Prologue
"Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show." – Charles Dickens
Chapter I
The cotton covers of my bed sheets seemed slightly unfamiliar as I rolled over; forced to by the fact that I had been lying on my right arm and currently had the sensation of pins and needles travelling all the way up, promptly awakening me from my rather inappropriate dream. Ow! Bloody hell, you'd think I'd learn! Wasting no time, I went to bash my arm against the wall which my bed leaned against but was strangely disorientated, when I found that it wasn't in fact there.
"Oh bollocks" I let out a shout before landing on my backside and feeling the cold floor beneath my feet.
What a minute. This isn't the carpet in my bedroom. I quickly snapped my eyes open and to my alarm I was in fact sitting on a freezing wooden floor and wearing pyjamas that were not apparently my own. How very mysterious. And weird as fuck. Clambering up off the creaking floorboards I sat back on the unfamiliar bed and looked around. Wow. Definitely weird as fuck.
The room was neither small nor large and mostly dark with a beam of light escaping from the moth bitten curtains. It seemed everything was covered in a thick layer of dirt and dust, not to mention that half of the furniture was covered with white cloths, as though prepared for a re-decorating that never came. Keeping rather still with a mixture of shock, fear and anxiety, I listened to the murmurings which could be heard outside my room and observed the moving shadows that crept under the crack between the door and the rough floorboards.
"Hello" I called out in raspy whisper that I could hardly hear myself and wasn't surprised when there was no answer.
"Hello" I said a little louder and the mumbling stopped, the handle on the door turned a little, causing the whole door to shake on its hinges and let out an ear-piercing creak.
"Good morning, would you like to have some breakfast?" An incredibly old man stood, looking strangely cheerful; but then he did seem rather strange in general.
"Err … yes please" I replied, making the moment feel even more surreal with my inappropriate politeness and general calm exterior; as if waking in an unfamiliar house with OAPs was my typical Monday morning.
Following him down the stairs I was surprised to see that there was in fact no one else in the corridor, not helping my doubts of the man's sanity. Every floorboard on the stairs seemed to creak as if I weighed 25 stone, which I can safely say that I do not.
"Do you enjoy tea?" the old man questioned as he passed over the staircase without so much as a sound and I shook my head.
"No thank you, I find it rather dull" again my typical English manners won over irrational behaviour and I gave the reply one might give at a garden party or something of the sort.
"That is a shame. I find that tea is quite the thing to calm my nerves" the man replied with a smile as he disappeared into the kitchen with same vigour you would expect to find in a man of 20.
"Please do take a seat" he indicated to a chair that sat around an almost empty table, apart from a funny old yellow teapot decorated with daisies; again not helping my doubts for the sanity of this man.
It was then that I noticed three others who sat at the table and wondered how it was that I had not noticed them there before. The first was a woman with glasses that magnified her eyes till they were the size of saucers and dressed like the batty old lady with 10 cats who used to live down my road. The second was a man who did not look much past the age of 45 but seemed rather the opposite of the old man, with eyes that looked like they'd had the life sucked out of them. The last was another man with notably greasy hair - why must I be so superficial? - and a crooked nose which caused me to think of him like a rather pathetic boxer.
"So how is my little prophecy this fine morning?" the woman chirped up and gave an unnerving little snort of laughter before staring at me for several disturbing moments.
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I see a girl from foreign lands. She knows our world but not as we know her. She will come to save those of good heart thought destined to fall. But when the last life is saved she must pay the price with her own.
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"Sybil, do not harass the young lady" the old man sat down and poured tea for everyone else but me.
"Are you sure you do not want some tea?" he asked again and for a second time I shook my head; even more sure of my answer than before.
"Do they have tea where you're from?" the woman questioned excitedly and I nodded slowly, not sure whether this was a joke or not.
"Are you going to tell me what is going on or not?" the second man suddenly burst out during the silence.
"Me? Tell you" I stared back baffled at his outburst. "You mean to say that none of you know why I am here" I continued and stood up with weak legs.
"Well I …"
"Oh shut up Sybil" the man with the crooked nose interrupted the woman harshly whilst I simply stood there.
"Please sit down my dear" the old man acted calmly but I was no longer in good temper.
"No I will not sit down. Who are you? Where am I? What do you want from me?" I demanded and they all sat there silently in their own little daze.
"What is your name?" the old man persisted quietly and I reluctantly sat back down.
"Isabella Hartwell" I replied, unsure whether I should be answering the question truthfully.
"It's good to meet you Miss Hartwell. I am Albus Dumbledore. This is Sybil Trelawney, Sirius Black and Severus Snape" he indicated to each person as he spoke.
At this a thousand images and words rushed into my head, every one seeming so familiar it overwhelmed me and I grasped my forehead in pain. The memories twisted and turned so that I could hardly follow a single one but simply observe as they flashed past, a new one every fraction of a second.
"I … I … I know you. I walked with you all … once upon a dream" I did not realise I had said these alien words until I heard them outloud and I struggled to gain control of my tongue again.
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"Tell us where your last memory is" the old man ordered as he paced back and forth, no longer the calm person he was but a few moments before.
"I was …" I struggled to remember anything in the hazy fog that covered my mind.
"It was New Year's Eve 2011 and I was … yes I remember I was watching the fireworks in front of the London Eye" I smiled at the peculiar memories that were coming back. "And the last thing I remember is passing out on somebody's doorstep" I frowned in confusion.
"My doorstep" Sirius snapped and I could only smile dreamily. "Sirius Black's doorstep, aren't I a lucky bugger" I let the dreamy state envelope me and sat quite happily for a few moments before shaking it off again.
I was having hallucinations, going mad. Maybe I was dead. Maybe I had curled up and died like a tramp in the cold of the night. But if I was, why was I in this strange world of Potter and co. I'd never had dream like it before. Everything seemed very real. And if it was a dream or hallucination or whatever, how come I am able to evaluate it with a sane mind? At least I think I am of sane mind.
"Miss Hartwell, can you hear me?" I snapped out of it as Dumbledore called out rather harshly and I blinked several times.
"Yes, I hear you very well" I snapped back with a stern look that was not entirely intended and the old man almost jumped back in surprise.
"Where's Sybil?" I only now noticed that Professor Trelawney was no longer in her seat.
"She tends to forget her foresights not too soon after she has them so we thought it might be best to get her back to Hogwarts, before she realised the real seriousness of this situation" Dumbledore explained and I nodded, pretending to understand what he was saying.
"Isabella, you have been in a quite unreachable state for nearly half an hour now" he continued in a gentle tone and I blinked at the absurdity of it all.
"But I only zoned out for a few moments" I replied defensively and he shook his head.
"Professor Dumbledore, I hate to break it to you but I think I trust myself better than a stranger … of some sort" I gave him an angered look as he poured himself some more tea. "I can understand that" he nodded confidently and I frowned.
"No professor, you don't understand. I've … I have read about you, seen you acted out on a silver screen. I'm a muggle. Oh what am I talking about? In my world there is no muggle or magic. There is only fiction and reality. And you sir, are fiction" I finished my ranting and slumped back down in my chair.
"I'm afraid I do not follow"
"Of course you don't follow. Everything; all this" I indicated to the room and the three men, "in my world this all part of a … a storybook, a fairy-tale. Not a myth, all of this is written in books, everything is described to the perfect detail. Well, most of it anyway" I sigh inwardly and stare at my feet.
"You mean to say that you know, your whole world knows us, even the individuals" Snape finally said something.
"Especially as individuals" I urged them to believe me but all seemed lost.
"Prove it" Sirius objected and at this I felt tongue tied. It was like the words were on the tip of my tongue and I just couldn't get them out. After the moments of opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish, I admitted "I can't. A higher power forbids me" again the words were not my own and as they escaped I clasped my hands over my mouth.
"Curiouser and curiouser" Dumbledore exclaimed as he sipped his tea and I smiled at the familiar words. At least some things don't change. "Please excuse us Miss Hartwell" he got up and the others followed.
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After ten minutes of waiting and watching as the tea slowly got cold, the three returned but did not sit back down.
"Miss Hartwell, we have come to the conclusion that until we find a way to get you home, you will be in our custody. It is essential that you try your best not to be too conspicuous, as I fear that Lord Voldemort would no doubt use your apparent knowledge for his own purposes. You will attend Hogwarts in the New Year and until then we will have to find someone willing to take you in" Dumbledore finished and I stared.
"But for now you must forgive us as there is an important event Severus and I must attend" Dumbledore interrupted me before I could speak and with that he disappeared.
"So what exactly is it that's so important?" I grunted whilst Sirius continued to stare at me with suspicion in his eyes.
"You're really not from around here are you?" he observed and I shook my head, biting my lip not to give him a piece of my mind.
"The Triwizard tournament, the final task starts in no less than five minutes" he mumbled, checking his watch as I stood up.
"The final, are you sure?" I started to panic and held out my hand.
"Give me your coat" I demanded, not sure what exactly it was I was going to do.
"Where are you going?" the man seemed more intrigued than worried as he handed me the scruffy old thing.
"I don't know" I exclaimed as I put it on hastily and reached for the door.
The instant my hand turned the doorknob I suddenly felt a spinning sensation, my surroundings becoming blurred and I got the feeling that I was being sucked up by a vacuum.