Chapter 2:

Several days flitted by slowly, especially for Trinity, who spent her days outside, stretched on the grass, enjoying the rare sunlight. She was also staying outside whenever she could to avoid Ms. Whitby yelling at her for whatever reason the old nun could find to yell. She sat in the dry grass, staring up at the sky longingly, wishing that she was like the birds who flew above her, and that she could escape the orphanage forever.

"Jones!" Ms. Whitby yelled from inside.

Trinity sighed heavily before getting up. Without bothering to brush herself off, she walked into the orphanage, but dragged her feet as she went. Ms. Whitby was standing in the main hallway, holding a dark cream-colored envelope that had Trinity's name written on it, as well as her exact address, right down to the room she slept in. "Yes?" She tried her best to sound innocent.

"This came for you!" Ms. Whitby shoved the envelope to Trinity as though it were a bomb about to explode on Guy Fawkes Day.

She blinked as she looked at the envelope. Had a long lost relative finally found her, and wanted her to come live with them? Did she somehow get accepted into a really good secondary school, and would have an excuse to be away from the orphanage during the school year? She turned it over to find it stamped with a large H. Her eyebrows furrowed. She was unaware of any school with the symbol of H. Still, she opened it with trembling fingers.

"I think you'd better read that filthy letter in your room."

Trinity looked up quickly. In all the years she had been stuck at the orphanage, she had never heard Ms. Whitby's voice shake. She shrugged it off, and went up to her room without incident. She sat in her bed before pulling the letter out, which had some of the most elegant and beautiful handwriting she had ever seen.

Hogwarts School

of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

Dear Ms. Jones,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Horace Slughorn

Deputy Headmaster

Trinity read and reread the letter, not believing what she was reading. Was it a joke? She wondered that for several long, slow moments. It had to be, she concluded. But her subconscious argued that this letter explained all those unexplained occurrences of the times when she would get upset and it would suddenly rain when it had been sunny just moments before, or the times when Ms. Whitby would push her over the edge and a light bulb would shatter.

The words floated around in her head. After a long while of sitting there, staring at the words etched into the parchment, she got to her feet and began pacing back and forth along the length of her room.

She wanted badly to send a reply immediately, but she did not know the address of this Hogwarts. Many questions took up residence in her mind as she paced the small room, such as if her parents were magical.

After many minutes, she leapt into her bed and stared up at the ceiling until the late hours of the night.

The weeks following receiving the letter had not changed much. Trinity spent much of her free time pacing back and forth in her room, only coming out for meals and chores or for when prospective parents came to adopt children. The deadline for her reply came and went, and even after July 31st, she still had not given up hope that she would soon leave the orphanage for the school that took up the majority of her dreams.

She woke one late August morning, feeling groggy. Her dreams had been filled with the possibility of her heritage. No one really knew where she had come from or who her parents were. If she was indeed a witch, then were her parents magic too? If so, why did they abandon her at the orphanage?

A loud pounding on her door removed her from her thoughts. "Who is it?"

"You have a guest!" shouted Ms. Whitby.

Her heart pounded against her chest rapidly. She scrambled to get out of bed and dressed in her finest t-shirt and torn jeans. "Come in!" She hoped that this guest was one of her parents, or even another family member come to reclaim her. As the door opened, she held her breath.

A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway. She wore a bright colorful full-length skirt and a very similar loose blouse. Her hair was dark auburn and bushy. She had a relaxed smile on her face as she looked at Trinity with her pale blue eyes. "Trinity Jones?"

"Yes." She stood still, unsure of how to act. Her eyes narrowed at the woman suspiciously.

"Lynne Messenger." She extended her hand, which Trinity shook. "I would have arrived sooner, but the Minister kept me late every night over the summer holiday. I take it you received your letter?" She spoke so fast and with such a heavy Irish accent that it was nearly impossible for Trinity to understand her.

She blinked for a moment before going over to her bed and taking out the letter from under her pillow. "You mean this?"

"That exactly." Lynne's smile widened.

"But—witches and that lot are evil. They—follow the Devil and are condemned to damnation!" The words came out so fast, Trinity could not stop them.

"And who told you that, Ms. Jones?"

"Please, just call me Trinity," she muttered, blushing.

"Alright, Trinity, who told you that magic is evil?"

"Father Harmon."

"And does Father Harmon know that magic happens in the Bible?"

"That's all from God!"

Lynne suddenly looked very tired as she pursed her lips together. "I cannot lie to you—some witches and wizards go bad sometimes, but then so do a lot of muggles."

"Muggles?"

"Non magic folk. The point is—there is also a lot of beauty that happens in magic. I cannot force you to decide one way or the other, but I can promise you quite the adventure, if you choose to embrace your heritage."

"Were my parents like you?"

Lynne frowned, though nothing more could be read from her expression. "Yes," she finally answered. "Though they died several years ago."

"Why was I given up?" Trinity's hopes of someday meeting her parents were shattered, but she did not feel much to learn of their fate because she had never known them.

"I do not have all the answers you seek."

"But if I go to this school—Hogwarts—I can learn the truth?"

"If that is what you really want. But Trinity—I must advise that you be careful with what you wish for."

Trinity thought for a long moment before asking, "If I go, does that mean that I don't have to live here anymore?"

"I do not know," replied Lynne carefully. "You will start every school year in September and the summer holiday starts mid-June."

"I'll go—it can't be any worse than this place."

Lynne could not help but to smile. "Then I will take you to get your school supplies."

Trinity frowned and adverted her gaze to the floor. "I doubt Ms. Whitby will let me go to Hogwarts once she finds out what it is," she muttered.

"The train leaves tomorrow morning." Lynne paused, smiling. "Pack your belongings, while I have a word with Ms. Whitby." With a flick of her wand, she summoned a brown rucksack, which she gave to Trinity before leaving the room.

It was only once she was gone that Trinity realized how fast her heart was racing. She looked around her room, trying to decide what to take with her because she had no idea if she would ever return to this place.

"Leaving?"

She jumped and whipped around to find Nigel standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. "God, Nigel—did you have to sneak up on me like that?" she gasped.

"Who's that woman?"

"Honestly? I haven't the slightest idea."

"Is she adopting you then?"

"Don't know that either."

"Then why were you told to pack your stuff?"

"She's probably just here to bring me to some school."

"That's a load of rubbish," he snarled. "You get average grades at best, barely good enough to get into any of the mediocre schools around here. What's really going on?"

"I told you—I don't know."

"Well, if she adopts you, I hope you'll be happy." He turned and started walking away, but Trinity stopped him.

"Nigel—please!" she cried. "I'm really sorry you can't come with! I'll write to you every chance I get."

"Don't bother." He pulled away from her and stomped down the hall, leaving Trinity to sob in her doorway.

"A friend of yours?" Lynne had returned. Her expression was of sympathy for the young girl.

Trinity nodded numbly. "The only one I've ever known," she said softly. "Does he have to stay here?" She turned to look at Lynne, tears falling down her cheeks in rivers.

"I'm sorry—but muggles aren't supposed to know about our society except when absolutely necessary."

"And when is it necessary?" snapped Trinity harshly.

"When a muggle-born has the talent necessary to get into a school like Hogwarts." Lynne sighed heavily. "I will see if I can get him adopted by a loving family soon."

Trinity nodded, accepting that small amount of comfort. She turned back to her room; stuffing what clothing she could fit into the rucksack before grabbing her letter and turning back to Lynne. "I'm ready."

"Excellent!" said Lynne cheerfully, grinning widely. She led Trinity out of the orphanage and into the streets of Cambridge.

"What did you say to Ms. Whitby?"

"Oh, I have a way with words."

Trinity blinked, uncertain of what to think of the woman she walked next to. She walked silently, afraid that if she spoke out, she would get yelled at. She paused when Lynne led her down to the Alewife Station. "Where are we going?" she squeaked.

"We have to go to London to get your school things," answered Lynne as though that were the most obvious thing in the world. "Have to use muggle means of transport as you're underage."

Trinity caught up to her quickly as a rush of people exited the underground station. She kept as close as she could to Lynne, glad that the older woman had the fare for their tickets.

"Muggle transport is so cumbersome!" Lynne whispered when she had the tickets. "If we were able to travel the normal way, we'd be there by now."

She stared at Lynne, wide eyed, wondering what sort of travel would get them to London faster than the subway. She did not have long to think about it because the subway they were taking was approaching. She followed Lynne to the back corner, glad that other people seemed to be crowding to the front.

"Where are we going to get my school supplies?" she asked, taking out her list of required materials. "I'm going to need three sets of plain black work robes, a black pointed hat, protective gloves—dragon hide or similar?—one winter cloak, a bunch of books I haven't heard of, a wand, cauldron, a set of glass or crystal phials, telescope, and a set of brass scales. How is it that normal people don't know about magic?"

"Normal? My dear girl, define normal."

"All these other people—the ones who don't use magic." Trinity gestured to the people on the subway. She frowned as it pulled away from the station, knowing that it was possible that she was leaving everything she had ever known behind. Despite it having been a miserable existence, she felt that part of her deep down would miss it.

"Well—to answer your first question, it is a matter of knowing precisely where to go. We have ways of hiding our existence from muggles."

"How am I going to pay for all this? In case you haven't noticed, I haven't got any money."

"Professor Longbottom was kind enough to take care of all your money problems while you're in Hogwarts. There are programs in place for muggle-borns to afford their school supplies and books each year they're at Hogwarts."

"Professor Longbottom—what does he teach?"

"He'll be your Herbology teacher. He's also Head of Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor?"

"It is one of four houses in Hogwarts. At the start of term, first years are sorted into their houses. There's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I was in Hufflepuff."

"What sort of classes will I be taking?"

"Well—there's Astronomy, taught by Professor Molyneux; Charms is taught by good ol' Professor Flitwik, Head of Ravenclaw; Defense Against the Dark Arts is taught by Professor Diederich; Herbology as you know is taught by Professor Longbottom; History of Magic is being taught by Professor Rankin now; Potions is taught by Professor Slughorn, Head of Slytherin, and your Headmaster; and Transfiguration is taught by Professor Fara, she's head of Hufflepuff."

"That's a lot of classes," Trinity squeaked.

Lynne chuckled. "There was one student a few years behind me who took every class offered in her third year, when you're allowed to add a couple electives. The few times I saw her, I thought she was going to die."

"Was she mental?"

"I thought so—still do actually. But now she's a good friend of mine. Works at the Ministry with me, in fact." She grinned.

"At the Ministry? You mean you hold places in the—muggle government?" She blinked as she pictured witches and wizards within Parliament.

"Heavens no!" laughed Lynne. "We have the Ministry of Magic. It takes care of wizarding law and such—completely independent of the muggle government." She sighed heavily. "Kingsley Shacklebolt is our current Minister."

When they finally reached Liverpool Street Station, she found herself relieved to be off the subway. She followed Lynne onto the surface. Her breath hitched when she saw how packed and fast paced London was. She recognized some of the surrounding buildings: Canary Wharf, Tower of London, Saint Paul's Cathedral, London Eye, and Cromwell Tower.

"Blast it all!" growled Lynne as she looked at her watch. "We'd better hurry up. Most of the shops close in forty-five minutes!" She grabbed Trinity by the wrist and led the young girl into a run down looking pub. Without greeting anyone, she brought Trinity through the back entrance to a brick wall.

A/N: I do realize that J.K. has stated that McGonagall retired before the nineteen years later, but for the purposes of this story, she's still at Hogwarts, at least for now. Sorry for the long update time. I have been a very busy college student: French, Drawing, and History, and while that sounds like an easy class load, IT IS NOT. I was only able to get this chapter done due to being slightly ahead in my French class. Reviews are appreciated. I may not respond directly to them, but it does boost my initiative to get things done. I don't expect another update until Halloween at the earliest, but definitely by Thanksgiving, assuming classes don't get any more insane.