AN: For a moment this fic was being posted under my other name EccentricDucky, so if you noticed that...well uh, that's why. A bit of confusion under which name it would be.

To those of you that reviewed (sadly they aren't showing up now because of the deleting, reposting, deleting, reposting I did) Thanks! I'm very glad that some of you are enjoying this.

I was shocked that I woke up. I honestly thought that I would never see the light of day again. Actually it wasn't really day when I woke up. It was dim, as if the sun was just setting, or maybe even rising. My eyes took their damned time to adjust, and for a moment my chest strained with pain. My head was throbbing, the kind of headache that hurt if you moved your head just right. So I was intent in laying in that bed I was in for as long as I could before moving.

All things considered I knew I wasn't at home, so I must have been in the hospital. I had to be in the hospital. I wondered if I should sit up to look around and see if there was a nurse or something around, when something clicked.

The ceiling looked strange. Stone.

Hospitals weren't made of stone. At least not in this day and age. I think this is when I really started to freak out. I mean, if I was in a hospital then I was fine, that meant I was alive, and by some grace of God managed to live through the accident. It meant that my parents would be somewhere nearby no doubt, and I'd be in trouble for wreaking my car—but at least I'd be alive. Some weird stone ceiling meant something weird was going on. I was probably dreaming something odd, maybe I was dead, and this was my afterlife? Maybe some hospitals really did have stone ceilings?

I didn't want to move to look around. My eyes kept looking straight ahead, upwards towards the stone ceiling above me. I felt like crying, and I was too—I could feel the wetness of tears drip down the sides of my face. Silent tears. I was scared.

People in general are never truly in pain at any point in their life, nor are they truly scared. For the most part our biggest pains are a broken arm (or something of the like) and our biggest fears are getting a F on that English exam. I'd really like for it to be that way now…but it isn't.

I was in pain, true pain. Now it was just throbbing, but still I knew true pain. I also knew fear now, fear of dying, fear of being some place I'm not supposed to. Fear of what is yet to come.

I don't want to be a baby about things. I really don't. I wish I could be strong. I wish I could have taken that pain without screaming, I wish I wasn't crying now. But, I was scared. I don't like being scared.

So I lay there, not knowing what was going on, not knowing where I was, and I really just only wanted…my parents. Yep, that's right I wanted to see my Mom's warm smile. I wanted to see my Dad's cocky grin. I wanted my hair to be ruffled and I wanted to be told "Everything's okay now kiddo."

I had a feeling I wouldn't get what I wanted.

I'm not sure how much time had passed, I was pretty busy feeling sorry for myself, crying, and trying not to think about the situation at hand too much (let me tell you, that whole not thinking of the situation…hard to do).

"Oh, your up." The voice came floating above my head somewhere, I didn't move to look at who was speaking, British. Well, I supposed it was better then hearing some deep dark voice that sounded as if it had been smoking for all eternity, welcoming me to the dark side.

I opened my mouth several times, and all that came out was a slight rasp before something was placed up to my lips, an order to drink came from the woman who I couldn't quite see. The liquid was freezing cold, I don't think I've ever felt something so cold, and it was foul tasting, I don't think I've ever tasted anything so bad (This was including my best friend and her peanut butter, mayo, cheese, and pickle sandwich) so it was pretty bad.

The good news was, that the throbbing started to stop near immediately, and I could get something other then a rasp from my mouth. "Where?"

The woman gave a thoughtful noise, as if she was trying to figure out what she should tell me. Or what she could tell me. After a moment when I thought she wasn't going to say anything she finally spoke in that clipped to-the-point voice of hers. "The hospital wing of course."

The hospital wing of what?

The answer of that was soon to be answered when what sounded like doors opening and closing filled the room. "I see our guest has awakened. Poppy if you please, I'd like to speak with her alone."

His voice was calm, gentle, and slightly old-man voice. I should know because he sounded like both of my Grandfathers. I was put at ease, at least enough to know that he was well…like I said, grandfatherly. Least voice wise, I didn't get a chance to see him since I was intent on looking straight up.

"Hullo dear." He told me, as I heard him dragging a chair to sit next to my bed with. I knew I should move my head, look at him, see who he was—but I was scared.

"H-hi."

"How are you feeling?"

How was I feeling? Scared. But I'm sure he meant more along the lines of, now that you aren't gushing blood from everywhere—how are you feeling. "A litt—little sore."

He made a noise, as if making a note to remind himself later of what I just said. For a few moments he was silent, and one of my hands played with the sheet that was laying over me.

"What's your name dear?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, he didn't know my name. That meant that I wasn't in a hospital, at least not one where I was supposed to be. So far two British accents, and a stone ceiling, well it made one assume certain things. It also made me assume that no one found my backpack that had my student ID in it.

"G-grace Wilson, sir." Sir seemed like a good thing to add on to the end of that statement. This man (or voice rather) struck me as a sir. As someone not to be messed with, as someone you shouldn't lie to.

"Wonderful name Miss. Wilson. I'm afraid I must ask, how did you get in such an injured state?"

I frowned, that was something I really didn't want to answer. Why didn't he know? Didn't they find me in my car? Wouldn't it have been obvious that I had bee in a car accident? I found it strange and more so scary that he didn't know that. Maybe someone brought me here? Then that someone didn't explain what happened?

Yeah, that must have been it.

"Car ac-accident." I really hope he didn't ask me exactly what happened in the car accident, I didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about the flipping, didn't want to think about the pain, how the blood felt…

"Oh." Was his simple response, and for a few seconds things were quiet again. I could barely hear something in the distance…an owl hooting maybe? And pondered over this while I lay there in silence.

It was now when I would find out where I was, and it was someplace I never would have thought possible. I mean, I must be in some sort of coma or something and this was all a dream, because the next words out of his mouth were as follows: "Well, I'm sure your wondering where you are?" Yep, I was. "You my dear, are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I squeaked, I mean I actually squeaked, and bolted right up in my bed.

Pain.

Followed with sudden dread.

I had gone insane.

I had to of.

I mean…Hogwarts?

I knew what Hogwarts was. I'm not daft. I read the Harry Potter books. I wasn't obsessed with them like some people sure, but I did read them over a few times just because I'm a bookworm. Which is why I got up so suddenly, because things were starting to click.

Poppy, the nurse was Madam Pomfrey, and the voice of the grandfatherly-type I was hearing would of course be Albus Dumbledore.

He looked rather alarmed when I shot up in such a manor. And let me tell you, I knew why I didn't get up when I first woke up. It HURT. My chest, my stomach, oh God it all hurt. That throbbing from before? Yeah, it came back full force.

While he looked alarmed sitting there in elegant purple robes, and a cap much akin to the one he wore in the third movie, he did speak calm. "I take it, you've heard of Hogwarts then?"

What should I say to that? What should I tell a fictional character? Should I tell him that yeah, I heard of Hogwarts…it's a fictional place in a book I've read? I didn't know what to do. The throbbing was getting more and more vicious. Like a stabbing at my side. I thought menstrual cramps were bad? This was ten million times worse.

He watched me carefully.

Damn it. Wasn't Dumbledore supposed to be an all knowing Yoda or something?

So I told him, I told him everything.

Then, I passed out.