DISCLAIMER: I am not the amazing author of the HP series, nor will I ever claim to own any of her amazing characters. However, I do take credit for this plot and Cassandra, as I have put quite a few hours into it.

A/N: Holaaa! And I've managed to punch out another chapter so soon. This chapter is very long, so please enjoy! I would like to point out that I (probably) won't always be this fast with updates, so take it while you can, and please review!

OoOoO

Cass concentrated on the feather in front of her. She was in her room, sitting on her bed. It was very late at night, but Cass was far from tired.

Cass had been doing this for the better part of the last few days. First, she had tried to light a candle. Simple, right? Wrong. The wick hadn't even flickered and the result was a discouraged, but still determined Cass.

Next, she had tried to 'use the force' and make her grandparents forget the fact that Cass had kept the letters from them. Whew, if they had been mad before, Cass's grandparents' anger was tenfold. In fact, Cass wouldn't have been surprised if they lit a candle.

After that, Cass tried to talk to a bird that was in her Thoughtful Tree. She had gotten excited when the bird got a look of contentment on its face, before realizing that it was…relieving…itself. Instead of a wicked new bird friend, Cass had gotten a face full of poop. So much for the third eye, Cass had thought bitterly, before storming into the house. She had been greeted by very amused grandparents.

Now, somewhere between two and three in the morning, Cass was determined to make the feather in front of her rise in the air, if only an inch. The feather had come from a pillow on her bed.

Come on, do something! Anything! Twitch! Cass begged it. She was starting to get annoyed; she was a witch, wasn't she? Professor McGonagall had turned a teacup into a ball! Cass wasn't trying something so grand, she just wanted to lift a feather. Cass closed her eyes and willed the feather to rise, pushing her mind out, reaching for something deep inside her. Cass imagined the feather rising just a little, concentrating very hard on that image. Sure it was working, Cass opened her eyes.

The feather was still laying on the bed, almost innocently. Mockingly.

"Ugh! Stupid feather! Stupid magic! What good is being a witch if you can't make a feather float?" Cass growled to herself angrily. She swung her legs out of the bed, deciding to take a break and get some milk from the kitchen. As she stormed out of her room, Cass didn't notice the small feather float high into the air above her blue bed.

OoOoO

Cass stared into her bathroom mirror, taking in her appearance. Brilliant green eyes stared back at her, framed by dark, curly—but not unmanageable—hair. In the morning sunlight coming through the window, you could just see a reddish tint around the edges of Cass's hair.

Cass's face was slightly tan from constantly being outside, and she had high cheekbones. She wore a white, sleeveless blouse and jeans. In her arm, she held her favorite green hoodie.

Cass opened a drawer under the bathroom sink and took out a hair-tie for her wrist, in case her hair needed to be pulled back. Satisfied with her appearance, Cass left the bathroom and headed towards the living room.

Today was a very big day. Today, Professor McGonagall would take Cass to Diagon Alley, where they would get all of her school supplies. And my wand, Cass added excitedly.

Cass was pacing the room anxiously, anticipating the professor's arrival. Her grandparents, who were sitting on the couch, watched her amusedly.

Finally, Cass's grandpa couldn't take it any longer. "Cass, sweetheart, you are going to drive me insane with that incessant pacing. Professor McGonagall will get here when she gets here. Walking around in circles won't—" he was cut off by Cass's head whipping toward the front door, right before the doorbell rang.

"She is here!" Cass cried, running to answer the door. Her grandparents just exchanged a look, but said nothing about Cass's clairvoyance.

Cass yanked open the door, forgetting to unlock the chain in her haste to see the professor. Embarrassed, Cass closed the door again, unlocked the chain, and then opened the door, very red in the face.

Professor McGonagall stood on the porch, this time in black robes. Her face was still very stern, but her eyes twinkled in amusement. Great, she probably thinks I'm an idiot, Cass thought to herself. Shrugging off her embarrassment, she invited the older woman inside.

"Good morning, Ms. Cassandra," said Professor McGonagall, stepping into the house.

"Good morning, Professor," Cass replied. Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Jimmy came into the foyer, wearing welcoming smiles.

"Good to see you again, Professor McGonagall. Would you like some tea?" Grandma Joyce asked.

Professor McGonagall nodded, "That would be lovely. Thank you."

The three adults moved to the living room while Cass closed the door. Craning her neck, Cass tried to see Professor McGonagall's car, only a little surprised when the only car to be found was her grandpa's old Mercedes.

In the living room, Professor McGonagall was just adding milk to her tea when Grandpa Jimmy asked, "Professor, do wizards use pounds?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "No, we use coins called Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons." At Cass's grandparents' questioning looks, she continued, "Twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon."

Although Cass's grandpa still looked confused (a Galleon? Like a Spanish warship?), he nodded and asked another question. "Is there a way to convert pounds to…Galleons?"

"Yes, if you could provide some…pounds…for Ms. Cassandra, we can go to Gringotts—that is the wizard bank—and convert them to Galleons there." Cass found it amusing that both Grandpa Jimmy and Professor McGonagall had been uncomfortable in saying the other's form of currency. The witch continued, "I believe it is about five pounds per Galleon. A wand costs seven Galleons, so take that and all of Ms. Cassandra's school supplies, she should need about forty-five pounds, maybe a little more if she is to buy something extra." Cass's grandparents glanced at each other, but soon nodded. Cass felt a twinge of guilt. They had always had so little money…

"If there aren't any more questions?" asked Professor McGonagall asked, putting down her tea.

Cass's grandparents quickly stood up. "No…well, yes—it isn't often one comes across a wizarding world—but, Cass is quite excited and I don't want to hold her up," replied Grandma Joyce, giving a knowing look to Cass, who quickly jumped up.

Professor McGonagall stood and shook each of Cass's grandparents' hands. Cass was bouncing with excitement. I'm going to get a wand! I'm going to a magical alley!

Grandma Joyce gestured to Cass, who followed her into the kitchen. Cass watched as her grandma pulled out her purse and counted out forty-eight pounds and handed them to her. "Cass…I can't believe this is real. A witch? I always knew you were special, and this just proves it. I know the professor said you'll only need forty-five pounds, but this should get you a little something more. Buy something…magical." Cass hugged her grandmother, who hugged her tightly back.

"Thank you, Grandma. I love you so much!"

Cass and Grandma Joyce walked to the foyer. Grandpa Jimmy and Professor McGonagall stood there, waiting for Cass. When she came in, Grandpa Jimmy gave Cass a hug and tugged on one of her curls. "You behave for the professor, you hear me?" he said sternly, flashing Cass a smile to show her that he knew she would.

"I will."

Grandpa Jimmy nodded and then took Grandma Joyce's hand as Cass walked over to a cubby to the right of the front door, where a small, beige backpack was stored. Putting her hoodie and the forty-eight pounds in it, Cass slung it over one shoulder. She had already put one of the many Hogwarts letters containing the supply list in the backpack. Cass walked to the front door and let Professor McGonagall out.

Cass's grandparents waved from the house and Cass waved back before following Professor McGonagall to the street. Curious, she watched as the witch stuck out her right arm at the kerb.

BANG! A wall of purple appeared in front of Cass. She stumbled back, eyes widening. Professor McGonagall simply said, "This is the Knight Bus, one of the ways of transportation in the wizarding world, if not the fastest way. We will be taking it to Diagon Alley." Looking at it again, Cass could see it was a triple-decker bus with gold lettering that spelled The Knight Bus.

Just then, the doors opened outward and a young conductor in purple clothes proclaimed, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan—"

"—Mr. Shunpike, please save the speech. I am here to escort this young witch to Diagon Alley and we're a bit pressed for time, so if you could just allow us passage, it would be appreciated." Professor McGonagall interrupted Stan. The young—maybe twenty-one or twenty-two years old—man looked taken aback that his speech was interrupted, but allowed them to enter the bus.

"'Course, Professor. 'Choo want 'ot chocolate, miss?" asked Stan. Cass shook her head; she had eaten not long before Professor McGonagall had arrived.

Stan turned towards Professor McGonagall and asked, "Where 'choo wanna go, Professor?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, Mr. Shunpike," replied the older witch, taking silver from her robes and handing it to Stan. He nodded and led them deeper into the bus.

Cass's eyes widened. She had been expecting regular bus seats, but, instead, there were beds. Curtained windows let in light, and, despite it being day, candles were burning in brackets mounted on the wood-paneled walls. Stan led the professor and Cass over to two beds in the corner. Cass sat down on one of the beds and Professor McGonagall sat down on the other, a faint look of distaste on her face.

Suddenly, Stan yelled, "Take 'er away, Ern!" With that, the bus lurched forward with a loud BANG! Cass tumbled backwards, now flat on the bed. Somehow, Professor McGonagall had managed to stay upright. Stan had as well, and he was watching Cass' struggle to get back up with a look of enjoyment on his face. Cass glared at him and Professor McGonagall scowled.

Looking outside the window, Cass was stunned to see that they were in completely different surroundings. Instead of the street Cass had grown up riding bikes on, they were now in a lane sheltered by trees. In the middle of the lane was a car—and the bus was headed straight for it!

Cass almost got up, almost yelled at the driver to stop, they were going to crash, but she stopped herself. She didn't See them crashing and, sure enough, they didn't. But Cass only grew more confused as the car bent around the bus, which just kept driving at an insanely fast speed.

Cass turned to Professor McGonagall, questions written all over her face. Professor McGonagall looked like she had expected this and said, "The Knight Bus is designed to avoid crashes, which is why it is able to go this fast and not have a single accident."

"But how do people not see it? How can they not feel themselves…" Cass searched for a word to use. "…stretching around the bus?"

"They ain't looking properly, are they? Don' see nuffink, Muggles," Stan put in. Cass couldn't believe that no one—except witches and wizards, of course—saw this. However, she kept her doubts to herself and watched the trees zoom by.

BANG! The bus stopped again, this time in a park. The doors opened and Cass could here Stan giving a speech—a whole speech, like he's rehearsed it and everything—to someone. Stan stepped back, allowing the witch or wizard in.

A young witch entered the bus. She wore bright pink robes and a matching hat. Stan led her to a bed in the front and with another BANG, the Knight Bus was on the road again.

For the next ten minutes, Cass just watched in amazement as the bus was transported to place after place, sometimes letting people off, sometimes letting them on. After the first five minutes, the shock was wearing off. After seven minutes, Cass was starting to get a headache, caused from the loud BANG's and the intense speeds. With a jolt, Cass recalled what Professor McGonagall had said earlier. "This is the Knight Bus, one of the ways of transportation in the wizarding world, if not the fastest way." Not the fastest? What could be faster than a magical, teleporting bus? Cass wasn't sure she wanted to know.

After nine minutes of riding on the Knight Bus, Cass was feeling sick. She glanced over at Professor McGonagall. The stern woman looked paler than usual, but other than that, she looked fine.

Finally, with one last BANG, the Knight Bus rolled to a stop in front of a small, dingy pub. Cass leapt from her bed, smoothed her pants, and all but bowled over Stan in her haste to get off the headache-inducing bus. From somewhere behind her, she heard a chuckle.

"Thank you, Mr. Ernest, Mr. Shunpike." Professor McGonagall said, nodding towards the driver and conductor, respectively. Stepping off the bus, she brushed off her robes before saying, "Ms. Cassandra, this is the Leaky Cauldron. Through the back door is the entrance to Diagon Alley." Cass nodded and followed the professor to the door.

Inside the pub, it was dark and shabby. A few wizards sat playing a card game in one corner, drinking from flagons. The bartender was bald and toothless, and Cass thought he looked rather like a walnut. He nodded to Professor McGonagall, who nodded back. Then, Cass was led to the back of the pub, out a door, and into a small courtyard. The only things in it were a rubbish bin, an old banana peel, and some weeds. You'd think the entrance to a magical alley would be grander, Cass thought wryly.

Professor McGonagall walked over to a wall and took out her wand. Then, after tapping her wand on various bricks above the rubbish bin, Professor McGonagall stood back. That was when something truly amazing happened.

Cass's eyes grew wider and wider as she watched the scene before her. The bricks revealed a hole that grew bigger and bigger, making other bricks move out of the way. The wall rippled and danced, and after a few seconds, there stood an archway before Cass's disbelieving eyes. She felt her mouth fall open in shock as she took in the place before her.

Shop after shop filled the street, each selling extraordinary things. One sold cauldrons of all types and sizes; Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver, Self-Stirring, Collapsible. And that was only one shop.

Cass saw an Apothecary shop, advertising dragon liver. She didn't have time to be grossed out by that as she whipped her head the other way, looking at Eeylops Owl Emporium, amazed by the beautiful owls in the window.

Turning her head in a different direction, Cass watched several boys her age—and some quite a bit older—press their faces to a glass pane. Honestly, how immature, she thought. However, upon seeing what was inside the shop, Cass had half the thought to join them. Through the window, Cass saw broomsticks—broomsticks—on display. Ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Broomsticks, as in flying! OHMYGOSH! Cass suddenly ducked, making Professor McGonagall look at her strangely. Not two seconds later, a boy on a broom came out of nowhere and flew where Cass's head had been. She just stared in shock as he yelled an apology over his head, laughing. I want to do that!

"LEE JORDAN! DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN! YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY HURT HER!" shrieked Professor McGonagall, appearing very flustered. She turned to Cass. "How did you know…oh, right." Cass just nodded, still thinking about flying and grinning.

Professor McGonagall composed herself. "Ms. Cassandra, we will first go Gringotts, the wizarding bank, to convert your pounds into Galleons." The older witch gestured down the alley. Cass hadn't noticed before, but at the end of Diagon Alley was a huge, white building. Across the front, Gringotts was written. It was a beautiful building.

"I must warn you, the bankers are not what you would expect. You see, Gringotts is run by goblins," said Professor McGonagall, leading Cass down the alley. Cass turned to her in shock, her mouth moving with no sound coming out.

Finally, she found her voice. "Goblins?" Professor McGonagall just nodded curtly. Cass just shook her head and went back to looking around the alley.

Almost everyone here wore robes in varying colors. Most of the witches wore long, pointy hats. They passed by an ice cream parlor owned by a man named Florean Fortescue. They passed by a bookshop titled Flourish and Botts. One store that really peaked Cass's interest was one advertising ink, parchment, and quills. I wonder what it would be like drawing with quills.

Professor McGonagall and Cass reached the white building and climbed its steps. At the doors of the bank stood two guards, who glanced at the two witches, then resumed looking ahead.

The inside of the building took Cass's breath away. If the outside was beautiful, then the inside was…godly.

The ceiling was vaulted and the walls were illuminated by many, many candles. Stand after stand lined the main walkway and on them were tiny creatures. These creatures were only a head or so shorter than Cass, but they looked very menacing. Their fingers and feet were long, and many of them had pointed beards. Goblins. These were goblins.

Professor McGonagall led Cass to the left, where, in the corner, was a stand titled Conversions. The goblin at the stand had black hair and a clever look about him.

Cass pulled her bag to her front and rummaged around for a second, looking around for the forty-eight pounds. Finding them, she took them out, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and walked with Professor McGonagall to the stand.

"We would like to make a conversion from pounds to Galleons please," said Cass's escort. Cass handed the pounds to Professor McGonagall, who placed them on the stand.

The goblin didn't even look up as he growled, "How much pounds, ma'am?"

"Forty-eight," Cass replied for Professor McGonagall, knowing the older witch wasn't aware of how much Grandma Joyce had given her. Professor McGonagall just shot Cass a grateful look.

The goblin glanced at Cass, but said nothing as he took the pounds and placed them on a small disk. The disk spun around, growing faster and faster until it was a blur of color. The disk slowed and in the place of the pounds were nine golden coins, ten silver coins, and four bronze ones. Cass might have goggled, if she weren't becoming used to the frequent displays of magic.

So, instead, she asked, "Where did the pounds go? Do you not keep them? What if someone needs to convert Galleons to pounds?"

The goblin looked exasperated. "A revised form of the Switching Charm replaces the pounds with the Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts," he said curtly, yanking a small bag from under the stand. The goblin pushed the coins into the bag and tied it off before handing it to Professor McGonagall, who handed it to Cass.

"Now, if you'll please leave, I'm quite busy," the goblin said nastily. Cass looked around the stand; no one was near it. Amused by the goblin's bitterness, Cass put the money bag into her backpack and walked with Professor McGonagall to the entrance.

Out in Diagon Alley again, Cass looked at the professor expectantly, wanting to know where they were going.

"We will go to Madam Malkin's," Professor McGonagall gestured to a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "This is where you will get your robes." Cass nodded and they made their way over to the robes shop.

As they were walking to Madam Malkin's, Cass stopped abruptly. To her left was a newspaper stand, featuring papers from a company called The Daily Prophet. That wasn't what grabbed her attention, though. It was the fact that the pictures were moving that made Cass stop.

A portly man was seen in the first picture, giving some sort of speech in front of five golden statues; a witch, a wizard, a goblin, a centaur, and some smaller creature that Cass didn't know of.

To the bottom right of that was a picture of a young boy, maybe three or four years older than Cass. He wore round glasses and he had a peculiar mark on his face that was in the shape of a lightning-bolt. Weird birthmark, Cass remarked to herself. Next to the boy, in big letters, were the words: HARRY POTTER, A CRIMINAL?

"Who is Harry Potter, Professor?" Cass asked. Professor McGonagall stiffened beside her, but relaxed when she saw Cass was pointing to the picture on front of the newspaper.

"He is a young boy. I will not go into more details, now, it is a very long—and sad—story," replied the woman sternly. Cass looked at the boy again. He looks so familiar, she thought.

The two witches continued to Madam Malkin's. Cass continued to look around in awe at Diagon Alley, taking mental pictures of everything. She didn't want to forget anything about the magical street.

In Madam Malkin's, it was hectic. Many other kids were in the shop, getting fitted for robes. Almost all of them wore the standard black robes that the Hogwarts Letter had said to buy.

A stout woman walked up to Cass and Professor McGonagall, smiling. "Hello, Professor. Another student?" she greeted warmly, beaming at Cass.

"Hello, Merriam. Yes, please get her outfitted with the standard robes," replied Professor McGonagall. Turning to Cass, she said, "I'll be right outside, Ms. Cassandra." Cass nodded.

"Come with me, dear," commanded Madam Malkin. She led Cass to the back, where two older girls were being fitted. One was very pale and had curly hair. The other's complexion was very dark and had dark hair. They were both giggling at something. The young witch fitting them looked very annoyed.

Madam Malkin placed Cass on a stool and slid a black robe over her head. The robe was very large on Cass and touched the floor, even with Cass standing on the stool. The two girls looked over at Cass and smiled.

"Awww! She is so cute and tiny, Parv! Are you a first-year?" exclaimed the pale girl, giggling. Cass bristled. Cute and tiny? Madam Malkin started pinning the over-sized robe in various places.

"Lav, don't be rude!" scolded the dark-skinned girl. She turned her head to Cass and said, "Hello, I'm Parvarti, and this is Lavender," Parvarti gestured to Lavender. "Are you going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, but this is all very new to me. My name is Cass," Cass replied, looking at Parvarti.

"We go to Hogwarts, too. We'll be in our fifth year. Did you say this was new to you? Are you a Muggle-born?" Lavender demanded.

Cass just nodded, not wanting to explain how she didn't know who her parents were. Besides, it explained why she didn't know much about the wizarding world.

"Ooh that's so cute!" squealed Lavender. Cass resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Parvarti was looking at Cass weirdly, so Cass asked, "I'm sorry, but why are you looking at me like that?"

The dark-haired girl looked ashamed. "Sorry, you just looked familiar for a second. But I don't know you so…"

"Oh, ok. So, what is Hogwarts like?" Cass asked, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. It worked, as both girls brightened.

They told Cass all about Quidditch, cute boys, the professors, cute boys, the Houses, and cute boys. Cass thought they seemed very girlish and didn't think much of their gossip stories and stories about—get this-cute boys. Cute boys this, cute boys that. What about the classes? The school? The magic?

Cass let them drone on, though. Finally, Madam Malkin finished with Cass. She gathered her new robes, folded them nice and neatly, stuck them in a mauve bag, and handed them to Cass, who thanked her profusely. Cass paid Madam Malkin and left.

Outside the shop, Professor McGonagall waited for Cass. "Oh, here, Ms. Cassandra. Let me get those for you," said the professor, taking the rather bulky bag. Just as Cass started to protest, the older witch took her wand from her robes and tapped the bag.

Cass watched with wide eyes as the bag shrank to a very small size, small enough to fit in her backpack. Wicked, she thought. Cass put the now-tiny bag in her backpack and thanked Professor McGonagall, who only said, "I'll put that back to its original size when I return you to your grandparents."

Next on the list was Cass's spellbooks. Excited, she followed Professor McGonagall to a bookshop called Flourish and Botts.

Inside the bookshop was row after row of books. Cass took her list from her bag and started picking out books. Professor McGonagall let her find the books on her own as she watched the young witch light up with excitement.

Eight books, one Galleon, and four Knuts later, Cass walked out of the bookshop with a very amused Professor McGonagall. After shrinking the bags again, the professor led Cass to their next destination: the Apothecary.

The inside of the Apothecary smelled like a mixture of bad eggs, rotten cabbages, and, surprisingly, fresh mint—which just made the odor that much more pungent. Wooden shelves were lined with jars of slimy goop, bright powders, and dried roots. Mushrooms and other fungi could be found in the corners. Bundles of feathers, fangs, and claws hung from the ceiling. Probably most disgusting was the large bucket of dead worms. Naturally, Cass was fascinated.

Professor McGonagall walked up to the counter, behind which stood a man in his mid-forties. "Basic potion ingredients for first-years, please," said Professor McGonagall with an air of business.

"Sure thing, ma'am," replied the man. He reached behind him and started pulling various ingredients from large piles. After putting all of the ingredients in separate bags and placing them in a small box, he handed them to Cass. "Five sickles, miss." Cass rummaged in her bag for a second, then handed the money to a man with a "Thank you!"

Professor McGonagall and Cass walked out of the Apothecary. The box with the ingredients in it was small enough to fit in her bag without having to shrink it, so Cass shoved it in and they continued their shopping.

The next things Cass needed were a set a brass scales, a telescope, a cauldron, and a set of glass phials. After getting these, Cass bought ink, quills, and lots of parchment. I'll have to practice with these when I get home, she thought.

Cass also bought a Color-Changing Quill and a small, drawstring backpack with a galaxy pattern that actually moved on it with the money she had left over, saving enough for a wand.

Finally, it was time for what Cass has been waiting for ever since she first heard of it. It was time to get her wand.

Sensing her excitement, or perhaps just wanting to be done with her duties, Professor McGonagall hurried Cass over to a shabby-looking shop. In peeling gold letters, the front of the shop read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

In the window, on a purple cushion, a single, thin wand was laid. 382 B.C., Cass thought in wonder. What a long time.

Cass walked into the store, Professor McGonagall right behind her. At first, Cass couldn't see anyone, so she looked around the shop.

Ollivanders was very dusty, and very tiny. Hundreds, if not thousands, of boxes were stacked to the ceiling. Those must be the wands, Cass thought to herself. The place thrummed with energy…magic. All the wands, the floorboards, the walls, the very dust was magical.

An old man stepped out from behind a stack of boxes. Cass was startled to see bright silver eyes in the lined face.

"Good—" the man—Mr. Ollivander, Cass assumed—started to say, before he cut himself off, looking at Cass in confusion. Concerned, Cass started towards him, but he held up a hand, stopping her. "I'm fine, my dear. I thought I saw…never you mind, it is impossible. Just a coincidence, I presume."

Cass was thoroughly confused; what was impossible? What had Mr. Ollivander thought he saw? "I'm sorry, sir, but what do you mean?" So lost in her thoughts about the old man's words, Cass didn't notice Professor McGonagall pale.

"You just reminded me of someone, my dear," said Mr. Ollivander. Although nowhere near satisfied with that answer, Cass decided to drop it. Mr. Ollivander turned to Professor McGonagall. "Ah…Minerva McGonagall. Fir wood, nine and a half inches, dragon heartstring core, isn't it?"

"That is correct, Mr. Ollivander," replied the professor. Cass had no idea what they were talking about—other than wands, of course. But what was dragon heartstring? Why was it in the core?

"I remember every wand I've ever sold," murmured Mr. Ollivander quite fondly, as if reminiscing each wand. Cass highly doubted that he remembered every wand he ever sold, but she kept that to herself.

"My name is Cassandra McGarther, Mr. Ollivander, sir," Cass introduced herself.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. McGarther. I would introduce myself, but it seems my reputation proceeds me," said Mr. Ollivander. "Now, let's see here. Ms. McGarther, which is your wand arm?"

"Um…I'm right-handed, sir."

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Please hold out your right arm, dear. That's it." Mr. Ollivander started to measure all around Cass's body. He continued speaking while working. "You see, Ms. McGarther, there are three main types of wand cores; unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feathers. Each of these cores are a very powerful substance, and they allow the wand to work." Mr. Ollivander tilted Cass's head to the side, measuring her ear.

"There are many more types of wand woods, each powerful in their own right," Mr. Ollivander stopped holding the measuring tape, but it kept measuring Cass regardless. The old wizard was now walking amongst shelves, peering at different wand boxes. "Our task is to find the wand that matches you," finished Mr. Ollivander, pulling a wand box from one of the piles. Amazingly, the stack didn't fall down. Magic, Cass concluded.

"Try this one. Its core is dragon heartstring, its wood is beechwood. Nine inches. Very flexible," Mr. Ollivander said, handing a wand to Cass. She just held it, not knowing what to do.

"Well, go on, give it a flick." Cass did just that, feeling like an idiot when nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand from her hands, throwing it on a spindly chair. Well, that's a bit too much, Cass thought wryly.

"Yew. Unicorn hair core. Ten inches and quite springy." Mr. Ollivander gave Cass another wand. Cass swished it. Again, nothing happened.

And so it went for the next twenty or so wands. At one point, all the wand cores and wand woods and wand lengths had all blended together and Cass was just giving her wrist a small flick for each wand she was given . The pile on the spindly chair was growing to absurd proportions.

Suddenly, Cass straightened. Mr. Ollivander was coming back, holding a very elegant, silver wand. This is it.

"This next one is unusual, but it matched the measurements. Silver lime wood, unicorn hair core, eleven inches. Very flexible."

As soon as Cass touched it, warmth spread through her fingertips. All at once, the candles in the room were blown out by an unnatural wind. It was quite dark in the room, the only light coming from the grimy window. Silver sparks flew from Cass's wand, illumination her face. Her hair stirred in a warm breeze, blowing backwards. Cass shuddered.

Slowly, all of the candles came back to life. The sparks ceased, but Cass still felt warmth at her fingertips.

"That was quite a display! Yes, yes! What a perfect match!" Mr. Ollivander exclaimed happily, beaming at Cass. Professor McGonagall looked shocked by what Cass had done—albeit unintentionally.

Cass remembered what Mr. Ollivander had said about her wand. "Mr. Ollivander, sir, what did you mean when you said that this was an unusual choice of a wand?"

"Silver lime wood is a very elegant wood. In fact, many con-makers used to sell dyed wands made to look like Silver Lime wood wands. What makes it most interesting, though, is the fact that Silver Lime wands often pair with Seers or gifted Legilimens."

Cass exchanged a look with Professor McGonagall. No wonder the wand had responded to her; Cass could See the future (not all of it of course, but she doesn't want you to know that). Distantly, Cass wondered what a Legilimens was.

"That'll be seven Galleons, Ms. McGarther. And thank you for that wonderful display of magic," said Mr. Ollivander.

"But I didn't to anything," Cass protested, handing him the money.

The old wizard just smiled. "Didn't you?"

OoOoO

On the Knight Bus, amid loud bangs and abrupt stops, Cass remembered the boy from the newspaper. "Professor, you said you would tell me about Harry Potter."

Stan looked at Cass in disbelief, as if he couldn't understand someone who didn't know about Harry Potter. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Yes, I suppose I did," started the older witch. "First, you must understand that not all wizards and witches are good. We are like every other society, we are not perfect.

"This was proven around two decades ago, when there was an evil wizard. He did terrible things, terrible things," the professor's voice was a whisper, her face pale. "He went after the Potters on the Halloween of 1981.

"James and Lily Potter died that night," Cass felt her heart squeeze. Suddenly, she wasn't in the Knight Bus. Cass was in a hallway, watching as a man with untidy black hair and round glasses fell to a harsh, sickly green flash. Somewhere, a woman screamed. Cass's eyes smarted and she was back on the bus. She gulped in air, her head throbbing. What was that?

Professor McGonagall didn't appear to have noticed, as she was still talking in a solemn voice. "Young Harry Potter, only fifteen months old at the time, was next on the wizard's list." The witch's eyes grew in wonder as she said, "By some miracle, Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse—that is a dark spell that instantly kills—and was left only with a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead while the evil wizard was…conquered." Harry Potter survived a spell that causes instant death…how? Cass wondered. She also wondered on why Professor McGonagall had paused before saying 'conquered'. But these things were at the back of her mind. Mostly, Cass was thinking about how awful it must have been growing up without parents, everyone praising you over something that was a miracle. Everyone celebrating when they should be mourning the loss of a child's father and mother. Cass felt nothing but sympathy and sadness for Harry Potter.

"Professor, what was the wizard's name?" Cass asked, curious.

"What 'choo wanna know that 'or? Ain't nobody says 'is name. 'S pure evil," interrupted Stan. Professor McGonagall still looked pale, but she nodded her head in confirmation.

"When we must refer to him, we say 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named," clarified Professor McGonagall. Cass though that was stupid. It was a name, not a taboo. Though, maybe for them, it was. Not them. Us. You're one of them, Cass reminded herself. At a second thought, Cass contemplated on how horrible one must be so that their very name was too terrifying to even speak.

"Professor, if Harry Potter saved your world—er, our world—from You-Know-Who, why did that newspaper—The Daily Prophet—call him a criminal?" Cass asked, confused.

Stan snorted, " 'Cause the boy's a nutter, ain't he? Claimin' You-Know-Who is 'ack, begging for attention." Professor McGonagall scowled deeply. Cass was finding herself very angry at Stan, too.

BANG! The bus slammed to a stop, knocking Cass forward a meter or so. As she got to her feet, the doors opened. Cass and Professor McGonagall walked out to a very annoying, " 'Bye! Come back soon!" from Stan.

They were back at Cass's street, everything just as it had always been. It felt weird to Cass that everything could be so normal when a magical alley—no, scratch that, a whole magical world—existed.

As the two witches walked up to Cass's front door, Cass heard Professor McGonagall whisper, "Voldemort. That was…that is his name." Cass didn't have to ask who the professor was talking about. She only asked herself, so, is Voldemort back?

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Back in her bedroom, Cass sighed grumpily, thinking about what Professor McGonagall had said about no magic before she left.

As Grandpa Jimmy, Grandma Joyce, Professor McGonagall, and Cass sat in the living room, the professor cleared her throat seriously.

Professor McGonagall looked Cass straight in the eye. "You are not to do magic until you arrive at Hogwarts, Ms. Cassandra. Do you hear me?"

"Why not, Professor?"

"Because performing magic outside of school is illegal, as it is an infraction on the Statute of Secrecy. Doing so would result in punishment," the professor warned. After hearing all about how Muggles could not know about magic, Cass's grandparents had whole-heartedly agreed.

It wasn't fair; Cass just got her wand, yet she couldn't do any magic?

Despite this, Cass was undeniably happy. She was going to a magical school in two weeks! She was going to become a witch! Sure, she was upset that she would have to leave her grandparents, but Cass was sure they would be fine. Probably better, since they didn't have Cass annoying them.

I'm going to be the best witch I can be, Cass thought, determined.

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