"Sabine! Please come here!" Mummy's voice wafts easily up the stairs to my room where I lie prone on my bed, reading a book.

"I'll be down in a second, Mum!" Its just soo bloody hot! I slip into a sundress-I feel like I might even overheat in it! Then I run down the stairs, leaping down the last 5 all at once.

"Sabine," Mummy says, sternly. "You know that isn't safe."

"Sorry, Mummy," I mumble.

"It's alright, just don't do that again." I nod. "Okay, I called you down because you got a letter."

She pauses for effect. I never get letters. I'm barely friends with the other students at primary school.

"It's not just any letter. It's from Hogwarts."

"HOGWARTS!" I yell, giddy. Of course, we all expected the letter, just about every witch or wizard in England is given the choice to go there. There isn't another real wizarding school in the country so very few end up making another choice.

Mummy hands me the letter. It's thick, made of a rich parchment, and addressed in a elegant, slanting, text.

Miss S. Over
The Second Bedroom on the Left
Second Floor,
23 Iverness Boulevard,
Cambridge

On the back, there is a large seal with the letter H and the four colors of the school in the quadrants of the seal.

I tear it open, revealing several thick pages of parchment:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Soc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Over,
It is my great pleasure to inform you that you've been accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for your seven-year education in magic starting this first day of September, 1992. Attached, you will find a list of the books, equipment, and tools that you will need this year, as well as instructions for boarding the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 3/4 at 10:00 AM on September 1. We await your owl by no later than August 25.

Yours Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagal
Deputy Headmistress

My hands tremble with excitement as I move to the second page, a list of the textbooks and equipment I'll need at school. "Mummy when can we go and get all this? Where do we go to get all this?"

You see, my parents decided that I should grow up with mostly muggle surroundings so that I wouldn't be clueless about the world outside of magic. So I know basically nothing about magic, except the slight glimpses into the world I get from my mother and her job. Of course, it's is primarily because since my dad is a muggle, we have to worry about the Statute of Secrecy or something like that, which basically says that we aren't allowed to let muggles really know about the wizarding world at all anyways.

Of course, there are many things I know about the wizarding world, like the existence and purpose of Hogwarts and that there are many schools just like it all over the world. The United States has four and there are almost a dozen scattered around continental Europe. But where wizards and witches could go to buy books? I'm just as clueless as a muggle.

"There's a village in London," Mummy says. "Called Diagon Alley. It's one of the biggest population centers of the wizarding community in England. They have dozens of stores there catering to magical needs, like preparing for Hogwarts.

"We're celebrating your birthday early this year, as you are going to need to pack for school when your birthday actually is, seeing as you'll need to be ready to go the next day. So before your party in the afternoon, we'll go there, and get you your wand and let you get uniforms and all of that.

"We won't need to get you textbooks then, because I already bought them for you. Or rather, because I already bought you a couple of them. I'm giving you my copies of the books that haven't changed much since I was at school. They are still in fine condition, and have my notes in them, so you can use them to help you study."

I smile. "It's like having you there to help me!"

"That's right, Pet." Mummy waves her wand, and a tall stack of books comes floating towards us from the study. My mouth drops. Mummy never performs magic at home. I see the titles as the books settle on the kitchen table a few feet away. A History of Magic, Standard Book of Spells, Grade One,Introductory Potion-making, An Introduction to Transfiguration, Magical Astronomy, Book 1, Defense Against the Dark Arts, A Primer, How to Overcome Evil, By Gilderoy Lockhart, The Death of the Banshee, By Gilderoy Lockart, and like three more books by this git so egotistical to put his name in the title of the books, never mind that the byline was also emblazoned along the spine.

"These look more like bad travelogues than textbooks," I say, pointing to the Gilderoy Lockart books.

"Yeah well, as much as the man is an reprehensible git, he's got some real accomplishments to his name, and some people seem to like him. The wizarding tabloids gave him an award for having the best smile in the country. People don't like teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, no one seems to last more than a year anymore. Dumbledore needs to take what he can get. And this year, all he could get was Lockhart."

I must not be hiding mt suspicion of the books well, because Mummy then says, "Just don't get too worked up about him. That's why I included the first book about Defense. It's not a required text, just the one I used at Hogwarts. It's quite good. If you're frustrated by his class, just read it."

I smile. Mummy always knows how to satisfy my thirst for knowledge.

"Now go find your school friends. You aren't going to be able to see them during the year, since your going to Hogwarts and they aren't, so enjoy your last few weeks with them."

I carry my wonderful new books-well most of them are wonderful-to my room, storing them neatly in my closet, well out of sight from any of the prying eyes of my friends. Then I run back downstairs, to the telephone. I live a few blocks from most children of professors, so I call Jenny, who is the most central. I punch her number in and pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" It's Jenny's Mum, Dr. Cavendish.

"Hi Doctor Cavendish, It's Sabine. Is Jenny around?"

"Yes, dear. I assume you want to meet up?"

"Yes, Doctor Cavendish."

"She said she wants to go to the park. I think that would be wonderful. Don't you?"

"Yes, Doctor Cavendish." This is our routine. It always takes a bit of small talk with the anthropology professor before she'll call Jenny to the phone.

"Brilliant! I'll put Jenny on, so you can figure out the specifics."

I wait a few moments.

"Sabine?" Jenny's voice is tentative.

"Jenny! How are you?"

"Oh. I'm doing alright. You know how it is." Now her voice is flat. Dull. Something is wrong.

"You okay, Jenny?" I let as much concern as possible flow through the tinny phone audio.

"I'm okay. Did you want to do something today?"

"I was wondering if you and everyone else wanted to just hang out around town, you know, like we always do."

"Okay. I'll round them all up."

I smile at Mummy, say goodbye, and hang the handset back on its rack. I run upstairs. It's a perfect summer day-sunny, just a little cool, and a slight easterly breeze. So I grab my boots-not rain or hiking boots, just fancy ones, with a bit of a heel, put in my earrings, just two tiny obsidian studs, and slide back down the railing to the stairs.

Mummy glares at me, and I stick my tongue out back at her. She laughs. "How am I ever going to get you to be careful," she admonishes.

"You will never succeed!" I say, stumbling a bit on the heels of the boots as I reach the bottom. "I will always be silly and bouncy and reckless!"

"Well, you definitely are my daughter. Be back by six for dinner!" It's our routine. She tells me to be safe, and I just do what I want anyways. Since I listen when she tells me to do important things, she doesn't ever really get mad, and we just have this friendly banter every few hours.

I skip towards her-a feat in heels-and wrap her in a great big bear hug. "Of course, Mummy." Then I spin around, grab my purse off the counter, and strut right on out of the house.

When I reach the door, I giggle, ruining the effect.

I reach the town square only seconds before the whole gang does. Jenny leads the pack, and the boys are just a few steps behind. She looks a little shaken up. Dennis and Ned are in fine spirits however, laughing about something inane, probably.

"What is so funny, Ned!" I bounce over them. "You must tell me, for I am in need of a good laugh!"

I wrap my arm around Jenny as I reach her, spinning her to face the boys and squeezing her against me.

"How the heck are you so mobile in those, Sabine," Dennis asks. "Emma can barely walk in heels, and here you are, running and skipping all over the place! You aren't fair, you know."

"That's why you let me play on your football teams, you know!"

"It is indeed. And we are happy to have you."

"Well," I say. "That's actually kinda why, I decided to get you all over here today. "You see, I got in to this boarding school in Scotland, and it's a really good school. My mum pushed hard for me to go there all summer-since she went there as a kid. And I finally said I would."

"So you're abandoning us!" Ned actually looks sad.

"Sadly. It's a really great school, and they have a lot of things that I'm interested in there, so besides you guys, it really wasn't even a choice. But I'll be back for the holidays and I'll make sure to spend time with you all then!"

"Obviously!" Jenny squirms out of my squeeze, turns to face me, and gives me a big hug. Not two seconds later, the boys join in, embracing us from either side.

"We're gonna miss you!"

"Now lets enjoy the time we have left. Lets see how long it takes for us to get kicked out of Robinson!"

As we walk to the college grounds, I let the boys get in front of Jenny and me. "Tell me what's up."

"Nothing 'is up',"

"Yeah, right. You were trembling while walking down here for no reason at all then."

Jenny glares at me. "Really, I'm fine."

I stare right back, matching her with intensity and concern.

"Okay! Da hit me again." She pulls her her sleeve up, revealing the edge of an ugly bruise on her shoulder.

"That's not at all okay! Please tell me you intend to tell someone."

"No one is going to believe me." She shrinks into herself. Already a small person, this makes her look positively tiny.

"NO! Anyone you tell, anyone you show that to, will believe you. And they will help you."

She still doesn't come to normal.

"Okay," I say. "Tell you what. You are coming to dinner with me, and you will show my Dad, and he will make sure that the right people know. You can even sleep over for a while."

"Don't you need permission from your parents?"

"Yeah, but if they see what you showed me, then they will practically beg you to stay with us."

"Okay."

I hug her tight to me, careful not to actually squeeze the bruised area.

I grab her hand, squeezing it and pull her along as I try to catch up with Ned and Dennis. "How about we just go to the Steel Tree?"

"Sure." Dennis looks at my hand, still holding Jenny's tightly, then he turns towards the park.

Steel Tree is a tree in a park near city centre that grew up right through a statue of Nelson, brandishing his sword. For some reason, no one ever bothered to cut it down, right up until the tip of the sword was swallowed by a tree branch. Once that happened, it became a landmark and students protested any attempt to get rid of it.

It is a great gathering spot for both kids like us and the university students down the road.

"Of course you can stay with us for a while, Jenny," Dad says. "It'll be no trouble at all. I'm going to call up one of my friends at Churchill College. He has a few contacts that can give us advice on how to deal with what your father did to you. But don't worry about that right now.

"For now, all you need to think about is that no one will hurt you while you are here, and that are with people who believe you and care about you."

Jenny hugs my dad. Then she starts eating. Mummy made an excellent supper of roast mutton and vegetables. She inhales the whole plate almost before we even can get started.

"Woah, Jenny," I say, "Don't go quite so fast. There's plenty and you'll only make yourself sick at this rate."

"You can have as much as you want," says Dad.

She looks up at us. Looks back down at her plate. Then her face contorts and her hands fly up to her mouth. Mummy points to the restroom. "That way, dear."

She sprints into the loo. We all look at each other, confused.

We start eating again, having nothing else to do in her absence.

"Mummy," I ask. "How is our shopping trip going to work?"

"Tomorrow, when your dad and his professor friends try to help Jenny work through what happened and decide how to deal with it, we can sneak away and go to Diagon Alley."

Dad nods. "I wasn't ever going to go there. Your mum needs to keep up a pretense of respecting the Statute of Secrecy and all."

"OK. As long as you have a plan." I laugh.

After a little while, Jenny comes back, looking wan and more than a little pale. She puts a bit more food on her plate, eating much more slowly this time.

We talk about nothing of import as the meal concludes, mostly just enjoying the food.

"It's movie night for us," My dad says, once we've finished. "Do you have anything you want to watch? We have a bunch of video cassettes, so we probably will have anything you mention."

"A long time ago, I watched that Star War thing, I think it was called. The movie with the swords made of light and stuff?"

"That's a favorite over here. Sabine, would you get A New Hope ready for us? I'll make popcorn."

I hop to the task, immediately plucking the tape from its proper location in our immaculately organized movie shelf-the only truly neat location in the cluttered house. I put in the VCR, and turn on the television. Of course, the show is still halfway through the credits. "Someone forgot to rewind it again!" I glare at Mummy-Star Wars was the first movie she saw after graduating from Hogwarts and her first date with Dad after all, so she is always watching it, even more than me.

"Sorry!"

I hit the rewind button, and turn off the screen again, hearing the high whine of the cathode rays zip from existence. "A long time ago, and in a galaxy far, far away, they have video tapes that you don't have to rewind!"

"In your dreams, kid."

I wheel around to see Mummy standing right behind me, holding far more popcorn than she had time to make, the handle of her wand barely sticking out of the neck of her shirt.

I walk by her, whispering into her ear, "You have a bit of a warlock malfunction."

She musses my hair with her free hand, before hiding the magical item deeper in her clothes. "Twit," she hisses back.

I stick out my tongue at her.

"Okay," Dad says, a great big bowl of even more popcorn clutched in his arms. "Let's get this party started. Get over here, kiddo."

He pulls me into a hug, and sits down on our enormous couch, bringing him down with me. I steal a handful of popcorn.

Then the movie starts, and we are all rapturous.

I slept on the floor, giving Jenny the bed. So when I awake in the morning, everything is sore, like I had just exercised the previous day. Sitting up-groaning-I look over at her sleeping figure. She looks so peaceful, nothing about the tiny sleeping girl betraying what happened yesterday. Knowing that our plan's success success relied on my leaving long before Jenny awoke on her own, I quickly get dressed, a thin leather jacket going over a light tee and jeans.

I tiptoe out of the room, making sure to close the door without waking Jenny, and slide down the banister to the first floor. I can't help myself.

"Sabine!" Mummy admonishes me, but as she can only whisper it, it's more comical than anything.

"Let's go!" My grin is wide as I practically skip towards the door.

"We aren't taking muggle transport to Diagon Alley. You get to see one way that witches and wizards get around today."

"So we're going to fly on brooms?"

"No, silly!" She shakes her head, but the grin spreading across her angular features and the sparkle in her eyes tells me that she got the joke. "We're going to take the Floo Network. It's a thing where we can go from our fireplace to any approved fireplace in the wizarding community."

Mummy pours a pinch of sooty powder into my hands. "Now stand in the fireplace, drop the powder and say 'The Leaky Cauldron'. Be sure to enunciate, Pet. Otherwise you might not end up in the right place."

"OK."

I step into our fireplace. Until now, I didn't even now why we had it. We never light actual fires.

I drop the powder. Green flames lick their way up around me. "The Leaky Cauldron!"

Spinning, Spinning. Pulled from behind. I feel like I'm being squeezed through a pipe, elongating as I get pushed through. Suddenly, still spinning, the scenery changes drastically. I fall out of a fireplace onto the floor of what looks like a traditional inn. A couple of people are sitting at tables arranged around the center of the big room, while still more are sitting at a bar, drinking, conversing, and being merry. No one is the least perturbed by my sudden appearance.

Mummy is suddenly spinning around in the fireplace. She comes to a stop, steps out, and wraps her arms around me. "How'd it go, pet?"

"I don't like it. Now I'm dizzy."

Mummy chuckles. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't wanna," I mumble under my breath, hoping she didn't hear it.

"Come on, we need to get you your wand."

She hurries me through the inn, bringing me to the back door to an alleyway in the back. However, when the door opens, all I see is a brick wall. She looks down at me. "Welcome to Diagon Alley," she laughs.

Tapping a brick with her wand, the wall vanishes showing a wide boulevard with shops lining the sides for at least a mile in each direction.

"Oh, do pick your jaw off of the ground, miss," Mummy chides.

I snap my mouth shut. "So this whole-" I look around, seeing hundreds of apartments over the storefronts. "-city is just hidden in the middle of LONDON!"

"Yeah. Magic is so cool."

I roll my eyes at her. "So where is this wand shop?"

"It's Olivander's and it's the workshop of one of the two most celebrated wandmakers in history!"

"And how do we get there, Mummy!?"

"This way."

I grab her hand and she leads me down the crowded streets, teeming with all sorts of people. Some are dressed in robes, like the ones that Dad to Formal Hall and all sorts of University Events. They tend to go into the fancier-looking establishments. Some dress like something out of every historical era-one girl walks by in the most beautiful nineteenth century gown, while a guy was literally covered in chainmail. Still others were dressed similarly to us, almost looking out of place.

"What's with the dress code? It's almost like we're at one of those American Renaissance Faires."

"Some of the oldest wizarding families tend to dress in the style of the era when they rose to prominence. That girl's dress was actually made in 1792."

I look at her, agape.

Mummy pulls me into a dark shop. The facade contained the label: "Olivander's: Fine Wandmakers since 302 BC"

"He can't have been making wands for two thousand years!" I whisper.

"No, pet, but wandmaking has always been in the Olivander family. He really is one of the best even if he's a bit... odd."

I don't have time to contemplate her phrasing before a man pops out from behind one of the dozens of towering shelves of little boxes. "Oh! Ms Keller," He says to Mummy. "And you've brought a young one again."

"This time, she's my daughter, not a muggleborn I'm introducing to the world of magic. I don't get Hogwarts duty this year, since I have to help her."

"Righto. Now, let me see here." He stares down his glasses at me. His grey eyes feeling like they can see right into my very soul. "I remember when your mother came here, eleven years ago. I remember every wand I've ever sold."

I give him a look. He can't possibly remember every wand. That must have been tens of thousands of wands. "Let's see what we can find for you, young lady."

He disappears for a moment, returning with a small stack of boxes. Their velvet exteriors remind me of the cases people sell fancy jewelry in.

He opens the first box, revealing a slender stick of polished oak. "The wand chooses the witch, you know."

He hands it to me, handle first.

I hold it, standing awkwardly.

"Well, give it a wave!"

Mummy gives me a nod. I waggle my hand up and down, feeling ridiculous. Nothing happens.

"Ah well. I didn't think so anyways." He takes the wand back from me, and hands me a much shorter wand. "Mahogany and phoenix feather," he says. Mummy gasps before she can catch herself.

I wave it. One of the boxes still on its shelf-far down the isle-comes flying.

He yanks it out of my hand immediately. "Sorry," I mumble.

"No matter. Now this one. Elm and unicorn hair."

As soon as I hold it, I know its wrong. I shake my hand.

"Now Acacia and dragon heartstring."

"Acacia?"

"An unusual choice for wood, but it is for the subtle magic users. Your mother's current wand is made from it."

"Current?"

"Well, I've had a bit of bad luck in keeping my wands intact. Sorry, Mr. Olivander."

"It just means we haven't found the right one for you, Ms Keller."

I wave the acacia wand around. Sparks fly out the end. Olivander looks hopeful. But I shake my head. "No, I don't think so."

"I think I know what it needs to be. One moment." He disappears into the stacks again.

He comes back with two more wands. "It's one of these," he says, confidently.

Oh, how I want to prove him wrong. Mummy sees my expression and snickers.

"10 inches, applewood, and unicorn hair. Slightly springy."

Nothing about that introduction really appeals to me. I take the wand. And then drop it right on the floor. I take a step back, shivering.

"Bother! Now this one." Mr Olivander doesn't even bother to pick the wand up.

"Maple and unicorn hair. Thirteen inches. Very bendy." He turns the tip at a right angle to the handle, to prove his point.

I wave it, the tip seeming sluggish behind my movements. Nothing happens. I hand the wand back.

"Oh. Alright. I have a few of you people every year. Those who defy easy matching."

He waves his wand, and four new boxes come out. He snatches one out of the air. Opening the box, he announces, "Cedar and acromantula hair." Mummy shudders. "Fourteen inches. Unyielding."

Mummy chuckles. I glare at her, taking the wand. "It's much closer. But I don't think so."

"Hm. I almost never do laminated wands. But I think I must. I only have a few, but it is probably necessary."

He summons a different box from the back room. It's far wider than the others.

He opens it to reveal three wands. "Each of these are made with feathers from the same thestral." He points to the leftmost. "This wand is a laminate of blackthorn and yew." He moves to the middle, "This is of black walnut and cherry. And this final wand," he points to the final, longest wand. "Is made from cedar and hawthorn."

I'm so gravitated to the last one that it is a great effort for me not to immediately grab it and clutch it tight to my chest.

But before I can try one of them. Olivander slams the box shut.

A small group of people enter the wandshop behind us. I spin on my heels.

Two women Mummy's age walk through the door, bringing with them a young boy and girl my age.

"Olivander!" One of them exlaims. "It's so nice to see you."

"Yes, indeed, the Misses Lewis. I assume it's time for these little children to receive their wands."

"Oh, yes!" The boy-who was several inches shorter than me-responds.

Olivander opens one of the boxes that he had brought out for me, but never let me try the wand contained within. He hands the wand to the boy. "Give it a wave," He says, kindly.

He waves the wand-in my general direction. The lantern hanging from the wall behind me explodes.

I duck. "Oi!"

Olivander takes the wand back. Next he hands a wand to the girl. "Redwood and Phoenix Feather, twelve and a quarter inches. Reasonably pliant."

Olivander is excited as he hands over the slender piece. She waves it, and a neat red ribbon ties itself in a knot behind the tip of the wand.

"Ooh!" I breathe.

"The wand chooses the witch, my dear," Olivander says. "And this wand has chosen you."

Olivander returns to Mummy and me, a slight twinkle in his eye. "I always enjoy getting it right on the first try."

"Sorry," I say, worried I'm disappointing him by being difficult to match with a wand.

"It's perfectly alright my dear. The challenge provided by people like you is an altogether different kind of joy!" He gives me a little grin. "Have you decided which one you'd like to try first."

I nod with enthusiasm. I can't wait to pick the one that drew me in. "Yes. The cedar and hawthorn one."

"Of course, my dear." He opens the box with the laminate wands. He pulls it out, the red cedar intertwining with the lighter hawthorn.

"It's amazing," I whisper.

"It is, indeed. Some of my best work, if I may be immodest. 13 and an eighth inches, and sturdy, but very willing to bend."

As soon as I wrap my hand around the wand's handle I knew I needed no other. I wave it once. A thin streak of golden fire follows the tip, warming the room slightly. I giggle.

"Well, I think we've done it. If you'll wait for me to find the boy his wand, I think we can do the actual purchasing all together then."

Mummy nods, and I turn to the boy. He get handed a new wand. "Eight inches, yew and unicorn hair."

I see a box fly off the shelf.

Soon Olivander and the boy settle on a seven and a half inch Red Oak wand with a dragon heartstring core. It's priced at six gold galleons and five silver sickles. Then the girl's wand, 13 inches of redwood and phoenix feather, 12 galleons and a single sickle.

Then my mother hands Mr Olivander a small pouch heavy with coins. He hefts it. Then he counts out four galleons and hands them back.

"How much money did you give 'im, Mummy," I whisper, shocked.

Mummy leads me from the shop. I'm still clutching the wand. I never want to let it go. "A lot, pet," she tells me. "But it was worth every knut." She musses my hair again.

I hug her back. Then something catches my eye. Egger's Emporiumm of Magical Creatures. I can't pull my gaze away. Everything there is just. So cute. I wander over, straying from Mummy.

I watch two billywigs-or so they are named on the cage-fly about each other, in a seeming battle. The sapphire insects are mesmerizing.

"Sabine!"

"Sorry, Mummy," I say, scampering back. "Those creatures are so pretty! I've never seen anything like them!"

"You'll get your fill soon enough, pet."

A/N: This story is also published on AO3, where there is more formatting and styles and I will be more active. Please read, review, etc. And find my tumblr blog .com!

The purpose of this story is really to explore the effects of the war with Voldemort for everyone who is not one of the olden Trio. Because their lives aren't the only ones to get torn to shreds by the war and, quite frankly, Rowling doesn't do enough to address that. So I will. We're starting in Harry's second year, the main OC, Sabine's, first one. And we are going to rush through the first several years to get to the meat of my story, which will be from Voldy's return to well after his defeat, where we explore the aftermath! So get ready for a long ride!