Chapter 1: Discoveries

"What is it? A muggle?"

"No, not hardly. But I've never seen her before."

"You reckon she's foreign?"

Marsea had awoken to the sound of voices ringing in her ears, thoroughly disoriented. She blinked once, twice, and the room came into focus. She was in a hospital of some sort, but a very odd one. The ceilings were high, and not white. They were covered in the most beautiful colors she had ever seen; it was almost as though they were not real. There were shades of burgundy, purples, blues, all mixed together in a sunset of fire. She stared up for a moment, unblinking, feeling herself be absorbed by the swirling reds.

The voices continued, reality flooding back into her.

"Where did you find her?"

"Out near Hobbywillow, right smack dab in the center of Brooklyn moor. It's good I got there when I did; she was half dead, she was."

"Well, she seems better now. Have a look."

Marsea had sat up in her bed, staring vacantly at the two men in the room. One, who was older and had a beard to rival Santa Claus,' strode over to her bed.

"Hullo then," he said, smiling. "How are we doing?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She clutched her throat; it felt as if someone had tied a rope around her voice box.

"Oh!" A younger, red-haired scurried to the side of her bed, extracting what appeared to be a wand from the long cloak he was wearing. She recoiled away from him, but he pointed the stick at her throat, mumbled something that certainly wasn't English, and the pressure around her throat loosened.

"Sorry, Miss." He said apologetically. "Had to silence you, you were wailing like a banshee in your sleep. Nightmares, I reckon."

Marsea was confused. "If, erm," she tested her voice. "If you don't mind, could I ask who you are, and where I am?"

"I suppose that would be acceptable," said the old man, eyes twinkling. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am Headmaster here. You, my dear, have found yourself at 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'"

Now she was no longer confused. She was dumbfounded. "I'm WHERE?" she smiled nervously. "Come on, there's no such place. This is some kind of joke."

Dumbledore frowned. "I assure you, I am not joking."
The red-haired man looked quizzically at Dumbledore. "Really, Sir. She must be a muggle."

"A what?" asked Marsea dumbly. She knew she must have still been dreaming, none of this made any sense. Witches did not exist, and they certainly didn't have their own school.

"She has no muggle blood in her, Arnold." Said Dumbledore, shaking his head slowly. "She's as magical as you or I, though I fear she may not have been informed." He looked kindly at Marsea. "Now, what is your name?"

She shifted uneasily. Half of her was unsure of whether to tell her name to people whom she had never met, especially not ones that were rambling on about 'muggles' and magic; and half of her was indignant that they didn't already know who she was. Her family was one of the wealthiest in England, they had an American city named after them!

Her pride got the best of her. "Marsea." She said proudly. "Marsea Brooklyn."

"Oh dear." Said Dumbledore thoughtfully, glancing at Arnold, who wore the same unreadable expression, "Brooklyn is your mother's name, is it not?"

Her proud air blew away, and she shivered. "How did you know that?"

Dumbledore didn't answer her. "You father, where is he?"

"Gone." Said Marsea sadly. "He- he disappeared about the same time I was born. I live with my-" She looked down, the night's events flooding back to her. "I lived with my mother and brother. But- I think they're dead now."

It was the Arnold's turn to say "Oh dear. What happened?"

She recalled the night's events to them in vivid detail. She didn't cry, but shook violently when she remembered how the burgundy stains had been so clear on the white walls and carpet. And her brother, she had cursed him for leaving the door unlocked, and he had probably already been dead, unless... Unless the murderer had still been in the house when she had gone downstairs... Why hadn't she been killed? She wondered for the first time. I her whole family had been slain, why hadn't she?

The men looked at her sadly when she finished. Dumbledore spoke first.
"How are you feeling now, Physically?"

"I'm all right, I guess. I was tired earlier, but now I am not. I just, I don't know why this happened to me."

"I have a few things to tell you." Said Dumbledore slowly. "If you're feeling up to hearing them, I mean. But you are going to need to believe me, and accept what I say, even if it seems farfetched."

Marsea nodded.

Suddenly two chairs appeared behind the two men and they sat down.

Dumbledore turned to the red-haired man. "You may leave if you wish, Arnold. I know you have had a very long night, and I appreciate all that you've done."

"If it's all the same, I'd like to stay. That is, if you don't mind, Marsea." He turned and looked at her.

"No, 'course not." She said, not really listening.

"Very well then," said Dumbledore, sighing. He began.

"A long time ago there were four very powerful people. They were magical, wizards to be precise. As am I, and Arnold here, and as are you, Marsea. Well, you are a witch." He paused, noting the look of disbelief on Marsea's face. "Yes, Marsea, you are a witch, although your mother would rather you weren't, but, back to the story. These four wizards were the most powerful in the world, and they were each quite different. They each valued very different personality traits, but they came together with a common goal: to build the school in which we now sit, 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' This school has been for hundreds of years the largest school of wizardry in Europe." He beamed proudly as he continued. "The four founders of this schooleach left their mark on the Hogwarts that still exists today.

"Godric Gryffindor, who valued bravery and Chivalry above all else, formed a house within the school in which students who exhibit these qualities reside. Rowena Ravenclaw, who valued knowledge and logical thinking, did the same. Helga Hufflepuff valued hard work and honesty above all else, and the students of Hufflepuff house are probably the kindest people you'll ever meet. On the other hand, the final house holds students of the, er, opposite caliber."

Marsea looked at him. "Are they mean?"

Dumbldore smiled. "The founder was Salazar Slytherin, who valued ambition and cunning. To him -and to the Slytherin students- power is the ultimate goal, and they will often use any means necessary to acquire what they desire." He smiled at his rhyme.

"Slytherin has turned out more dark wizards than all of the other houses combined," added Arnold Weasley, looking disgusted.

"Arnold was a Gryffindor," said Dumbledore, still smiling. "Gryffindors and Slytherins have historically not been the best of friends."

"Well no wonder," spat Arnold. "With gits like those Malfoys coming out of that damn house-"

"Arnold-" Warned Dumbledore, his smile fading.

But Marsea wasn't listening. "Malfoy?" she asked. "Did you say Malfoy? As is Lucius Malfoy?"

"Do you know the family?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, Lucius is my mum's friend. And his wife, Narcissa, she is my mum's friend too. They- they used to go shopping together. The Malfoys have a son. He's my age, but I've never met him. They said he went to some boarding school, right?"

"Draco is a student here. Your mother for some reason didn't want you to learn witchcraft, sop she must have told the Malfoys to keep it from you as well. They are a ver prominent wizarding family, as is yours, Miss Brooklyn."

Marsea smiled at hearing that her family was 'prominent,' but her smile faded quickly. "But why did my mum keep this from me? And my brother, too. Surely he didn't know."

"I'm not sure, Miss Brooklyn." Dumbledore tried to look sincere, but she couldn't help but think that he was hiding something from her. He stood up quickly. "I'm sure that there are Ministry wizards at your home this very instant investigating your situation, but I think that now you should really get some sleep. We'll figure it all out in the morning."

Marsea yawned. She hadn't realized how tired she was. The two men bid her 'Goodnight' and walked out of the room, and at the same time a tired-looking nurse popped in.

"Have they finally left you to sleep?" she huffed.

"Er, yeah." Smiled Marsea. The nurse snapped and the lights went out. Leaving Marsea alone in the darkness. She lay in bed, trying not to think of her family, trying to think of other things, but one thought kept coming into her head. 'What was the old man hiding?'

After what must have been an hour, she finally fell into a dreamless sleep.


*** Okay, well that's Chapter 1 or 2. It depends on if you count the prologue as a chapter. Thanks to all of who read and reviewed it. I hope that more people get into this story, it'll get interesting, I promise.
Next Chapter: We introduce Draco Malfoy, and learn more about Marsea's past. What house will she be in? How will she like school? Will she be able to learn all that she's missed? Who killed her family? Is she really as prissy as she appears? Find out soon!