Disclaimer: Many of the names and locations used in this story are owned by J.K. Rowling and I do not wish to assume any claim of them, I am merely using them to help my imagination along….

Orphaned Sara

There's not much I recall about my parents. My mother, Ariana was beautiful, a half-blood with a marvelous voice that even the most pure and prejudiced of the wizarding world enjoyed. It was her voice that brought us to the Whippets home in London, a grand estate on the outskirts of the city known for frequent galas.

My father was a wizard, well known for his potions skills. He owned an apothecary shop in Hogsmeade, where he sold many of the herbal concoctions he spent most of his time brewing in the basement of our home.

My last night with them was spent enjoying the attentions of the Whippets and their guests while my mother sang at a dinner party in their home. My fondest memory is that of a dance I shared with my father. We danced to my mother's voice, bringing on applause from all of those around us. I stood on his toes as the music slowed. The cologne he wore filled my nose, and I buried my face in his stomach while he moved his feet in time to the music.

Behind me, the long burgundy drapes whispered in the breeze from the open doors, and my father's dress shoes clicked softly on the polished marble floor. It was a lovely night, and it has made an even lovelier memory. Every morning when I wake, I wish I was that five year old girl again, standing on my father's toes, and listening to my mother's sweet voice as she sang.

Unfortunately, one cannot go back, only forward. I was sent home with my governess long before the party ended. I fell asleep on the long drive back to our small manor home. It was a peaceful ride… the calm before the storm.

I awoke the next morning to Minnie's slender hand shaking my shoulder. "Sara, wake up. Hurry…we've got to go." She urged, pulling the blankets off of me and sliding my limp arm into my heavy wool coat. I yawned, stretching as she shoved my boots onto my bare feet, without my socks. I frowned. "Minnie, what's going on?"

She didn't answer, pulling me up from the bed and dragging me out of my bedroom and down the hall to Daddy's office. She pulled me into the room, and closed the door behind me. I could hear something banging downstairs, but Minnie picked up Daddy's desk-lamp. "Grab hold, Sara, now."

I did as she told, and a few seconds later we were on a sidewalk in a quiet muggle village. It was so early there was no one on the street as we walked quickly down the sidewalk. Minnie still pulled me faster than my feet could move and I stumbled. She caught me, and stopped still in her tracks. She turned and knelt facing me.

"Sara, something's happened. Your parents have been killed. I…..I'm sorry." She looked at me with a worried expression. "I don't have much time..I'm supposed to be at the school by now.. they'll start looking for me soon. Listen, I'm going to have to leave you, and it may be a long time before I can come back for you. You must promise that until I come back for you, you cannot talk about magic. Not a word about being a witch, nothing, do you promise?"

I am not sure why, but I nodded, and without another word she pulled me along again. A few minutes later we were standing in front of an orphanage and after a moment's exchange of words with the headmistress, Minnie had left me in the care of Miss Penelope Evans, headmistress of the Clearwater House For Orphaned Children. I was a very confused five year old.

My first few months at the orphanage were filled with adaptations. I learned to live among muggles as if I were one with an uncanny ease that I think would have impressed my wizarding compatriots. My only lapse was that at first sight of a broom I made an attempt to mount up and fly the two foot altitude children of my age were allowed, only to find that my broom didn't rise at the command of "up" and I was being looked at strangely by the children around me.

After that, I spent a while observing the other children and how they played. I was considered an unusual child, but not one to be feared or avoided. The other children merely tolerated me as I tagged along behind.

For a while, I was angry, and then anger turned into hurt. I wanted to know why my parents had been taken away. I wanted to hurt the wizard responsible. I wanted…so dearly, to go back to the wizarding world, where I could learn how to fight. I waited every day for a sign of my governess, but first months, and then years passed. When I was eight, I was adopted by a couple by the last name Barrett, and moved to a cottage in the country. I wailed and screamed when they drove me away from the orphanage. How would Minnie find me?

Time went on, and I attended the local school, and made a few friends. I fit in, and my adoptive parents loved me. Life was good. Until the day an elderly chap in a long cloak arrived on our doorstep and insisted he speak to my parents. I recalled little from before my arrival at the orphanage, but I knew enough to know this was a wizard, and I wasn't sure if he was of the better sort.

At a curious eleven years old, I stood outside the door of James Barrett's study, my ear pressed to the hard wood listening to the wizard telling my adoptive father about my origins, and I heard him mention that I had been signed up to go to a school called Hogwarts somewhere up north, and if Mr. and Mrs. Barrett were willing to sign the forms, I could attend free of charge. I could picture my parents exchanging looks of confusion, probably shaking their heads no. What would happen if Mr. Barrett said no I wondered? Would they look at me strangely from now on? Would I be allowed to return to our world, and fight Lord Voldemort?

I heard Mr. Barrett's deep voice say "No." and sighed. I raised a slender hand to the door, knocking softly. It was a moment before the door opened, and my adoptive mother, Margaret stood there looking down at me with concern. At least it was concern and not hate. I was afraid they'd hate me because I was different.. but concern…that meant she at least still loved me. I looked over to Mr. Barrett, and took a few steps into the room. I looked first at him, and then moved my gaze back to her.

Standing there nervously I looked finally upon Albus Dumbledore. He looked at me with a strange piercing look, as if he was sizing me up. I took a deep breath, and spoke. "Mum, Dad, I want to go."

Mother's eyes filled up with tears. She'd been unable to bear children, though Doctors had done everything they could. She had been a very loving, doting mother. It would be hard being away from her, but I had to go back, I needed to know more about my birth parents, about whom they were, and who I was. I needed to learn more about Voldemort, and how to destroy him.

James wrapped his arm around her, murmuring calming words to her. Through a lump in my throat I continued. "It's not because I'm unhappy here. You've been the best parents I could have hoped for, and…I'm going to miss you every second I'm away…but I think I need to go. My parents died when I was five. I remember the night.. and I want to know..who killed them, and why. I want to learn about magic."

The look on the wizard's face was still one of curiosity. I wondered what he thought of me.

Finally, my father let go of Mrs. Barrett and came over to me, taking me by the hand, he knelt down in front of me. His brown eyes scanned my face, and then nodded, looking back to Margaret. "I think she should go."

Albus Dumbledore stood up, and held out a roll of parchment which contained lists of what appeared to be books, and other necessities I would need. "School starts in two weeks.. I will send someone to help you get your books. I look forward to having you at Hogwarts, Miss Barrett."

There was an obvious glance between him and Dad, and I was ushered out of the room by my mother, who with a teary glance at me, closed the door once more, leaving me by myself in the hall. I smiled to myself. What an adventure I was about to begin!