Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Sorry for the very long delay. Please review – it will remind me to write!

Thanks to Fang, Wolfie and Needles for all the crazy ideas! Also thanks to Marauder0103.

Please Read & Review!

Cloak flapping behind him, Albus Dumbledore strode along a street lined with watery grey blocks of building in his sapphire cloak, blue robes and silvery beard, tucked neatly into his belt.

It had stopped raining, but a damp mist lingered in the air. The gloomy street was deserted, save for a few solemn figures trudging along the pavement in the distance.

Dumbledore stopped in front of a dark building, barred by a tall gate bearing the words 'Hann's Orphanage' in a fresh coat of paint. He looked up at the words and frowned, but pushed the gate open, flaky paint falling off its hinges. It groaned to a shut behind him as he walked quickly up to the main door. From behind murky windows, small, pale faces peered at him, but ducked away when he caught their eyes.

He reached the door, and looked up at the sorry, dilapidated building, tilting his head to one side, as though listening to it. After a few seconds, he lifted a grubby knocker and banged it against the door.

A shuffling sound came from behind the door, and it swung open. Rowan beamed up at him, and beckoned him inside.

The hallway was sparsely lit, and shadows seeped in from the walls. From deeper inside the building came a high-pitched crying of a baby, and the yells of young children. The children he had seen at the window poked their heads around the doorway of an adjoining room and gazed unabashedly at the unfamiliar splash of colour. One little boy, barely waist-height, glanced down at his uniform grey shirt and trousers, and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide them.

Skipping, a young girl in a black pinafore rounded the corner, singing at the top of her lungs;

"Fly away, fly away, Little baby,

Jump on my broom and fly away with me.

Fly away, fly away, And don't you worry,

I'll take you to a place where you'll never be lonely.

Fly away, fly away, And everybody,

In Hogwarts will be just like you and me."

Rowan glanced at Dumbledore out of the corner of her eye and knelt down next to the girl.

"Katie, you can't sing that, remember? I told you – you'll get into trouble."

"But I like singing it."

"I know Katie, but no-one else can know our little secret, remember?"

"But one day I'll go to Hogwarts with you?"

Rowan sighed, and lifted Katie into her arms, who buried her head in Rowan's hair.

"You will, you will, but not yet. You know that." Katie lifted her head and stared wide eyed at Dumbledore, who smiled kindly. Rowan gently placed her down, and turned to Dumbledore. "I'm sorry," she said hurriedly," it's just she made her plate levitate one breakfast, and was so lonely that I-"

A tall young maid with an outbreak of freckles had stomped around the corner, arms laden with sheets. At the sight of Dumbledore, standing out like a cartoon character against the gloomy hallway, her mouth flopped open. Slowly she took in his buckled boots, old-fashioned golden timepiece and blue shimmering robes and turned to Rowan.

"Who's this?"

"Good morning. I am Albus Dumbledore. I believe I have an appointment with Mrs Hann?" The maid dumped her sheets, and Dumbledore shook her hand.

"Right," she said warily, before shouting over her shoulder," MRS HANN, THERE'S SOMEONE 'ERE FOR YOU." She then picked up her washing and walked off, with a single questioning glance over her shoulder, scolding the peering children as she disappeared.

Half a minute later, a stout woman with her hand son her hips rounded the corner. Her mousy hair was stretched into a bun, and she glared at them. She wore a striped dress underneath a smart grey jacket, and high-heeled boots, which only made it obvious how short she was.

She eyed Dumbledore's eccentric appearance, and looked monetarily taken back, as though someone had slapped her. Then she scowled, sniffed at his handshake said "Finally 'ere, are you?"

Good morning. I assume you are Mrs Hann? My am Albus Dumbl-"

"Yes, yes," snapped Mrs Hann," I know who you are." She glowered at Rowan and added under her breath, on the pretence it was too quiet for anyone to make out;

"I don't see that many weirdoes."

Rowan flushed, and her gaze flickered towards Dumbledore, who had raised his eyebrows.

"You had better follow me then," and she strode off expectantly.

"Sorry about her," whispered Rowan as they followed Mrs Hann.

"Oh, don't worry," said Dumbledore, a hint of amusement in his voice.

They stopped outside a tall oak door, distinguishable as Mrs Hann's office because it was the only clean door they had passed. Mrs Hann grunted, and sung open the door with such force that it hit the wall. She marched in.

The office was almost bare, with a single window facing the brick wall of the adjoining house. A stern desk occupied the centre of the room, with a tall-backed chair on one side, and two simple wooden ones opposite. On the desk stood a single ink-pot and pen, a neat stack of paperwork and a cup of tea. Lurking in the corner of the room was a glass-panelled cabinet, empty except for a single dusty certificate and a few dusty glass goblets.

Mrs Hann drew the black curtains and turned up the overhead light, which buzzed in protest.

"Sit down," she gestured gruffly, and stopped when she saw Rowan still lingering at the door.

"Well? What are you doing here?" Rowan opened her mouth to reply, but Mrs Hann cut her off," Go do some chores, girl," and slammed the door roughly in her face, before turning back to Dumbledore. He had wandered over to the glass cabinet and was examining the contents.

"Forgive me for asking," he said," but has this orphanage always gone under the name of Hann?"

"No, some time back it was Wool's Orphanage. But they went broke, didn't they? And I brought this miserable place. Why'd you ask?"

"I once saw a student, some years ago now at Wool's Orphanage," said Dumbledore.

"Anyway, Mrs Hann, I am here to discuss Rowan's new school – Hogwarts-"

"Hogwash? Silly name for a school," interrupted Mrs Hann

Suddenly a shrill, terrified scream reverberated around the room, and they both started. Dumbledore stood up quickly and Mrs Hann stomped to the door and flung it open. She reeled back in shock.

Katie's feet had stuck to the ceiling; her hair streaming out below her gave her the appearance of a small doll someone had glued to the ceiling. Her mouth was open in an endless scream, staring petrified at several older boys standing rooted to the spot underneath her, their fingers grasping the empty air where Katie should have been.

Mrs Hann's eyes bulged. There was perfect silence.

"Katie dear," said Dumbledore softly," take my hand, good girl. Let's get you down now."

He drew out his wand and lowered Katie to the ground, still frozen stiff.

Swivelling her head from Katie to Dumbledore, Mrs Hann mouth fell open, but only a strangled croak came out.

Rowan came clattering around the corner, skidding to a stop at the sight of the petrified figures.

"What happened?" she gasped.

"Katie had a little accident," said Dumbledore gently, as Katie flung herself at Rowan, "if you could...?"

Rowan nodded, cast a meaningful glance at Mrs Hann and the orphanage boys, carried a shaking Katie along the hallway, and vanished from sight. Rowan's appearance seemed to have triggered something inside Mrs Hann, and, supporting herself on the doorway, she rounded on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore carefully drew out his wand and pointed it at the boys.

"Obliverate," he said softly, as Mrs Hann finally regained the use of her voice.

"What," she said, dangerously quietly," was tha-"

"Obliverate."

Mrs Hann's face fell slack, her eyes rolled backwards and she swayed slightly like she was onboard a ship. After a few seconds she took a clumsy step forwards and almost tripped. The boys in the hall blinked, dazed, and slowly realised they were grasping thin air.

"Wha-," said Mrs Hann groggily," What are we... where...?"

"I believe you were just about to invite me into your office to discuss Rowan."

"Oh... oh yeah. Yeah," she caught sight of the boys, and her dizzy expression swiftly morphed into an angry mask.

"What are you doing here then? Can't you hear me? GO!"

She strode, slightly haphazardly, into her study and slammed the door.

"I am here to discuss Rowan's new school," began Dumbledore as soon as Mrs Hann had navigated her way to her seat.

"Yes, yes..." said Mrs Hann, sitting up straighter," what was its name again?"

"Hogwarts."

"Bogwart?"

"Hogwarts. Rowan will need to be driven to the King's Cross Station on the 1st of September to catch a train leaving at 11 o'clock. She-"explained Dumbledore, but Mrs Hann suddenly cut across him.

"No – no, I don't think that will work. Rowan will not be attending Hogwash, or whatever your school is. You see, this orphanage gets paid, a considerable amount actually," she laughed mirthlessly," for each pupil that we teach in our school oursel-" she stopped, realising she had probably revealed too much.

"I see," said Dumbledore, his voice cold. He slowly reached into the folds of his cloak and drew his wand under the table.

"Well, as I said… I have only her best interests at heart-" blundered Mrs Hann. With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, Mrs Hann's eyes swam out of focus. She muttered to herself "But I suppose it would be one less mouth to feed…"

"Where do I drop her off?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"At King's Cross Station, on the 1st of September in time to catch a train at 11 o'clock."

"Yes, yes… of course," she said," Anything else I need to know?"

"Rowan will have to return here in the summer holidays, but may stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas and Easter holidays if she wishes," said Dumbledore.

"Keep her," said Mrs Hann," It'll be much less bother if she stays there over Easter and Christmas. Is that all?"

"Yes, although she will of course need uniform and books –"

"I'm not paying for a lot of useless junk she's never going to need-"said Mrs Hann indigently.

"But, as I was saying, the school have a trust fund for students."

"Oh."

"Well, that is that then. I believe I am taking Rowan into London to buy her books and uniform," said Dumbledore, rising. Mrs Hann nodded curtly.

Dumbledore opened the door and paused. He looked back at Mrs Hann.

"In a few years I think a young girl by the name of Katie may also be eligible for a place at Hogwarts," he remarked

"Oh?"

"I believe she has some of the qualities we look for in our students. Goodbye," said Dumbledore.

He shut the door and emerged in the gloomy corridor. Rowan sat on the dusty floor opposite the office, sketching an eye into the layer of grime on the floor, and her head snapped up when Dumbledore entered. She jumped up and rubbed out the drawing with her foot.

"Is everything alright?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes, she doesn't remember anything," replied Dumbledore, as Rowan held open the front door," How is little Katie?"

"A little shocked, but I explained everything to her. She's asleep on my bed."

"Good. How old is she?"

"About seven or eight – she was left on the doorstep of the Orphanage when she was about two." They walked in silence in the cold, bleak air to the end of the road. Rowan pulled out a small worn rucksack, and pulled out a thick black cloak. She glanced at Dumbledore.

"It's and Extension Charm, and not really allowed but..."

"I never saw anything," said Dumbledore simply.

They turned the corner, and the Orphanage slid out of sight. Rowan visibly brightened, she smiled nervously and walked more quickly along the never-ending maze pavement, as though the sky was suddenly empty of clouds.

"Where are we Apperating?"

"Just – here should be fine," replied Dumbledore, guiding Rowan into a dark brick alleyway, plastered with torn posters and littered with rubbish.

"Have you Apperated much before?" asked Dumbledore.

"Only a couple of times," said Rowan.

"Right, grab onto my arm," said Dumbledore, and Rowan grasped his offered arm.

"On the count of three... one, two... three," and they spun into blackness

Rowan it felt like they had just looped-the-loop on a rollercoaster while spinning horribly round and round. She forgot to breathe, and almost threw up. Leaning on Dumbledore, she opened her eyes, and the world materialised around her

They were standing outside a greasy pub, with gold lettering spelling out The Leaky Cauldron in a road full of bustling Muggles, who were walking past it like it wasn't there. It was dingy and grimy, and Rowan just hoped the inside was nicer than the uninviting exterior.

"In here," said Dumbledore, and they walked inside.

Inside the Leaky Cauldron wasn't much cleaner or brighter, but it made up for it with its bustling atmosphere. Groups of hearty wizards sat around tables, drinking an orange bubbly liquid, and Rowan heard a wizard order "Another Firewhisky Tom!"

From behind a dusty counter, a bald man stopped aimlessly wiping the grime of glass bottles with an even dirtier rag, reached behind him, and slid another bottle of Firewhisky over the counter.

The low murmur of chatter faltered when Dumbledore strode through the pub, gleaming against the shadows, and curious faces peered his way.

"Albus, Albus!" said Tom happily; smiling so wide the few teeth he had left gleamed from the oil lamps. All around the pub people were smiling and nodding at Dumbledore, and occasionally raising a glass to him. Slowly the conversations started back up again.

"Albus, you won't believe who came through here about an hour ago!" said Tom excitedly.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows politely.

"Harry Potter! In my pub!"

Heads snapped round at the name, and Rowan, hiding slightly behind Dumbledore, wondered who he was.

Harry Potter... the name didn't ring any bells. For the first time, she realised how much she had to catch up on in the wizarding world.

"Good," said Dumbledore," Hagrid's on time." But Tom was already recounting the whole story to the witches and wizards around the pub peppering him with questions.

"Out here, Rowan," said Dumbledore, pulling Rowan into a tiny littered courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron.

He raised his wand, and tapped a brick on the wall, muttering "three up and... two across".

The brick quivered and slid out of sight, as the hole grew bigger and bigger until it resembled an archway leading too... Diagon Alley.

Before them a narrow alleyway wriggled into the distance, crooked buildings piled haphazardly onto of each other, jutting over the cobbled street. Cluttered shop windows screamed for attention, signs reading The Magical Menagerie, Flourish and Blotts, Cauldrons of all Shapes and Sizes and Quality Quidditch Supplies swung above their shops. Cages, cauldrons and crates spilled out onto the street, owls hooted from within the Menagerie and purple puffs of glittering smoke fogged up the window of Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary.

Aside from the shops, the people going in and out of them were strange enough. Many witches and wizards were wearing multicoloured cloaks and robes, and several sported tall, triangular hats. Rowan spotted a couple of wizards having a brawl halfway down the street, wands out. Families swept by carrying owls, books and new wands. Buzzing chatter filled the air, friendly calls and aimless conversations.

Swivelling her head left and right, trying desperately to take in everything at once, Rowan followed Dumbledore up Diagon Alley, through the bustling crowd.

"Professor Dumbledore," said Rowan, having to shout to be heard over the multitudes of people, "where are we going first?"

Dumbledore smiled and beckoned Rowan into the shadow of the Apothecary, the smoke now vanished, leaving only a purple hue inside the shop.

"I think we will need to buy your school robes and equipment second hand... there's a second hand shop just along here... and let me see... Flourish and Blotts for your books of course... and your wand, of course," he said.

"Right, this way," he said briskly, and they set off.

An hour later, Rowan exited Flourish and Blotts, stuffing her school books into the scratched cauldron she was carrying, the waving face of Miranda Goshawk peering out from The Standard Book of Spells – Grade 1.

Dumbledore consulted the list of school supplies in his hand.

"Only a wand left," he said, and Rowan's heart jumped. She took out a curved wand out of her pocket, resembling a talon of a bird of prey. Dumbledore watched it curiously.

"Whose was that?" he asked.

"Bellatrix's," replied Rowan with a grimace, stuffing it back in her pocket," but it doesn't work very well for me." Dumbledore nodded grimly.

Standing outside a dark, shabby shop, Rowan read a golden sign – Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. She pushed open the door, paint peeling, and walked inside. Dumbledore shut the door, and through the gloom, Rowan could make out narrow shelves piled with narrow rectangular boxes. The place seemed deserted. The air was thick with magic. Inching forwards, Rowan felt drawn towards the second shelf along, and reached out her hand towards a single box, the dusty label reading Ebony, Phoenix core, 13 ¾ inches, Swishy.

A soft cough from behind startled her, and she almost dropped the box. A wizened man with shoulder-length white hair, silvery eyes and a creased brow stepped out of the shadows.

"Ah, Mr Ollivander," said Dumbledore, shaking hands with the wizard," my friend Rowan here, is in search of a new wand."

"Indeed," he wheezed," and started scouring the shelves," what did you say your surname was?"

"I-I didn't," said Rowan," but it's Riddle."

Ollivander's head snapped up, and he eyed Rowan curiously, stunned. Rowan tried to look anywhere but those creepy, silver eyes.

"And your middle name?" he practically whispered.

"Bellatrix."

There was a sudden silence. Then Mr Ollivander spotted the wand poking from Rowan's pocket and plucked it out. Rolling it between his fingers, he murmured "yes... walnut, dragon-heartstring, 12 ¾ inches, unyielding," more to himself than anybody else," this was her wand."

Rowan shivered.

Mr Ollivander looked up at Rowan, opened his mouth to say something, and caught sight of the wand-box she was holding.

"Ah, yes," he said softly," Try it."

He slid off the top of the box, reached gently inside and handed Rowan a jet black wand. It was smooth and gleamed in the lamp-light. Halfway down, it curved like a braid.

Rowan fingered it. It felt cool and refreshing. She looked up at the peering face of Mr Olliander.

"Give it a wave," he said.

"Lumos," Rowan whispered. Instantly, a ball of pulsing silver light appeared at the end of the wand.

Mr Ollivander raised his eyebrows, and looked questioningly at Dumbledore, who was smiling.

"Very well," he said slowly.

"W-what's wrong?" said Rowan.

"It is... unusual... to find your wand first time. In fact... it has only happened to me twice before. Was this wand just... lying about?" he said, and Rowan bristled at his slightly accusative tone.

"No," she said quickly," it was on a shelf. I... I picked it up."

"As I said, unusual. Very."

Rowan wished Ollivander would stop staring at her with his wide, unblinking silver eyes.

"Good. Are we done then?" said Dumbledore, breaking the silence. He handed over some golden coins, and they stepped gladly into the dazzling sunlight, Mr Ollivander peering through the dusty windows as they walked away.

Far sooner than she would have liked, Rowan found herself outside Hann's Orphanage. Still reeling after her Apperation, she turned to Dumbledore.

"I prefer travelling by broom or Thestral."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I'll admit it takes a bit of getting used to."

One hand on the gate, Rowan paused.

"Sir? Err... permission to use the Obliviate charm on Muggles if Katie... acts up again?"

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded.

"I'll inform the Ministry," he added.

Rowan nodded glumly, and they walked up the gravel path together, the gate swinging shut behind them.

"I would like you to come to Hogwarts next Saturday," said Dumbledore into the silence.

"But the school term doesn't start for ages."

"I believe it would be wise to discuss your present circumstances before term starts."

Rowan tried furiously not to grin, but didn't succeed.

She glanced up at Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling again.

"I would be very interested to find out more about your past," he said softly.

She nodded, eyes on the doormat, and rang the bell.

"Well... see you next Friday," she said, slightly awkwardly. She looked up at the sky. It was about to rain.

CRACK.

And when she looked down, Dumbledore was gone.

Thanks so much if you've reviewed this, I'm always happy to take improvements and ideas.

Next chapter will be through the Pensive into Rowan's past...

This chapter didn't really turn out how I would have liked but oh well.

Please review – and it'll help me remember to write!