I'd also like to thank my beta maraie, who's kind enough to put up with my atrocious writing mistakes (which are quite frequent until she goes through my story).

I've also made some adjustments to this story so it is all cannon.

Disclaimer: I own everything (humble, aren't I?), but not the recognizable characters, and obviously not the HP Universe.

There's a moment in everyone's life when the realization hits them like a ton of rocks that they're completely lost. They wake up one morning, look around, and ask themselves, "Who am I," and "Where am I?"

Consequently, most people take a good look at their life, and try to make sense of it and put it back together.

I guess you could say the rocks have just hit me. Not the normal rocks, oh no. These are the indestructible kind, with a bit of a bounce so they hit you over and over. Unfortunately the rocks snuck up on me from behind, equipped with a silencing charm. Most people knowingly walk into their ton of rocks, but not me. I whole-heartedly believe this isn't my fault.

Now I'm in the process of figuring out how I got here, why I'm here, and what I'm going to do about it. Thing is, I really did wake up and asked my self, "Where am I?"

I've never seen this place, I don't know how I got here, and I'm alone. Not just no-one's-in-the-room-with-me alone, but really, honestly alone. I've looked in some of the side doors here, (there are too many to do anything else, but become more lost) and I'm the only soul here. I might think I've died, but I read about death in a book by Ellen the Expired, who died once, and this isn't like anything she talked about.

First thought that ran through my head was 'Stupid Marauders, spiked my pumpkin juice and left me somewhere again.' Last time they did it, they left me in some room across from a portrait of ballerina trolls (no idea what that's about), but no one believes me because it's not there anymore. It's one of those traveling rooms like the trophy room.

Back to the problem, at hand: where is here? This place is actually more than just a bit creepy. First of all, it's got quite a bit of light. Real scary, I know, but it is when it's just there. Having no windows what so ever, none that I've seen anyway, and no candles, torches, or light bulbs to speak of, the light is just kind of here. Not in floating orbs or anything; it follows me around. It's dark about eight meters in front of me, but when I walk that way, the light goes there too. It gives me the shudders really, kind of like fingernails being dragged across a blackboard. That's the worst.

Anyway, I told you before about all the doors, right? Well, they're all over the place. The walls on either side of me seem like they are more a row of doors than they are actual walls. Plus, there are an impossible amount of staircases. Looking at the rooms and where they are located, it doesn't seem possible that all of the staircases lead to places, but they do. There's always a door at the top of the stairs, and it leads to another hall where there isn't space for one. Of course that hall is full of more doors, so it really is impossible for me to not become more and more lost. For the moment, I've only checked a few of the rooms, minus the Locked Door. There's this big steel door (okay, it's the same size as the other doors) in the corner of the 'Wake-up Room,' as I have dubbed the room I first found myself in, and I can't manage to open it. I could have tried to go around and find another door in, but seeing as I feel comfortable because I can still find the Wake-up Room, I'm staying here for awhile.

Funny thing is, I woke up standing. I wasn't laying on the couch or the floor; I was standing up. Perhaps even weirder than that is how clean everything is. There isn't a speck of dust to be found anywhere on the couch, the tapestries, or the ficus; that turns out to be a good thing, as I have encountered some difficulties with my asthma in the past (that was an unlucky discovery made by my first time on a broom; I'm pretty sure they've fixed the dent in the hour hand on the clock by now).

I swear this place gets creepier by the second, particularly because of the music. Every now and then I catch wind of the tiniest strain of music; although I only hear it for a couple of seconds, it still sends shivers up my spine. I can recognize most of the bits that I hear, but there are some I can't remember the name of. It's almost like the game on the radio where they play a couple notes of a song and you have to guess what the name is. Really annoying, it is, because then I try to remember what the title is, and it drives me insane. Maybe I'm a test rat for new ways to make a human go crazy. Of course, it's a mystery to all why they chose me; I've already gone way over the deep end.

Just to prove I'm crazy, you have no idea who I even am. Everyone calls me Lily, but my real name is Lillian. Call me that and you may end up with a beak instead of a nose, permanently. My full name is Lillian Evans. You didn't think I'd tell you my middle name, did you? Only my very best friends know what it is, and they're sworn to secrecy (also threatened with a beak).

Perhaps one of the scariest things about being here is the fact that I don't have my wand. Whoever kidnapped me took my wand too; in layman's terms, a witch without her wand is almost begging, 'Come get me!'

It's ironic really, being so dependent on a piece of wood. Before I was eleven, the only thing I needed to feel safe was Dad. He was always there, and Dad never let me fall. There was this one time that I was rappelling off my house, and Dad was holding my rope at the top. He had some job convincing me to even try, but when he promised not to drop me I had no problem. Mum had a hissy fit when she found out.

Now that I know I'm a witch, oh yeah, I'm a witch. Anyway, I feel naked without my humble wood stick, and all normal methods of self-defense have left my mind. I was a Girl Scout (proud to say I've upheld the law my whole life) before I knew about the wizarding world, and so I got most of my badges. One of them was Personal Safety, and I had the opportunity of learning this kind of Taekwondo move that flips your assailant over their back, then pins them in a kissing-their-knee position–the back of their knee. Unfortunately, that useful tidbit of information has been a victim of the bog they call my mind. I'm sure it's nicely filed away somewhere, but that doesn't mean that I know where that somewhere is.

I actually kind of wish tha –

Okay, panic time. I told you about the Locked Door, right? Well, it's now open.