Disclaimer: I don't own Diagon Alley, Nott manor, or strangely pointed toes.

Liza was rather bewildered as she entered Diagon Alley. Like most muggle-born first years (which she was, in a sense), she was taking in enough new sights, sounds, and smells to put her mind on sensory overload. Unlike a first-year, though, she was going to be expected to pass as one of them in order to get the robes, books, and materials needed in her new mission.

Therefore, she was strictly forbidden from pointing, gawking, or asking questions that drew attention to her. It was absolutely necessary to security that she behave as if she'd been seeing these things for a decade. The books were easy enough- she was simply allowed to browse at will while Jeremy found them. The apothecary was the same, though it smelled rather worse and it was a bit boring waiting. The hardest part was the robes, which she would have to get without Jeremy's help while he waited outside. It had sounded rather easier to get fitted for clothing before she was inside, being approached by busybody witches expecting her share opinions on the latest brooms and the teaching styles of Hogwarts professors.

When she'd finally finished and taken her first ever floo journey to the Nott manor and Jeremy had left, she started to let loose with endless questions about what she'd seen, only to be cut off by the charming Mr. Nott, Senior, a short, squat man in his forties. She shook his hand in greeting, but she'd hardly had a chance to say her name before receiving the first of many rebuffs.

"Toes pointed outward while standing idle, that's a proper witch," he said. Apparently it wasn't, though, because he made her point them four different ways before they were up to his standards. No sooner had her toes been fixed than her chin was pushed down. "You're in the presence of a wizard more than five years your senior, for Agrippa's sake, chin down!"

"Now really, father, please be patient," said a, a sandy-haired man about her age who had to be Theodore. "She's never heard any of this before; how would she know?"

"No time like the present to learn, then," replied Nott Sr. "The slightest mistake in the Ministry of Magic and it's all downhill!"

"I'm sorry about my father," sighed Theodore. "It's just that this stuff's been drilled into him since birth, and he's rather overexcited about being allowed to help the Order in a more hands-on position. Anyway, you must be exhausted! Let me show you to your room."

The manor was lovely. If she hadn't found out just that morning that she was to start magic lessons tomorrow, and if she wasn't being plagued by doubts about how well she could handle a highly dangerous top-secret mission, Liza might have slept quite well.

The morning passed rather quietly, considering, until the housekeeper tried to give Liza her first potion. It had taken a while for Theodore to explain that these were perfectly safe, even though he and his father weren't sure precisely what would happen. After breakfast and a few more etiquette lessons, the part she'd been waiting for began. She tried to levitate her first feather. Apparently, this was a first step at Hogwarts, although few people had ever performed it wandless.

Six potions, eight charms, and two hexes later, nothing had happened (thankfully, the hex had been directed at Theodore, who was perfectly capable of defending himself. Her matchsticks still weren't needles, her flowers still weren't purple, and the feather remained stubbornly on the ground. The room was littered with books about teaching and magical theory, and it seemed as if Project Coup was never going to happen.

I didn't expect it, but I think we're going to see some Professor Higgins/Colonel Pickering interaction, except that Mr. Nott, Sr. is married. Comments welcome, criticism as well as good things.