It was Tuesday again. A week passed the day Harry levitated that pencil. Today, Harry was skipping school. Her first time doing that. It was worth it.

She was going to the police station. She's read in a book that the station was the place to go for help, especially if you were lost. And since she didn't know how to get where she was going, she considered herself lost.

The station in the town where they lived was small. To Harry, it seemed homely and kind, if a little bit imposing. There were large glass doors in the front reception area.

The inside was a bit stinky. A musty sort of smell, like old people. The cushions on the chairs were worn. There was a strange-looking man in the corner. But the receptionist, seated behind a desk, seemed kind.

"Can I help you, honey?" She asked when Harry walked in.

"Yes please," Said Harry, feeling only a little unsure if this was the best plan, "I'm trying to find a school - they sent me this letter. There's no phone number or anything, or even a return address. I'm not sure if you can help me, but if you could, that'd be great."

Harry handed over her letter. She had extras, one even in her shoe, so it wasn't all too precious.

The woman's face was confused, then sympathetic and kind. She handed Harry back her letter with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, dear, but I don't think your school exists. Someone might have played a prank on you. Where are your parents, darling? Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"I'm home-schooled." Harry said, "My mom said I could take a break to go see you about this. We live really close, so I walked."

None of that was true. She'd taken the bus and dodged questions in a similar way. She felt only a little guilty saying 'mom'. And she didn't like all the many pet names the woman called her.

The woman shrugged, "I'm afraid I can't help you, sweet pea. I'm sorry to be the one to tell this, but magic doesn't exist in the real world."

"Yes it does!" Harry cried, blushing a bright red at her own outburst. The teachers had always said she was quiet and polite, but not as mature as she should be. That was why. For believing in magic and acting so childish. She calmed her voice, "Yes, it does. I levitated a pencil in class. And other times, too, when I really little, I made things fly!" Harriet was certainly immature, because she felt her eyes tear up a little. Her thoughts flew back to all the other kids calling her a crybaby. A crybaby she certainly was. Childish and useless.

The woman seemed amused with her distress, but kept a kind and quiet voice, "Then why don't you levitate a pencil now for me, darling?"

She indicated a wooden pencil, sitting on the desk.

"I - I can't." Harry said, looking down, ashamed. The woman smiled at her, but returned to typing.

Harry was frustrated. She was acting childish again, she knew it. The world really wasn't fair. This was her chance, she needed to find that school, or she'd never be able to - well, do all the things she wanted and meet all the people and have adventures and make friends.

Harry squinted hard at the pencil. The pencil was her enemy. If she could only make it move. She concentrated as hard as she could. Move. Move.

She was focusing with all her energy. It even started to hurt - badly! Move! She commanded in her mind.

Mo - !

With a terrific sound, the pencil rocketed violently into the air and flew straight to the ceiling. It took out the light above and showered Harry and the receptionist in sparks. The noise was incredible - like a real rocket.

When Harry looked up, the remains of the light were hanging unevenly. The glass had broken and fallen - thankfully not cutting anyone. And the pencil was left a splinter of wood and lead lodged in the ceiling.

"Woah!" Called out the strange man in the corner. Harry had forgotten about him. She ignored him and turned to the receptionist.

"I told you I could do magic." She said, indignantly. Then she remembered the light. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't, well, mean to..." She pointed up sheepishly.

"That's incredible!" Said the woman, "How... in any case, I still can't help you, child. I don't know about any Hogwarts school. Never heard of any such place in my life."

"I do." Said the man, "Are you trying to find Hogwarts, little girl?"

Harry whirled around in joy and excitement, the broken light forgotten. "I am! Do you know it? Is it real?"

The man laughed, "Yes, it's real! I think there must have been some mistake. Did you receive a letter, just like everyone else?"

"I don't know about everyone else, but I got a letter." Harry nodded rapidly. She ran over to show the strange man. He was dressed rather shabbily too, with a strange fashion sense. He had a feather spotted with ink tucked behind his ear and carried a bag made of weird-looking leather.

When the man read her letter, his eyes lit up in a strange way.

"What... what is your first name, kid?"

"Harriet." Harry said.

The man seemed astonished. He looked her up and down in amazement. Harry didn't think she was very remarkable to look at. She had bright red hair, kept in a sloppy ponytail, and boring white skin and boring hazel eyes - really, the only thing interesting was her hair and her glasses.

The man whispered under his breath, barely loud enough for Harry to hear. "The spitting image of Lily Potter... and her father's eyes... can't be... can it? The Girl Who Lived."

Harry quirked her eyebrows, "Sorry, what?"

The man shook his head, "Never mind, Harry - can I call you Harry? - I'll explain that later. My parking tickets, I think, can wait. Obliviate!"

The unknown last word the man said loudly, whilst in one smooth motion taking a wood piece out of his coat and pointing it at the receptionist. Before she could respond in kind with, say, a pistol, there was a burst of light and she was left with unusually blank eyes.

"Memory erase charm." The man said, smirking at Harry, "It's illegal to tell muggles - uh, non-magical people - about our world. Here, come along."

He turned and left. Harry didn't hesitate to follow him, though her mind reminded her of storybook lessons like 'don't talk to strangers'. It was fine, she supposed, since he seemed to know her, and that made them not strangers.

He took her out behind the station. Harry was a little wary, but followed. What else could she do?

"I'm about to do a bit of magic. Don't want to be somewhere folks can see us."

Harry nodded. It was logical.

He was indicating with his little stick, towards her. It seemed that was what made the magic happen. Though, Harry had cast magic without it - perhaps it was a tool for control, maybe? With two more strange words, he fixed her glasses and shrunk her clothing to fit her. It was amazing! He chuckled at her reaction.

"There's a lot more magic than that out there." He said.

"Could you teach me a spell?" Harry asked eagerly, "That's what those word's you're saying are, right? Spells?"

Her ignorance really did seem to amuse him. "That's what school is for! But sure. What you did in there, with the pencil. That's Wingardium Leviosa, powered up just a bit. Give it a try, what don't ya, then I'll take you to Hogwarts, Harry. Ah - and my name's Johnathan. Good to meet you, miss."

Hogwarts! "Johnathan. Wingardium Leviosa." Harry said. Nothing happened. She didn't expect it to, she hadn't directed it at anything.

"Wingardium Leviosa. Pronunciation's important, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Wingardium Leviosa." She tried again, aiming her thoughts at a piece of rubbish. Nothing happened. "Wingardium Leviosa," She said again, remembering to be patient with herself.

Like a little rocket, the tin can flew up towards the sky.

"Woah, woah, woah." Johnathan said, using his wand (she assumed) to bring it back down to earth, "That's some power you've got there, Harry. Try to hold it in a little next time. Wouldn't want any muggles seeing that."

"I suppose not." Said Harry.

"Try again." Johnathan said.

Harry nodded. This would require focus, she felt. She stared down the tin can, making silent insults towards its tin can family and its tin can hairdo, before saying those oh-so magical words one more time.

"Wingardium Leviosa." The can shivered, but rose, far far slower, like the first time she had moved a pencil. Holding it that way was much more difficult that throwing it into the air. She let it drop, feeling tired.

"Very good, Harry. You'll be a great witch, someday! Already you're far past what I could do, and I grew up magic."

Harry was immensely pleased under his praise.

"Now," Said Johnathan, his tone suddenly much more serious, "I can get you to Hogwarts through Apparition - that's, uh, teleportation, basically. But moving this way can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. I don't want you to try what I'm about to do later, okay? You have to be supervised by a teacher. Promise?"

"Promise." Harry said. How exciting!

"One more thing," Johnathan said, "You must make sure to hold onto me very, very tightly. Even if you think you might be hurting me, you hold on tight, okay? Until we're on the other side."

"Okay," Said Harry, nodding. She was getting the idea that not all magic was this easy.

Johnathan put her arm into his and Harry gripped it as tightly as she could while making sure to not use up all her strength at once.

"Ready." She said.

Without much warning, Harry had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed through a tube and shook through the air at the same time. It didn't last very long, but when she felt solid ground beneath her feet her knees trembled and she felt queasy.

Johnathan gave her a sympathetic smile, "You'll get used to that." He turned, "Now... Hogwarts."

Despite feeling dizzy, Harry looked up from the ground. She gasped as soon as her eyes caught sight of it. A castle unlike any she'd ever seen.

It was huge! And beautiful! All stone bricks, with pointed roofs, high towers...

"That's Hogwarts?" She asked in awe.

"Yes," Johnathan said, "That's Hogwarts."