Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Okay? So There.

Meg wasn't from around here. It was easy to pick her out from a crowd. She had a Green Day tour tee shirt on and a pair of ripped jeans. No one else was wearing casual clothes such as these. They were in robes and some even in pointy hats. Meg had never been to Europe before, and concluded that their fashions were completely insane.

Her grandfather ordered her a glass of water as he waited for the arrival of a friend of his. She didn't mind--being in a pub was so cool! She had been visiting her grandpa from the United States, and she enjoyed the new experiences.

"What's this man look like, Gramps?" Meg asked.

"Believe me, you'll see him." He chuckled back. That was when this huge man comes in through a back door. His face was mostly hidden by his big, bushy beard, but she could see his eyes, which didn't much suit him. They were twinkling.

The man's name was Hagrid.

And, after hearing their conversation, Meg found herself with a disturbing fact. Apparently her grandpa had been a powerful wizard back in the day, and he and Hagrid were old school buddies. Meg thought they were kidding. Come on, magic? Wizardry? Witchcraft? What nonsense!

"Hagrid, my friend, this is my granddaughter Meghan, from America."

Meg shook his hands, which consumed her own. Gigantic...

"Ah, wha' school do 'yer go 'ter, then?"

Meg ruffled her brow. "School?"

"Oh, Hagrid. Meg is a Muggle."

Hagrid froze and went pale. The color drained from his rosy cheeks. "They're not supposed to know!" he said. "This is bad!"

"A Muggle?" she asked.

"Non-magic folk. Aren't suppose to know we exist."

"But she does! If some'n found out..."

"But no one is going to! Hagrid, old friend, Meg is my last chance. She is perfect for the plan I was telling you about."

"You're daft, you are!" His harsh voice said.

Meg's presence had the man on his toes. Plan? What plan? Was her grandfather going mad in his old age? But her grandpa insisted it was true, and when they went home he even showed her his wand and his owl, and his copies of the newspaper that magic-folk read, the Daily Prophet. Her grandpa explained all about magic and she only half-listened. This was such idiocy. But then he pulled out a wand, and Meg was amazed at the things he could do. He made chairs fly and things clean themselves. After questions he told Meg that he rarely used magic now. And it left Meg wondered if she had some magic running through her blood. Meg had it with debating herself. She wanted more--more information, more magic. That's when she decided she would finally go to this mysterious Diagon Alley that her grandpa said Hagrid was always off to. But first, she tried to memorize how that gigantic man pressed in those bricks…

A/N: A little short, sorry. But it's a rewrite--bare with me here!