Notes:

Here's the first chapter!

This is still very much setup, which is why the chapter is fairly short and action-free.

If there's anyone reading this, please please review. I'm interested to see what people think (especially when the main storylines kick off).

Chapter 1

Date: ? Location: ?

Drifting back into consciousness, I felt stranded in blank space, waiting for my sight and some sensation to return. I could hear muffled voices above me, as if speaking through cotton wool ,but my senses told me little else. The speech became gradually more distinct, morphing from meaningless chatter into actual words forming coherent sentences that I fought to make sense of.

'I think she is beginning to wake up.'

Professor Dumbledore's voice, sounding cautious and oddly mournful.

When I'd first met him, my parents had just died. For some reason, the shock hadn't quite hit me then, and all I could think about was how he looked like a magician out of a fairy tale. He'd stared at me with piercing blue eyes, seeming to recognise me, even though I'd never seen anyone who looked anything like him before.

'Albus. Are you sure that this was the right choice? She's just a child. Not many witches her age could even begin to understand the sacrifices that she has made, and the risks that she'll be undertaking.'

I didn't recognize this voice. It was female, and sounded as though the voice's owner was afraid and unused to be arguing with Dumbledore in this way.

Listening to these voices overhead, I'd gradually became conscious of lying on a soft surface somewhere warm, covered by a blanket. I seemed to be wearing something silky, not the plain cotton skirt and t-shirt I'd worn the day before. All of this added up to... something. I was getting pieces of the puzzle but they weren't quite fitting together yet.

I still didn't quite understand what I was doing here, wherever this was. Why wasn't I waking up at home to the sound and smell of my parents making breakfast and arguing downstairs?

Something had happened. Something bad, that I couldn't quite place.

'Sophie? Are you awake?'

Dumbledore again.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, taking in the stark white walls and ceiling and harsh lighting of the room that I was in.

Unfamiliar.

'Where am I?'

Dumbledore smiled, and I noticed absently the way that his eyes were glistening.

He stood leaning over the bed I was on, his face close enough to mine that I could see each individual wrinkle on his face, along with he tufty white hair of his beard.

Was this some kind of hallucination? So far, it read like the plot of a bad spy novel. I'd been taken away (kidnapped?) by an old man, who told me that he was a wizard, and I could be one too. Or, a witch. Whatever.

This would be the point right after I'd groaned in frustration at how gullible the main character was. A seventeen year old girl, for God's sake, and she believes that the strange old man is going to teach her magic if she goes with him.

'This is the hospital wing. You fainted towards the end of the spell, but it worked.'

Oh. The spell. God. Did that mean that I was... I had... Could it really be true?

I focussed on the sensations in my body, trying to detect any obvious changes, but I was still pretty out of it, and it was difficult to tell whether the weirdness I picked up on was the result of having been unconscious, or indicative of a greater change.

The smile faded from the aged wizard's face to be replaced by a grave expression.

'You might want to look at a mirror. A full length one has been brought here, and is standing in the corner of the room. '

Right. Fucking hell. Might as well get it over with.

Now that I was almost fully awake, I could tell that the new clothes weren't all that felt different about my body.

Not wanting to lose my nerve, I swung my legs over the side of the hospital bed that I had woken up in. As I staggered a little, I tried not to think about how the floor was further away than I was used to.

I walked over to the mirror, and felt, with each step, an entirely new set of muscles shift under my skin. When I reached the mirror, I took a deep breath and braced myself for the shock before looking up. Upon seeing my reflection, I stared, dumbfounded. For a minute or so, I couldn't move, couldn't even think clearly. My eyes were showing me something that should have been impossible, and my mind couldn't even begin to process it.

This? This was her? Or rather, this was me?

The girl staring back at me from the mirror was a good few inches taller than I'd been before, and wearing a white silk nightgown with ruffles that looked like it had come straight out of the Victorian era.

Her face was squarer than mine had been, but not unattractively so. Her cheeks were themselves slim, but rounded out by the solid shape of her jaw. Her lips... were an odd shade of raspberry, and plump. Her eyes were brown, and made a striking contrast to the shimmering waves of hair that cascaded around her shoulders.

The hair that fell heavily around her shoulders was a shade of grey that shifted every time I moved.

Where the afternoon sun hit it, it looked like molten silver, or thread that had been woven from moonlight.

Where it lay across my left shoulder, which was in shadow, its appearance was that of steel wool.

This was so odd. What did- Never mind. I couldn't even begin to process this right now.

'How long was I unconscious?'

'Two days, Sophie.'

This reply came from the unfamiliar woman's voice that I had heard.

I pulled my gaze away from the mirror with some difficulty to look in the direction that her voice had been coming from.

She stood to my right, an imposing middle-aged woman wearing an outfit matched in strangeness only by that of Professor Dumbledore. While he wore what seemed to be a midnight blue dressing gown embroidered with golden moons and silver suns, she wore a purple dressing gown and a witches hat that seemed to have been taken straight out of my childhood books.

'Who are you?', I blurted out, immediately conscious of how rude that sounded. If Professor Dumbledore was any indicator, these people were more than a little old-fashioned, so it wouldn't do to speak too rashly.

'I am Professor McGonagall. Head of Gryffindor House.'

The woman gave a cough at these words, and straightened her already stiff posture.

I think Professor Dumbledore had mentioned Gryffindor House. It wasn't the one that I was supposed to join. I was going to be joining the snake one- Slithery?

The woman gave me a sharp look before beginning to speak again.

'While you were unconscious, Professor Dumbledore and I created a back story that you will need to learn before the other students arrive tomorrow. You will be Sophia Nagornichna, recently discovered heiress to the ancient Nagornichna estate of Russia. The Nagornichna estate is pureblood, and was until now considered lost. You have been living in hiding with your servants for the past seventeen years, waiting until the dark lord rose again.'

'The dark lord? As in... Lord Voldemort?,'

She flinched at the name, then nodded sharply.

'He's … the really evil guy, right?'

She sighed, and looked despairingly towards Professor Dumbledore.

'Albus, I can't do this.'

She spoke in a tone at once upset and affronted.

'The girl doesn't know who He Who Must Not Be Named is. She only found out that magic existed four days ago, and she has spent two of those days unconscious. How on earth will she convince them that she is the cream of Russian pureblood society?'

'She will manage, Minerva.'

'You're setting her up for certain failure.'

Dumbledore's blue eyes, normally so calm, seemed to blaze with fury as he stared at Professor McGonagall, saying, thunderously

'She has magical abilities far beyond those of most witches her age. Do you really believe that I would sacrifice a child in such a foolish way? If you are not willing to have a part in this, then I ask that you leave and mention this to no one.'

His gaze softened as he continued, more quietly,

'I will not think the worse of you for it.'

The woman stared back at him for a moment before nodding once more and walking briskly out of the room.

The white-haired wizard watched her leave, and, turning back to me, assumed the same placid gaze as before. He smiled gently, an eerie sight after the argument that had just taken place, and said with great seriousness,

'Miss Nagornichna, If you are feeling capable of doing so, I would like to instruct you on the manners and history of wizarding society. With a basic knowledge of those subjects, good observation, and caution when befriending any members of Slytherin house, you should be able to fit in to the right social circles with no trouble.'