Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of J.K. Rowling's characters and/or plot.

Full Summary: Alex, a sixteen year old girl (this all starts in December of their sixth year in Hogwarts), is torn from her life when she finds out she is not who she thought she was.

This does not work with HBP, and I've taken some poetic liscence, you could say, with some characters.

The air stung. I noted my tingling cheeks in a distracted manner, my eyes tearing from the wind as they strained to see the expected figure. Where was he? The fire searing through my brain did little to help my condition as I slowly lifted my arms to wrap them around my waist. Damn vulnerability. I felt so alone, standing in the middle of an empty parking lot since 12:30 in the morning, being soaked in the huge snowstorm. I had been able to ignore most of my discomfort by concentrating on the fact that he would arrive at any moment. But as I checked my watch again (how many times have I done that now? A hundred?) I realized the hopelessness of the situation. It was now 2:45 a.m. The bastard stood me up. I shook my head. What was I to do? Ever since yesterday, my world had fallen apart. They had come and ruined, then erased, my life. They took everything. Even if it was for the best, I had never felt so lonely. So now I had nothing, no home, no family…nothing. And the man that had promised to help was nowhere to be seen.

//Flashback//

"Mom? Dad?" I called out as I stepped into my home. It was 5:30; I had just gotten out of rehearsal, and was surprised to find the house empty. Shrugging, I closed the door and dumped my bag on the nearest chair, heading over to the living room for some good 'ole vegging. But instead of an empty room I found the place occupied by five strangers. 'Shit! Robbers!' I thought, trying to figure out what to do. Well one was really, really old, so no problem there…another was a tall woman who looked to be in her early fifties…again, not too hard. But then there was the creepy guy with longish black hair and even darker eyes, and a rather gentle looking man (mid thirties?) with sandy hair. Both seemed to be very fit. And-'what the hell? Does that guy have a fake eye? Holy crap! It's MOVING!' By now they had noticed my presence and we all stared at each other for a moment as I discreetly (or so I hoped) fished for my cell phone in my pockets.

"You know," I said loudly, "The police station is right around the corner. No way you'll escape if you stay here any longer." They all looked puzzled. "Seriously," I continued, "They will hear me scream and be here in ten seconds!" The robbers all shared a look of incomprehension. Well, all but the creepy one. He was sneering.

"She thinks we are breaking into her home to steal," he said, in a deep, melodic voice.

"Think? Hah! Now get out or I swear I'll scream so loud—"

"Silencio!" the man interrupted as he wove a stick in my direction. I opened my mouth, sucked in air, and— nothing. No scream. 'What the?'

"Ms. Tracy," the old man began, "I assure you that we mean you no harm. Quite the opposite, really. We are here to keep you and your family safe." I struggled to speak, glaring at the dark haired man. "Ah, yes. Severus, if you would…?" The man Severus muttered to himself before clearly saying,

"Finite Incantum," with another swish of his polished stick.

"Save us from what exactly?" I asked the old man, backing away. These people were crazy. For the first time I noticed that they were all wearing robes. 'Oh no! They must be part of some kind of cult!' That would explain why they were carrying sticks, which I could only assume they thought were wands.

"Ms. Tracy, my name is Albus Dumbledore. This is Minerva McGonagal, Remus Lupin, Auror Moody, and Severus Snape," he said calmly, pointing to each adult in turn. "And I am here to tell you that magic is real…"

Half an hour, and countless demonstrations, later, I found myself sitting on a chair with my head in my hands. Not only had I been informed of magic, but they had also told me about a murderous dark wizard named Voldemort (the others, for some reason, cringed when Dumbledore said the name) who was campaigning against Muggles, which was apparently a name for non-wizard people. And I just so happened to, for some reason, be in grave danger of said sadistic wizard.

"Okay," I said slowly, "so how are you going to keep us safe?" Dumbledore let out a sigh.

"We must bring you to a safe house." I nodded,

"Alright. So…do you think you could explain this to my family?" I asked, "Because I don't think that they'll believe me." At this, McGonagal stepped forward.

"No, dear," she said gently, laying a hand on my shoulder, "only you are coming. Your family will be safe when you are gone. That is…when you are completely gone." The room was silent.

"What," my voice was hoarse, so I awkwardly cleared it before starting again. "What do you mean completely?" Dumbledore lowered his head slightly and looked me straight in the eyes.

"You were adopted. We are the ones, minus Mr. Lupin, who brought you to this family. Now we must erase their memories, and the memories of all who you know, of you in order to guarantee their safety. If we do not do so, they will be found, and most likely killed." He then pinched the bridge of his nose, and the other four adults looked at him with concerned glances. "I know how fast this all is, and how ridiculous it must sound to you, my dear, but you must do this. You will have this one night left with your family. I will meet you in the parking lot a block from here at 12:30 a.m., tonight. We will take care of your belongings." I couldn't reply. Yes, I believed him. I had seen him do things that were, by all means, impossible. But—

"But I look just like the rest of my family. There's no way I was adopted! They have a birth certificate and—"

"That was fabricated. By us," Dumbledore replied. "As for your looks, and who your true parents are…we must wait until we truly have time to sit down and tackle those questions. It will be soon, I promise." He looked at his companions and they all nodded. "Remember, Ms. Tracy. 12:30." He reached out and touched my shoulder. A gentle, sympathetic gesture that nearly made my break into hysterics. This was unreal, this couldn't be happening. I couldn't leave my family…but it was to keep them safe. Could I sacrifice everything? Could I live without them if it meant their lives? I looked into Dumbledore's clear, blue eyes, and nodded. His face seemed to age within seconds as his fingers applied comforting pressure.

"I am sorry."

//End Flashback//

I knelt on the ground and hugged my knees to try and keep warm.

"Your core creates the most heat, your limbs go numb first," I remember my brother, who was a medic, telling me. Tears pricked at my eyes. 'Don't think of them!' I shouted to myself in my mind. I took in a shaky breath, trying as hard as I could to stop the onslaught of emotion that threatened to overtake me. Oh, god, I missed them so much. It had only been a matter of hours, but knowing that I would never see them again was unbearably painful. I just wanted to see them one more time, tell them, remind them that—

"Ms. Tracy?" a gentle voice whispered behind me, causing me to jump. My hand rested on my racing heart as I looked up into a pair of tired, but wise, blue eyes.

"Dumbledore," I replied, just as quietly. He gave a small smile that lacked any real joy as he helped me to my feet.

"As you know," he spoke, "all of your belongings have been moved to our safe house. Your family and friends will be perfectly safe from all of this for the duration of their lives, of this I am positive." He squeezed my hand, and again I fought back tears. With a tired sigh he pulled out what looked to be a tattered snow hat. "I know this is sudden, but I promise to answer all of your questions tomorrow. Now, dear, I need you to take hold of this hat and close your eyes very tightly." I opened my mouth to ask why the heck I had to do so when he cut me off. "Please, Ms. Tracy. I will answer all questions tomorrow, as I promised. But we must make haste." He held out the hat to me. "If you would?" I nodded and grabbed the less grimy looking flap and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't hold back my gasp as I felt a strange tug behind my navel…

I landed rather unceremoniously on the hard ground in a large, creepy room. It was dark and gloomy except for the crackling fireplace that was wedged in a corner.

"Dumbledore?" I called, almost cringing at how pathetic my voice sounded.

"I am right here, Ms. Tracy. Do you need help getting up?" I looked to my right and saw him standing there as if we hadn't just been spun around in dizzying circles to land in a completely different location. Gratefully, I took his hand, and was surprised by how easily he lifted my whole weight.

"Thank you," I said, still whispering. The place gave me the creeps. "Um…I know you said you'll answer questions tomorrow, but…where are we?" At this Dumbledore chuckled and began steering me towards one of the dusty black walls.

"Well, I suppose that I should rephrase what I said before. I did not take into account that we are in a new day, due to the early hour." He paused to tap a section of the wall with his wand. "We are currently in one of the un-cleaned areas of 12 Grimmauld place. I purposely made this our destination because I thought you might not be up to the large amount of introductions that would be necessary if we were to walk through the more common parts of the house." He gently pulled me, gaping, through the now revealed tunnel. I stared at the gothic looking torches attached to the walls, which Dumbledore ignited with a flick of his wand. "We are also no longer in America. We are in England." My eyes widened. So not only was I away from my family, I was away from my country. Though I had always wanted to go to England, I had imagined it under different circumstances.

"Eng-England?" I whispered, my tone slightly awed. His eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement.

"Yes, dear, England. Now, this house also happens to serve as headquarters for our Order, which I will explain further to you once you have rested." Abruptly, he turned to the right, facing a grimy stonewall. "Really must clean this," he muttered before tapping it, as he had done to the wall before. This time we entered a dimly lit, extravagant hallway. "Your room is the second on the right," he whispered, "and all your things have been moved there. I will send someone for you by eight tonight for dinner." I nodded, dazed. Though I had many questions to ask, I could no longer stifle the yawn I had been fighting. "Well, Ms. Tracy, I daresay you must be exhausted. It is now 3:15 in the morning. Get some rest." He led me to my door and I leaned tiredly at the threshold.

"Thank you," I said in a blurry voice, "from what you've told me, you've saved my family's lives. I'll never really be able to repay you. So…thank you." He smiled at me for the third time that night-'or day, really', yet it seemed to be the most genuine—and sad.

"Do not thank me just yet, Ms. Tracy. Good-night." Too tired to mull over his cryptic words, I just nodded and stumbled over to the bed.