Prologue:

1989

"Hey look, Dud! There's your freaky little ginger cousin," Dudley's friend Malcolm says excitedly.

We are all nine years old but they have already become nightmares. Dudley is only hanging out with people that are bigger than him so people can't or even won't stand up for themselves against him. The kids at school are afraid to mess with him. I am one of them, but I promise myself once I get older, I won't. I will be strong — fearless. Right now, that just isn't the case.

"Let's go take the mickey out of her!" Dudley's other friend, Piers says, as they all begin to run towards me. I begin running when suddenly I feel like I am going to throw up. I am off balance and no longer where I was.

"Whoa!" I look around and see that I am on top of the school. I run to a door and down the service stairwell. I am back in the building on the first floor. School has already ended so I begin the walk back home. It isn't that far.

I get home just to have Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley waiting to pounce on me. I feel like a mouse just backed into a corner by a bunch of hungry tigers.

"Dudley told us a very interesting story about you today."

I look at him, panicked. I know what's coming.

"Dudley tells us that he saw you disappear…just like that," Uncle Vernon says as he snaps his fingers.

"I don't know what happened, I swear!" I plea, knowing it is of no use.

"First a teacher's suddenly hair turns blue, then you just miraculously pop out of existence and end up on the roof of the school…"

"All I remember is Dudley and his friends running towards me, then I ran away and the next thing…"

"Are you blaming my son?" he demands, face turning purple.

"No, I'm not blaming anyone. I just can't explain it."

"YOU ARE LYING!" he yells at me.

"I didn't know what I was doing. It wasn't on purpose!"

SMACK!

All I remember is my cheek burning as I start to run out the door, ignoring the yelling of my Uncle. I run towards the forest. Soon, though, the forest gives way to a meadow.

I wade through the grass and sit down among the blades of grass that are taller than me. I have a wildflower in my hand, and then all of a sudden it floats out of my hand and blows away in the slight breeze. I hear movement behind me. I turn and see two black blobs suddenly duck down but I saw them before they can fully hide themselves. I stand up. The wind is playing with my dark red hair, whipping it all around. It is a beautiful day, but not a good one. My cheek still burns.

"Hello? Who's there?" I ask. "I'm not blind, you know. Who are you?" I ask them, as the two boys come into view. They slowly walk up to me. They are clearly related. They both have the darkest brown hair I've seen, but one has dark brown eyes and the other has hazel.

"What happened to your face?" The older one asks me, the one with dark brown eyes.

"It's not important. You never did answer my question…who are you?" I ask them again.

"I'm Andrew. Andrew Stanton and this is my brother Michael. We live down the road."

"How come I haven't seen you at school?" I ask him.

"We're homeschooled."

"Oh. So why are you following me?"

"I'm sorry. I just — I don't know," he tells me.

Well, at least he's honest. But it's not good enough. "That's not an answer," I reply, crossing my arms.

"What really happened to your face?" he demands again.

"Andrew, leave it alone," his little brother interferes.

I just remain standing here with my arms crossed. "I don't want to talk about it," I say.

"It might make you feel better," he urges, trying to coax me into telling.

It's not going to work that easily. "I don't even know you," I tell him, looking the other way.

"But I know you. You're being raised by Muggles."

Muggles? What are muggles? "Muggles?" I ask aloud.

"Non-magic folk," Michael says, his hazel eyes glittering in the afternoon sun.

Magic? Magic is only in fairytales. "What? Magic doesn't exist," I say, shocked.

"Then how exactly did that flower float it into the sky?" Michael asks rhetorically.

The wind?

"You're a witch. Is that why your face is all — what'd you do?" Andrew asks me.

I sigh as I begin to explain what happen, "I just remember feeling this weird feeling in my stomach and ended up somewhere completely different."

Michael seems elated at this. "You apparated! You apparated and transfigured those flowers — that's highly advanced!" Michael says, excitedly. "I haven't done anything yet," he adds and suddenly looks solemn. "But Andrew can do stuff!" he says, perking back up.

"So how do you know about me?" I ask them. As the wind picks back up, blowing my hair around like crazy.

"Everyone knows about you. You're Shannon Potter. You're The Girl Who Lived."