Disclaimer: I own nothing that is vaguely recognizable. That, as we know, belongs to the fabulous ms J..
Authors Note: It's been a while since I have written a fic so I would really appreciate reviews J Thanks!
The morning radio show announcer's cheery voice caused fourteen year old Maggie Dell to glare at the obnoxious little box. Sometimes when she was annoyed or upset in some way, odd things would happen. But as much as she tried, the radio kept playing, reminding her that her last day if the ninth grade was waiting for her to get to school. She groaned and pushed herself up on her elbows. It was the last day, she told herself. She didn't need to be there. She threw a stuffed animal at the clock, knocking it off her dresser. The impact against the floor made it fall silent at last. Gratefully, Maggie sank back into her bed and closed her eyes, inviting sleep to claim her once more.
"Maggie? Are you awake yet? You need to get up, Maggie!" The girl let out an exasperated sigh. Of course her mother would choose to wake her up. She was always the most insistant on the mornings Maggie could have used more sleep. She had had weird dreams again. There was a tree, a hooded figure, and an old man with a long white beard, half-moon glasses, and the bluest eyes you could ever see on a person. "Margaret Elise Dell! Get your butt out of bed right NOW!"
"OKAY!" She yelled back. "Good lord, mother! It's not like the house is on fire or something!"
"You watch the way you talk to me!" Her mother scolded from behind the door. "Hurry up. You have an important visitor." Maggie's intrest was caught. She lept out of bed and flung the door open revealing her mother standing there, hands on her hips.
"A visitor?" Maggie asked. "But I have school…"
"You wont be going today." Maggie's eyes widened in surprise. "Just come down stairs please. Quickly." Maggie tossed on a pair of jeans and tank top and sprinted down the stairs, two at a time. When she got to the sitting room she stopped dead in her tracks, seeing the strangers. The one that caught her attention was a tall man dressed well in a black suit. She would have thought he was a funeral home director if not for the bright purple bow tie spangled with lime green stars. Behind him was the largest man she had ever seen. The first man turned his head towards her and Maggie's breath caught in her throat. He had a long white beard, startling blue eyes, and half-moon glasses. He was the man from her dreams.
"I know you!" She blurted. He mother's eyes widened.
"Albus-" Her mother began.
"Dumbledore." Maggie finished. "Your name is Albus Dumbledore." The man with the bow tie smiled.
"Albus, please." Maggie's mother began again. "It can't be safe."
"What's not safe?" Maggie asked.
"Andora, you knew this day would come. She began her training at Hogwarts and she should finish it there."
"What's Hogwarts? A school?"
"You know what happens when young witches and wizards are untrained."
"Witch? I'm a witch?"
"But, Albus! He is still out there!"
"Who are you talking about?"
"She will be safe at Hogwarts. You know that!"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Maggie yelled. "What is going on!" A light bulb shattered, making her mother jump. Dumbledore sent a meaningful glance to her. Both adults looked at Maggie waiting for her to continue. "Please," she began again, meekly this time. "I just want to know what's going on."
"You, my dear, are a witch." Dumbledore explained. "Your name is Rhona Drake." Maggie blinked then started laughing.
"And you are a nutter. My name is Maggie Dell. I'm a ninth grader at Semper High. Witches aren't real." She looked at her mother who was wearing a very guilty look. "Right, Mom?" No answer. "M-mom?" Her mother sniffed.
"It's true, love." She answered quietly. "Your name IS Rhona Drake. Your father's name was Harown Drake. He was an auror for the Ministry of Magic. He did not die in a plane crash. He was murdered by the death eaters that follow Lord Voldemort."
CRASH
Maggie, or Rhona as she just found out, stumbled backwards into the end table, shattering a lamp on the cold linolium floor. That name her mother said…it was like a punch in the face. She knew that name. Andora pulled a thin rod out of an inner pocket of her long sweater. She pointed it at the broken lamp.
"Reparo." The many pieces pulled together as if they were magnets and the lamp restored itself to its place on the table. Rhona took a deep breath.
"Why don't I remember any of this?" she asked quietly.
"A very powerful, very precise, memory charm that I placed on you. I made sure that it would be able to be removed when the time was right and only by myself as the caster." Dumbledore responded with a twinkle in his eye.
"So you are saying that I can do magic or whatever that was?" she asked, waving a hand at the lamp. Dumbledore nodded. "And you are saying that unless I come with you to Hogswallow-"
"Hogwarts."
"Whatever. I can only remember my life…my REAL life…is if I go to this school place." Another nod. "Well, why did I leave anyway?" She asked suddenly.
"You will know when you get your memory back." Dumbledore answered. "It's really not a subject any of us should discuss outside the walls of Hogwarts." Rhona sighed.
"Where is this place anyway?"
"In Scotland." Rhona raised an eyebrow in surprise. That was a big difference from sunny California in the good ol' USA.
"Well, I've always wanted to travel…" She joked half-heartedly. She glanced at her mother who gave her an encouraging nod.
"Does that mean you will return with us?"
"Do I really have a choice?"
"None, whatsoever." Dumbledore responded with a chuckle.
