I will admit that I was never the most ordinary of children. While kids my age were out and about, screaming and yelling, playing sports and all that good stuff, I was inside my room, playing with my dolls and making up stories. I delighted in the magical and the mystical, and when I learned to read I lost myself in fantasy books. I've always been totally addicted to the Harry Potter series. People say I'm obsessed. Hehe, I agree. I love those books more than anything. I can't really decide why though. Something about them just seems so familiar.. So totally right.

I always felt that I never really belonged with the rest of the kids in my age group; there was just something, well, different about me. And lately, some pretty strange things have been happening......

"I had the dream again last night!" I said bemusedly to my friend Mia as we walked down 3rd Avenue. She adjusted her glasses and looked at me appraisingly for a bit, then took a sip of her smoothie.

"You shouldn't think much of it, Chandler. It's just a dream!" We stopped to take a seat at a table outside of Starbucks. Ever studious, Mia pulled out a history book from her messenger bag and perused it silently. Mia and I hadn't known each other for long. We just happened to hit it off in our 3rd period English class and formed a friendship. We're almost like night and day, though we do share some similarities. She's terribly academic, and loves facts and books and all that goes with it. She doesn't approve of my love for fiction novels and always chides me when we go to the library and I check out almost the entire fantasy section, while she in turn checks out the entire law section.

I stared up into the clear August sky feeling oddly apprehensive, not as one should feel on a bright summer day. In two weeks I would be starting High School, and I couldn't help but dread the impending arrival of a new school year. Not that I hated school or anything, I just liked vacation a lot. Nor was I afraid to start school, seeing as I'm not anti-social. I was just tired of the monotony of it all, the same subjects and routine year after year. I sighed, got up, grabbed my and started to walk into the nearest bookstore. It took a while for Mia to realize that I was gone, but when she did, I was rewarded with a light smack on the head with her history book.

"I hate it when you do that. I swear, it's almost like you're in a trance or something." She smiled slightly, but frowned as I ignored her and began to wander around the Barnes and Noble we were in. The atmosphere outside perfectly mirrored the one inside the store: hot, stuffy, and full of people. I weaved in and out of the crowds, idly picking up books and setting them back down again. "Tell me about your dream, Chandler. What is it about this one that gets you so antsy?"

"I don't know! I just feel like I've actually been there, Mia. Like I've walked the halls and been in the classrooms and played... And played Quidditch."

Mia groaned good-naturedly and sat me down at a little kids table. "It's not real, Chandler. You've got to realize that! You're too old to be believing in magic and Harry Potter and all that stuff. It's simply not practical." she said slowly, quite condescendingly. I stood up indignantly, scattering popup books everywhere and shocking the surrounding toddlers and their parents.

"Don't you think I know that?!" I stalked away, muttering dejectedly. "I know it doesn't... No.... I can't help it. I've had those dreams for years now, Mia. I was dreaming of Quidditch long before I even knew what it was." I was whispering now, as was she. She was hissing that I was making a scene and embarrassing her, but I didn't care. I didn't care that I couldn't actually be there at Hogwarts, couldn't do magic, that the things and characters weren't solid and real. She never looked past the mundane, Mia. She needed everything to be tangible, supported with facts. It was just like her to not understand how much I loved the story.

In my furious and blind huff towards the back of the store, I suddenly hit something very solid head on, and toppled over backwards with a shriek, taking Mia and the bookcase behind with me. Thoroughly embarrassed, I pushed away fallen books to peer around. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you alright?" As I reached out a hand to help the one I collided with up, I found myself staring down at a most peculiar looking man in a bright Hawaiian shirt. He had pale skin, and faintly greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a smirk plastered on his face.

"That's quite alright, Miss Garbell. I understand completely. You didn't look like you cared to know where you were going, so it doesn't really matter." He had a strong British accent, and took my hand and hoisted himself up. He straightened his oddly colored outfit, and then said, "I have been hoping to meet you, Miss Garbell. I have a matter to discuss with you of the utmost importance! Will you please come with me?"

I stared at him dumbfounded. What could this odd man possibly want with me? I felt a tug on my shirt, and turned my head to see Mia attempting to drag me away. Irritated, I slapped her hand and turned back to face the stranger. "Really, Chandler, it's not polite to stare at someone with your mouth hanging open like that. I shall not harm you. If your friend has any doubts about that, she may accompany you to ensure that I keep my word." Mia sputtered incoherently, and I gazed suspiciously into the man's eyes.

"Who are you? I have the strangest feeling that we..." I stepped closer to look into his eyes. "know each other from somewhere..." He blanched slightly, then his eyes got noticeably colder and his expression hooded.

"My name is not important, at least not right now. We do know each other, I will tell you that much. Now please, come with me. People are starting to stare." And indeed they were. I glanced around and saw a number of curious spectators staring at us interestedly.

"Alright. Let's go."