A/N:

So basically, this story was originally posted in 2012. A few days ago, it was suddenly removed by an admin because it had a chapter that was just an authors note at the end. The entire story, and all 1000+ reviews just Thanos-snapped out of existence. I am fuming.

At first I wasn't going to put it back up, but someone requested I do. Then I thought I may as well edit it while I'm re-uploading it. I wrote it several years ago (from the ages of 12 to 14) and my writing has certainly improved since then. But it took me about 2 hours to edit just the first chapter, and I have neither the time nor the motivation to do all 100,000 words of this story. Especially not for the website that so callously deleted it in the first place.

This has resulted in the first chapter being better written than the remainder of the story. You have been warned. I at least drew some new cover art. But without the clout of the almost 1000 favourites it used to have, I doubt anyone is going to read this anyway, so whatever. Enjoy.

Chapter 1

I'm dreaming. This is a dream. There is no way this is not a dream.

That is what I kept telling myself.

Over and over in my head.

But it didn't feel like a dream. Everything seemed so real. But how could it be real?

I don't know how I got here. I woke up, confused, on the floor of Dumbledore's office. That's right, Dumbledore. As in Headmaster Dumbledore from Harry Freaking Potter. I was amazed. The office was just like the books described. I didn't know what I was doing here. I mean, I love the Harry Potter series but it's not real. And yet I had somehow found myself in Dumbledore's office. There was no picture of Dumbledore on the wall next to the other former headmasters. That meant he wasn't dead yet. I wondered what year it is if Dumbledore is alive.

What am I even thinking? I'm not actually in Harry Potter. Maybe I somehow ended up in a Harry Potter theme park or something. That's certainly more believable than the alternative.

Then I looked down at myself. Holy—what the hell?! Everything was scaled down. My hands were smaller, my feet were slipping out of my shoes, may jeans were too long, my hair was shorter. I'm a child. Why am I a child? Last I checked I was fifteen! Then again, last I checked I was at home, in my bedroom, and the wizarding world wasn't real. What am I doing here?

I was mid panic when Dumbledore walked in. Recognising him was easy. What other old guy would be walking around Dumbledore's office with a long white beard and bright purple robes. He looked surprised to see me, probably thinking something along the lines of, 'Who is this little girl and how did she get in my office?'. But he remained composed. Instead of grilling me or drawing his want, he moved to his desk and sat down behind it. A moment later, he gestured calmly for me to take the seat on the other side of the desk.

He waited for me to speak. Finally I blurted, "What is the date today?"

"October 20th, 1991," he told me. It seemed he had used up all his capacity for surprise at the start of our conversation. He was cool as a cucumber. I, however, still had plenty of surprise left. My mouth fell open. I wasn't even born in 1991! How is that even possible? Then again, how is it possible for me to be here.

Dumbledore looked at me with interest. This time he asked me a question. "What is your name?"

"Joanne Rogers."

"Well Miss Rogers, what are you doing in my office?" he asked, kindly.

"I don't know," I said, "I just woke up here."

"Do you know where you are?" His question was slow, almost careful.

"Yes. I am at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. But wizards aren't real. I must be dreaming." That's all this was. A very strange dream. I've certainly had stranger dreams, that's for sure.

His bear twitched. If I were to guess, I'd say he was amused. Slowly, he opened a draw in his desk and pulled out a wan. He held it across the table, the handle angled towards me. I looked at him, confused. "What's that for?"

"Try it," he said.

I borrowed my brow at him. I'm not a witch. I think I would know if I was a witch. That's surely something a person would notice. However, I'd read all the books so I knew some spells. Why no try one? I pointed the wand at a book on his table. Swish and flick. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Nothing happened. I'm not going to lie, I was a little disapointed. But as I shifted the wand up to hand it back to Dumbledore, the book rose with my movement. I froze, then I experimentally pointed the want more towards the ceiling. The book rose higher. For a moment, all I could do was stare. Then hurriedly I dropped the want back on the desk. The book fell back down with a thump, bounced of the desk and landed on the floor. I winced. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright, Miss Rogers," he said. "How did you know that spell?"

"I read it in a book." I felt numb. I was hardly paying attention to our conversation anymore. It was like I was speaking to him through a two foot wall of glass. His bushy eyebrows rose a few centimetres. I guess he had some surprise left after all.

"Where did you get a spell book?" He asked.

"It wasn't a spell book."

"What kind of book was it then?"

I opened my mouth, ready to explain much more than I should probably be explaining to a book character, but no sound came out. I tried again. And again. Nothing. Not a word made it out of my mouth. I frowned. I tried telling him Harry would defeat Voldemort. Nothing. I tried telling him there was a horcrux in the school. Nothing. I tried telling him I was actually a teenager from years in the future. Nothing.

Why isn't this working?!

Finally I just said, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you."

We struggled to communicate for a while. A long while. I somehow got across that I was from the future. By then my stomach was growling.

He theorised that I was under some kind of charm, stopping me from speaking of certain things. "Why don't you just read my mind?" I asked him. "That's a thing you can do, right?"

"I tried earlier," he said, frowning, "I am unable."

Okay, that's a bit rude to do without permission. I squashed down my indignation for the moment. "Well can you just send me home then?"

"I am afraid not." His reply was instant. He'd barely even considered the idea.

"What? What not? I don't belong here."

"You where brought here for a reason," he said. "Allas, I cannot send you home. I do not know how." I slumped into my chair. "You may stay here, at Hogwarts." He waved his wand in my direction and seemed to be seeing something I could not. "It seems you are eleven years old. I will have Hagrid take you shopping for school supplies. Regrettably, we are already a month into the school year, but it seems you already know some spells. I am sure you will catch up with the other first years in no time."

"I don't have any money," was all I managed to choke out.

"While you are here, you will be in my care," he assured me. "I will provide you with anything you might need, including money."

—

Later that day, me and Hagrid took the floo network to Diagon Alley. We visited the uniform shop, a book shop and a number of other places I lost track of. I felt as if I should be taking everything in. Instead I was just numb to the world as I was led from one place to another, subject to various measurements, questions, and strangers handing me all sorts of supplies.

I snapped out of it as I realised I was being led towards a wand shop. The wand shop; Olivander's. I was about to get a wand! Hagrid took me inside and stood by the entrance. Mr Ollivander was just near the enterance. He greeted Hagrid warmly and regarded me with some curiosity. Then he took out his magical measuring tape and got to work with me. He took a box off a shelf and handed me the wand inside. I had just closed my hand around it when he snatched it away. He handed me another. I hadn't even touched it before he pulled it back. It went on like this for some time, before finally the wand I was holding shot out bright red sparks.

"Ah yes," Ollivander said with a clap of his hands that made me jump, "Rowan and dragon heart string, nine and a half inches, pliable. Rowan wands are known to align with those of pure heart." He stared into my eyes like he was trying to communicate something meaningful to me. Honestly, I was too thrown by this entire day to attempt to decipher whatever was going on in that man's head.

We took the floo network back to Dumbledore office. "I trust that went well?" Dumbledore inquired lightly upon our arrival. I nodded. "Now just one more thing to do." He moved over to some shelves. My eyes widened as he took picked the sorting hat off the top shelve. "May I?" He asked. I nodded once more and he placed the hat on my head.

Well aren't you interesting. From the future, indeed. My how different things are where your from. But if there's one thing I know about time, it's that you can never predict where it will take things. A voice was speaking in my head. You are not a Slytherin. A fair assessment. I certainly wasn't cunning. Perhaps I'll end up in Hufflepuff. I wasn't sure I had the qualities for any of the other houses. Now why would you think that? You're far from stupid. Nor are you a coward. I see plenty of courage, in fact. Well, I certainly don't know where you're seeing that, Mr Hat. I think you will do well in "GRYFFINDOR". It yelled the last part. Huh? I almost argued, but Dumbledore had already taken the hat off my head. Gryffindor? Me?

Dumbledore sent an owl for professor McGonagall and she soon showed up. "This is a new Gryffindor student, Joanne Rogers," he introduced me to McGonagall, "Would you please take her to Gryffindor tower?"

"Of course, Albus." she said. She peered at me with her spectacles, then gave me a tight smile. "Come with me."

I followed her down hallway after hallway. It was impossible to keep track of where we were going. She stopped in front of a portrait. The woman within looked at me curiously. The fat lady who guarded Griffindor tower, I realised. McGonagall turned to me, "The password is Caput Draconis." The portrait swung open, and McGonagall walked through the opening it revealed. I hurried after her and the portrait swung back to its place. McGonagall took the time to describe the function of common room and the location of my dorm room is. Then she left. I guess she was a busy woman.

I looked around the room and spotted a young girl curled up on one of the couches. She had a large bush of hair and a book pressed so close to her face that it may as well have been attached to her. There was no doubt in my mind: this was Hermione Granger.

It was then that I decided not to overthink the situation any further. Whatever this weird dream was, I was just going to roll with it. What else could I do?

I approached her couch and sat beside her. She startled and removed the book from her face to peer at me. "Hi," I said, "I'm Joanne Rogers. I'm new."

For a moment, all she did was stare. Then her manners seemed to kick in. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"What are you reading?" I asked.

That's all it took. Soon we were having a very enthusiastic conversation about books. It was the most familiar thing I'd done this entire day. Honestly, it was a massive relief. She seemed to be enjoying the conversation as much as me, and for that I was glad. Then all of a sudden she stopped talking.

She stared at me for a long moment. "Do you want to study with me sometimes?"

I was a bit taken aback by the abrupt question. Is this the Hermione Granger was of broaching friendship?

"Of course," I said. "Do you want to be friends?"

She looked just about ready to cry. I almost asked if I'd said something wrong, but she was smiling, so I held off. It was then that I remembered she doesn't make friends with Harry and Ron until after Halloween. I couldn't recall her having any friends before then. My heart broke for the hopeful expression on this eleven year old's face. She must be lonely. I cursed the other Gryffindors for making her feel his way. I knew Hermione could be abrasive and snobbish in the books, but she'd also been thoughtful and caring. She was certainly worthy of friendship.

"Y-yes," she said. "Friends. I would love to be friends."

—

Me and Hermione grew close over the next week. She helped me catch up in all my classes. In fact, we even started studying ahead together. I was finally starting to accept, as weird as it was, that I was a witch in the world of Harry Potter. It was impossible not to accept. Harry was in all of our classes. I saw things I'd read play out exactly, like Harry receiving his broom by owl. I was at Hogwarts. This dream was eery.

Today was Halloween. The day the troll was let in. The day I'd loose Hermione to Harry and Ron. The thought made me oddly sad. I'd miss her, that I was certain of. Still I went about the day like it was any other. I went to charms with Hermione. I let the events play out. I already knew the levitation spell, but I didn't cast it right away. Just like in the book, Ron got mad at Hermione for correcting him. She demonstrated her skills. That did not improve Ron's mood.

After class, Hermione and I were walking mere steps behind Ron and Harry. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," Ron said. He spared no though for who would overhear him as he fumed. Such is the way of eleven year old boys. "She's a nightmare, honestly. She doesn't even have any friends."

I whipped my head round to look at Hermione. Her eyes were quickly filling with tears. I opened my mouth but she was already off like a bullet. "I think she heard you," Harry said to Ron, as she shot past the two boys.

They're only eleven. They're only eleven. They're only eleven.

I tried to take calming breaths.

It wasn't working.

I stormed past and stopped in front of them. "What is wrong with you?" I refrained from shouting, but I wasn't exactly quiet. "She was only trying to help you. Sure, she may come off as a bit of a know it all, but she means well. She absolutely did not deserve to hear you say that about her. If you absolutely have to project your own insecurities onto her, then do it in your dorm room where she won't hear you, you, you, you insensitive twat! And, by the way, she does have a friend. She has me."

Harry and Ron seemed completely taken aback by my outburst. Bloody stupid eleven year old boys. I left before their brains could catch up with the situation. Trying to find whatever bathroom Hermione had ended up in was going to be a serious pain in my ass. I still barely knew where the bathrooms were.

I did manage to locate her eventually. She was crying in a stall when I found her. No matter what I said she refused to come out. I suppose that was a good thing. She needed to be here when the troll attacked. She needed to become friends with Harry and Ron. Things need to play out.

I sighed and lent beside her stall door. The least I could do was keep my friend company.

—

She did eventually stop crying. Although, I had no idea how long we'd been here. It had been long enough for be to give up on hygiene and sit on the floor. I perked up as I hear her unlock her door. Then I stood as she emerged from the stall. Finally. I opened my mouth to say something to her, but before I could, the door to the bathrooms opened. WE both turned to look.

Yep, there's the mountain troll.

Hermione let out a magnificent scream, that had me covering my ears. The troll was completely blocking our only exit. I pulled Hermione with me as I retreated as far from it as possible. It advanced, and soon had us cornered by the sinks. What the hell is keeping Harry and Ron?

Just as the thought had popped into my head, the two boys in question charged through the entrance and started throwing things at it. Not the best plan, but it would do. I towed Hermione carefully around the troll while it was distracted. We were almost by the boys when I saw the troll raise it's club to swing at Harry. He was looking at us. He was going to get hit. In an instant, I dropped Hermione's arm and dove for Harry. I felt the breeze of the club just missing my head as we tumbled to the floor. That could have gone less than well.

Oh crap oh crap oh crap. The troll had gotten a hold on my waist and was lifting me. Harry frantically made a grab for my hand, but he missed. Although, I'm not sure how that would have helped, the troll would certainly have just listen us both in the air. It held me up to it's face. With nothing better to do, I wound up my leg then kicked it in the nose.

It let out an animalistic growl and let me slip through its fingers. I don't know what I'd been expecting, but I was unprepared for the sudden drop. My landing was awkward at best. I felt a sharp pain in my ankle as I tried to land on my feet. I ended up tumbling backwards onto my bum. There was no time to acknowledge the new pain, as the troll was lifting its club for another swing. I scooted backwards as fast as I was able.

"Do something!" Hermione yelled at Harry.

I rolled out of the way of the troll's first swing. It lifted it's club a second time. It moved it's hand down, but the club remained. The troll looked at it's empty hand for a moment. Then it looked upwards, just in time to get a club to the face. We all scrambled back, as it fell face first to the floor. I was propelled about a foot into the air by the thump it made. Ron had done it, I realised. He'd performed the levitation spell.

I looked at the three of them. No one seemed injured. Harry was on the floor beside me and Hermione was looking at Ron, clear surprise on her face. "Nicely done," she said to him. Harry stood, then helped me to my feet. I winced as I stood. "I think I sprained my ankle," I told them.

At that moment the teachers rushed in. Professor McGonagall took in the scene, clutching her chest like she was about to have a heart attack. "What is the meaning of this?" She asked.

"It was my fault!" Hermione said immediately. The boys stared at her with wide eyes.

Remembering the needless lie she was about to tell, I interrupted her, "Hermione needed to use the loo during the feast. I went with her. Harry and Ron came to find us when they realised we were missing. They had no idea the troll had left the dungeon." Hermione and the boys nodded their agreement. None of them seemed to wonder how I knew the troll was supposed to be in the dungeon.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Well then, five points will be awarded to each of you. For sheer dumb luck. Not many first years could take on a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were grinning at each other. The legend begins.

—

Hermione and I spent much more time with Harry and Ron after that. Apparently my friends here had just tripled. None of this made any sense still. I didn't know how I came to be here. I missed home. I missed my friends and my family. But it seemed like I was here to stay. The idea I was dreaming had slipped away some time ago. I couldn't exactly pinpoint when. Apparently, this is just my life now. I may as well make the best of it.

—