Disclaimer: I, in absolutely no way, own Harry Potter characters, creatures, locations, situations, or anything else relating to the Harry Potter stories. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own Myra Selby and her mother, and anyone else mentioned in Myra's life. Those are all creations of my mind.

A/N: Okay, this is my first fic idea that I never managed to put into words, and then it just came to me suddenly. To further explain the story a little better, Myra Selby is a normal girl from the time the first Harry Potter book was released in the U.S. Her mother reads it to her one night, and suddenly she is transported to another realm where she is English and Harry Potter is a real person. She turns out to be a wizard, and goes to Hogwarts. She's in the same year as Harry, and she becomes the fourth member to the trio, and goes on the same adventures as them. But, she is also still in the other realm as well, and everytime she goes to Harry's world, she is sleeping in her world. She goes to Hogwarts every night of the school year for seven years, and has to eventually choose between her world or Harry's world.

A/N: The time travelling plot is somewhat like the time travel in the Stravaganza series, if anyone's heard of those. This isn't necessarily considered a crossover, because none of the Stravaganza characters are involved in the plotline. Myra is, in a way, a stravagater, but that's not what they're called in my story. I call them realm dwellers, a type of extremely rare wizard who has two of the same body, one born in one realm and one born in the other. One or both of the bodies has to have magical blood, or they are not considered realm dwellers. One body may survive for years on it's own spirit, but when the spirit of one of the realm dweller's bodies travels to the other, the other spirit ceases to exist, and both bodies share the spirt. Myra's realms have switched times, so when it's light in her world, it's night in Harry's. She merely sleeps in one world, and is awake in the next one. I'm only explaining this because it may be a little confusing for some people throughout the story unless I explain it...

September 15th, 1998

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived," whispered Wendy J. Selby, snuggling closer to her little girl. She enjoyed reading to her daughter, still a little new to the mothering of such a smart 11-year-old, she was at least happy she could make her child smile with words. Wendy's friend had suggested Harry Potter to her. She said it was a new book about a boy wizard, who was about the same age as Wendy's daughter. She said her children were loving it, and Wendy should try it on her little girl.

Myra Selby settled into her bed a little more. She saw the room swim about her, her vision becoming impaired as sleep took over her. Her eyes shut slowly, and she distantly felt her mother kiss her head and shut out the lights. As the door to her bedroom slid shut, Myra's imagination began to come up with an extraordinary dream. A dream that she would never forget as long as she lived…

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September 1st, 1991

Myra was in her apartment. Well, not exactly, anyway. She looked about the room her dream had taken her to, and it looked a lot like her room at home. Except it was so different. The shape was off, and the size was larger than her tiny room in Apartment 3F in Chicago. The style was completely the same, though.

The clock on her bedside table was going off, and she fell off the bed as stars erupted from it. She watched it explode, totally in awe.

"It's like… magic," she whispered to herself. As she stood, walking towards the window that had never been there before, and found herself tripping over a suitcase. She examined it, not fully understanding what was going on. Suddenly, a voice called from somewhere in the apartment.

"Myra, time to wake up or your going to miss your train!" Myra heard her mother call. Myra got up and ran towards it, glad to finally hear something she recognized. She found her in the kitchen, and immediately wrapped her arms around her. Her mother hugged her back, a little confused.

"Hi, sweetie," she said, burying her face in her daughter's hair. "You're already up, good. So, are you excited for today?"

"What? What's going on, Mommy? I don't get what's happening," Myra said. She was scared, and had no idea what to do.

"Oh, you can't have forgotten already, can you?" Her mother smiled down at her lovingly. "You never were a morning person. Honey," she got down on her knees and looked directly at her daughter, "today you're going on the train to your new school. You're going to love it. Your father did."

Myra gasped. Her mother never talked about her father, ever. Myra knew that nothing was right, and started to back off. She ran back to her room, her mother calling after her. Locking the door behind her, Myra ran to the mirror.

Okay, she thought, staring at herself. I still look the same. Same curly red/brown hair, same chocolate brown and gold eyes, same freckles and pale skin. I'm still me. Then why is everything else different?

"Myra?" Her mother rapped on the door. "Myra, are you okay? Whether you want to or not, honey, you have to go today, okay? This is what you're meant to do. I'll have a breakfast sandwich waiting for you in the car, okay? But, get dressed, finish packing, brush your teeth and come out to the car, alright?"

Myra rose her head, realizing something. Her mother didn't sound the same.

Her mother's accent was English. She had sounded like that when she had been reading to her before she went to sleep. Then, in her head, she realized her inner thoughts were English as well.

She raced to the window, and saw the most wonderful view. Big Ben was right in front of her bedroom window.

She was in England. She lived in England. She was English.

She ran to the calendar hanging on her wall. She flipped to the front page. It was a calendar for the 1991-1992 year. Her dream took her back seven years? She should be four years old, shouldn't she? Wait, this was a dream. She was whatever the heck she wanted to be!

She turned back to the page the calendar was open to, and saw that it was the September page. It was untouched except for the first square. Today was September the first, then. On the square, in huge lettering, read the words "First day at Hogwarts!"

Myra's eyes grew wide.

Maybe this dream wasn't so bad after all.