A/N: This story takes place 19 years after the demise of Lord Voldemort. I know it sounds like a Sparklypoo Mary-Sue at first, but if you make it through the first half of the page, you will be handsomely rewarded (with a non-Sparklypoo-type fanfic). I also apologize for the "transfer-student-from-America" deal, but I know American culture a lot better than British culture, so it's easier. Please read!

I put my gorgeous brunette hair into a ponytail, watching as my shimmering curls cascaded down my neck. My tanned skin was flawless and my deep blue eyes were entrancing. A touch of ruby gloss adorned my lip and sapphires the same color as my eyes dangled from my earlobes. I was only eleven, but my mother assured me I was mature enough for makeup. I spun around in my beautiful blue designer dress made especially for me, waiting for my perfectly cute, perfectly romantic date Josh to pick me up.

"Why, Lianne," Stacey had gushed when she invited me last week. Stacey is my fellow co-captain of the cheerleading squad, and one of the most popular girls in school—second only to me. "It wouldn't be a party without you!"

"Oh, don't worry, Stacey," I reassured her in my sophisticated British accent, "I'll be there."

Everything was going great. I had gone to Hawaii and Switzerland over the summer, and my mother let me go on a huge shopping spree celebrate the end of the summer. I practically cleaned out Juicy Couture. I went to cheer camp and got elected "Cheer Camp Queen". And now, Stacey's Back-to-School Dance was going to go amazingly. I grabbed my best Coach bag and walked out the door.

Now, in the name of being accurate, I must clarify one tiny detail: everything you've just read is a lie. This is how my evening really went.

I tried to force my dull mousey brown hair into a ponytail, but my anti-frizz serum didn't help at all, and it kept flying out in all different directions. I finally gave up and let it hang down like the wig made for some Hollywood monster. I scrutinized my too-pale face, cursing the humongous zit that had popped up right between my two boring blue eyes. I put on the blue dress my mother bought just for the occasion—at the Bargain Barn. I put a bandana—most dorky of all hair accessories—as a headband, to try to cover my zit and help tame my hair. I looked like a joke. Stacey would be thrilled.

"Why, of course you're invited, Janet"—of course, Lianne is just my middle name, as much as I wish it were my real one instead of dorky Janet—"It wouldn't be a party without someone to mock, now would it? Please do come, that is, unless you're busy skateboarding. Or need to practice your magic tricks!" She burst into laughter, and walked away. As one can see, I'm hardly on the cheerleading squad in real life, no I am the epitome of dork; I used to skateboard and do magic tricks, back before I cared about what other people thought. I also didn't go to cheer camp over the summer, either. No, all I did was get horribly sunburned and gaze longingly at all the clothes I couldn't afford.

"Don't worry, Stacey," I said meekly, in my boring American accent. Even though I was born in England, my dad had us move here to the United States when I was a year old so he could join the American army like his father, who actually was born in America. We moved around a lot, finally settling down in New Jersey when a muscular disease finished my father's military career.

I sighed at plain old Janet in the mirror, longing to one day wake up and be Lianne, and have all my dreams come true. Janet was a dork, picked on by all and befriended by none. She wasn't pretty, popular, or charismatic, but Lianne could be everything I ever wanted to be. Lianne could be brave, and beautiful, and confident. Lianne could be the coolest person ever, just as much as Janet was the dorkiest. I sighed, and grabbed my secondhand purse that must have belonged to a teething two-year-old and walked out the door.

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I sat in the bathroom, trying not to cry anymore as I waited for Mom to pick me up. Of course Stacey noticed my huge zit, my frizz monster hair, and my bargain-brand dress. "Wow, Janet, what happened to you?" she asked, in mock concern, "Have your parents gotten so poor that they're using your hair for steel wool? That would explain why they made your dress out of a dish towel. And is that a tomato on your face? Because that's the biggest tomato I've ever seen." She laughed before turning around to make out with her boyfriend Josh. Everyone in her clique laughed at me, mocking me.

Stacey stopped kissing Josh and turned to me. "Oh, I'm sorry, Janet. I'm being a bad host. Do you want some dip?" She took the bowl and dumped it over my head. "Oops!" she cried, "I'm so sorry, Janet! Is there anything I can do for you? Here, tell you what. I'll give you a few dollars, so you can replace that dress and buy yourself a better house with the change!" She and friends convulsed into laughter, as I burst into tears and ran to some privacy.

I could feel the anger pulsing through my veins as I sat there, listening to everyone having fun. Stacey had made fun of me ever since first grade. I mean, she was pretty, rich, and already had a lot of friends. I was just the poor little new kid with a scholarship and no friends. I was an easy target. I tried to stand up for myself, but it got harder and harder until she could pick on me without any resistance at all. For the millionth time that night I wished I could be someone else, anyone other that me.

"Oh, I just wish this party was over!" I muttered to myself. It felt like I was a can of soda, being shaken up until I was about to explode. Suddenly the lights went out. I bolted upright. Moans of disappointment reached my ears. I looked in the party room to see people leaving. Something fell on the floor beside me. More blobs of dip joined it as they leapt out of my hair and off of my dress, leaving me spotless. I stared in amazement, but was distracted by a loud voice.

"Don't go!" Stacey cried desperately, trying to stop the onslaught of people headed for the door. "We'll fix the lights! Don't go, please!" In minutes, everyone had left. I thought that the only thing that would make this perfect would be if Stacey got a stain on her perfect white dress. No sooner had I this crossed my mind then the punch bowl just upended itself on her, staining the white silk red. I laughed out loud and smiled at this turn of events as I ran to my mom's car.

I was much less upbeat about the circumstances by the time I got my seatbelt buckled. I stared out the window at a cat sitting by the sidewalk, thinking about what had happened. I mean, it was conceivable that the lights blacking out just when I wanted them too was a coincidence, and perhaps Stacey accidentally bumped into the table causing the punch bowl to spill, and it was possible that something in my anti-frizz serum caused the dip to simply slide off. However, it wasn't very likely, and I had trouble convincing myself of this reasoning. I was reminded of the time when I was six years old, when I was sure that I had pulled a rabbit out of my hat for real. As I grew older, I was positive it had been my imagination, but now I wasn't quite so convinced. Something unusual seemed to be going on, and I was in the heart of the matter.