Sadly, I must say that anything that goes in J.K. Rowling's marvelous Harry Potter books is not mine. Meaning Hogwarts, Harry Potter, the Knight Bus, and so on. Although, Kaelie, Ibyss, Mrs. Pulaski, and other people that Kaelie meets that you people don't know who the person is whatsoever is mine. MINE I TELL YOU! But. If you do decide to sue me, that's fine with me, you can have my two cats, my easy mac, my old polly pockets, and Barbie dolls. The computer and my Rent CD stays with me.

I think I shall calm down now. I accept Flames like my old friends. So, be welcome to write them, but I much prefer nice reviews, thank you very much. I would like to give a lot of credit to my friend Meghaelie Green who helped me throughout the whole plot and storyline and beta'ed for me. Check out her fabulous story, The Love of a Father.

Santa Fe

My Old Friend

I can't spend my whole life hidin'

You're the only light that's guiding me today

Will you keep a candle burnin'?

Will you help me find my way?

You're my chance

To break free

And who knows when the next one might be

Santa Fe

Wait for me

[Santa Fe Newsies]

Hazel eyes stared at the budged door willing it to move forward with the entrance of a visitor or her invitation for dinner. Kaelie Greenwich sighed as she stood up. She was docked--or in your words, grounded. Why? Just for attempting to eat a biscuit. She was starved and always forced to clean the dishes, polish the wooden floors of the monotonous building, or to help out with the younger children.

The Betty Orphanage for Children was not the best place to be--especially with its location being on the nastier side of London. Any minute, Kaelie could be thrown out into the streets where crooks and bandits roamed around, praying on children, women, and the elderly.

A sudden knock on the door was heard. Kaelie sat back down onto the worn out cot that she had slept in every night of her entire life--or as much of it as she could remember. She had been living at the orphanage since her birth. Her soft muted light brown hair fell upon her shoulders as the door with its creaky hinges opened. A tiny and rather frail child appeared to be standing under the frame of it.

"Ibyss." Kaelie brought a smile upon her pastel lips after saying the familiar name. The eleven year old motioned for the girl to come towards her and sit with her on her cot.

Ibyss's golden curls bounced around as she shook her head. "I'm not allowed, but Ms. Pulaski says to come down for supper," The adorable four year old explained in her hoarse, young voice.

"I'll be down soon," Kaelie said with a nod towards the girl as Ibyss left, closing the creaky door behind her.

Kaelie stood up, heading out of the door. The orphanage was a big building, fairly dreary and melancholy. There was hardly any light except for small candles damply lit hanging off the black brick walls. It was the type of place that would frighten most visitors and hopeful parents away from it and all of its propinquity.

The thin child stepped carefully down each of the twelve moaning steps. Ms. Pulaski glared up at her from the kitchen at the landing. "Child," she said calmly through her tightly clenched jaw. "You're late for supper."

"I'm sorry, Miss. Ibyss just informed me."

"Don't blame everything on Ibyss. She's a four year old child for God's sake." The spiteful head mistress sniffed pompously. "If you don't get to the table, you won't have any supper at all."

Kaelie nodded solemnly. She walked over to the large dining hall, sitting on a tattered stilted chair next to her four year old friend. There was not much food to spare--just pieces of stale bread, not fully cooked pasta, and pieces of dark chicken. She reached across the wooden table for the pitcher of water as an owl with a regal appearance and bearing a rather peculiar crest flew in, dropping a large envelope with emerald green script onto Kaelie's dinner plate.

The children of the orphanage giggled and pointed at the owl as it flew. Pets were not permitted inside of the orphanage under any circumstances, and who had ever heard of an owl flying by in broad daylight? Ibyss covered her mouth in both astonishment and horror and looked at the envelope. "Open it, Kay!" she demanded.

It was abnormal enough. A letter for a helpless eleven year old who knew no one outside of the orphanage? But the letter was addressed to her, Miss K. Greenwich, the drafty bedroom farthest from the furnace, Betty Orphanage for Children, London, England, and it read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Greenwich,

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 September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

The next page of parchment went on to list the uniform requirements, course books, and other equipment Kaelie would need for school. She gasped. Could it be? Magic? But no, it wasn't real. It can't be real. No way, magic could never be real, could it? This had to be a sick joke made up by one of the older boys. Kaelie turned around abruptly as she heard a loud shriek.

"Young lady, I demand you give me that paper!" The familiar voice came closer and closer, causing her heart rate to rapidly speed up and her palms turn sweaty. Kaelie sighed pitifully and handed the paper to Mrs. Pulaski. The elder woman gaped at the child, screeching, "How foolish! I should you kick you out of the orphanage just for making a piece of ridiculous nonsense like this."

Kaelie stood up. "Please don't," she petitioned. "I really didn't write it."

"A likely story," the plump woman sneered skeptically. She firmly grabbed Kaelie by the ear, steering her in the direction of the door. Mrs. Pulaski didn't even mind the small children watching with horror-stricken expressions.

A few moments later, Kaelie was shivering and possession less, leisurely walking through the foul streets of London. Homeless strangers stared at the little girl as she walked, and a single tear strolled down from Kaelie's left eye. Rain began to drizzle down from the dreary gray sky, as it could get very cold and wet in this area of the country.

She sat down at the curb of the concrete sidewalk where water streaming down from the gutters of old buildings could not reach her. Kaelie sighed miserably. Picking up a smooth, long stick, she threw it into the small puddles along the side of the busy road, watching tiny splashes form from the water droplets.

Sparks suddenly appeared in the air in front of Kaelie's hazel eyes. The front of a bus appeared, then the middle division, and finally the rear appeared. The bus looked like a triple decker but truly had too much purple to it. In proud gold letters, the words "Knight Bus" were fixed to the vehicle's front. The large door swung open, and an elderly man with thick glasses was grinning at her. Soon enough, another man jumped down, wearing a matching purple uniform. He had quite large ears and lots of pimples despite his obviously more mature age, Kaelie observed.

"Hello. You called for the Knight Bus?" The big-eared man showed off his missing tooth when he talked.

"The Knight Bus?" she repeated. Kaelie stood up, confused. "What's the Knight Bus?"

The man gasped. "You don't know what the Knight Bus is? Oh, the shame!"

"Oh the shame!" The man sitting on the driver's seat repeated.

"The 'orror!" The first man pretended to faint.

The second one stood up from his seat, looking at the giggling girl. "I think you killed him," he commented soberly.

"Never fear, I'm alive little girl. I am Stan Shunpike, the conductor of the Knight Bus. This is the bus driver, Ernie Prang! Eh, Ern?" Ernie grinned, tipping off his hat. "And the Knight Bus is for stranded witches and wizards to get around. Your certainly are a witch, correct?" Stan asked.

"A witch?" Kaelie looked at him questionably.

"You mean you're a Muggle?"

"A Muggle?"

"Kids these days," Ernie muttered discretely.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just got a letter to Hogwits or another school like that."

"Hogwarts. "Stan corrected her automatically. "Then your surely a witch!"

"Um. How do I get there?"

"By the train of course! First you need to go to Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley?"

"Hogwarts," Stan corrected her automatically. "Then you're surely a witch!"

"Um. How do I get to this Hogwarts?" she asked.

"By the train of course! First you need to go to Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley?"

"Why Diagon Alley, where you shop for robes, your cauldron, potions supplies, and your school books!" Stan looked to the right. "We're headin' towards there right now. Come on aboard, and we'll take you there. Eleven pence--I think that's the term in Muggle money--please."

Kaelie frowned, sticking her frail hands into her ragged dress pocket, noticing how there was no bottom in it. "I don't have any money."

Stan gazed at the depressed girl. "Alright. Fine. I'll let you come for free, only because you're a sweet little girl."

Kaelie smiled and stepped gradually up the stairs.

"Now this is where you'll be seated, or shall I say, sleeping." Stan lead her to a brass four-poster bed. "I'll be your conductor this evening and enjoy your stay." He grinned and headed for Ernie who had started the engine once more.

Kaelie sat on the bed, kicking off her shoes. "Wow. This is quite comfortable," she observed. She fluffed up her pillows as the bus came to another stop. A man of average build stepped on. She watched as Stan led the man to the bed across the aisle from hers. "Enjoy your stay, my friend." Kaelie heard him mutter.

A few moments later, the bus was back on track to its bumpy ride, and Kaelie looked to the man. She noticed he had very untidy black hair, longer in some spots. Bottle green eyes gazed around, and when he turned to one angle, Kaelie could observe a scar on his forehead. The strange thing was that it was in a shape of a lightning bolt. He looked like he was in his mid twenties or so, but she didn't have much experience with estimating the ages of men at the Betty Orphanage.

Kaelie broke the staring match and spoke first. "Hello," she greeted him.

The man gazed at her, his mystical green eyes opening up in surprise. "Could it be?" he murmured. "No, it couldn't possibly be--it's just a coincidence, I'm sure." He reached for his scar on his forehead, which was blatantly paining him, then stood up. "I think I shall get off here," he stammered decisively, hurrying up to the front of the bus while it was still in motion.

"Already?" Stan teased, pouting playfully.

"I'm afraid so. I have some business to do." The man stepped off the bus as quickly and as mysteriously as he had boarded it.

Kaelie stared out at the window as he walked through the drizzling streets of London. Who was he? He was very odd, the way he had reacted to her. What was that scar? Was it hurting him? Soon enough, the child fell fast asleep with her mind still bubbling with thoughts about the peculiar man.

                                                           



…Thas all for the first chapter. Really hope you all liked it. Review? Please? Ehf. Next chapter'll be up soon. I promise.