The sudden noise was deafening, as I suddenly found myself sitting in the middle of a bustling road. However, strangely enough, it was bustling because it was filled with people, not cars. And the people...

"No," I thought to myself. "No, no, no, no, no, nononononono." God so help me but... This had better be a dream.

I stood up swiftly, only to be nearly squashed by a giant of a man. Said giant swung his arm and accidentally sent me flying.

The pain was enough to tell me the truth.

"Hagrid," I gasped in realization, trying to breathe. There was no way the half-giant could have heard me, but he was making his way over to me in any case.

"Sorry abo't that. I'm so big, I don't always see where me arms go."

"It's okay," I told him, sounding rather winded. "Am I in Diagon Ally?"

Hagrid looked concerned.

I turned and noticed a boy who looked to be about eleven years old standing a few feet away, watching me curiously. I didn't even need to see the scar to know who he was. I've had read his description thousands of times--bright green eyes, messy black hair, taped up glasses, rather thin with his 'knobby' knees...my own knees buckled and I almost fell to the ground.

I mean, forget Hagrid! Standing only about two feet away from me was Harry Potter!

"I...um..." I gasped, my brain running about a thousand miles in the space of seconds. "How is this happening?! You know what? Never mind that," I thought, "I mean, who cares? I'm standing right in front of Harry freaking Potter!"

And then of course that's when my snarkiness kicked in.* "So you're Harry Potter," I say. "Hm. Don't look like much."

He frowned, uncertain how to react. Hagrid didn't seem to notice that I had said anything at all. His bushy eyebrows were drawn together and he was looking at me worriedly.

"Yer seem kinder faint," he said.

Harry nodded a little to himself. I could almost hear his brain going, "of course, she's delirious or something..."

"Nah," I said, giddiness sweeping through me, "I'm fine." In actuality I'm more than fine. I'm floating. I can't believe this is happening. I mean, this couldn't possibly be a dream, Hagrid took care of that doubt. I also can't believe that I just insulted The Boy Who Lived. Oh well. Harry had never been my favorite character anyways. That title always went to Snape.

Harry seemed to have decided to ignore my earlier comment. He opened his mouth to speak. "What's that," he asked, pointing. I glanced down to where his finger indicated.

Oh.

On my forearm is a tattoo. Not a real one, of course. Mom would kill me. But one of those fake applicable ones that wash off in the shower. The tattoo says, in bold, curling black letters, 'ALWAYS', but the "A" is actually the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

Whoops. I quickly raised my arm to cover it when suddenly I stopped and pursed my lips. Why shouldn't Harry know? About everything? Why did so many people have to die when I had the knowledge to prevent it? And now I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to look Harry dead in the eye and go, 'You're a horcux, Harry'. So naturally, because suppressing my inner fangirl wasn't something I ever did, I say, "you're a horcux Harry." And right then and there, I decided that maybe, just maybe, I was also entitled to have some fun while I was here.

"I'm a... What?"

Oh. Right. He wouldn't know until... Damn. But good grief, his face is so funny. I burst out laughing.

Once I catch my breath I answer him. "A horcux. Nasty spell, er, ritual or whatever it's classified as. Basically when someone kills another person and preforms the spell, they can split their soul. Tommy had already split his soul so many times that when the killing curse rebounded, he left behind more than he intended."

Both Harry and Hagrid looked at me slightly confused and mostly scared.

"Tommy," I sighed. "As in Tom? Tom Marvolo Riddle? As in 'I am Lord Voldemort'? Voldemort?"

Their faces showed even more fear now.

"Oh, honestly," I cried, stealing Hermione's catchphrase. "Don't either of you play anagrams." I then held out my right hand towards them, palm facing outwards. "You know what? Never mind. Don't answer that."

Hagrid seemed to twitch. "Yer shouldn't've said tha'..." He mumbled.

I turned to raise an eyebrow at him. Really? I shouldn't have said that? Then again, I did just spoil the whole second and sixth book. That was a good reason, I supposed.

Still, I hadn't known that Hagrid had actually known all that to begin with. Had Hagrid known about the horcruxes? I don't recall that ever being a thing.

"Yer shouldn't've said his name," Hagridcontinued, and then I realized what he meant. "It's cursed, that is."

"Well, eventually it is, but you can say his name for a good five or six books at least," I reassured him.

He looked at me funny.

"Books?"

"Er... Years. Sorry, my bad." Internally I slapped myself on the forehead. Doy! I'm actually in the books. Somehow. Wow, I'm taking this oddly well, aren't I?

Hagrid looked at me hard.

"What's yer name," he asked.

"Oh," I said, feeling foolish for not having given it to him in the first place. "I'm Marlee Merotaive."

"Is yer parents nearby," he questioned.

"Nope," I replied cheerfully. "But considering that no one in my family is magic, this isn't a surprise."

"So you're kind of like me," Harry said quietly.

"Like him? How..? Oh, yes, right." "I am not magic either," I assure him, plastering a grin onto my face.

"O' course yer magic! Yer wouldn't've been able ter come here if yer weren't!"

It was my turn to give Hagrid a funny look.

"Muggle parents, siblings, grandparents and guardians must be able to come here when accompanying their magical children, grandchildren and wards."

"But yer said tha' yer all by yerself. How are yer here?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. My guess is magic. I don't think my parents even exist here."

Hagrid heaved a sigh. "If yer all alone I reckon tha' yer should come wit' me and Harry." Clearly he decided to ignore my comment about my parents not existing.

"Happy too," I agreed. "Heading towards Gringotts?"

Harry gaped at me.

I rolled my eyes. "It is rude to stare you know. I mean, you should know, being Harry Potter and all."

"Er... Right." The poor kid did look really put off.

The three of us started to make our way down the road, the huge white building beckoning us. As we walked, I looked everywhere I could, wanting to see the whole entity of Diagon Ally. That's how I caught a look at my reflection.

I don't know why my fake tattoo transferred over, because I was clearly in a body younger than sixteen. My guess was that I'd be about eleven, because things always work out too conveniently in books. And exactly how convenient would it be if I was to be in the same year as Harry?

I continued walking like it didn't bother me. My hair was a disgusting mess.

"Um..." I looked over at Harry.

"Yes," I asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I was wondering," he started, scuffing his left shoe on the ground, disturbing a loss pebble, "if you know about Hogwarts?"

I blinked. Then I blinked again.

"What kind of question is that," I asked. "It's like asking what Quidditch is!"

"Quidd...itch," Harry repeated weakly.

I pretended to look shocked. Then I sighed. "Yes, I know about Hogwarts. And quidditch is a wizarding sport that combines a bunch of muggle ones, but they also toss in flying on broomsticks for good measure."

"Okay... And Hogwarts?"

I spread my arms out. "What do you want to know? The Room of Requirement is located on the seventh floor if my memory serves correctly."

"Um... I wanted to know about it, just in general."

I liked this version of Harry. He wasn't annoying in the first two books as he was in the rest of them. Bossy Gryffindor.

"Well, Hogwarts is set up with four different Houses. Each House has specific traits, though it does tend to overlap. You get sorted into said Houses by way of a magically enchanted hat."

"And the four Houses," Harry asked eagerly as we walked up the stairs to Gringotts.

"Ravenclaw, the smart House. Gryffindor, the brave House. Hufflepuff, the loyal House. Slytherin, the clever House."

"Isn't being smart and being clever the same thing?"

"And this is why you are a Gryffindor my friend," I reply. "No. They are not. Being smart is just being able to retain information and using it in an exact scenario. Being clever, and here is where it overlaps, is to be able to take that information and applying it outside of set parameters. Also, please keep in mind, when talking to others, that none of the Houses are good or evil. Sure, Voldemort is from Slytherin. But so was Merlin. And Gryffindor had some pretty nasty blokes too."

"Like who?" Harry was going to regret asking that question.

"James Potter, Siruis Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew for starters. Not that they were necessarily bad people, but they were pretty rotten when attending Hogwarts. Hm... Maybe not Lupin, but Peter was particular nasty. I mean, after school. Still is, I mean with betraying your parents like that." I shake my head as Harry looks at me, shocked, while Hagrid steers is towards the cart Griphook was leading us towards, clearly thinking that I was absolute bonkers.

1) Hi! I'm going to be inturrupting the story of my adventures down here from time to time, so whenever you see an asterisk (*) come find me!

2) I'd like to interject and note that I was in shock at the time.