Kate McGregor stuffed the last of her belongings into a suitcase and sat down on her bare bed, looking at her now-empty room. The faded curtains ruffled as a summer breeze blew in, the scent of grass tickling Kate's nostrils. She sighed before standing up and pulling her luggage down a flight of stairs to the foyer. Her parents patiently waited outside with the rest of their belongings so they could go to the airport.

Kate's father had received a special promotion that moved him to the London branch of the corporation. This promotion meant a huge salary increase, so the McGregors could do nothing but accept and relocate their lives to another continent. For the most part, Kate was ecstatic. This was a huge adventure, an exhilarating trip into the unknown. But her home was the tiny town in Ohio that she grew up in, and part of her heart would stay in her big ranch house. Her father had already explained the company had given them a large apartment, great for a family of three, which rested six stories off the ground. Everything was built up in London, unlike Ohio where everything sprawled over hills and plains.

She folded her tall frame into the awaiting car and tugged the suitcase in after her. As the car drove down the winding driveway Kate looked back at the house, her home, one last time. It almost seemed to dull before her eyes as the life and love left, leaving behind a shell. It was almost too much to bear. Kate quickly turned around, wiping tears off her cheeks. Her mother, sensing the teenager's grief, grabbed Kate's hand.

"I know this sucks, sweetie. No one likes leaving their home. But London will be fun, you'll get to have new friends and learn all about another culture," her mother said. Kate gave her a watery smile.

"I know. I promise, in a few hours, I'll be getting excited, okay? But I love Ashland, and nothing will be quite like it is now ever again. This is so hard," Kate failed to mask the sob that left her body. Her mother gave her a sympathetic smile ad squeezed her hand. This was something Kate had to come to terms with on her own. She plugged in her earbuds and let the music envelop her; music had always served as a balm for life.

The trip to the airport took a couple of hours, which gave Kate time to cope with the worst of the pain. Excitement took over, so that by the time the McGregors were checked in, Kate was almost bouncing. She was scanning magazines of numerous features in London when they finally boarded the plane. And Kate's life changed forever.

London greeted the family with gray skies and fat droplets of rain. They took a taxi into the bustling city. Kate was already in love. Britain had always topped the list of "Places I Want to Go" in Kate's mind, followed quickly by Jamaica and Japan, but that's for a different story. Arriving at the looming apartment building, Kate and her parents quickly transferred their luggage to a cart and paid the cabbie with foreign money. As promised, their flat was spacious, encompassing half of the level. Kate dragged her two suitcases into her room and flicked on the lights. She was met with white walls, a medium-sized bed, and another set of doors. She dropped her bags by the bed and opened the doors.

Oh. My. God. I have my own walk-in closet! OHMYGOD! Kate thought, jumping around briefly before exploring the small space. It had… Oh my God, I has a window! With a WINDOW SEAT! Kate immediately sat down and examined her view. She could see the building across the street and the wide expanse of road beneath her. She ran back to her luggage and started unpacking. She pulled her long, brown hair into a sloppy ponytail and dished out clothes. These she folded or hung in her new (WALK-IN!) closet. Next she hefted out her books. She only brought the necessities, knowing she'd have plenty of time to restock her collection in her new home.

She stopped at the thought. Had home been replaced so quickly? Did she move on that fast? No, she reasoned, Ohio would always have a place in her heart, but this place was where she lived now, and she accepted that. This, now, was home. It would never have the open, light feel her old room had, nor the sweet smell of flowers in the spring, or even the gentle sound of crickets. This would be gray, and maybe stylish, and loud with the sounds of the city. But maybe, just maybe, everything would work out. The city might open up to her, and things might turn out okay.

Kate smiled sadly and hugged herself for a moment. She moved toward her books and started lining them up on the wall next to the bed. The classics went first, then her favorite trashy romances, and her weathered copy of Salem's Lot. And last but not least, she unpacked her favorite books, her most read books, and her personal friends, the Harry Potter series. These books were the main reason Kate had become infatuated with London in the first place. The thrill of magic, the wonder of Voldemort, the clumsiness of Neville Longbottom, and the adorable dope-headedness of Ron Weasley glorified the country in Kate's eyes from childhood. She ran a finger over the curled, abused cover of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, thinking back to when her father read these books to her at bedtime. He adopted a voice for each character; a gruff mumble for Hagrid, a wise lilt for Dumbledore, even a falsetto for Hermione.

She stood up and pulled out her posters. Two of them were from Kate's favorite bands. The third was of Ron, backed by Hermione and Harry, looking fearlessly into the unknown. Kate loved it the most; she'd had a fan-girl crush on him for three years. She taped these to random, especially large places of the walls to dim down the starkness of her abode. The only things left in her suitcases were her toiletries, which belonged in the bathroom. Satisfied, Kate stood at the door and looked around. She needed a bookcase, definitely, and a mirror, and a bedside table, but things were looking decent.

She set out to explore the rest of the flat. The living room came with an industrial-looking gray couch and a TV. The TV didn't work; they didn't have anything connected yet. The bathroom had a mirror over the sink and a claw-footed tub-shower. At least the toilet wasn't too short. Next, Kate found the kitchen. This room also had a window, conveniently placed for a bored housewife doing dishes. The view was more of what was in the (WALK-IN!) closet, so Kate did not linger. The kitchen was connected to the dining room. A long table rested here, with eight chairs accompanying it. She walked back to the bedrooms and found her parents' room. Inside, the couple was putting away their clothes in their own walk-in closet. A small part of Kate became disappointed. Her childish side had hoped that she had the cool room with the awesome storage unit, but no, every room had one.

Her parents finished quickly and the family left their new home to find food. They left Ohio almost an entire day before and had been living off airport food, which was enough to make anyone desperate. After a kind local had pointed out several restaurants and grocery stores on a map, the McGregors went shopping. They ate first and, for the first time, experienced true British cuisine. It was definitely different from their previous diet, but it was by no means bad. They then went to a grocery store and picked up everything they would need for a few days.

That night, Kate lay down on her bare bed and closed her eyes. Sure enough, car horns and sirens blared, even through the closed window. Kate rolled over, tuning the sounds out. Goodnight, London, Kate thought, and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning dawned bright and gray. Kate rolled off her mattress and stumbled into her closet, pulling out random articles of clothing before heading to the shower. After that, she breezed into the kitchen and made herself toast. She pondered school life as she ate. Would there be uniforms? Would she be mocked for her accent? Would she be a social outcast? It was with these troubled thought Kate ventured downstairs to get the mail. Bills, propaganda, some official looking letter, and—what was this? She fingered the corner of the thick envelope.

"Kataline McGregor, 1350 McCartney Blvd, Apt. 402, Bedroom in the back, London," Kate whispered. There was only one place she'd ever heard of that used that kind of specificity, but that was fiction. Hogwarts wasn't real, surely not. Kate walked slowly back to the apartment before flipping over the letter. In the center was a large, red wax stamp. On it was a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a twisting snake. Overlapping these was an H. Kate gasped before everything went black.

When she woke up her parents were huddled over her, peering worriedly into her eyes.

"Kate, are you okay?" asked her father. Kate nodded and lifted her hand. The letter was still in her grasp. Her mother plucked it from between her fingers and scanned the envelope quickly.

"Oh my goodness, Ed, look!" her mother gasped. Kate snatched the letter.

"Is this a joke? Were you guys teasing me?" Kate hissed.

"No, we've never seen this before, right, Barb?" Her mother shook her head. A huge, beaming smile soon overcame Kate's face. She gently pried the stamp off the back and pulled out a thick, off-white packet of paper. She unfolded it and began to read:

"Dear Kate, we formally invite you to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…." The letter went on to detail the first day of school and congratulate her on her new title as witch.

"Oh holy Jesus Christ, I'm a witch. I-I get books and robes—I get potions and quills and—Ohmigod I get a wand!" Kate began hyperventilating and bouncing simultaneously. She flipped to the second page which listed everything she'd need for school. "I get to visit fricking Diagon Alley! With Gringotts and Florean's and Madame Malkin's and Ollivander's!" Kate shrieked. She stopped. "Can we go today? Oh my God, please, can we go today?"

Her parents could do naught but nod, both still in shock. Kate shrieked again before running to her room to find appropriately witch-y ("Oh my God, I really am a witch!") clothes.

Ron slumped out of bed and stretched, cracking several vertebrae, before rumpling his hair and thumping his way downstairs for breakfast. Over the summer, Ron grew yet again, and he was now 6'3". His hair now brushed the ceiling. Mrs. Weasley had set up mounds of food, as always, so Ron dove in. After fifteen minutes of almost non-stop eating he sat back and relaxed. What a good way to wake up. An owl flew in and dropped a package of letter in his plate, splashing him with gravy. Never mind, Ron thought drily. "Mom, Hogwarts letters are here!"

Mrs. Weasley rushed in and took the gravy-covered letters from Ron's plate. "Well, really, Ron. Did you have to put them in the gravy?"

"It wasn't me, it was that bloody owl!" Ron protested, but it was no use. Mrs. Weasley was off, deftly pulling out the list of things to buy and flicking her wand to clean up the kitchen.

"Well, we might as well go today. Go get ready Ronald, I'll wake your sister," she muttered. Ron stood up and made his way back up to his room. He got dressed and pulled out his money from the sock drawer. It wasn't much, but he might be able to find something he really wanted that he could afford. He stuffed this money into the pocket of his pants and rushed back downstairs. Ginny, who had also grown considerably, was running her fingers through her waist-length, fiery hair. She stepped into the fire, reaching for some emerald Floo Powder, and shouted, "Diagon Alley!"

Here we go again, Ron thought.