Prologue

CRASH!

I rose to my feet in humiliation, not needing to look around me to know that every face in the store was turned in my direction. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I brushed the dust off of my skirt.

A dumpy little woman wearing olive green robes bustled over from behind the counter and began babbling angrily at me. I involuntarily took a step back, and she brandished a finger in my face.

"I'm sorry!" I squeaked, raising my hands in surrender. "I didn't mean to! Nothing's even broken, I'm sorry!"

She continued to spew words at me, and I wondered why in the world I had thought it would be a good idea to go shopping in France. Considering, you know, I definitely didn't speak French.

When she pulled her wand from somewhere among the folds of her robes and waved it at me as well, I did what any normal eleven-year-old would do.

I ran.

I fled from the shop and into the streets, dodging people left and right, apologizing frantically to anyone who didn't move out of my way quickly enough. I turned a corner and leaned against the wall of the shop I had just passed. My breath was coming in short gasps, and I laughed to myself. Who knew shopping could be so exhausting?

All I was trying to do was avoid gaining too much attention for being a Brit, and what do I do? I go and knock over an entire blasted shelf of big iron cauldrons! In retrospect, I was glad it was cauldrons and not something fragile, like potion ingredients (neither of which happened to be the reason I had entered the shop), which would have made a real mess, and probably blown up the entire place.

When the shouting died down a while later I trudged back down the street to the little café that served as the entrance to the alley. I hadn't completed my mission for the day, but after the scene I'd created, I wanted nothing more than to be back at home, where everything was normal and the people spoke English. As I walked, I was too frustrated with myself to even admire the old-time elegance of the storefronts I was passing.

I was still getting funny looks as I stepped up to the fireplace in the back corner. What, did the French not use the Floo network, either? Merlin, the people there were weird.

Taking a handful of gritty powder from the dish on the mantle, I tossed it into the flickering flames and said, "Lighthouse Cottage!" The fire rose in a green swirl before me and I prepared myself for the violent dizziness before I closed my eyes and stepped into it.

When I walked, coughing, out of the fireplace at home, I paused momentarily to wipe the ash off of my clothes. My previously white shirt was now mottled in shades of grey.

Okay, so maybe people in France weren't so crazy if they didn't travel by Floo. Although I think they actually do….

Grinning, I decided that before I ever went back to shop in France, I would have to learn the native language

"Selena? Is that you?" my aunt called from the kitchen. "Where on earth have you been, girl?"

"Erm…." I had counted on my aunt being at work while I was away; unfortunately, I had forgotten that our family apothecary was closed on Wednesdays. "France," I called back.

"France?" she asked, startled, sweeping into the room. "What in Merlin's name were you doing there?"

"Shopping," I said meekly.

She rolled her eyes. After three years of living with me, she had gotten used to my adventurous spirit, but that didn't mean she understood or liked it. "Yes, well, you at least could have left a note. Anyway, the mail came this morning with a letter for you."

I perked up immediately; I never got mail.

"It's on the kitchen table, but –"

I never heard what she was going to say, because I was already in the kitchen ripping open a thick envelope that was addressed to me in bright green ink.

I only ever read the first line of the letter; after that I was too excited to do anything but grin like a fool.

"YES!" I shouted. "Aunt Ivy, Aunt Ivy, guess what!"

"What is it?" she asked, watching me from the doorway to the kitchen.

"I got into Hogwarts!"

"I never doubted you would, dear," she said wearily. I had been bothering her and Uncle Ben for weeks about when my letter would come. Both of them had gone, and so had my mother. So had my father, come to think of it, but we didn't really talk about him. Ever.

I started dancing a little jig around the table. "I got into Hogwarts, I got into Hogwarts, I got int –"

The family owl, Sunshine (I named him at age five when my mum gave him to Aunt Ivy for her birthday), gave a reproachful hoot, and I glowered at him.

"Oh, shut up, Sunny," I snapped. "You'd be excited, too, if it was you that got in." Which of course was ridiculous, as owls can't be wizards and therefore can't be accepted into Hogwarts.

I continued my hopping dance down the hall and upstairs to my room. I was going to Hogwarts!

A/N:

Well, here's my first chapter, and I have the rest of them planned out for Book One, so they shouldn't be too far behind, assuming all goes according to plan.

Until next chapter,

~Sno