Hi everyone! Long time no see, eh?

Okay, so a lot of things have been going on in my life, a lot of which are...not very good. But I'm trying to stay positive and not let any of it get to me (easier said than done tho, amirite?) But the last time you heard from me, I was in High School. Well I am now a graduate as of 3 years ago, and I'm now a college junior majoring in Animation. So yeah a lot has changed since I last posted.

Which brings me to my next point: my other stories. I have listed them as on an indefinite hiatus. I'm still deciding what to do with them in all honesty. My Ghostbusters sequel I think I want to continue, I just need to get my thoughts and ideas revised since I kinda forgot where I was going with it (my memory has gotten pretty bad). I know that at some point I would like to re-write Yes, of course they're serious. I look back on it now and it is just a giant clusterfuck of Mary-Sue-ness and I want to do poor Makenna justice. That and it's like I just typed the entire script verbatim with just little scenes of my own thrown in haphazardly here and there. That's a giant lawsuit if I ever saw one.

Alright, so I kinda wanted to try my hand at a largely OC fanfic, and what better universe to do that in than good ol' Harry Potter :D I am SO excited for the Fantastic Beasts movie and for when Cursed Child comes out in the US (if it hasn't already XD). Also, hopefully I might be going to WWOHP next summer. Anyway, I thought it might be fun to write about a different perspective of the years the Golden Trio were at Hogwarts. Maybe from another Muggleborn? It would be interesting trying to balance the life she knew as a Muggle and this new, exciting and yet dangerous world of magic. So this fic was born XD

Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter One: Definitely Not Normal

She was weird, they said. She was bad luck, they said. She was cursed, they said. Ask anyone at Green Meadows Primary School and they would tell you that Allison Riverwood was not normal.

It wasn't because of her appearance, thank goodness. She was a few inches shy of five feet tall and had a little more weight than some of the girls her age. She had a round face covered in freckles, impossibly curly brown hair, and big, curious blue-grey eyes that were hidden behind rectangular glasses, which always seemed to be sliding down her nose. She was already insecure about how she looked, and didn't think she could bear it if they started comparing her to a beached whale or some other nonsense like that. Why, then, would they say these rude remarks about a fellow classmate?

Because she made things happen.

Strange things.

Once, the classroom's pull-down maps pulled themselves down, as though an invisible someone was unraveling them for use. Another time, the drinking fountain seemed to be actively targeting students to squirt them in the eyeballs. Another time, a boy's pencil literally wet-noodled in his hand, rendering him unable to use it. And the overhead lights in the cafeteria seemed to change into a vast gradient of colors. And what did all of these occurrences have in common? The fact that Allison Riverwood was always present whenever they happened. No exceptions. Everything happened only when she was in the room.

Of course, they were not the only ones aware of this unexplainable phenomenon. Ally Riverwood herself had knowledge of these happenings and, quite honestly, she was getting tired of it.

She sighed to herself for the fifth time that day, fogging up the glass of her window with her breath. Outside it was a near torrential downpour. Thunder cracked through the sky and lightning lit up the clouds like giant, white-colored fireflies that came out in the summer evenings. The rain thudded hard against the roof above her, distracting her every few minutes with its pounding beat. She sighed again, this time in frustration. She was trying to think, and the loud noise of the storm and the gloominess it represented was not helping at all.

She leaned back to rest against the wall, attempting to stretch her legs out as much as her window seat would allow; almost all the way it seemed. One of the perks of being short, she guessed.

The school year had finished and the summer holidays were in full swing, but Allison found she couldn't really enjoy it as much as she would like to. The last year had ended so badly that she couldn't stop thinking about it. Somehow, in the midst of being picked on by a group of boys in her class, she had managed to make all the windows in the hallway explode, which sent shards of glass flying everywhere and landing some people with a trip to the nurse's office. This earned her, on the other hand, a trip to the headmaster's office. The man was red-faced and viciously interrogating her on how she managed to break fifteen windows simultaneously. Allison didn't know what to say; she couldn't tell him that she can't explain how she couldn't explain how she managed to do it. And even if she did, she highly doubted he would believe her. Her lack of answers only made the man angrier, and he threatened to fail her or expel her and make her mother pay for new windows.

Luckily Ms. Soto, her homeroom teacher, came to defend her and rescue her from the wrath of the headmaster before she could burst into tears. The brunette-haired woman somehow convinced the Headmaster not to force the window bill upon Mrs. Riverwood, and to let her off with only a stern warning. The almost 30-year-old brought her back to the classroom after the rest of the student body had gone. She had then offered Allison a ride home, which she accepted, for fear of some remaining students jumping her where the teacher wouldn't be around to intervene. She sensed that was the intention front the start, anyway. And even on the way home, Ms. Soto stopped to buy Allison an ice cream cone, which cheered the girl right up.

Allison owed a lot to Ms. Soto for sticking up for her each and every time something unusual had gone awry. She often felt she needed to pay her back in some way, but every time she tried, the teacher kindly and politely refused, saying that she did it because she wanted to, and that she knew Allison had no real control over any of the mishaps.

The only problem was next year, when she would no longer be going to Green Meadows. She would instead be going to South Fork Secondary, clear on the other side of town. Which meant that Ms. Soto would no longer be around to protect her the next time an incident occurred. And she was 100% sure that she would resume her position as the school freak on the first day. Again.

Her downward spiral of depressing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her mother's voice.

"Ally! Dinner's ready!" she called.

Ally breathed in deeply and stretched, trying to clear her mind and expression of her dilemma. She didn't want to worry her mother with it. Not when her mother already had a lot to worry about.

When she arrived downstairs, the smell of pasta and garlic bread entered her nose and made her feel a little better, and they were some of her favorite things to eat. She entered the kitchen to find the plates, silverware, and cups stacked on the far edge of the table, and her mother at the stove. Their pet dog, a light colored golden retriever named Calypso, sat next to her on the floor, her flowing tail swishing around on the floor like a feather duster came to life, hoping that something will be dropped that she can eat.

"Ally, honey, can you set the table for me?" The older woman jerked slightly and slowly pivoted to the left, gripping tightly to the red walker at her side to start inching her way towards the refridgerator.

"Sure, Mom." Ally did as she was asked without question. She picked up the plates and silverware and placed them in their usual dining spots adjacent from each other. She then placed the cups catty cornered from the plates, and then moved around the table opposite her mother to the stove.

It wasn't long after that when they sat down to eat. Calypso took up her usual place lying under the table, not begging for scraps as she was trained. Ally stood behind her mother's chair as the woman struggled to get comfortable enough for her to push it in. She had to really work to make her knees bend in order for her to sit down.

Diana Riverwood-or Diana Murray as she went by now, which was her maiden name-had a more difficult time getting around and doing things than most people her age. She had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis a few years back, when Ally was just six, and it made living life normally very hard on both her and on her daughter. This meant Ally had to do a good number of extra chores around the house since her mother couldn't anymore. Ally didn't mind, of course. If she could do anything to make life easier for her poor mother, then the extra work was worth it. And her mother made sure to show her appreciation with a gift of a new book or sketchpad or even taking her to the movies on a weekend. It wasn't without hardships, or course, but the new arrangement had been beneficial to the both of them.

Dinner at the Riverwood household was delicious as always, but Ally couldn't keep her mind from wandering back to her little problem. She needed to find a way to suppress it somehow. She would like to be able to meet some new friends at her new school, and it was always her "condition" that made it nearly impossible. The only thing was, she had no idea how she would do it. They happened sporadically, virtually unpredictable in every sense of the word. But, she noticed that they happened every time her emotions spiked and got the better of her. But she didn't think she could become emotionless, at least not on the spot. It would look too suspicious, and it would only worry her mother-

"Darling, is something the matter? You've hardly touched your food." Her mother paused and looked at her daughter, concern written in her tired hazel eyes.

Ally felt a little startled. She had realized that she had been staring off into space, her fork stopped in mid twirl of her spaghetti. Guilt washed through her, and she quickly resumed eating as if nothing was the matter.

"No, nothing's wrong, Mom. I'm fine." She lied, the guilt sinking in even further at the act of lying to her mother. "Just a little spacey today."

This part wasn't exactly a lie, but she couldn't let her mother know that. Rule number one of the strange phenomena: Don't worry Mom. She had enough on her plate with her MS and for being the primary breadwinner of the household.

Mrs. Riverwood worked in an office at a part stamping company for cars. It was really the only thing she could do anymore with her legs not working as they used to, and her hands were a bit less coordinated as well. Ally's father, Grant Riverwood, had been part of the income-making once. He had worked at a steel company, on the floor. But that seemed like a long time in the past now. He had also had a slight drinking problem, and it came back to bite him in the butt about two years ago. He passed away suddenly one night when Ally was at her grandmother's, the cause turning out to be liver cancer, among other things.

Ally also knew that her mother already worried about her growing up without her dad. And she was also depressed as a result of her MS. She didn't want to add to those worries and make her mother's depression worse.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Riverwood was as much sharp as she was kind, and Ally found she could not pull the wool over her mother's eyes. "Sweetheart, you don't usually stare into space like this, especially on pasta night. Are you sure there isn't anything wrong?"

"No, Mom. I'm okay, really." The fact that she couldn't fool her mother didn't mean that she couldn't try. A foolish thing to do, really, but she didn't know that at the time. "Just have some things on my mind."

Shoot. She shouldn't have said that. Now it was just going to make things more awkward.

"What kind of things?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, I promise."

"Well when you look off into the clouds with that horribly sad and worried look on your face, I get uneasy. Tell me what's troubling you, sweetheart. You can talk to me."

Ally was starting to feel frustrated. Her mother was just not going to let it alone, was she? She supposed it was the Murray family stubbornness shining through, along with her mother's caring and maternal nature. However, Ally needed to get her off the case, for her sake.

Mrs. Riverwood started to get stern at this point. Her daughter was hiding something that seemed bad and she wanted to know what it was. She hated seeing Ally upset, and she wanted her girl to put trust in her that she could talk about anything she needed. She was also, if this wasn't obvious by now, fiercely protective when it came to Ally. The girl was her only child, after all.

"Allison Claire Riverwood, tell me what's wrong. Now." She commanded, her lips tightening to show that she was serious, fixing Ally with a piercing stare.

"I'm telling you, Mom, I'm fine-"

CRASH!

Out of nowhere, the vase in the far corner of the kitchen spontaneously exploded. Ally screamed, and her mother gasped aloud, stunned and almost flopping out of her chair. Calypso yelped and scurried quickly from under the table, fleeing into the living room to hide in her safe spot under the coffee table. The pieces of ceramic didn't go too far, but they did make a mess on the floor, mixing in with the water and dirt and shreds of flowers that now lay in a disgusting pile on the side table where the vase once stood.

"My vase!" her mother cried, still shocked at what she had just seen.

Ally, on the other hand, had a look of pure horror on her face as her brain tried to process what had just happened. Her problem had manifested. Again. It had happened in front of her mother. Again. And she just somehow managed to break her mother's favorite vase, the one that her father had given her on their last anniversary while he was still living.

"Ally, are you okay? Did any of the glass hit you?" Mrs. Riverwood looked worriedly at her daughter, who had gone ashen-ly pale as she stared wide-eyed at the dirtied corner.

Her mother's voice was far away. Ally felt her heart drop to her stomach, and her breathing quickened. Her mind was going a mile a minute, her eyes stung with hot, frightened tears that quickly slipped down her face in big, fat drops.

She tried to make sure her mother didn't see her crying, but again, almost nothing could get past Diana Murray Riverwood. "Ally, what's wrong, dearheart? Why are you crying?" she asked gently, placing a small, worn hand on her daughter's. Her thumb rubbed comfortingly against Ally's skin. "It's okay, talk to me."

"I-I-I'm sorry, Mom!" The dam broke and Ally's shoulders shook as she sobbed and trembled in fear. "I-I didn't mean to b-break your vase…" she moaned despondently.

Her mother tilted her head and fixed her with a gentle, soothing expression. "Oh, honey, you don't need to apologize. It wasn't your fault-"

"Yes i-it was!" Ally wailed, burying her face in her hands. "It was all m-my fault! This b-bad luck won't st-stop following me! I'm…..I…I'm…..I'm cursed!"

"Sweetheart, you're not cursed-"

"Yes I am!" she screamed.

Her mother continued to calmly stroke her hand and said nothing, having been rendered speechless by her outburst, so she went on. "I h-have to be cursed! It's not a coincidence that all these weird th-things keep happening whenever I'm in the room! I c-can't have any friends because they all think I'm the devil reincarnated or something! They all b-bully me 'cause they think I do it on purpose, but I don't! They say I'm like the Anti-Christ! I-It would be better off if-"

"Allison Claire Riverwood, that's enough!" her mother shouted suddenly, looking surprisingly angry despite having a gentle and yet concerned face only moments before. Ally stopped her weeping at her mother's outburst and just stared at her in shock, her eyes wide, the tears still dripping down her flushed and freckly cheeks.

Mrs. Riverwood took her daughter's hand in hers and squeezed it, getting Ally's attention and looking straight into her blue-gray eyes. Oh how a pang of sadness swept through her, both from the pain Ally was going through with this whatever it was and the fact that every time she looked into her daughter's eyes, all she could see was her late husband staring back at her. She batted the thought away and stared Ally down sternly.

"I don't ever want to hear you say those things or finish that last sentence ever again, are we clear?" Ally blinked several times, still flabbergasted at her mother's behavior. She couldn't find it in herself to speak or work her mouth properly. She just nodded instead.

Her mother's face warped back into the anguished, caring, and gentle face it had been moments before. "Listen to me, dearheart. You are not the devil reincarnated; you are not the Anti-Christ; and you should not listen to the nasty things other people say to you when they don't even try to understand the real you, alright?"

Ally said nothing. Hearing the clicking on the linoleum of the kitchen floor, Ally saw that Calypso had cautiously made her way back into the kitchen. The dog's ears perked up at her sniffling and immediately trotted over to rest her head on Ally's lap, staring up at her with her huge, brown doe eyes. She placed her other hand on top of their clasped ones. "Do you know what I see in front of me?"

Ally shook her head slowly, the tears slowing but still falling. A freak, a monster; her mind was listing all negative words to describe herself. Her lip trembled.

Her mother smiled lovingly. Her voice was husky and comforting, and it reminded Ally of the nights when she was little and she had woken from a nightmare; her mother would rush into the room and cuddle her in her arms, whispering that she was there, that she would protect her, and that nothing would hurt her, using that same light and soothing tone. Fast forward to now, and her mother's worn face still held the same sense of security as it did back then. "I see a special, talented, kindhearted, and gorgeous young girl, who would never hurt a fly even if she wanted to. And I know she would never want to."

Ally sniffed and rubbed the tears from her eyes.

"Feel better?" the older woman asked quietly.

"…a little, I guess." Ally did feel as though the weight lodged in her chest had lightened somewhat. It was still there, but hey, it was progress, right?

"Good." Her mother opened her arms as an invitation, and Ally didn't miss the chance to run into them for a hug, which made Calypso retreat back under the table. Mrs. Riverwood rubbed at her shoulders and back, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead before combing through her curly hair.

"I love you, Ally. You are my whole world, and I hate to see you so upset." Her mother managed to rock them back and forth slowly, which always helped calm Ally down when she was in one of her moods. "I know you try not to make me worried, but that's what I'm here for, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you and I'll listen, okay?"

Ally sniffed again, and this time she replied with a quiet "Okay. Love you, too," against her mother's shirt.

"That's my girl."

They settled back down to dinner. A good portion of the food had gone a little cold, but they still ate it anyway. Ally didn't feel as spaced out and afraid as she had before, so she was more open to talk to her mother about anything and everything.

The topic was back on the supposed bad luck that followed her everywhere, but this time it was just out of genuine curiosity. She had to admit there were times that it wasn't so bad; times when it was just her around to witness. Once, when she had walked in front of old Mrs. Langston's yard one Saturday morning on the way to the grocer's, the young buds in her garden suddenly bloomed into large, beautiful flowers as she passed. One day it began to rain heavily as she was walking home from school, and she was caught without an umbrella. However, her clothes and hair had somehow stayed perfectly dry all the way home. And then a month ago her mother had basically demanded that she clean her room, a chore that she greatly despised no matter how small the mess was. Yet when she opened her bedroom door after grudgingly tromping up the stairs, the room was spotless and all her possessions had been mysteriously organized.

"What do you think it is, Mom?" Ally asked through a mouthful of garlic bread.

"I'm not entirely sure, love." Her mother shrugged before picking up her glass and taking a long sip of her water.

"D'you think we'll ever figure out what's causing it?"

"Oh, I think so. Everything in the world happens for a reason, don't forget. We should see this reason sometime in the future-"

Of course, nothing prepared either Ally or her mother for what came next. A strange, bird-like squawk sounded near the kitchen window. Footsteps on the pathway got louder and louder, and the two of them stopped their conversation dead in its tracks.

And then the doorbell rang.

O SHIT CLIFFHANGER lol

So I don't have a solid updating schedule hashed out yet. Summer vacation is winding down and I'll be going back to school here in a couple of weeks, which means I'll be pretty busy with classes (I have to get my shit together, in more ways than one. I'm on academic probation. Again. And I'd like to earn some scholarships this year. Also my time in art school is almost over and that means real life is approaching fast aka expenses and STUDENT LOAN BILLS...blehhhhhh can I not adult, please?). But I feel really strongly about this fic, and I'm gonna see it as my training to stop being like Professor Calamitous and not finishing what I start, so I'll see what I can do. (But seriously that is a really BAD habit of mine. I need to fix it if I ever hope to get somewhere in my career).

So please comment and tell me what you think! I'd really love to hear from you, and it would be good to have some constructive criticism to improve :D But please, no trolling, no flaming, I'm not tolerant of that shit. You're not being funny, you're just being annoying. Don't like, don't read, simple as that. Capiche?

Also, I have posted this story on my AO3 profile as well, which is where I have also posted some of my more...ahem...risque works. So go check those out when you get the chance!

Until next time, guys! 3

~H.E.T.