It's my first "published" fanfiction and it's mostly OCs, but I promise the plotline is worth it! Please R&R!

I spent the night in one of the guest bedrooms – an elegant, European-mansion style room that is too stereo-typical to describe. I couldn't have slept long – it was late when I witnessed the murder and I had been unconscious for a period of time. But there was a sharp crack beside me that had me bolted upright in miliseconds, searching the darkness.

I was met with a pair of wide-orbed eyes at a squeaky voice. "Master Cormac needs you!"

I squinted in the dim light. It was – I reminded myself I shouldn't be surprised – a house-elf. I guess they must work for things… other than humans as well, I thought. I would have thought that magical creatures wouldn't enslave each other, but then I remembered the books. Hermonie had struggled to create S.P.E.W. because the house-elves wanted to serve. I shook my head, trying to focus. "Ok," I said, getting to my feet. The house-elf scampered to the door and I followed as quickly as I could, trying to straighten my wrinkled clothes and bed hair, with little success.

The house-elf opened a door on the right and gestured for me to enter. I walked in and found the dark-haired man again, surrounded by a pile of boxes, his neat suit in sharp contrast to my bedraggled jeans and t-shirt. He surveyed me, his eyes once again amused, then gestured around him. "These are all your possessions from your apartment," he said. "Take what you need – the rest will be disposed of."

"What will my roommates think?" I asked, scowling at him. "And my parents? They're supposed to arrive in two days to help me move out."

"If you are a witch, your school will inform your parents that you've accepted some internship," he said smoothly. "If not, I'll place your possessions back where they belong and no one will notice they were missing in the first place. At least if your roommates are as hung-over as they were when I saw them this morning," he added, eyeing me strangely. "Tell me, why were you sitting alone instead of getting drunk like the rest of your teenage companions?"

I gave him a flat look. "Do I really need to answer that?"

His eyes narrowed. "It would be in your best interest to not speak to me in that tone," he said coldly.

I didn't back down. "The information is not necessary for you and your rebellion, so I'd appreciate it if I could keep personal information personal." I raised my chin. I could see the anger stewing in his eyes, but there was a grudging acceptance in there too. He couldn't deny the logic.

At last, he inclined his head. "I'm sure you have your reasons," he said. He really was a master at mocking me – I had to resist the urge to scream at his talk-to-the-child tone. I turned to the boxes and began shuffling through them. He watched me for a few moments, then left.

I hated the idea of his "disposing" of my stuff, but I guessed it wouldn't be wise to argue that issue with him. I was still just glad that he was letting me wear my clothes. I pulled what I knew I needed from the boxes – clothes, shoes, toiletries – leaving everything else, from books to blankets, behind. I was about to pick them up when the house-elf showed up, dragging a suitcase behind him. "Master Cormac says put your stuff in here," he said.

I nodded and did as told. The house-elf stood to the side, then took the suitcase when I had finished, pulling it with ease despite the weight. "Follow me," he said.

The house-elf led me to the room I had arrived in. Cormac was standing beside the fireplace, fiddling with the lid of a small container. He glanced up when he saw me and made a dismissive gesture to the house-elf. "Take your suitcase and get ready in there," he said, pointing towards a door. "And make it quick, human."

I bristled. I didn't like being called "human," but then I remembered that I hadn't told him my name. "It's Erin," I said, picking up the suitcase.

He raised an eyebrow. "I know," he said. I paused, half-way to the door. "Your ID fell out of your pocket when you were tied to the chair."

I gritted my teeth, feeling embarrassed for some reason, and marched into the bathroom. When I returned – showered and in clean clothes – Cormac held out the container. "Flew powder," he said. I fought again to hide my excitement. "The location is the American Department of Magical Analysis." He gave me a sharp look. "Don't," he said in a dangerous voice, "get lost."

I swallowed and took a pinch, then threw it into the fire. The flames sparked green. My heart practically danced. Magic! my mind sang. Magic, magic, magic! I fought to keep the grin off my face. "American Department of Magical Analysis," I said before stepping into the flames.

I had a friend in high school that enjoyed grabbing my backpack behind and dragging me across the hallway while I struggled to find my feet. Using flew powder felt kind of like that, except the directions twisted at incredible speed. When I finally was spat out of the fireplace, I felt like I was going to be sick. I think I'll prefer brooms, I thought, getting to my feet.

I had arrived in an average looking office. Exceptionally average, actually – the flat, blue carpet, the white walls, the whining lights, the faded red chairs, the reception desk with a goldfish bowl… The only things that were unusual about it was the fireplace itself and the quill that continued to write while the receptionist stood up to greet me. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

"Umm…"

"I'm afraid not," Cormac said, stepping from the fireplace. "I discovered her yesterday. This woman passed my barrier as I was entertaining a wizard friend and witnessed some magic. The barrier was only to prevent muggles from entering, so I guessed she might have magical power."

So that's the story, I thought, pressing my lips together.

The woman glanced down at the desk, then pulled out her wand and tapped the goldfish bowl. The goldfish vanished. "If Ms. Hall is done with her appointment, you will be able to squeeze in before nine-thirty," she said, watching the bowl. The fish suddenly swam back into sight and continued around in its circle. She waved her wand and a door opened on her left. "Go on in," she said.

I followed Cormac into the room. The door closed behind us and a woman – her brown hair streaked with grey – stood up to greet us. "Cormac son of Dara," he said, bowing grandly to her. "This is my friend, Erin Marwick."

She shook his hand and then reached for mine. "I apparently broke through his barrier," I started to say.

"I heard," she said, gesturing to a bowl on her desk. "The goldfish absorbs the details of the exchange between guests and my receptionist. There's no need to repeat it. Have a seat."

Feeling foolish, I sat down, slightly hunched while Cormac sat in his own seat as if it were a throne. "I'm willing to sponsor her," he said. "She told me about her college situation and she has been working for her tuition. I'll aid her if she has enough magic to get into a school."

How did you…? We didn't have that conversation! I kept my face blank, even while my mind raged at him.

"Hmm." She surveyed me. "So she just broke through your barrier? That doesn't suggest anything about the amount of power she might have."

"Which is why I brought her here," he said.

She pursed her lips, then opened a drawer on her desk. Her hand came up holding what appeared to be a small crystal ball. "Here," she said, holding it out to me. I took it uncertainly. It fit perfectly in my palm. "Hold it with both hands and focus your energy into it."

Puzzled, I pressed my hands over it and tried to concentrate. But my mind wandered. Do I want to have magic? I thought. If I have it, I'll have to help Cormac. If I don't, I'll be thrown in front of a car. How can I do this anyway? It feels like it's just glass. My heart pounded. I don't have magic – I can't have it. It's not working. I–

Hands suddenly came down on my shoulders behind me. I jumped and started to turn. "Stay seated," Cormac said calmly.

Ms. Hall looked at him. "It will disrupt the flow if you're touching her," she said calmly.

His hands vanished, but he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Close your eyes, Erin."

I swallowed and did as he said.

"Believe you have magic, even if just for this moment. Cast out your doubts and focus inside."

I breathed in, searching. There was something there, something warm, but it felt too familiar. Perhaps it was just energy, something I could tap into when I was struggling during a morning job or through a late-night paper. Stop, I told myself. Just pretend. At least for now. I took a deep breath and let the energy fill me.

"Now focus the magic. Directed it into the crystal, with your hands or your mind, whatever lets it flow."

I felt a strange sort of release as I let the energy pour towards my hands. Then the energy increased, building inside. I let my hands drift, cupping the crystal from below as I let the magic flow, seeping into the crystal. The warmth was building and I felt some sort of tension in my body, like the excitement before the gunshot of a race, like the last step on a diving board before the free-fall, like–

"Enough." Ms. Hall's voice was sharp enough to halt my concentration, but not enough to startle me. "Open your eyes."

I did. The crystal in my hand had grown, almost to the size of a beach ball. I gazed at it in awe. Energy – magic – was spiraling inside it, changing in every shade of color, darting and flowing and crackling before me.

"If I had let her continue, it would have popped," she said, looking over at Cormac, who was now standing next to me. They exchanged a look. "I'll send out letters immediately. I assume you want only the top schools?"

Cormac inclined his head. "Of course."

She nodded and picked up her wand from the desk, waving it so that several quills began writing at once. "You probably won't even need to support her financially," she said, busy with her wand even as she waved us towards the door. "That much potential… She'll have a scholarship for sure." She paused and looked up. "Margaret – my receptionist – will deal with the payment. I doubt that the responses will take more than an hour, so please wait in the front room."

"What did I just do?" I asked softly when the door closed behind us.

Cormac glanced at me, then looked away. "It's a system they've had in for about ten years," he explained. He handed over three gold coins to the receptionist, then sat down. Hesitantly, I took the chair beside him. "Once any magical ability is exhibited in a human, they are tested by this department for magical potential, or the amount of raw magic you have within you. Those with more raw magic will be able to cast more powerful and complex spells. It is usually quite accurate." He stared thoughtfully at the wall. "Although your potential is a great deal higher than most humans."

"Is… Fair Folk potential higher?" I asked in a low voice.

He turned to me slowly. While his face was calm, his eyes were livid, burning with fury. "I was able to be tested because I was half-Folk, half-human," he said, his voice quiet enough that the secretary could not overhear. "Most magical creatures, as they call us, are not able to even own a wand, let alone have their magic assessed. Even though," and at this his eyes sparked with undeniable power, "our magic often far surpasses that of human magic."

I hadn't noticed how far I had pushed myself from him until he looked away. I was literally gripping the arm of the chair, as if it could somehow protect me from an angry Fair Folk, although I still wasn't quite sure what a Fair Folk was.

The fireplace suddenly blazed into life again. The receptionist glanced up. "Do you have–" Then she stood up, startled. "Headmistress!" she said in surprise. "How can I help you?"

A tall woman had stepped from the flames, her hair crisp, her mouth in a tight line. "I received a most interesting letter," she said to the receptionist. "I have come to inquire about its validity." She caught sight of me and approached, holding out a hand. I stood uncertainly and took it. "Are you Erin Marwick?" she asked, her piercing eyes looking me over.

I nodded, at a loss for words. This woman was rather intimidating, and she seemed a bit… familiar. Cormac watched from his seat, his eyes amused, poised, waiting for my reaction.

"I am Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."