Chapter 1

It was a hot summer day in late July, and Jill Potter was sitting on her bed, enjoying a rare day of calm at the St. Jude's Orphanage for Young Girls. The rest of the girls were on a week-long trip to the coast, but Jill had been left behind when she had landed in trouble for fighting the day before the trip. In all honesty, she had only wanted to get her book back from Jenna Alexander. But one moment Jenna had been holding the book above her head and the next, she had been tossed across the dining hall into a tray of dirty dishes and the book had dropped cleanly into Jill's hands.

Jenna had screamed and called her a freak, and one of the dirty dishes had risen up and smacked her across the face. Jill was left standing mutely until one of the nuns had grabbed her arm and dragged her in front of Sister Marianne, who had then banned her from the trip.

Jill wasn't all that mad about it. The girls at the orphanage did not like her, and she doubted it would be any different at the coast. She preferred to be alone either way, and she suspected that Sister Marianne knew it too, and she had deliberately decided to keep Jill at the orphanage so she could enjoy a few days of peace without the other girls bothering her.. Of all the nuns at the orphanage, Sister Marianne was the only one to show a hint of concern for Jill. The others thought of her as cursed at best, and a demon at worst.

This left Jill to stay up in her room and read in peace all day, and then go for a swim in the pond behind the orphanage in the late afternoon. Jill loved to swim but she couldn't do it when the other girls were around because one of them would inevitably try to drown her. They wouldn't succeed, because the girl pushing her would suddenly found herself being dragged down under water, giving Jill time to escape.

Incidents like that were not uncommon. Most people knew that she was odd and it was better to leave her alone, but every once in a while, a bully would gather up courage to try and attack her, only to end up getting hurt in the process while Jill wouldn't have a scratch on her. Some of the more cowardly ones would try and prank her by hiding her stuff or sabotaging her things but once again, it would be turned around on them instead of affecting Jill.

When she was younger, she had believed it was a Guardian Angel or even God who was protecting her. As she grew older, she began to contemplate the possibility of her having some form of unexpected power. Over the past year or so, she had realised that her power wasn't restricted to her being in peril. In her quieter moments alone in her room, she had been able to levitate her book over to her a few times, and on colder nights, she could stoke the fire without leaving her covers.

She wanted to do more but she had to be careful not to get caught. Jill had the room to herself because no one else wanted to share with her, but she doubted even Sister Marianne's scarce affection would extend to Jill exhibiting signs of an unknown power.

That morning, Jill was sitting on her bed and carefully stacking her books back on the shelves from the pile on the floor. It took a lot of concentration from her, and after the book was successfully placed on the shelf after being levitated up from the floor, she was out of breath for ten minutes or so, as if she had run a marathon. Despite having done this for hours, she had only managed to put up five books up on the shelves, though she did realise that it got easier the longer she practiced. She had been in the process of putting up the next book when there was a knock on the door of her room, and the book clattered to the ground as her concentration broke.

Jill left the bed and opened her door quickly, surprised to find the cook at the door.

"Sister Marianne is asking for you in her office," she said sullenly and walked off.

Jill felt a tingle of fear. Had someone seen her use her powers? She had kept her window open to let the sun in and even though she was up on the second floor, she couldn't be certain that she had remained unseen. Taking a deep breath to calm down, Jill started making her way towards Sister Marianne's office. The worst thing she could do in this moment was look guilty, because Sister Marianne would realise it right away.

The door to Sister Marianne's office was slightly ajar, and Jill could see her sitting stiffly in her chair, face pinched in the way it did when she was annoyed about something. A woman sat opposite her but Jill couldn't see her face, only that she was wearing a shocking tartan pantsuit and had her grey hair in a high bun.

Jill knocked on the door and the two women looked at the door. "You sent for me, Sister?" asked Jill, stepping into the office.

"Yes, come in, Jillian," said Sister Marianne, her face softening just the tiniest bit. "Take a seat."

Jill felt a stab of irritation at the use of her full name, but she squashed it down as she sat down in the chair opposite the strange woman.

"This is Professor McGonagall," said Sister Marianne. "She is here to speak with you."

"Hello, Jill," said Professor McGonagall. "It is very nice to meet you."

"Hello," said Jill, still wary of the woman.

"Professor McGonagall is a friend of the orphanage from the church in Caithness," explained Sister Marianne. "She is one of the people entrusted with your future."

"Entrusted by whom?" asked Jill.

"By your parents," said Professor McGonagall.

Jill raised her eyebrows sceptically. "My parents?" she asked. "My parents are dead."

"Yes, I know," said Professor McGonagall, and her face appeared genuinely regretful. "I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. It is the school that your parents went to, and you too have been registered there since birth."

"You must understand, Jillian," interrupted Sister Marianne, shooting a look at Professor McGonagall. "After your parents died, you were placed with your mother's sister and her family. You were not brought here to St. Jude's until a week after that. Professor McGonagall brought you here from your aunt and uncle's house."

"Why?" asked Jill, stunned. She had only ever been told that her parents were dead and she was left at the orphanage because there was no one else who could take her in. She didn't even know she had an aunt.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "There was an...incident at your aunt's house," she said. "They were attacked. I am sorry to tell you but your aunt and uncle perished in the attack along with their infant son."

Jill's mouth went dry, and her stomach turned to lead. She looked at Sister Marianne who was looking at her with something akin to pity. "Was I-was I still in the house?" she asked.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall with a deep sigh. "Their house was almost completely wrecked but we discovered you in your crib, safe from the rubble."

"H-how?" asked Jill, eyes burning with unshed tears. She was never one to cry, but this day was changing that very fast.

Professor McGonagall sighed once more and looked at Sister Marianne, who nodded and stood up. "I'll leave you both to talk," said Sister Marianne, and left the office, closing the door behind her.

Jill was surprised at her abrupt exit but she looked at Professor McGonagall expectantly. The older woman cleared her throat before speaking.

"You survived, Jill, because you are special," said Professor McGonagall. "You are special the way your parents were special."

"What do you mean?" asked Jill, fascinated despite herself.

"Hogwarts is no ordinary school, Jill," said Professor McGonagall. "It is a school for witches and wizards. It is a school for magic."

Jill glared at her venomously. "I am not a freak!" she shouted. The glass on the window panes of Sister Marianne's office shattered into bits. "You can't just make up some story about magic to take me away to some institution. I am not stupid."

Professor McGonagall didn't flinch at her outburst. She drew out a stick from her suit jacket and waved it at the window. To Jill's surprise, the glass flew back into place and the window was whole once more, with no sign that it had ever been broken. "You are neither a freak, nor stupid," said Professor McGonagall calmly. "You are a witch. And a powerful one at that, judging by your bouts of accidental magic."

Jill was staring at the repaired window in shock. She turned back to Professor McGonagall. "Tell me everything," she said, her voice coming out just the tiniest bit sharper than usual.

This time, Professor McGonagall did flinch a little, and Jill realised that she had forgotten to use the polite voice she used around all adults. Usually, she would have corrected it, but she was still reeling from everything she had learned today. This was not the time for her to be guarded. She needed answers.

"Very well," sighed Professor McGonagall, collecting herself relatively quickly. "Magic exists in this world. Our world. Hidden away from the world you have known until today. We have coexisted with non-magical people since the beginning of time. We call them Muggles. Generations of Muggles and witches and wizards have mingled through time, but our world is protected from them by a Statute of Secrecy."

"We? You mean, I am really magic too?" asked Jill, her mind racing as it connected all the dots.

"Yes, you are," said Professor McGonagall, and a small smile graced her face. "Just like your parents."

A breath escaped Jill in a whoosh, and she looked down at her hands as she spoke. "Is that why I can-?" she stopped herself and looked up at Professor McGonagall, who had a curious look on her face.

"Yes?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Jill got a polite look on her face. "Is that why things break when I get angry?" she asked instead.

"You are exhibiting accidental magic," explained Professor McGonagall. "Magic can be controlled and channelled through the use of a wand and proper instructions that you will receive at Hogwarts. Without proper training, magic flounders and grows unstable."

Professor McGonagall reached into her suit jacket and pulled out an yellowish envelope that she handed to Jill.

Jill took it and read the emerald writing on the back of the envelope.

Miss J. Potter

Room 21

St. Jude's Orphanage

London

England

She turned the envelope over and broke the wax seal. Inside, was a folded parchment that she pulled out and unfolded to read.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Jill looked up at Professor McGonagall briefly before looking at the second page of the letter which contained a list of equipment and books needed for her first year at Hogwarts.

"Where do I get all of this?" asked Jill. "And how? The orphanage cannot afford-."

"Your parents had substantial finances. It is being held in trust for you that you shall now be able to access," explained Professor McGonagall, pulling out a small, golden key from her suit jacket. "As for where, well, that is somewhere I can take you."

Jill sat up slightly and took the key handed to her. "How did they die?" she asked, staring at the key. "My parents. How did they die?"

Professor McGonagall looked uncomfortable. "They were murdered," she said, finally.

Jill's eyes widened. "By whom?" she asked.

"A dark wizard," said Professor McGonagall. "The worst of our kind."

"Why?" asked Jill faintly.

"Your parents were...powerful," said Professor McGonagall. "Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogwarts in their time. The dark wizard...he wanted them to join him. They refused him and he…" she sniffed and looked away.

"Who was he? Was he arrested?" asked Jill, desperation creeping into her tone.

"He's dead," said Professor McGonagall. "The same night he attacked your parents, he attacked another family. The Longbottoms. They had a son, Neville. When he tried to kill Neville, something happened. He was vanquished and Neville Longbottom survived the killing curse. An impossible event."

"Who was he?" asked Jill, realising that Professor McGonagall never said his name.

"We...do not speak his name," she said, looking uncomfortable again.

"Why? He's dead, isn't he?" she asked.

"Yes, yes, we believe so," said Professor McGonagall. "You must understand, he killed and terrorised our world for years. We were at war and those were dark times. His name still evokes fear in the hearts of people." Jill stared at her incredulously, and finally Professor McGonagall sighed. "Lord Voldemort," she said, and shuddered. "Do not ask me or anyone else to say it again."

Jill nodded and sat in silence for a moment, trying to process it all. "Why didn't he kill me?" she asked finally.

Professor McGonagall suppressed a shudder. "I think you ought to be grateful that he did not attempt anything of the sort," she said, her eyes softening a little. "You were barely over a year old."

"But he tried to kill Neville Longbottom," Jill pointed out.

"He did not succeed," said Professor McGonagall, and the tone of her voice suggested that she would not say more on the subject.

"The attack on my aunt and uncle's house, was it Vol-was it him too?" asked Jill.

"We are not certain, but we believe it to have been some of his followers, yes," said Professor McGonagall.

"So, they're still out there? People who followed him?" asked Jill.

"No, not anymore," said Professor McGonagall. "They are incarcerated now."

Jill nodded slowly and then looked at her letter again. "So, where do we go to get these things?" she asked.

Professor McGonagall gave her a small smile. "Diagon Alley."

Jill left Sister Marianne's office in a daze, mulling over everything Professor McGonagall had told her. There were still so many questions that she had, but for now, she wanted to learn more before she tried to get those questions answered. Even though Professor McGonagall had been forthright in her answers, Jill had a natural distrust of all grown-ups, and unless she confirmed it with a book, she could not be certain of everything she had been told.

She returned to her room, and grabbed a light cardigan and her outdoor boots. Professor McGonagall was taking her to Diagon Alley to buy her things, and Jill was excited despite her natural cautiousness. There was a knock on her door, and Jill paused from tying her boots.

"Come in," she said, surprised when Sister Marianne entered.

"Jillian, good, you're dressed," she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "Professor McGonagall is waiting for you in the front foyer."

"I'll be right down," said Jill, finishing up tying her boots.

"Yes, well, she is taking you into London to buy your things for you," said Sister Marianne, and then hesitated slightly. "Jill, you don't have to accept if you don't want to."

Jill looked at her in surprise. "Pardon?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"You have a genius level IQ and your qualifying marks were good enough to get you a full academic scholarship to Wellington," said Sister Marianne. "That is an enormous privilege. We know nothing of this Academy besides your parents' wish for you to attend it."

"That is good enough for me, sister," said Jill firmly. "Besides, you and I both know that there is more to it."

Sister Marianne looked a little startled but nodded. "I do not claim to understand everything about you and...the world you are about to enter. All I know, is that I want you to choose what you want to do."

Jill smiled a little. "Thank you, sister," she said sincerely. "But this is what I want. Honest."

Sister Marianne nodded. "Very well, then," she said. "Off you go."

Jill nodded and slung her satchel over her shoulder as she raced downstairs to where Professor McGonagall was waiting for her. "How are we getting there?" asked Jill, as they walked out of the orphanage together.

"We'll use Muggle transportation today," said Professor McGonagall. "It is only a short cab ride."

She raised her hand and a black London cab came to a stop in front of them. Professor McGonagall opened the door and ushered Jill inside. "Charing Cross Road," she said, getting in.

"Sure, ma'am," said the cabbie.

Jill was quiet as the cab drove through London traffic. There was a bus she could take from the orphanage to Charing Cross road, and she was already making plans to visit Diagon Alley on her own in the coming days.

The cab dropped them off in front of a decrepit-looking pub that said 'The Leaky Cauldron' on it in peeling letters. People walked past it without sparing it a second glance, and Jill guessed that it had to be invisible to non-magical people, or Muggles, as Professor McGonagall seemed to call them.

"In here," said Professor McGonagall, ushering Jill inside the pub.

The interior of the pub was just as dingy as the outside, but it smelled warm and was full of people talking, laughing, eating and smoking. Jill took it all in with wide eyes, noting that no one paid them much mind, though a few people nodded to Professor McGonagall.

"Get you anything, Professor McGonagall?" asked the toothless innkeeper when they reached the bar.

"No, thank you, Tom," said Professor McGonagall politely. "Just passing through."

Tom nodded and Professor McGonagall led Jill through the back door and into the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. She drew out her wand once more and tapped the bricks in a certain order, which Jill memorised immediately. The bricks started spinning and slowly parted to form an archway that led into a bright, sunny alley lined with shops on either side.

"This is Diagon Alley," said Professor McGonagall, walking through the archway.

Jill followed her, unable to keep the wonder from her face at the spectacular sight. She spied shops selling everything from robes, wands and books to cauldrons, telescopes and owls. There was an odd thrum in the air, and Jill recognised it as the same energy she felt when she was using her powers. Magic, she realised. It was magic.

She turned to Professor McGonagall and smiled politely. "Thank you, Professor," she said. "I can take it from here."

Professor McGonagall looked taken aback. "Surely, you'll want my help…"

"I am used to doing my own shopping," said Jill firmly but politely. "I don't want to keep you from your work."

"It will be no trouble," began Professor McGonagall but then thought better of it. "Very well, if you say so. Visit Gringotts first. That's the bank right down the street. You cannot miss it. Show the goblins your key and you will be able to withdraw money. You can also get it changed for Muggle money if you need."

"Thank you," said Jill once again.

Professor McGonagall nodded and then smiled a little before turning slightly on the spot and vanishing right in front of Jill.

"Cool," said Jill, and set off towards Gringotts.

Sure enough, the snowy white building was easily distinguishable and Jill walked up the golden steps to reach the gilded double doors that opened up as she approached. Short creatures in robes walked by, and Jill realised that Professor McGonagall had called them goblins.

She walked inside the building, and was amazed at the sight of hundreds of goblins sitting on teller machines, running transactions for various people. Some were counting money, others were answering questions, and there were a few leading people through the numerous doors leading out of the main banking room. Jill found the first free goblin that she saw and approached him cautiously.

"Yes?" asked the goblin impatiently.

"I want to access my trust account," said Jill.

"Key," snapped the goblin.

Jill took the key from her satchel and slid it over to the goblin. The goblin picked it up and examined it briefly. "Griphook!" he called out shortly, and another goblin ambled up to them. "Show the little miss to her vault."

Griphook took the key and beckoned Jill to follow. Jill grabbed her satchel and set off behind him as he led her through one of the doors out into a mineshaft. A minecart came hurtling up in front of them and Griphook jumped in without much difficulty, and nodded at Jill to do the same. Jill leapt into the cart and the cart set off down the rails through the cold tunnels.

"How big is this place?" asked Jill.

"As big as it needs to be," answered Griphook.

Jill raised an eyebrow but didn't ask anymore questions until the cart came to a stop in front of vault 687. Griphook jumped out and grabbed a lantern from the wall as he approached the vault. Jill followed him and watched in fascination as he used her key to unlock the vault.

The lock turned easily and the door swung open with a hiss. Jill's eyes took a moment to adjust, and her eyes went wide when she saw that the vault was filled to brim with gold, silver and bronze coins. She walked inside further and saw an entire wall full of jewellery boxes, laminated documents, and sealed scrolls.

"What is all this?" asked Jill.

"Deeds, heirlooms, property documents, gems," listed Griphook in a bored voice.

"So anything that's not a liquid asset," murmured Jill. "And the money? How are they valued?"

"The gold ones are galleons, silver are sickles, bronze are knuts," said Griphook. "Seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty-three knuts to a sickle."

"How many British pounds to a galleon?" asked Jill calculatingly.

"Five pounds to a galleon," said Griphook.

"So, how much money is in this vault?" asked Jill.

Griphook pulled out a parchment from his robes and handed it to her. Jill took it and used the torchlight inside the vault to read it.

The inheritance of Jillian Amaryllis Potter

Father: James Fleamont Potter (deceased: 1981)

Mother: Lillian Elizabeth Potter nee Evans (deceased: 1981)

Godfather: Sirius Orion Black (deceased: 1980)

Title

Heiress of the Noble and Ancient House of Blacks

Vaults

Vault 3: Inactive (Black Family Vault)*

*The proceeds have been added to Vault 687 as per the wishes of the last heir

Vault 687: Active (Potter Family Vault)

Liquid assets: 358, 675, 019 galleons 10 sickles 3 knuts

The document went on to list several documents and other solid assets but Jill had stopped reading. She wasn't just rich, she was rich.

She tucked the parchment into her satchel and nodded at Griphook in thanks. She carefully counted out five hundred galleons and put them into a featherlight bag that Griphook gave her. Once she was done, Griphook led her out of the vault and locked the door before giving her the key back. The cart ride back to the main foyer of the bank was as silent as the ride to the vault.

"I also want to change some of this for Muggle money," said Jill, as they walked back into the foyer.

Griphook nodded and led her to a free goblin and muttered something in a harsh language that she didn't understand. The other goblin turned to Jill. "How much?" he asked.

Jill counted out a hundred galleons and placed it in front of the goblin. The goblin carefully counted it again, before handing over 500 pounds to her in twenty pound notes.

"Thank you," said Jill, carefully putting away the money in her bag.

She left the bank with the sack full of money stuffed into her satchel, her mind preoccupied with the revelations that the visit to Gringotts had brought. The biggest one being that she'd had a godfather, who had died the same year that she was born, and whose title she had inherited. She wondered why he had named her as his heiress, rather than his own child, but deduced that he must have died without one.

She took a moment to sit down at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and eat a small sundae to gather her thoughts and go through her list to make a plan of how she was going to tackle her long shopping list. Once she was done, she gathered up her satchel and walked to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Inside, she saw that someone else was already getting fitted. A plump witch with twinkling eyes smiled at Jill as she entered.

"Good afternoon, dear," she greeted. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes, please," said Jill, smiling the sweet smile that melted hearts of all the adults.

"Come this way, my dear," said the witch, that Jill presumed was Madam Malkin. "Got another young woman being fitted up right now."

Jill stood up on the tall platform and glanced at the girl next to her, who had robes pinned to her body. She had long blonde hair that was in a braid and sharp blue eyes that looked curiously at Jill.

"Hello," said the girl. "Starting this year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," said Jill. "I am Jill Potter."

"Daphne Greengrass," she introduced herself. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," said Jill.

Daphne surveyed her closely before speaking again. "Are you here on your own too?" she asked.

"Yes," said Jill. "Why do you ask?"

"Then I would suggest buying a featherlight trunk before you continue shopping. Otherwise you would be lugging heavy bags all day," she said, in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Where do I get one of those?" asked Jill, feeling slightly out of her depth, which was a feeling she didn't like.

"There's a shop just down that way," said Daphne, pointing east. "Ask for the Elysian 319 model. It looks just like mine," she added, indicating a mahogany trunk on the floor.

Jill nodded slowly and made a note to buy the trunk. "So, why are you on your own?" asked Jill casually.

"I could ask the same," countered Daphne, but it was said with a small smile.

"Orphan," said Jill shortly.

"Stepmother who can't be bothered," said Daphne. "My father works a lot and is frequently out of the country, and Odette doesn't bother with my sister and I. So I usually do all the shopping."

"Sounds tough," said Jill. "Sister Marianne buys all our things at the orphanage that I live at, but we are allowed to go Christmas shopping."

Daphne nodded. "Have you bought anything else on your list yet?" she asked.

"No, I started here," said Jill.

"Do you want to shop together?" she asked.

"Sure," said Jill, already liking the girl with the dry attitude.

"Great," said Daphne, as Madam Malkin declared her done. She hopped down from the platform and waited until Jill was done with her fitting. Madam Malkin rang them both up, and they left the shop together.

"Come on," said Daphne. "The trunk shop is just down here."

Jill fell in step with Daphne as they dodged the crowd and finally reached a small shop tucked between an eatery and Gladrags Wizarding Wear, which Jill realised was a clothes shop. The interior of the trunk shop was dusty and filled to brim with trunks, suitcases, knapsacks and satchels of all sizes and styles. An elderly witch with neatly styled grey hair smiled at them when they walked in.

"Want another one for yourself, do you, dearie?" she asked Daphne.

"No, thank you, Hilda," said Daphne politely, though Jill realised that she was using the same polite tone that Jill used around adults to get what she wanted. "My friend here wanted to buy an Elysian 319 and I said there would be no better place than here."

"Oh, of course, of course," said Hilda, peering at Jill. "Will your parents be buying it for you, dearie?"

"No, just me," said Jill.

Hilda looked intensely curious but since the girls were looking at her expectantly, she smiled at them. "This way then," she said, and Jill followed her to a small display of trunks. "We have mahogany, ash, birch, beech and cherry," said Hilda, pointing at the different ones. "All of the Elysium 319 trunks are featherlight, and have rolling wheels and a handle so you don't have to carry them. They have a unique lock that you can set, and an anti-theft charm."

"I'll take the cherry," said Jill, admiring the dark glossy red trunk.

"Excellent choice," said Hilda, picking up the trunk in question and bringing it back to the counter. "That will be thirty galleons then."

Jill reached into her satchel and pulled out thirty gold coins and handed them to Hilda. "Thank you," she said, popping the bags with her robes into her new trunk.

"Of course, dear," said Hilda, as she waved Jill and Daphne from her shop. "Tell your friends."

Back outside once again, Jill was looking at Gladrags next door with a contemplative look on her face.

"Everything okay?" asked Daphne, noticing that Jill's attention was diverted.

"Yeah," said Jill. "Just making plans for future visits."

Daphne looked curious but didn't ask. "We should get on then," she said. "Shops will close in a few hours."

"Alright," agreed Jill easily and they headed towards Flourish and Blotts for their books.

While the clerk put together two sets of the first year textbooks, Jill wandered over to the 'New to Wizarding World?' section of the store and found a few books instructing new witches and wizards about the world they were entering. After some deliberation, she picked out two books 'A Concise History of the Ministry of Magic' and 'Everything You Need to Know About the Wizarding World and How it Works'.

While the clerk rang them up, Jill was astonished to see a large pile of a thick golden tome, that had a round-faced boy with blonde hair and pink cheeks waving from the cover.

"Ugh, this again," muttered Daphne, as she glared at the book.

"Neville Longbottom: the Boy Who Lived," read Jill. "An autobiography? Isn't he the same age as us?"

Daphne snorted. "I forget that you haven't been raised in the wizarding world," she said. "The boy wonder loves the spotlight. The entire wizarding world worships him. Enough to let an eleven-year old boy write an autobiography that will no doubt sell millions of copies."

"They have good reason to worship him, though huh?" asked Jill. "He vanquished Voldemort."

Daphne shuddered at the name and hushed Jill. "Don't say the name," she said. "And besides, he was just a baby when it happened. People make it sound like he heroically jumped up from his crib and slaughtered the Dark Lord with his own baby fists."

Jill choked back giggles as they paid for their books and packed them inside their respective trunks. She was tempted to stay and browse through more books, but Daphne told her about Owl Order, so she decided to pick up some catalogues instead. Their next stop was Eeylop's Owl Emporium to get Jill's owl, since Daphne was bringing her father's old owl to Hogwarts.

"His name is Dundee, and he is as mad as a hatter," complained Daphne as they walked through the rows of owl cages. "But Father was kind enough to give him to me, so I'm bringing him instead."

Jill chose a snowy white owl, with beautiful amber eyes. She held off on naming her until she found an appropriate name, and the girls left the shop with the owl in her new golden cage.

"We should go to Scrivenshaft's and the Apothecary next," said Daphne, checking the list. "After that it's the equipments shop and then wands are right next door."

Jill nodded as they walked into Scrivenshaft's which sold parchments and quills. They bought scrolls of parchment, quills and bottles of quick-drying inks in almost every colour. It only took a short while and they went to the Apothecary, which smelled terrible, but looked fascinating. The kindly shop assistant fixed up two standard beginner's potions kits for the girls. The equipments shop was where the girls bought their cauldrons and telescopes before they finally reached Ollivander's.

The small, dusty shop was filled from top to bottom with neat, rectangular boxes. There was a strange hush about the place, and even the confident Daphne looked a little solemn as they waited.

"Ah," said a soft voice, making the girls jump. "Come in, come in. I was expecting you, Miss Potter. And you too, Miss Greengrass."

A frail, elderly wizard with untidy grey hair stepped into the light, surveying the girls with large silver eyes. "I remember your father's first wand, Miss Potter. Mahogany, designed for Transfiguration. Your mother, on the other hand, favoured a cherry wand. Excellent for Charms work." Jill shifted uncomfortably as the man turned to Daphne.

"And your parents, Miss Greengrass. They were childhood sweethearts. Both chose an ash wand, but your mother's had a unicorn hair, while your father's had dragon heartstring. Oh yes, I remember every wand I have ever sold." He took a deep breath. "So, who wants to go first?"

Jill nodded at Daphne to go ahead. The man that Jill presumed was Ollivander, handed Daphne a wand. "Ash and phoenix feather, nine inches," he said.

Daphne took it and gave it a wave but nothing happened. Ollivander snatched it out of her hands and immediately handed her another one. "Ash and unicorn hair, nine and a half inches." Daphne waved it and the wand emitted bright blue sparks from the end.

"Excellent, excellent," said Ollivander. "You are more like your mother, Miss Greengrass than you might realise. Let me wrap that up for you."

Daphne handed the wand back in a daze and paid for the wand. Both Jill and Ollivander pretended not to notice the mistiness of her eyes.

"And now you, Miss Potter," said Ollivander, and Jill stepped forward.

Unlike Daphne, Jill went through ten different wands, until Ollivander went to the backroom and came out with a wand wrapped in crinkly paper. "I crafted this one yesterday," he said. "An odd combination and not one I use."

Jill gave a small gasp as she saw the wand. Unlike all the wands she had seen before, this one was pure white. She automatically reached for it and picked it up. Bright silver and gold sparks shot out from the tip and then a shower of petals fell out of it.

"Oh, perfect!" Ollivander clapped. "Most unusual and very temperamental, but it chose you."

"What is it?" asked Jill curiously, admiring the wand.

"The wood is from an old Aspen tree and the core is the hair of a newborn unicorn. Ten and three quarter inches," he said.

"Thank you," Jill said absently, still looking at her wand in fascination. "How much do I owe you?"

"Seven galleons," said Ollivander and Jill paid him, before placing her wand carefully inside her satchel.

By the time they emerged outside, evening had fallen over Diagon Alley. Daphne turned to Jill with a small smile. "I should get going," she said. "My little sister will be expecting me back for supper."

"Of course," said Jill. "Maybe I'll see you on September 1st?"

"No maybe about it," said Daphne firmly. "See you on the train."

Jill smiled a genuine smile. "See you on the train," she repeated and turned to leave.

"Oh, hang on," said Daphne, turning back to her. She reached into her pockets and tore out a bit of parchment and scribbled something down on it. "This is my address. Just put it on the envelope and your owl will find me," she said. "Write to me with any questions you might have. I suspect that there are quite a few."

"You have no idea," said Jill, pocketing the address with a grin. "Goodbye, Daphne. Thank you for all your help."

The girls parted ways and Jill went back into Muggle London. She must have looked an odd sight with a satchel around her neck, dragging a trunk behind her and carrying an owl cage under her arm. She hailed a cab right outside the Muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron, and did her best not to fall asleep due to sheer exhaustion during the short cab ride.

The cab ride dropped her off right in front of the orphanage, and Jill decided to forgo dinner in favour of retiring to her room. Her brief exhaustion had passed, and she started the long process of unpacking her new things and making her owl comfortable.

It had been a tumultuous day, but for the first time in her life, Jill felt like she had found her place in the world.