Chapter 1

"This place is so boring!" exclaimed Natasha as she and her elder sister Cassandra sat in the drawing room of the huge Victorian style Bed & Breakfast listening to a harpist.

"Whatever," Cassandra sneered attempting to bury her face further into her magazine. She stood out against the cream settee in her black Green Day t-shirt and her long black corduroy skirt which fell all the way to her army boots. Barely visible between boot and hemline were a pair of black and white striped stockings. She had taken it a bit easy on the make-up since they were on vacation so it was just a little eye make-up around her bright, azure eyes and a dark red lipstick. She definitely couldn't be bothered to do her curly, red hair properly and had just pulled it back in a messy bun.

"C'mon, let's go for a walk," Nat said tugging at Cassandra's hand.

"If it'll shut you up," Cassandra followed her sister out of the house and into the huge garden off to one side.

Cassandra knew that her father was in search of his roots. He had always said that his wife had been his anchor, but since the untimely death of Alexandra Lambton he had been adrift. Cassandra didn't really have an opinion on the matter. Her mother had never really been a mother to her. She wasn't a girly girl who wore pink and obsessed over boys. Alex Lambton had dreamed of girls' nights with makeovers and manicures, but she had had to wait a few years until Natasha had reached the 'tween years to get that. But even Natasha's share of girls' nights had been cut short when her mother had died suddenly from an aneurysm. Despite all of this, Natasha would not stop bitching and griping about this stupid vacation their father had dragged them on.

"Melissa Craig's parents took her to Hawaii. If we have to go somewhere with nothing to do there could at least be a beach. You know Mike Mills? He asked me out on the last day of school, but of course we were leaving for the back of beyond so I had to…"

David Lambton had checked them into this B&B and then set off in search of genealogists and old graveyards abandoning his daughters to the care of the elderly couple who ran the house.

Cassandra attempted to ignore her sister and, upon hearing that there was a football lying nearby, hunched her shoulders as though she could disappear behind her magazine.

"Look," Natasha called out. "Wanna play?"

"No," Cassandra said as Natasha jogged to retrieve the ball.

"Oh come on," called Natasha who was also blessed with the talent of being a girly jock. She began dribbling the ball expertly around. "If you don't block I'm going to score," she threatened as she headed in Cassandra's direction.

"Oh, no," Cassandra said dryly. "Please don't score."

Natasha wound up and hit the ball. It hit the magazine in which Cassandra had buried her face. Cassandra slumped over and fell back on the grass.

"Oops."

"Are ye' all righ'?"

Cassandra could feel a pounding in her head as she slowly regained consciousness. She blinked her eyes and stared, petrified, at the gigantic and wild figure of the man standing over her.

She tried to scream, to move, to do anything, but her voice was trapped in her throat and her limbs were still heavy from her black out.

"Can I get ye' summat?"

Silently Cassandra shook her head. He was huge and scary, but he seemed nice enough.

"Can ye' stand up?"

Cassandra felt her tongue loosen and was finally able to reply. "Yeah, I think so."

"What happened to ye'?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.

She felt her feet leave the ground for the moment before he set her back on them. "I think…I think I got hit in the face by a…a football."

"Football? You must be muggle-born. On'y other witch or wizard I know likes football is Dean and he's half and half."

Cassandra heard all of the words, she knew what…most of them meant individually, but she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing and suddenly she felt the world tilt.

"Where's my sister?" she asked looking around.

"I found ye' lying there on yer own. I didn't see anyone else 'sides you."

"My sister was playing around with the ball and I think she kicked it at my head. Am I bruised?"

"A bit 'round the forehead. Look, ye' want to come to my house and I'll get ye' some tea? Build ye' up a bit before you head home?"

"Home? I'm here on vacation…with my family."

"Vacation? At Hogwarts?"

Cassandra's frustration was beginning to overpower her reason and logic. "What are you talking about? I'm staying at the Bed & Breakfast nearby. What's Hogwarts? Also, what's this about witches and wizards? Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Hold on are ye' telling me that yer a muggle?"

"What's a muggle?"

"Oh yer definitely a muggle. Non-magic folk, I should say."

"Wait. That's crazy. In order for there to be non-magic folk there would need to be magic folk. And that's just crazy."

"Oh, I'm in it now. I shouldna told you that. Look, yer gonna have to come up to the school with me and have yer memory modified."

"Modified? I don't think so." Cassandra looked past the giant and saw an enormous castle looming over her. She was fairly positive that it hadn't been there before. She blinked, but it was still there. "When you say school, do you mean that place?" She pointed at the huge castle.

"Tha's it. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Seriously, you're just messing with me, right?"

"'Fraid not."

"Okay, I'll go with you just to see inside of that place."

They started walking towards the castle.

"Where ye' from anyway?" the giant man asked her.

"California. In America."

"What are ye' doin' all the way out here?"

"My dad's idea. He's looking for his roots. Whatever that means," she grumbled. After a few more moments of silence she asked, "What's your name by the way?"

"Reubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Though mos' folks call me Hagrid. And yerself?"

"Cassandra Lambton, people call me…Cassandra."

Cassandra saw what she thought was a smile as Hagrid glanced down at her, before he walked her on towards the castle.

As they arrived at the entrance to the castle, Cassandra could not believe her eyes. The castle was so large and ornate. It only got better once they entered. Hagrid coached her on which stairs to jump because they were "enchanted" or something like that. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a figure in a painting moving, but was sure that couldn't be so until she looked squarely at one of them and realized that they were in fact moving.

"Hagrid?" she asked with a tinge of fear in her voice.

"Yeah?" he glanced back at her.

"Are the pictures…are they…?"

"Yeah, they're movin'." She heard the smile in his voice, but knew there would be no further explanation.

They finally reached a door that was guarded by two gargoyles.

"Ice Mice," Hagrid said.

Cassandra was about to ask him what he was talking about when the door opened to reveal the strangest escalator she had ever seen. It was a moving spiral staircase. Hagrid stepped on and she followed. At the top, he knocked softly on the griffin knocker and waited.

From inside a voice called out "Enter" and he pushed open the door and they walked into a strange circular room. She marveled at the portraits on the wall for a moment, but the penetrating stare of an old man in purple robes caught her attention. Hagrid told the old man the story and she sat and looked around. There were so many weird and very cool things in this room. An old hat, a shiny sword, and a bunch of little moving doodads all over.

"Cassandra, how do you feel?" the old man asked her as he peered over the glasses perched precariously on his crooked nose.

"Um…I feel fine, thanks."

"You're American, I think?" He stated more than asked.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Not a clue," she said with a smile. He returned it and studied her a bit closer.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am the Headmaster of this school. I am a bit concerned with your predicament."

"You are?" she said her smile dropping a bit.

"Yes, you see, the Bed and Breakfast that you claim to be staying at…well it does not exist."

"Of course it does."

"No, in fact, if you are a muggle, er non-magic person, you should not even be here. Our castle is charmed so that any muggle that comes near the grounds instantly becomes confused and wanders away. So, it remains to be seen how you ended up on our grounds at all."

"So you're saying that in order for me to even be inside this castle I have to be…magical?"

"Yes, you would have to possess some magical aptitude," Dumbledore nodded. Without saying another word Dumbledore stood up and went to his spindly table of strange, shiny doodads and picked one up. He brought it over to his desk and fiddled with it using a long, skinny stick that Cassandra could only assume was a wand. Steam appeared to be coming from the thing and made funny shapes in the air. Dumbledore appeared to be reading the shapes in the steam as he was studying it and nodding. "Not of this world," he muttered to himself.

Cassandra sat in silence while Dumbledore pondered the meaning of the steam.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore, if you won' be needin' me, I'll jus' be off." Hagrid stood up and turned to Cassandra. "Well, good luck to yeh Cassandra."

"Thanks for your help Hagrid," she called almost cheerily to the gigantic man.

When the door shut behind Hagrid, Dumbledore looked up at Cassandra.

"It is clear to me that you do not belong here. In our world, you are in fact a witch. An unstudied witch, no doubt, but a witch nonetheless. I myself am a considerably well-studied and skilled wizard, but even this situation poses a problem for me. A spell must be found to return you to your own world, but I will have to research it and I am not sure how long that will take."

"But my dad and my sister…"

"Will most likely consider you a missing person until that time."

Cassandra liked to pretend that she was tough, but even this news hit home. Her face crumpled and she started crying. "I'm sorry," she sputtered between sobs. "It's just…we lost my mom last February and now…it'll just…"

Dumbledore stood up swiftly and moved to Cassandra's side. He put a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I will do my best to return you to your family as soon as possible. In the meantime, I will have to sort you into a house and find you a place to rest your weary head." He smiled benevolently at her and she sniffed and hiccoughed a bit as she wiped her eyes.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Pulling the old ripped hat off of a shelf in the bookcase behind his desk he walked around and plopped it unceremoniously on her head.

Hmm, well, you're clever, it's true, but there is a courage that cannot be ignored. You want to prove yourself which makes you perfect for—

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted out loud.

Cassandra was terribly unsettled by the voice in her head and she felt a bit cheated. She had not known that her mind would be invaded at one of her weakest moments. Though being told she was clever made her feel a bit better. Not knowing what the heck Gryffindor was, she just succumbed to the fact that she would be stuck here for a bit.

"I will walk you to the Great Hall where lunch is currently in session." They stood and headed down the moving stairs and out into the hall. Dumbledore moved back towards the entrance of the school and began talking again. "You will receive some basic magic lessons from our professors during their free time. I would advise you not to make them feel as though they are wasting their time. Now, for a wand. Normally, a student would acquire their wand before their first year outside of school, but we will take you to the local village this weekend and I will have Ollivander meet us there with a selection of wands for you to choose from. Until you have your wand, be at peace, you will be unable to perform even the most basic, rudimentary spells."

Cassandra barely took in the words as they walked. She felt a bit dizzy and swayed. Stopping abruptly, she held herself up by leaning on a wall.

"Are you feeling all right?" Dumbledore asked her kindly.

"I'm just a bit dizzy."

"Ah, perhaps instead of the noise of the Great Hall you would prefer the solace of the Hospital Wing?"

"Actually food sounds great, but I would prefer not to…um…"

"Of course, we'll save your introduction to the entire populace of the school for a more fortuitous occasion. Will that do?"

"Yes, thank you."

"In the meantime, I will deposit you here," he gestured to an empty classroom, "with some lunch."

Once closed inside of an empty room, save the desks pushed against the walls, Cassandra sat down and ate the lunch that had mysteriously appeared out of thin air. She chewed on her sandwich thoughtfully and pondered her situation. Her father would be devastated she knew. She wondered how Natasha would take losing her sister. Had she disappeared into thin air or had Natasha run off to get help and returned to find her gone? Then her curiosity turned towards the other students in the school. What did they wear at a magic school? Would she make any friends in the (hopefully) short time she would be there? She picked up the glass of pumpkin juice tentatively and sniffed it.

"It's not poisoned if Dumbledore conjured it," said a male voice from the doorway. She looked over and saw a stout-looking, red-headed boy standing there.

"I wasn't worried about being poisoned," she spat at him angrily.

"Wow, with that attitude I'm surprised you weren't sorted into Slytherin."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Bit too slow for Ravenclaw anyway."

"What the—" She put her head in her hands took a deep breath. "Look, I'm new, I have no idea what's happening around here and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't actively make things harder for me. Let's start with something easy. What's your name?"

He eyed her for a moment as though sizing her up. "You're wearing some funny clothes."

"That's your name?" she smirked at him.

"No, of course that's not my name. It was a general remark. Anyway, my name is Fred. Yours?"

"Cassandra."

"Are you finished there?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Dumbledore asked me to come fetch you and take you up to Gryffindor tower." He entered the room and took a seat across the table from Cassandra.

"So, Cassie," he started.

"Cassandra," she corrected him.

"Too many syllables," he shot back at her.

"Only my mother can call me Cassie," she snapped.

He put his hands in the air and said, "Peace, I didn't mean to offend you."

They sat in silence as she sipped her pumpkin juice.

"This is pretty good," she took a deep gulp. "More refreshing then I would've thought pumpkins could be."

"You've never had it before?"

"The only thing we use pumpkins for in California is pie and only at Thanksgiving."

"What's Thanksgiving?"

The conversation became oddly polite as they shared cultural stories and traditions while Cassandra finished her lunch. She stood up, hesitant, waiting for the dizziness to set in, but lunch seemed to do the trick. She looked over at Fred.

"Take me to the tower," she gave him a smile to show there were no hard feelings.

He took her through some of his favorite shortcuts which thoroughly confused her and then told her the password as they approached the portrait of the fat lady.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia? What the heck is that?"

The portrait swung forward upon hearing the password and they climbed through the hole into the Gryffindor common room. Fred pointed her towards a doorway that led up to the girls' dormitory.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm eighteen."

"Oh then you'll be seventh year. The door has a seven on it. You'll be rooming with Angelina Johnson, she's the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

"The who with the what now?"

"Nevermind. The important thing to know is that she's brilliant and she'll set you straight on most things. Tell her you're a friend of mine," he added, then paused. "On second thought, don't tell her that. I don't think it would win you brownie points."

She sighed and headed up the stairs stopping at a door that did indeed have a seven on it. Swinging the door open, she was pleased to see that it was currently empty. It had been one of the longest days of her life. She had no idea what to expect in the future and more than ever before she wanted the company of her mother. Lying back on the only uninhabited bed in the room, as far as she could tell, she took advantage of her solitude to have a good pity cry.