Clary Pov

The first thing I noticed when I opened our eyes were the stars on the ceiling. They were lovely stars, glittering gently in an otherwise dark room. Mind still a bit fuddy from sleep, I briefly wondered why I'd woken up. Until the alarm went off again, and I cursed, trying to turn the damned thing off and go back to sleep.

Maya Pov

I took in the room because where the hell were we? Not anywhere I'd been before, that at least I was certain of. The lavender walls were covered with posters of bands and concerts. A lot of pictures featuring the same dark-skinned, curly-haired girl, sometimes alone, sometimes together, stickers of butterflies and pride flags, and a pinboard full of sticky notes and to-do lists. The sun came streaming in from the large window, illuminating an old-fashioned alarm clock lying in the middle of the room.

There were three doors, with one presumably leading to the corridor, and the others to a bathroom and a walk-in closet? At least, I couldn't see where clothes could otherwise be stored, as one wall was covered with bookcases and an enormous wooden desk took up a lot of space.

Even though the room was wholly unfamiliar to me, I could tell it rang a bell by some of the Others. They did not, however, give me a satisfying answer when I asked, only telling me that they had seen it before, but were unsure of where exactly.

Shaking my head at the unhelpful advice I decided to explore a bit and opened the door closest to the bed. This one lead to a relatively big bathroom, with a shower and a toilet. Above the washbasin was a mirror, and I gazed in bewilderment at the reflection. A 5'5, 16-year-old girl stared back at me, the same girl from the photos. She had the same curly black hair, light brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. The only strange thing was the mark in the middle of my forehead, a small pale zigzag contrasting with my otherwise smooth brown skin.

As I stared at the reflection, my reflection, in shock, I wondered how it was possible that the mirror showed me instead of the meatbag I'd come accustomed to sharing. "We could be dreaming," Icarus suggested. I pinched myself. The reflection stayed the same. "I'd say this disproves your dream theory." I paused. "And how were you even planning to explain the room – so real, it all felt so real – with your theory?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Zir replied, annoyed. "I still think we're dreaming anyway, so you can just go with it I guess. Not like there's much else we can do at the moment."

"I really hate it when you're suddenly the voice of reason."

Clary Pov

As I came back, I saw our features change into mine. The dream – "Ha! At least Clary believes in my theory." Icarus sent a smug smirk to Maya, who huffed in reply – apparently allowed all of us to change into who we really are. The mirror now showed a 4'8 girl with olive-toned skin, dark brown hair with purple highlights and eyes that couldn't decide if they were gray or blue. Even though our appearance had changed, the mark on my forehead remained. And since Maya and Icarus had figured out that we could just do whatever, I decided to explore the apartment.

I left the bathroom and came face to face with pretty lavender walls, covered with posters of bands that we liked, like Nirvana for Maya, Icarus's Black Sabbath, my The Combinations, and Evie's Abba. The gray wooden floor was almost completely covered with a soft-looking carpet, and in the middle was the wreckage of an alarm clock. I vaguely remembered throwing the thing across the room, what at the time had seemed like an excellent solution to stop the noise. Whoops.

The desk was absolutely covered with things. There were books, papers, pens, more books, half-written letters, and things that I couldn't be bothered to identify.

Turning away from the desk, my eye fell on the corner that was filled with blue bean bags, fuzzy blankets, and stuffed animals. It reminded me of Cassie, who loved stuffed animals. "You're right!" Cassie buzzed, aloft with excitement. "I really want to jump in and make a fort and cuddle with aaall of the stuffies!"

The bookshelf was filled with books, duh, but also had a lot of space for arts and crafts, such as paints, sketching pencils, a sketchbook that had patterns and fabric sticking out, "Just like my real one!" Evan realized.

I decided to open the door opposite the bathroom. It lead to a corridor, with a set of stairs leading down. Curious, I decided to head down, where the stairs opened into a big sunny living room. It was connected to a kitchen that I knew Maya would love if only for all the shiny appliances she could use to cook something delicious. On that note, Evan would probably love it as well, but mainly because of the oven. He did love baking.

I went out of the kitchen back into the living room, where the light blue walls were filled with more pictures - "seems dream you likes taking pictures just as much." Icarus said amusedly - of different people in groups. The floors were a dark brown with another fluffy rug. Along with two grey couches and a dark brown table, it made for a nice spacious living room that still looked lived in with video games near the tv, a few books on the table, weighted blankets on the couches.

When I had seen enough, I headed back up the stairs, to check out the final door in our bedroom, which would hopefully lead to a closet. Otherwise, we were stuck wearing our current outfit. Not like that was a punishment, given the wonderfully soft, lilac pajamas.

Luckily for us, the door lead to a roomy walk-in closet that was separated into sections for each of us. My section with its graphic tees, jeans, dresses, and skirts was at the left, between Evie's dark academia and Maya's alt. Quickly ruffling through the clothes, II decided to go with a pair of faded jeans, a Minnie Mouse top, and a pair of converse with a rainbow on the bottoms. I also added a yellow Kandi bracelet.. just like my real one. I quickly dismissed the thought, blaming it as another quirk of the dream we'd been having.

"Go and eat something, Pixie," Icarus told me in his big-brother voice. "You trust me to cook?" You could hear the surprise in my slightly-higher-than-normal voice, as I was explicitly banned from the kitchen since I occasionally had a habit of forgetting that I was cooking, resulting in a lot of burned food.

Icarus chuckled at my surprise, but Evan cut in before ze could reply. "Yes, he is letting you cook as I will keep watch." "Ooh, the Master Chef is watching over lowly old me, how will I survive the honour? I am not worthy" I grinned, happy to joke with them both. "Oh, you're definitely not worth it, but you do need to eat something before you faint, Pixie." Evan was definitely being sarcastic, but I could hear the undercurrent of worry in his voice.

"Fine, fine, I'm going." I went down the stairs again and made my way to the kitchen. "So, what am I making?" "Egg salad and cucumber sandwiches, quick and easy. And you can't burn anything," Evan teased.

With his instructions, I managed to prepare the food fairly quickly and hastened to put them on a

plate. "I can do aaaanything now!" I cackled, enjoying the rush. "Suure, captain, as long as you don't forget the sugar." Maya was quick to remind me and I buzzed to the fridge to grab a can of Pepsi. I had just found a comfortable position on the couch, balancing the plate in my lap when a bird flew in through the open windows.

Why the frick was there an owl in the living room!?

Said owl hooted and landed on the low table, looking at me expectantly. "What is the bird doing? Why is it looking at me? What the hell am I supposed to do now?" The owl hooted again, interrupting my panicked rant. "It's not attacking you, and it has a letter," Maya calmly pointed out. "Why don't you try to read that first?"

"Right, okay, I can do this. I think." I gave myself a pep-talk as I slowly leaned forward, mindful of the plate on the couch, praying that it was indeed harmless and not going to attack me with that very sharp and very pointy beak.

Gently holding out a finger for it to sit on, I pried the envelope loose. It waited patiently, and after the ordeal had finished, it looked at me, as if it expected something from me.

"Alright, I don't know what you can eat, but I can give you some water if you want?" I felt stupid talking to the owl, but they were supposedly smart birds. It blinked its assent, presumably, so I put down my plate that had miraculously survived the ordeal and headed to the kitchen. After I had poured some water in a dish and the owl had drunk its fill, I headed back to the couch to read my hard-earned letter. As I turned it to the front, I almost dropped the letter in shock. There, addressed in emerald-green ink, was my name.

Ms. A. Potter

The Upstairs Bedroom

361. Oxford Street, Oxford Circus

London

We were in a fucking Harry Potter dream! Suddenly, a lot of things started to make sense. The fact that our appearance changed to reflect our switches, the zigzag that was obviously a lightning bolt when I thought about it, even the bloody quills on the desk. But this was fine, it was fine, it was a dream anyway, we were just dreaming about the Harry Potter world because we'd been reading a shit load of Harry Potter fics lately.

I took a deep breath and placed my hand against my chest, trying to calm my racing heart, trying to calm down.

As I picked up the envelope, I realized that it, in fact, said A. Potter. A. Potter? Not Harry Potter, but maybe a relation of him? There weren't any others in canon I thought, but then again, my memory was notoriously shitty. But why the A.? Our birth name was River, which didn't have an A anywhere in it.

"Maybe it stands for Alec, could be the name we're using while dreaming?" Icarus' suggestion popped up in my head. "But wouldn't it make more sense for my name to be on there then? As I have been out much more?" "I don't know, but wizards aren't well-known for their common sense…" I could hear the frustration creeping in his voice, and decided to open the letter, hoping for a clue inside. Sadly, it didn't mention my name again, only stating the same as in the books.

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Okay, this was definitely a Hogwarts dream. It had to be, because if this was not a dream…. No no not thinking about that bad Clary bad. Before I could really spiral, however, Maya cut in again. "Let's focus on the present first, shall we?" Her voice was almost gentle, and together with her reasonable suggestion, I decided to just roll with whatever the dream threw at me.

First point: reply to the letter. I still wasn't sure if we wanted to attend Hogwarts or not, but it was rude to just leave it on unread, so to speak. Remembering the quills I'd seen on the desk, I headed back to the (my?) bedroom. When I had hunted down an empty piece of parchment and a quill, I thought about my response.

Remembering my resolve to just roll with it, (and of course, who wouldn't want to attend Hogwarts) I decided to reply, swiftly penning an acceptance. Ignoring my unfamiliarly fancy handwriting and the apparent ease with handling a quill, I sealed the letter shut.

After another uncomfortable encounter with the owl, I watched it fly away, bearing my acceptance letter with it.

From what I remembered of the Harry Potter movies, Harry went with Hagrid to the Leaky Cauldron after he "officially" got his letter. Did Hagrid only come because his letter was so hard to deliver or was it standard protocol for muggleborns? But the quills on the desk and some of the book seemed rather unmuggle, even if it was in a magic dream. Probably no one coming to get me then, leaving me with only one option.

Finding the way to the Leaky Cauldron myself.