Full Summary:

A scared, confused, and harmless Muggle is unceremoniously dragged into the Wizard world involuntarily. She does not understand why people in strange dress are following her around and pointing strange stick-like objects at her and no one seems disposed to explain. In a tug-of-war between the Order and the Death Eaters, she seems to be stuck in the middle until someone can figure out what the bloody hell is going on.

Chapter 1

Sandy Tattersmith was a perfectly ordinary Muggle living a perfectly ordinary life. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearing her final year of college when her parents surprised her with a summer trip to France. Living in London, she was able to visit France several times before and was excited to spend some time out of the city. When the semester ended Sandy left her dorm cheerily and headed off to her parent's house. The plane tickets were for the following Sunday.

Being an English major, Sandy was an avid reader and therefore filled the following day with browsing bookstores and stopping at the library to return some books that were due. As she handed the large pile of books to the lady on the other side of the counter, she glanced over her shoulder at a tall thin man that was standing several feet from her with his long nose stuck in a rather thick book. He appeared to be wearing mismatched clothing, a long-sleeved plaid shirt with green pinstriped suit pants. On the top of his head was red thinning hair and a growing bald spot. Sandy looked back at the librarian as she finished scanning the books and wished her a pleasant evening.

After nodding she stepped out of the library into fresh air and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering menacingly, threatening to unleash pelts of rain. Sure enough minutes later, as Sandy was walking down the busy London street, drops of rain became sprinkling down. Luckily this time she had brought her umbrella along and so she stopped for a moment to take it out of her bag. With one press of a button the umbrella shot open, almost hitting a passerby in the head, and she held it up with her right hand, clutching her bag with her left.

She continued down the street, rain pattering on the top of her umbrella and trickling down the sides, eventually hitting the dirty sidewalk with a splat. At a crossing she stopped with a small group of people who were waiting to cross the street. Cars drove by and Sandy happened to glance over her shoulder again. The man from the library was at the side of the street, apparently reading a street side. She had a strange suspicion that she was being followed, but shrugged it off figuring that it was simply a coincidence. Why would anyone want to follow her?

The lights changed and people began hurrying across the wet street. Sandy joined them, glad to see that the man was not following the crowd. The rain was now pounding down and the wind was picking up. Sandy was finding it hard to keep hold of her umbrella. She came to stop outside of a small coffee shop and decided to enter. It was a pleasant refuge from the weather outside. She settled into a seat by the window and was greeted by a waitress who took her order for 'warm tea, no sugar' and a blueberry muffin. The waitress had just returned with her order when Sandy noticed something peculiar outside the window.

A small group of people in long black cloaks had just walked by, she wondered if there was some sort of convention going on in the city that she was unaware of, but that was not the strange part. The man whom she had seen in the library was across the street, and he looked as though he were talking to a tabby cat. Sandy blinked and they were gone. She turned her head back, thanking the waitress, and took a small bite of her muffin. Surely it was not that odd for people to talk to their pets, but still…

She took a long sip of her tea and then looked around the shop. It was pretty full, many people obviously stopping in until the rain calmed down a bit. People were shaking off their coats and umbrellas, casting rather petulant glances at the window. With one last cursory look around she returned her gaze to her own table where her bag was resting and reached over to it, pulling out a book. She happily delved into one of Jane Austen's classics that she had found on sale at a bookstore earlier that day. Soon Sandy was in a state of absorption that would take much to bring her out of. When a loud crash occurred, however, she reluctantly torn her eyes from the page to see what had happened.

Over in the corner of the store the waitress had dropped a tray of mugs that had been filled with apparently something hot, for a woman nearby was screeching about how it had splattered on her leg and was burning. The waitress was apologizing profusely to everyone around her, including the table of people whom she was headed for, as she clumsily attempted to clean up the mess. Another worker came over to help her, holding a mop with his left hand. As they were cleaning the table of people were complaining about how they had been waiting for their order for twenty minutes ("never had they endured such terrible service as this!") and the woman was still screaming about her leg ("I ought to sue you for that! Look, the spot is still red!"). With all this noise Sandy had lost all hopes of returning to the novel and so she placed it back in her bag and took out some money. She left the cash on the table and got up to leave, getting ready to open her umbrella the minute she stepped back out onto the street.

She felt sympathetic towards the girl, having been a waitress before, and wondered what had caused her to drop the tray. Shaking it from her mind she decided to head home, noticing that the weather was not improving much and the sky was darkening. Sandy turned the corner and once again had a feeling that she was being followed. She quickened her step, her feet hitting the ground hard and splashing water on her shoes as she stepped into a puddle. Minutes later she found herself hurrying down an almost empty street. Nervously glancing around she spotted a group of people in dark cloaks that looked suspiciously like the people who had passed the coffee shop.

Sandy looked around and then turned into an alleyway, but then stopped dead in the middle of it. At the other opening stood the man that she kept seeing, except this time he was not alone. On one side of him was a man with graying brown hair and on the other side was a woman with short bright pink hair that immediately caught her attention. They seemed to be looking at her interestedly, nodding to each other and speaking in low tones. Not sure what to do, Sandy turned around, ready to go back the way she came, but before she had taken two steps the opening to the street was blocked. Three forms in long black cloaks stood in her path.

Now more tense then ever she looked from side to side, wondering which looked less ominous. No one had given her time to decide, however, because a second later one of the cloaked people had held up what looked like a polished stick, pointed at her, and shouted, "Stupefy!"

A bolt of red light shot by her, Sandy had luckily moved out of the way as she had been inching over to the wall, thoroughly confused. Those people must be mad, she thought, but the light that shot out of the stick had been enough to turn her confusion into fright. The people on the other side were walking up the alley, each brandishing similar stick-like objects and aiming them at the people in the cloaks. Sandy stared at them, frozen in her spot and speechless. She did not have much time to take in what was going on, for a second later the same person yelled "Stupefy!" again and she fell heavily, unconscious, to the hard ground, her head slamming onto the stone.

When she awoke later she had thought that it had all been a dream, but the throbbing of her head informed her that it was not. Suddenly a wave of panic spread over her as her eyes darted about her surroundings. She was alone, lying in a bed that had off-white sheets and dark red drapes. She pulled them back to reveal a simple bedroom with a fireplace, peeling wallpaper, and a portrait on the wall that appeared to be snoring. Sandy surveyed it oddly and then got out of bed, wondering where she was. Her bag was sitting on the dusty floor next to her shoes, and she swiftly grabbed them and began tying them on when the door flew open.

A pleasant plump woman entered the room carrying a tray of sandwiches and tea. She set it down on the bed and looked at Sandy, smiling. "Ahh, I see you have awakened!" she beamed. "How is your head feeling? – Arthur! She's awake!"

Sandy looked up at her from the shoe she was tying with a puzzled expression. "W-who, who are you?" she asked, finished with her shoes and standing up. "Where am I?"

The woman's smile did not falter. "Don't worry dear, you are safe here. My name is Molly Weasley and this is-"

She was interrupted by a loud knocking coming from downstairs. Looking away from Sandy she stepped out into the hallway. "Eat something, I'll be right back." Sandy heard footsteps descending the stairs and her eyes turned to the tray. She was unsure of whether the food was safe to eat or not and she was not particularly hungry, so instead of listening to the woman she picked up her bag and followed her down the stairs.

Standing in the foyer was Molly Weasley and a person whom had just entered and was taking off their cloak, revealing black robes and grizzled dark grey hair. His growling voice asked, "So I hear you've found the girl?"

"Yes, she is upstairs." Molly answered.

"Not anymore."

Sandy had no idea how he knew she was there without turning to look, but after his comment Molly had turned her head to look. Sure enough she saw her standing there near the bottom of the stairs. "Sandy- this is Alastor Moody."

Sandy, unsure of what to say, simply nodded and weakly attempted to smile. The man had turned around and she finally saw his face, which looked like it had been carved out of wood. One of his eyes was normal, but the other one was larger and bright blue, moving around on its own. After impolitely staring at him for several minutes, unable to take her eyes off his wandering eye, Molly broke the silence.

"Alastor, everyone is in the kitchen."

He grunted and then stalked off to the right, which Sandy could only suppose was the way to the kitchen. Molly stood for a few moments in the hall and then glanced at Sandy again. "Would you like to join us dear?"

She hesitated before answering. Then, nodding slightly, still incapable of speech, she assented. Sandy followed Molly to a long room where many people were seated around a large square table. As they entered the room almost everyone looked up from their conversations and glanced at her. She could felt her cheeks reddening as she grew even more uncomfortable. No one seemed surprised at seeing her; they merely looked and then returned to what they were doing. Molly gestured to an empty seat and Sandy took it, as if in a daze. She sat down quietly, her eyes scanning the people around the table.

Molly took a seat next to a man that she immediately recognized as the one who had been following her. The other two that were with him were there as well, sitting across the table from him. On the other side of the woman with the pink hair sat a black-hair woman. Sandy realized, after looking at all of them, that the conversations had come to a halt.

"This is her then?" the black-hair woman asked, looking from the people sitting next to her to Sandy and back.

The man sitting next to Molly nodded.

"She's not very talkative, eh?"

"Would you be after just getting attacked by Death Eaters?" Moody asked in a grunt from beside Sandy.

The man with graying brown hair cut in, stopping the black-haired woman from answering. His face was turned towards Molly. "Have you told her anything?"

Molly shook her head.

Sandy sat, observing this from her seat at the other side of the table. Finally she found her voice, asking in a meek but still rather loud tone, "What is going on?"

All eyes immediately turned to her and, with a thud, she fell off her chair.

A/N: Please review!