A young American girls stands at the foot of a rocky mountain, camera in hand and headphones on her head.
*Click*
She snapped another picture.
*Click*
"Wow," the girl breathed to herself.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
She snapped a few more pictures of the crumbling castle.
*Click*
Something was nagging in the back of her mind, "What was it?" She thought to herself, taking off her headphones, "I know there is something I'm supposed to be doing, something, really, really, important," She snapped another picture.
*Click*
The young girl put her camera back in her bag. She climbed up the rocks, trying to get a closer look at the heap of rubble that had once been a magnificent castle.
Half and hour later, she was at the top of the small mountain, or big hill, whichever you prefer to call it. There was a magnificent lake by the rubble, and a "Do Not Enter, Dangerous Grounds" sign hanging on what once was a large doorway. The ruins were surrounded by many mountains, larger than the hill which they sat on.
She took another step, and almost tripped over a large stone. Her bag fell off her shoulder, and started hissing and fuming. She lifted it back up, and looked inside.
"What the…" She said aloud to herself. Her CD Player and camera were both hissing, and a slight mist was coming off of them. She opened up the back of her camera, and was quite surprised to see that the film was completely melted. She laid her bag down on a large, mossy stone, and continued walking, eager to explore the ruins.
As she walked onto the crumbling archway into the castle, the world around her started spinning. She caught a glimpse of an enormous castle, completely intact, and many children walking, carrying books, before she took a step back. The world returned to normal.
"What," she thought to herself, "Was that? I must be going crazy!" She took a step forward again, and once again, the castle, the mountains, and everything around her started spinning, and again, she saw children walking, a few looking curiously at her, all dressed in black robes. She carefully drew her foot back, and the world returned to usual. "Oh-my-gah, I think I am hallucinating". She stepped forward, only this time, she did not withdraw her foot.
For the third time, she saw a castle, with many people milling around it. "Hey," She thought to herself, "Some of those guys are my age!" She walked forward cautiously. Many of the people were staring at her, a disbelieving look printed on their faces, almost the same look she was giving them.
The bewildered girl then heard "Someone get Dumbledore, quick!" The voice belonged to a girl a few years younger than herself, about 11, with bushy brown hair, and large front teeth, two boys were sitting by her, one was tall with flaming red hair and freckles, while the other was skinny and had very untidy black hair.
"Ron!" The girl was speaking again, "Go get Dumbledore!" The boy with red hair stood up rather reluctantly, and, while still staring at the "newcomer", walked over to a stone gargoyle, pulled out a long, shiny stick, and tapped the statue. Right as he was about to climb in, someone else climbed out.
The man that appeared out of the statue was tall, thin, and very, very, old. Judging by his long silver hair and beard, he would have to be about 150 years old. "But that's impossible!" She thought to herself.
The girl with the brown hair stood up and quickly walked over to the old man. She whispered something, which the no one but the old man could've understood, because she thought she heard the word "Muggle". The bushy-haired girl was now pointing directly at the mysterious girl. The silver-haired man walked over to the girl. "Well hello there, I see you have come across our castle. It has been a long time since we have had any Muggle visitors," He said.
"There's that word again!" She thought to herself, she then said aloud, "What is this?"
"This," He replied, his arms outstretching to the castle and people around him, "Is Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" She repeated.
"Yes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said, a twinkle in his eye.
"Well then how come I couldn't see it before? Whoa, wait a minute, did you said witchcraft?" the girl asked, unbelievingly.
"And Wizardry," He added, "And I am the headmaster."
"Ok, is this some kind of cult or something? I mean, we all know that magic and all that junk doesn't really exist, right?" she asked, still not able to get the whole picture.
"It doesn't?" the old man asked, "Really though, how do you know that?"
"Well, I mean, there's just no way! It's impossible!" the girl said, a little uncertainly.
"Yes well," he said, sighing, "It would be a little much for a Muggle to understand, after all, it goes against all their teachings".
This time she knew she heard it right, and then questioned, "Muggle?"
"Yes, a Muggle, like yourself, it is someone who is not magic, like me, and everyone you see here". The ancient man said.
She looked around, a few doezen people were still looking at her, and the bushy-haired girl was talking to her two friends, while looking through a large, silver book. They were all wearing black robes, and quite a few had bags slung carelessly over their shoulders.
"Are you sure this isn't a cult? Or just some big joke? Maybe I'm dreaming, haha, that's it, I must have fallen on one of the rocks, and now I'm of in lala land or somethin! This is way to weird…" she trailed off.
"Yes, I'm sure this isn't a cult or a joke, and you're not dreaming," the man said, then added, "Sorry, I know this must be a lot for you to accept".
"Yah, you're tellin me!" the young girl said, running her fingers though her hair.
"Ahh, so you've met our trio of troublemakers!" the old man said with a laugh, he then motioned for the black-haired boy to come over. The small boy rose up, looking frankly bewildered.
"Yes Professor?" he asked, looking at the girl quizzically.
"Yes, I want you to give this young lady a tour of our fine home."
"But Sir, isn't she, I mean, she's a, why didn't the Muggle-Cha-, I mean, well, she's not like, one of us." The boy finished, looking a little embarrassed.
"I know, but under the circumstances, and the fact that we haven't had visitors since, well, the 1400's, I think it just to let her see our magnificant castle."
"Um, ok, but wait," Harry said, suddenly remebering, "I have classes, Potions, in ten minutes…" He trailed off, almost hopeful to get out of class.
"Well, I think that you can miss it just this once, can't you? " Dumbledore looked down at him though his specticals.
"Yes, of course," Harry said nervously, "I just have to go get my books."
"Yes, yes, of course," The professor sighed.
The muggle girl looked bewildered from the old man to the young boy, who then hurried back to his two friends. A shout suddenly interrupted her thoughts –
The boy walked slowly back to the muggle-girl, looking at her with an odd sort of apprehesion. "Shall we go then?" he asked.
"What? Oh, yes, um, ok". The girl replied.
They went all over the school, the young boy leading the way, showed her every classroom, many of which had classes. After an exaustign trip to the Divinititon tower, the girl was finally realizing this wasn't a dream. She looked around, trying to take in everything she saw, trying to remember every detail. At long last, (after a three hour tour of the castle) it was dinner time. The headmaster insisted their guest stay for dinner.
After a delicious meal, the old led her back to the intrance hall.
"When you leave, you will not remember a thing, do you understand?" The old man asked, looking at her though his specticals.
She nodded mutely, then with a wave to the boy, she took that one fateful step and left Hogwarts. No one ever asked her name.
She felt dizzy and clutched her stomahe. She was on the ground, kneeling. She stood up then grabbed her bag, which was laying on a rock three feet away. She gazed at her camera and CD player, wondering how they got like that…. For the time being, she remembered nothing.
Years later, the same girl sat in a café, though she was no longer a young girl, she was now a struggling, single mother. She put her head down on the small, circular table, letting the strong smell of tea wash over her. She closed her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep. Her hand started to move, back and forth, as if she was writing. A pen appeared in her hand, and underneath that a napkin. In her sleep a story unveiled itself. When she woke, a man, very old, appeared in front of her, gave her a small smile, and then disappeared. She looked down, amazed at what she saw. Piles on top of piles of napkins, all written on, all her handwriting. She picked them up and began reading, feeling as though she already knew the story.
Back ontop the mountain, the old man was talking to a now 17 year old youn man. "- she will live your adventures just as you did, only she will not know it, she will see the story of your life, year by year, and when she wakes, all she will know is what is in her writing."
"But why?" The boy asked.
"She was a visitor, and now is struggling in our world. She will not know what she writes is true, nor will she ever. It is simply a favor".
"How will she know? All she saw was the castle." The black-haired man said.
"They will come as dreams, she will live your life, as if she had been observing it, your stories will come to her whenever she sits in that café."
A few months later, the mother stared at her book in disbelief. "I wrote this" She thought, "And yet, I don't even know how!" She held the book arms length out in front of herself and read "Harry Potter and the Sorcerere's Stone" By J.K. Rowling.