Summary (A bit better than the 255 characters' one): Isabelle Beauregard is not normal. She's a witch (And she talks to herself 24/7, which is weird either way). Not standing her life anymore, she runs away and ends up in London with only one thought in head – Becoming normal (To some extent).

But when she meets James Potter, her life might take another turn…

AN: Hey guys!

I'm really not used to write in English, so please tell me if you spot any mistake; that would really help me! I've been reading this chapter over and over again to correct it as much as I could! Enjoy – I hope you will! (:

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world, etc…

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Isabelle

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Okay. All I needed to find then was a magic place. I mean, it was London; there had to be a place meant for witches and wizards only, right?

It had already been tree days I was out there, and I needed to take a shower, people were starting to look at me like I was homeless. Not that I was not. Actually, I was sort of homeless at the moment. I'd been sleeping in the station, pretending to wait for a train that never came. Not that I didn't have money – I did have some. But I'm pretty sure there wasn't a single hotel I was going to be able to pay in galleons.

Merlin, I was tired – I'd been walking for hours. This city was so huge! Shaftesbury Avenue… I'd already been there, so I turned – Charing Cross road. I still think those street names are weird. In France, where I come from, we usually name the streets after people, and I doubt Charing Cross is someone's name… Anyways.

Ugh. I smelled. No wonder I couldn't concentrate on finding my magic place; I really needed that shower. In fact people were walking around me.

Then I saw it; what was that over there? The Leaky Cauldron? Sounded wizard. I just needed to observe the Muggles for a few minutes: If they didn't see it… Definitely wizard. All was perfect. I'd found my place! I still needed that shower, though.

Looking around me, I spotted a Bed&Breakfast. If I could just sneak in without being seen… I needed a diversion. If only I had had one of those Decoy Detonators we played with at school!

I was searching my mind for an idea when I noticed him. Why was that guy staring at me like that? He must have looked as terrible as I did – meaning he looked quite homeless too. So I thought: Maybe he'll help me? Poor people do that sort of thing, right? Well, I wasn't losing anything asking.

'What're you looking at?' Hum. And I was supposed to ask for help… I'd been nicer… And I should have been, if I wanted him to help. ' Er, I mean…'

'S'okay sweetheart.' he grinned. YEURK! He was missing half his teeth! That was gross. And had he just called me sweetheart? 'Look kinda lost, dontcha?'

'Well…' I didn't know this guy – I could't trust him. He was about twice my age, and tree times as creepy as a normal person.

'Also looks like you need a shower!' he said, grinning wider. Excuse-me? Look at who's saying that!

I was starting to turn my back at him – I didn't really need that shower, did I? – When I stopped abruptly. Was he that creepy? I mean, the past tree days I'd been looking at people like I used to. But then… You should have seen me! My brown hair was so tangled and dirty I'm not even sure one actually could tell that it was brown. The last time I had seen my reflection (Meaning the day before) it looked kind of greenish. And my complexion… Let's not talk about it.

So, getting a grip on myself, I put on my sweetest smile ('Please, may my teeth still be white'), and faced the man.

'As a matter of fact, I do. But the thing is, I don't have money, and I don't think the B&B over there would let me in… If only someone would attract the receptionist outside… I could sneak in and take that shower!' I sighed. I hoped I was looking convincing (And that the guy was not a policeman undercover, that would have been my end…)

Fluttering my eyelashes at him ('Please, may the dirt not glue them together'), and pursing my lips (Do I have to say it?), I tried to look innocent (And I can tell you didn't).

Oh damn it! He didn't looked convinced at all (I wonder why…)! Okay, think of something, Isabelle, you can do this…

'It's not that I don't want to pay, really… But all I have is that gal – Er, gold coin!' Haha! There he was interested. 'So… Would you help me, please?'

'F'course I will! If I can see that coin you 'ave there…'

I went through my bag, searching for it… Crap. I'd only got one galleon left. I hoped that that shower would be worth it. I threw the coin at him, and he bit it – Disgusting. I was never, ever, touching that coin again – Not that he was likely to give it back anyways.

'Let's make that diversion then!'

Oh thank Merlin; he really was going to do it. I was afraid he'd run away once he got the gold – See, not that creepy!

As we got closer to the B&B, he winked at me. Then he rushed inside and started throwing all the flyers, which were next to the door, in the air, whilst yelling 'It's raining FLYERS, yipeh!' Hum. That diversion was worthy of some tree-year-old. But it's all I had, so I should stop complaining.

Whoaaa. Was he taking off is clothes? Ugh. I know I should have looked away, but I couldn't help it. Morbid curiosity I guess.

The receptionist was then pursuing him out on the street so the entrance hall was empty. Then was my chance!

Running inside, I hurled myself towards the emergency exit door and climbed up the stairs. An old man was peering out his room – to see where the noise was coming from I suppose. Unfortunately for him, I was going to have to kick him off. But he was way to close to his door…

'Ouch! Oooh, please help me! I think I twisted my ankle running! Owww, this hurts so bad!' Pretending to fall on the floor, I grabbed my ankle. This was NEVER going to work – Wait! It was working! I'm a genius. The old man was closing up… Oh, he looked so sweet, reaching for my hand to help me… But I couldn't afford being nice. I needed that shower!

His fingers were reaching mines – Did I really need that shower? It was sort of a whim actually…

Oh, I so didn't care! I – wanted – my – shower! Once his hand closed up on mine, I pulled him to the floor and got up.

'Sorry!' Getting inside the room, I locked the door behind me. Ugh. Smelled like old people in there… I felt guilty. There wass this voice inside my head telling me how mean I was (You are so mean – See?). I just had tricked a poor old man! But the hot water felt so nice on my skin it wiped the guilt away.

Once I was cleaned and dried (This is going to sound silly, but I hope that he hadn't had used the folded towels – I don't want to have used the same towels as an elderly!) I went through my bag for clean clothes. My plan had been working really well until then; it had to keep going that way.

Uh-oh. Was that a key I could hear? He must have told the receptionist! Getting dressed the quickest I could I got out of the bathroom – Just I time!

The old man, looking grumpier than ever (And I thought it was kindness?), was standing in the threshold, next to a young man in a suit (Must have been the receptionist).

I am such an awful person –

Fluttering my eyelashes (This had to work now that I was clean), I displayed what I hoped is a bewildered expression (And it was quite a good one).

'I'm sorry, but… Who are you?'

'Miss, er – ' the receptionist swallowed. Did I tell you how much of a genius I am?

' Yes? What are you doing in my room?' This eyelash-fluttering thing really is ingenious. I don't know who started it, but I must thank them really much – it saved my life more than I can count.

' This – er – notyourroom.'

The old man was looking daggers at me; I guess he was not going to fall for me twice and I don't blame him – I wouldn't fall for me once. Yet, I don't know why he didn't say anything. I mean, it was pretty obvious I was going to get the receptionist to believe me – or at least he'd have been charmed enough not to react. Maybe he was mute? Oh, I don't care. It was my lucky day!

' Not my room you said?' I looked around, trying to look amazed (Pretty good face too). 'Oh you're right! I am so, so, so, sorry…'

Saying that (More like simpering it, actually) I leaned slowly closer to the receptionist. If there's one thing I should thank my parents for, it's definitely for making me pretty enough to do this sort of thing.

'I'll just leave then!'

Giving them a sugary sort of smile (The one I usually keep for my teachers when I'm failing an exam I'm not supposed to fail), I walked around them and eventually passed the door. None of them followed me – that old man definitely was mute, there's no other explanation (Still not caring).

When I finally got out of the B&B, I sighed, relieved. The not-so-creepy-homeless-man that helped me earlier was gone – Probably trying to sell my galleon on some black market.

All I needed to do to make my plan work then was to enter the Leaky Cauldron.

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That guy outside was so not creepy. Why are English wizards all so weird? I mean, come off it, seriously! This isn't 19th century anymore! Hello people, we're in 2019!

I eventually got inside the pub (Which was full of the strangest people I had ever seen – I swear I saw a dwarf and a hag kissing), but nobody had noticed me yet. I needed to draw their attention. I needed to find obvious magic…

'OH MY GOSH!' I'm pretty sure that was quite a convincing cry. 'How did you do that? I swear I saw that bottle flying towards you!' Silence. Perfect! Everybody was staring at me then. This was so cool, it's like they were all frozen in action! The man who was making the Butterbear bottle fly still had his wand pointed at it, and he was looking at me like I was mad. I am such a genius.

' Er - What do you mean?' he asked, frowning his eyebrows.

' I mean' I said that like it was obvious (Which means you said that like you were thinking he was an idiot). I was thinking to try and get a role in the West End when all of this was over (And I am sure it would have worked out really well). 'Bottles don't fly. This is real life, not a movie!'

Bam! I'd said the magic word. I bet they were all thinking I was a Muggle then –

' Is she a… Muggle?' exclaimed a younger copy of the man with the flying bottle. See? I told you so.

Suddenly, there was an eruption of noise:

' She can't be a muggle! –

' Muggles can't see that place –

'Do something! Isn't there a law –

Poor people. I was driving them crazy. They were all wondering how on earth a muggle got there. Then, they were going to erase my memory and I'd have my new life! All perfect.

'Maybe she's a witch and she didn't know until then!' said younger-flying-bottle-man, who was about my age.

Wait. What? Uh-oh. This wasn't part of the plan!

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They made me sit at their table, the man with the flying bottle, his wife and their tree kids. They ruined my whole plan. How was I supposed to get my memory erased then?

'Nothing weird ever happen to you?'

'No. You people are completely out of mind, I'm not a witch, that's silly – '

'You must be a Muggle-born! What's your name?'

'Isa… Er. My name is…' I couldn't tell them my real name! I needed to come up with something…

' Lizzie. Evans. Lizzie Evans.' I'd done worse.

'Evans, uh? Pretty common name!' I don't see how a common name maked me a muggle-born, which he seemed convinced of (Which you actually are)… The younger copy of the bottle man, whose name was James, he had told me so about five minutes ago when they made me sit, was a little annoying. He was also really handsome, so I guess that balanced the whole thing.

'See? I have a common name. I'm a common girl. I'm – not- a –witch!'

'How can you know?' he narrowed his eyes. 'Where are your parents anyway?'

'Er – They died in a car crash.' Ugh, you had done better, girl! 'And I know they weren't a witch and a wizard!' Think of something. 'They were dentists. Both of them.' Dentists? Nobody was going to buy that, Isabelle. And the car crash? That was the worst excuse you had ever come up with!

' Then you must be a Muggle-born! I just don't understand how you never got a Hogwarts letter…'

'Maybe I didn't get one… Because I'm not a witch!'

'If you weren't a witch, how would you have got in there?' he said that like it was obvious (See how he did it? He wasn't looking at you like he thought you were an idiot – Though he probably should have). Why was he trying so hard to make me believe I was a witch? Didn't they get it? I didn't want to be a witch! I just wanted them to erase my memory so I could believe I was a freaking normal person!

'He's right Lizzie. You are a witch, there's no other explanation.'

Uuuuuuuugh. (You looked so annoyed at that moment; it was so entertaining.)

Oh, please, get that triumphal grin off your face, you plan-ruiner! Now, nobody was going to erase my memory, just because you wanted me to be a witch so bad! Wait… That's right! He wanted me to be a witch! But… Why?

Uh-oh.

Isabelle, stop that now.

Isabelle, get a grip on yourself!

Isabelle… WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU SILLY GIRL?

'Okay then, I must be a witch!'

What. The. Hell.

Strangely, this seemed to make them all really happy. Like they'd made something wonderful by telling me I was a witch – like I didn't know that. Seriously, I was seventeen; it was really unlikely I wouldn't have known! But they had bought my whole car-crash-dentist-story so I'm not complaining.

Even though this wasn't my plan at the beginning… I mean, what I really wanted was a new start (What you really wanted was to get rid of magic). And they were giving me one, without taking my magic away (Which was not the plan at whole)… As a matter of fact, I like magic (That's news!). I just never thought I could start my new life keeping it (Because you couldn't).

So it was quite a good plan too, right? (No.) Anyway, it's not like I had much of a choice, then.

Once they'd told the landlady's husband, who was apparently a teacher at their Hogwarts thing, the whole story, they started to make plans for me. At first, I was feeling a little guilty (You shouldn't have stopped), because they were all really nice to me and I was shamelessly lying to them. But it's not like they'd ever find out… right? After a while I just shut down the voice in my head (Mpfffff), which was currently yelling 'This cannot end well' (In fact, I was saying 'Mpffffff' and Freud would tell you that if you heard that, it's because you knew it deep inside).

Once they were done talking (I hadn't listened a word of what they said, there was too much to remember. And I was sort of distracted but the food they got me… Come on, it'd been tree days since I had a real meal! (You know, there's no point in arguing with me when I'm not saying anything.)), we all got up, and headed towards the rear of the pub.

I wasn't being very attentive, but then the brick wall started to form a doorway. I didn't need to fake the amazement on my face (I was supposed to have discover magic five minutes ago, remember?) because it really was amazing! A magic brick wall (Oh, please)! James, grinning at my expression, took my elbow, and started to describe everything that surrounded us.

That shower really was worth my last galleon.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I'm really not sure about the end – I think there's something wrong with the verbal tenses… So please tell me what you think! C:

(The second chapter will be coming in a few days! I was going to publish it today, but I've been correcting this chapter and I didn't get the time to correct both. I'm really sorry for those who've subscribed for Story Alert and who keep getting ones when all I do is update the first chapter!)