Rebecca closed her eyes, crossed her fingers, took a deep breath … and wished.

When she opened her eyes she was somewhere else entirely.

She took in her new surroundings with a confused sort of astonishment in her eyes - the ugly green walls, the cream-tiled flooring, the complete lack of door and windows - and then started as she noticed the girl walking towards her. How she could have possibly got in Rebecca couldn't imagine for the life of her.

The other girl gracefully took a seat in a large winged armchair that certainly hadn't been there a few seconds previously and drew a clipboard out of midair. She smiled at Rebecca and motioned for her to sit in the similar armchair that had mysteriously turned up just to her left. Numb with shock, Rebecca sat.

"What's going on?" she asked shakily, her dark brown eyes threatening to overspill with tears.

The other girl rolled her eyes, "Look, sister, you wished to," here she checked her clipboard, "be a part of such a wonderful adventure as those in Harry Potter, good grief, which, and let's face it, is just a thinly-veiled plea to be an actual part of that particular world … so where do you think you are?"

Rebecca gaped, "Magic's real?"

The girl snorted, "You wished on a star, for heaven's sake. If you didn't believe in magic then why did you even bother? Without magic, stars are just flaming balls of gas a few billion light-years away."

Rebecca didn't answer. Wishing on stars didn't mean you believed in magic, right? It was just what you did!

The girl sighed, "Look, I can understand that you're confused and scared about what's going on. Most of them were, you know. But you did wish for this and, with us, what you want is what you get. Literally. So I'll explain the deal, you'll tell me what you want and then you'll be on your way, ok?"

Rebecca nodded, thinking that if this was a dream then it was definitely one of the weirder ones.

The girl grinned at this, showing small, sharp, rather feline teeth, "Excellent," she beamed, "I'm Anna, by the way, but pretty much everyone calls me Notes."

"Rebecca Simons," Rebecca replied, rather shyly.

"Alrighty then," Notes scribbled this down on her clipboard and let loose another dazzlingly grin, "Any preferences for adaptations then? Or shall you have something completely new?"

"Pardon?" said Rebecca faintly, feeling rather lost.

"Your new name! Most people change theirs, although I've no idea why. Personally, I'd much rather be called Catherine or Maria that Electricia or Dementia."

"What do you mean 'most people'?"

"Well, you didn't think you were the only girl who wished did you? Heavens, no! There's millions! All you have to do is believe whole-heartedly and completely that your wish will come true - even if it's just for one millisecond of misguidance. After that you're directed straight to me."

"So there're others who wanted it too?" Rebecca had always though she was the only one who was so straight out obsessed with a fantasy world.

"Of course! And not just for Harry Potter, for other books too. Films and comic books as well - even cartoons! Belief is a powerful force, you know. But it was me who ended up with Harry Potter, the busiest station of all, for my sins. My friend, Sophie, got herself a nice cushy job at the Discworld station and someone turns up there about once in a blue moon. Most of the readers for that are far too cynical to even think of wishing to be a part of it."

Rebecca nodded slowly, trying to make sense of this mass of information.

Notes laughed at her confusion, "Hey, don't worry about it! So a name then?"

"Can't I just keep my old one?"

She shrugged, "Fair enough, it seems like a pretty good name to me," she jotted this name down on her clipboard, "Ok, so what do you want to look like?"

"Notes … please tell me what this is all about."

"Well, a lot of the girls coming through here - we don't get nearly so many boys, funnily enough - want to make themselves look a little different. Or a lot different. It's pretty much become a standard question now."

"I didn't just mean the question … I meant the whole interview!" Rebecca gestured wildly, "If I'm meant to be going into the Harry Potter universe then why can't I just go?"

Notes looked horrified, "Without a visa? But how would you survive? Our visa gives you the incredible magical powers of your choosing and a whole load of charisma. Buckets of it, in fact. Without the visa you're just another Muggle, albeit one with knowledge of certain future events. Without the visa I'd be nothing like this at all!" She motioned to herself and Rebecca stared in sudden understanding.

Notes was a tiny girl, slender-framed and short, with a scruffy bright blue pixie cut and large lilac eyes. Several multi-coloured sparks of light, looking suspiciously like fairies, flitted around her shoulders.

"So you see?" Notes continued, smiling softly at Rebecca, "If I hadn't got the visa then you'd never have listened to anything I said. It gives you a power over people, makes them want to hear what you have to say. Other people don't have to see it, you know, it can become invisible - but some of the girls like to keep it on display and make up back-stories for it - you know, given to them by a dead parent, that sort of thing. And you can change settings on it, of course," Notes tugged gently on the intricately beautiful necklace that hung around her slender neck, "Some of the girls keep theirs on the lowest setting so that the characters still act relatively normal to them. You just have to change what link in the chain the pendant's attached to."

"Will I meet other … wishers … there?" Rebecca asked, unsure of what to call the others who Notes had arranged things for.

"No, of course not. There's a different version of the universe for each of you - although friends sometimes go in together. By the way, you'll probably forget about this meeting as soon as you enter the world. Most people do, I can't imagine why."

Rebecca nodded, "I understand now. Thank you so much but I don't think I want to take part in this, Notes. Can I go home, please?"

Notes shrugged but nodded and the last thing Rebecca heard before she slipped away was:
"Well, that was a turn-up for the books."