the wee hours of the morning, when she had no idea why she was doing it. Heavens! Jackie hoped that no one answered the door, so that she didn't have to explain herself. Fate wasn't smiling on her today it seemed.

The door cracked open slightly, revealing a wary and slightly tense face of a man with dark hair and a well groomed beard.

"Can I help you?" his tone was almost aloof. Frosty. The words spilled from Jackie's mouth before she could stop herself.

"Dumbledore? Do you know an Adrian Dunn?"

His face hardened, and his voice turned to a dark hiss. "Who is asking?"

"Um . . . he gave me some things and I woke up here . . . uh, well- you see . . ." this was not going well, Jackie sighed. "My name is Jackie. Jackie Snow." She showed him the stick and the stone, hoping that maybe he could help her and get this whole misunderstanding settled. And get her back home.

Before she had time to react, she was yanked inside the house. Her eyes were greeted by darkness, and as they adjusted, shrunken heads. A terrified scream escaped her lips, followed by a bang and another scream from somewhere within the house. The man jumped at her, clamping his hand over her mouth and glaring at her.

"Who are you? Who do you work for?" He lifted his hand for her to speak, the screaming from upstairs the only thing filling the air.

"Filth! A stain upon the honor of the house of Black!"

"I-I told you who I am," Jackie managed in a frightened voice. A bang filled the air and another voice called down from the stairs.

"What are you doing, Sirius?"

The man, Sirius, kept his eyes on her. "We have a situation."

There was a creak of stairs, and a new man entered the ghastly hall. His brown hair was limp, his clothing worn and he looked dead tired. His brown eyes landed on her, nar

rowing slightly.

"Who is this?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Sirius said. He snatched the stick from her hands. "She had Adrian's wand."

"What?" the other gasped.

"I think she's a spy."

"What should we do with her?"

"Hold her until Dumbledore gets here, we can't let her go, she knows where we are," Sirius said. He grabbed the emerald and passed the objects to the other man. Then he grabbed her arm and wrenched her forward. Jackie stumbled after him, wincing at his tight grip as they ascended the stairs.

"Please! I don't know what's going on!" She cried helplessly as they went to another floor. "I just want to go home!"

Sirius flung her into a dark room. The light from the window casting eerie shadows over the furniture. He grabbed the door. "We'll leave that for the Order to decide." He said before slamming the door shut. A click filled that air followed by a raised voice, then silence. Jackie ran to the door and jiggled the handle, finding that it was indeed locked.

What had started out as an innocent run, had turned into waking up and getting locked in a room. Jackie slid to the floor, back pressed against the door. She pulled her knees up to her chest and cried.

R&R!

~filimeala