The wind howled as the girl walked. It was dark and she felt alone, but this wasn't what scared her. She had been alone ever since the accident, and she was already starting to get used to it. No. The thing that scared her wasn't visible and it wasn't defeat able.

The sign loomed up in front of her as if it had appeared out of nowhere.

When the girl reached the corner she stopped, after a while she looked at her watch and sigh. It was midnight.

Cars passed, but none noticed the hooded figure on the corner waiting. Waiting for time to past, and for the bus to arrive.

It finally came, it sped and skid to a halt right in front of her.

A man walked off and addressed himself. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."

The girl lifted her head and sighed, "I would like to go to the Leaky Cauldron..., please."

"Very well, get aboard. I'll take your bags." Stan moved off the train and pulled up the girls bags.

In the bus, the girl climbed to the third floor and laid down on the nearest bed.

"Who are you?" Stan's voice came from below.

The girl rolled over and tears were visible in her eyes. "I don't know." She whispered.

The girl must have fallen asleep, because soon Stan was shaking her and telling her she was there. Where there was she didn't remember, until she saw the sign.

She paid for the ride and carried her bags into the Leaky Cauldron.

It was just as dark inside as it was outside. The owner brought her to her room, afterwards he came up again with some bread and soup. She ate quietly and then walked to the fireplace.

She stared into the flames and thought. It was hard for her to think about what had happened, but she was calm and patient. The tears came back and took her over.

"No!" She said so abruptly that she scared herself. "I don't want to cry, anymore. I want to sleep."

She pulled off the cloak and took off her shoes, then laid down, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

The sun crept through the window that morning, and landed on her pale face. She sat up with a start, she hadn't realized that she left it open.

"Crap!" She said, as she ran over and pulled down the shade. She hated the sun, with it's pureness and beauty it reminded her to much of what she didn't have. She pushed that thought out of her head and went to her bags.

Today she had a mission, she didn't know what it was, but she could feel it in her bones. Something was going to happen. She pulled on some new clothes and placed the cloak over her head. Downstairs it was busy, people were everywhere, mostly eating or talking.

As she walked she was knocked down, she hit the ground and hit her side. She felt like crying again, but before she could she found herself not alone on the floor.

"Are you alright? That looked like it hurt." The boy said holding out his hand to help her up.

She took his hand and looked at him, he was a little taller than her with black hair and piercing green eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." She stammered.

"Good." He said giving her a warm smile, which made her blush.

She could feel the blood before she saw it, but the boy saw it first. "Owe, here, sit down I'll get something for that." He said, and walked off towards the bar.

She thought about leaving, the door was just there, but she didn't. Strangely she felt a connection with the boy. A feeling she couldn't explain.

He returned with a bowl of water and a rage. "Can I see it?" He asked.

"Um..."

He grinned, a grin off understanding. "I'll be gentile."

She lifted up her sleeve and exposed the wound. He dipped the rage in the water and lightly touched the scratch. She winced.

"Sorry." He whispered to her as he went on.

"It's ok... not you, it's the blood."

He looked at her. "You don't like blood?"

"No, not since..." She stopped.

The boy could tell something was wrong and quickly changed the subject. "So, you go to Hogwarts?"

"No."

"Really, you must be a witch?"

"Why?"

"Well your in our world."

The girl thought for a moment and remembered something from her past, a distant memory. "They said I was to go there."

The boy stopped. At first she thought it was because of what she had said, but then she realized it wasn't. The boy was staring at a scar that ran across her wrist. "Did you..." He stopped, not wanting to make the accusation.

"No. That wasn't me." She replied, staring at the scar.

When she looked up, the girl realized that he was looking at her. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what did that to you." He said with compassion in his voice.

"Oh," She said. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I'm sorry."

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Oh, right. Harry."

She searched her mind for any recollection of this name, but there was none. In spite of this she still felt oddly connected to him. "Winifred."

"Hhmm?"

"I'm Winifred."