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The next day dawned bright and warm, and I was up and reaching for the window almost before the owl could start tapping. Not wanting to wake Hagrid up—god knows how long he's been tracking us down— I quietly sorted through his pockets, paid the owl, and settled down to read the newspaper.

Once Hagrid was up, we quickly ate breakfast and were off, on our way to Diagon Alley and all the marvelous things it holds. Once I had settled us on the train, I took my letter out once more and looked over the list of supplies, committing it to memory while asking Hagrid all of the questions someone who didn't know anything about the Wizarding World would ask. A bit tedious, but better to lay the groundwork now so I wouldn't come under suspicion later.

Right before we entered the Leaky Cauldron, I tugged on Hagrid's jacket, injecting a bit of hesitance into my voice. "Hagrid," I asked, "you said I was famous in the Wizarding World. Do you think lots of people will know me in there? I'm not sure if I can handle a lot of attention." He truly was a sweetheart, reassuring me that he would keep it low key and not let them overwhelm me. Too bad Hagrid was the least subtle person I'd ever met. I would really have preferred to have no one even realize who I was, but whatever. Now was as good a time as any to start building my devoted fan base.

Soon I was in the thick of it, projecting a wide-eyed and earnest innocence while full grown adults crowded about me like puppies hoping for a treat. I shook so many hands my wrist was sore, thanking everybody by name for welcoming me and bringing up memories of any of them who had approached me during the last ten years. Everyone was tickled pink and fawning over me like there was no tomorrow. It was exhausting. When Quirrel had his turn, I made sure to leave him with the impression of a helplessly naive moppet, out of her depths and frantically dogpaddling to stay above water.

"Thank you all so much for welcoming me," I said as Hagrid finally managed to hustle us towards the back. "I was nervous, you see, because I didn't know about magic at all until last night, but you've all been so kind—" the door to the courtyard shut on the latest crescendo of sound. No doubt Hagrid would be pressed for information within an inch of his life when he returned, and his inability to keep his mouth shut meant gossip about poor Hyacinth Potter and those cruel, lying muggles would be circulating with unrestrained fervor by tonight.

Gringotts was fascinating, and I had about a million and one questions to ask the goblins but I held them in until after we got my money. I enjoyed the cart ride far more than Hagrid did. It was probably meant to be intimidating and confusing, but anyone who liked rollercoasters would have had the time of their life.

Once we had collected funds from my vault and locked the door, Hagrid went to put away the key but I interrupted him. "Can I look at that?" I asked, and he crumbled under my pleading eyes. I turned the small, heavy key over and over in my hands, marveling at the power it held. "Was this really my parent's?" I asked, looking back up at Hagrid, and the resulting swell of sorrow and pride overcame him so much he completely forgot to ask for it back.

He made to move on, but I wasn't done yet. I tucked the key into my pocket and bit at my lip, feigning nervousness. "Hagrid, I was thinking," I said, shuffling my feet back and forth and staring at the ground. "If whatever you're meant to pick up for Professor Dumbledore is secret, maybe I shouldn't go with? It's just that I don't want you to get in trouble," I added with a rush, glancing up before dropping my gaze again. "And I have ever so many questions, maybe I could sit somewhere and ask someone who's free?"

It worked like a charm, and in no time at all I was sequestered in a back office with a goblin named Grunnak. Finally, I was free to drop the naive child act I'd been maintaining all day, as well as off and on for the past ten years. I felt like the goblins would have seen through it anyway, and not appreciated the attempted deception.

My suspicions were proven correct almost immediately, and the following conversation was brisk but pleasant. We discussed my finances and who had access to them, as well as setting up an instant alarm to notify me if someone other than myself accessed them, for any reason. I also got the first real surprise of my life as Hyacinth, when Grunnak asked me if I wanted to go over the records for my other vault. Other vault! Apparently the Potters, being pure-bloods, had kept one vault at Gringotts for money and another for family heirlooms, ones too powerful or expensive to just leave at home. I wanted nothing more than to march right over and spend hours cataloging every thing in there, but unfortunately I was on a time limit. Hagrid had no doubt already picked up the Philosopher's Stone and made it out of the caves, and if I didn't get back to him soon he'd probably come looking for me.

"Hagrid," I asked as we stepped out of Gringotts, "do you know if there are any spells to make your hair longer? I've always wanted long hair, you see, but Aunt Petunia never let me..."

"They didn't even let yeh have long hair?" Hagrid asked, and I had no doubt he would have been roaring and bristling with anger were he not still sick from the minecarts. he delivered me into the hands of a very nice woman named Honoria, who ran a salon called Hunniford's Heavenly Haircuts, and promised to meet up with me at Madame Malkin's once he had recovered from his bout of motion sickness. I figured he would probably take longer than that, considering how eager everyone will be for gossip about me. Hagrid truly was the best person to spread knowledge about me. When properly worked up with righteous indignation, the man couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

Through a judicious application of magic, potions, and talent, Honoria had my hair gloriously long and silky in a trice. She loaded me down with all sorts of free hair products and accessories, all of which were very 90s. The mini butterfly clips that actually flapped their wings made me grin, though, and I used one now to pull a few strands of hair out of my face. I entered Madame Malkin's, and braced myself to deal with a spoiled brat that had been raised in what was basically a white supremacy cult. Yay.

Madame Malkin was all cheer and reassurances, bundling me up onto a stool next to the person who would undoubtedly become the bane of my existence for at least three years. "Hello," Malfoy said, "Hogwarts too?" I answered in the affirmative, and did my best to look kind and interested as he talked, and not at all like I wanted to roll my eyes so hard they fell right out of my skull.

"My father's next door buying my books and my mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have one. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and smuggle it in somehow." He looked over me dubiously, taking in my long hair and large spectacles. "Do you play any Quidditch?" he asked, in a tone that implied he knew the answer and wasn't impressed by it.

I pasted on a friendly smile. "No, but once we have flying lessons it would be fun to try," I answered cheerfully, almost hoping that he'd lose interest.

"I didn't think so. I do, and father says it'll be a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house. I'm inclined to agree. Do you know what house you'll be in yet?"

"I'm hoping for Ravenclaw. What about you?"

"I'm going to be in Slytherin, everyone in my family is. I say, look at that man!" Malfoy pointed out the window at Hagrid.

"That's Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. He's taking me to get my things, since my relatives can't." Madame Malkin pronounced me finished, and I hopped off the stool with no small amount of relief. "It was nice meeting you!" I offered him a cheery wave before quickly walking out the door and towards Hagrid.

Hagrid had to just about drag me out of Flourish and Blott's, and not without a hefty amount of extra books purchased. Hedwig was obtained and gifted to me, and we were on our way to Ollivander's.

I wasn't concerned about how long it was taking me to find a wand. After all, Harry had tried out hundreds of wands in the original story, so I didn't pay much attention to the goings-on.

Until I realized the wand that lit up in my hand wasn't Harry's at all.

I stared down at the wand in my hand, heart pounding so loud in my ears I couldn't hear what Ollivander was saying. This wasn't right. It was supposed to be holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. The wand that had finally done it for me was beechwood and phoenix feather, thirteen inches.

I paid and was bustled off to the train station in a daze. The connection between Harry and Voldemort's wands had saved him more than once. If I was flying without that extra layer of protection, I was in trouble. I had to be smarter and faster than anyone else, or I'd be dead. Sitting in an empty compartment, clutching my ticket for Platform 9 and 3/4, I could only think that everything had just gotten much more dangerous.