United We Stand

by theamazingmo

A 'gift' from a girl's grandmother turns out to be much, much more than what the 15yearold bargained for. While uncovering her destiny, Nichole learns things she never before would have dreamed of, in the world of magic, in life, and in love. HPOC.

5. Meeting Harry

A/N: Yay! We got some new reviewers this time. I love u all so much! Sorry for taking so long to finish this chappie, but I kinda got stuck for a while. I hope it's not to boring and lame. :p Enjoy!

Disclaimer: JK rules that she could think up all these great characters, I own nothing from HP. Someday…

Chapter 5: Meeting Harry

Nichole looked down at the endless ocean below. She witnessed a beautiful sunrise as the airplane flew over the Atlantic, however, all Nichole wanted to do was go to sleep. Eric was asleep against her shoulder, but try as she might, with the combined constant roaring of the airplane, the screaming baby a few rows back, and the constant shuffling of the flight attendants up and down the aisle, she had no luck. The sky must have been clear as day, for she could see right down to the ocean below. All she could see out her window was ocean. Nichole glanced at her watch, they should be arriving soon, and this trip from hell would finally be done with.

This trip had been one of the most stressful things Nichole had endured in a long time…

"It says baggage claim is this way, down the stairs"

They had only just exited customs, where, sure enough, all of their bags had been searched. They had been asked various questions, asked for photo id, but all in all, nothing major. Nichole's whole body felt like lead as she stood numbly, beside the conveyor belt. She was exhausted, her head was pounding, and she felt nausous. It was a feeling similar to the ones she had had the previous two mornings. According to Nichole's watch though, it was still the middle of the night. Because of a delay in Toronto, they had arrived in London at 9:30 rather than 7:30.

"Hey Nichole, look, there's the animals."

Nichole had almost forgot about Shami in her disheveled state.

"Thanks" Nichole peeked inside the carrier to see Shami looking quite drowsy indeed. She looked as if she had just woken up, but her eyes were unfocussed, and her third eyelid was showing a bit. "Poor Shami baby! You've been up and down a lot today, haven't you? If I feel this bad, I can't imagine how you must feel, riding with the baggage."

Eric was lugging their suitcases off the conveyor belt as they passed. Slowly, they all aquired their baggage. All that is, except for Nichole. Nichole had sat down on top of Eric's suitcase, with Shami's carrier on the ground beside her.

Nichole rested her head on her folded arms as she watched the last few suitcases circle the conveyor belt.

"This is just the perfect end to the perfect day isn't it? God's punishing me for running away from home!"

"Awe, come one honey, it'll be alright, remember, you packed a few clothes and stuff in your carry-on, remember?"

"Eric! I've just had it! I'm tired, and hungry! We have no place to go, and now, I don't even have anything at all! We came all the way across the world, and for what? I've now lost everything I own! Stop being so damn bright and sunny about it! There's not a silver lining to everything you know!"

"There you are! Oh, I've been soooo worried about you! How dare you just up and leave! Why, if I was your mother I'd-oh nevermind, you're safe that's what matters. I was afraid you'd have already left-alone in London, my goodness!" A stout red-haired woman had suddenly started shouting from behind Nichole. She jumped, and whipped around. She had been about to ask who in the name of god this woman was, but before she could manage the words out, Sarah jumped forwards.

"Auntie Molly! You're here! I thought we'd have to find our own way to the Leaky Cauldron or something. Is mum really that worried? I'm sorry, but she was being so unreasonable, you just don't understand."

"Yes, yes, dear. My, how you've grown! But I suppose that's to be expected. And Eric, you're even taller than Ron, I'd say! And he's come along quite a bit. Meghan, you've grown up into quite the young lady as well and…" The woman had the caught sight of Nichole, who had been hovering at the back of the group, behind Eric. "You must be Nichole. I don't think you'd remember me, the last time I saw you, you were just a tiny little thing. I'm Molly Weasley. Your mother and I were good friends while she lived here. I haven't heard from her in a while. I see you're still sporting that beautiful little mop of yours! I always said, if there ever was a real-life Goldilocks, then it would be you. Tell me how is your mother? And baby sister? Well, I suppose she's not much of a baby anymore though, is she?" Then she remembered. She had seen this woman before, however, she had been much younger. She had seen her in her mother's memory. Apparently, this was also Sarah and Eric's aunt. She looked nothing like her sister. Mrs. McEwen had nice, wavy brown hair. She was thin, and quite tall, while Mrs. Weasley was stout, and had big, bright red, curly hair.

"My mother's okay, I guess, and my sister's starting grade five in the fall." Nichole was didn't really like meeting new people. She was afraid to make a fool of herself. She nervously, clasped her hands behind her back, and spoke very quietly.

"That's wonderful. Now, what's this I hear about you losing your luggage? That won't do now, will it? Was there anything irreplaceable inside?"

"No. Just clothes mostly, but now I don't really-"

"Well, how about you girls go shopping tomorrow? Do you have enough things to last until then?"

"Yea, I'll manage."

"Well, then, we best be off. I expect Hermione's looking forward to some female company."

Nichole furrowed her brow. Hermione. Where had she heard that before? Oh yes, that was the annoying aunt or something that would nag and nag and nag in her letter to Harry. Nichole was not looking forward to meeting her. She sounded old, boring, and very annoying.

Hermione was anything but old.

She could be boring sometimes, but Nichole actually found her lectures quite fascinating. But they were slightly annoying sometimes. Hermione had quite a few books. Many of them, Nichole found interesting. Hermione seemed very happy to have someone who shared her interest in literature. Nichole's favourite book of all of them was probably, Hogwarts: A History. She found it fascinating that a school could have such an interesting past, and present, for that matter. Apparently, the staircases moved, and the décor liked to indulge in casual conversation with passers-by.

She also learned a lot about the different houses. Gryffindor, which she learned, Ron and Hermione were in was the red and gold house of the brave. Black and yellow Hufflepuff was the house of the loyal. Ravenclaw was the blue and white house of the intellectually inclined. And lastly, the green and silver house of Slytherin, of which the ambitious belonged to.

Nichole thought that she would perhaps best fit into either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. She knew she wasn't brave, so she was sure she would not be sorted into Gryffindor. And the cutthroat Slytherins just did not seem to be her cup of tea. She supposed that she was loyal. She was not that much of a gossip, and could definitely keep secrets well. However, she thought that she was smart. Her lowest grade that year had been 83 in French, which she had achieved by doing nothing the entire year. She got in the 90's in most other subjects, except English, which she received 87, and Drama, 89. Hermione had been glad to share, though, how she was the top student in school, and that someone called "Malfoy", who was in Slytherin was second. So maybe the Ravenclaws weren't so smart after all.

She had been itching to ask about Harry, but was afraid to, because she wasn't even supposed to know about him, let alone have, well…kind of, met him, and…seen pretty much everything there was about him to see. She hadn't even seen that much of Eric...which was kind of odd. They had been going out for about 8 months, and never had he ever pressured her into anything. He was a very caring boyfriend, and Nichole was sure that she was lucky to have him.

"Hmmm…I've just gotten an owl from Harry saying that he's lost his wand…That's impossible, wands will always return to their rightful owners after at most 12 hours. He said it's been missing for three days."

"Hey, d'you think that maybe-"

"Death Eaters broke in and stole it while he was sleeping? No I think he's just over-reacting. It's probably right in front of his nose. Or he was stupid enough to leave it lying around, and his aunt and uncle, convieniently decided to hide it from him."

"But wouldn't that mean that it's-"

"No Ronald."

It was lunch-time, and Nichole had just bit into a sandwhich, when Hermione spoke. Nichole had almost dropped her glass of milk in surprise. Nichole decided to concentrate on her food.

Bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow.

Bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow.

Gulp.

Repeat.

"Don't you think it's about time for you guys to go and pick him up? It's not really fair that he has to stay with those horrible relatives of his for such a long time. I'm afraid he's going to try and leave by himself soon. He's getting really annoyed that we can't tell him anything." Hermione said in a concerned voice/

Mrs. Weasly replied. "I know, Hermione, but he's just going to have to sit tight there for a little while. We really don't have that many Order members available to go and get him. And, besides, the safest place for him at a time like this, is at his aunt and uncle's."

"What! Mum, they're Muggles how're they supposed to-"

"I know perfectly well, Ron, that they're Muggles. And I wouldn't expect you to understand anyway. In fact, I would be appalled if you did. Eat your sandwhich!"

"I don't want it."

"Ronald Weasley, what is wrong with you these days? You haven't been eating like you should. In Merlin's name, I will not have you wasting away under my roof."

Nichole, noticed, however, that Ron was not paying attention to his mother in the slightest. He was staring down the table instead, at a certain poofy-haired brunette.

"I think we know perfectly well what's wrong with ickle Ronniekins Mum. You, see it's like this, when young men start to go through a thing muggles call puberty-"

"George! That is enough! You will stop tantalizing your brother! Good lord, if I had knut for every time one of you…"

"Auntie, I was wondering, if we could maybe make a little trip to Diagon Alley this afternoon. Meghan, Eric, and I need our new books for the year, as well as some new potion supplies, and robes, as we haven't been to Hogwarts yet. And Nichole will need pretty much everything. Not to mention some new clothes and essentials."

"Oh yes, I had thought that I might take you girls there this afternoon. Unfortunately, something has come up, and there's going to be a big meeting tonight. I'll be busy all afternoon cooking up dinner for so many people. I think Tonks might be able to take you, though. I'll have to check."

"That would be wonderful, Molly! I need a little time off. We'll go have some fun!" The woman who was apparently called Tonks, was standing in the doorway. She was smiling, and had bright pink hair. She was fairly short, and had bright blue eyes. She must have caught them staring, because she said:

"Hello, you must be the young ladies from Canada. My name's Nyphadora Tonks, but please, just call me Tonks. My mother was insane. Oh, and I'm a metamorphagus. I believe I've seen you three before," she said, gesturing to Sarah, Meghan and Eric.

"Probably from a few summers back when we came to visit. A what now?"

"A metamorphagus. I can change my appearance at will."

"Wow."

"Yeah, it's pretty neat. So if you guys want to finish up, we could leave right away, and be back in time for dinner. Are Ron and Hermione coming?"

"No. We're going to stay here and help clean up a little more. Besides, Harry will probably want us to go with him when he eventually gets here."

"Oh! And, Nichole, Dumbledore has gotten permission from the ministry to cast a masking charm on your wand, it will allow you to practice during the summer without sending out unnecessary alerts to the ministry when you use magic. If you could just bring me your wand when you get it, I'll take care of that little obstacle for you, and then you should be able to start catching up. I'm sure Hermione would be more than willing to help you out if needed, she is the top student at Hogwarts."

"Newt's eye? Dragon's blood-wait, Dragon? What the hell do we need all this for? Dragons aren't-do dragons exist in the wizarding world?"

"They sure do. And you'll need all those funny ingredients for Potions. That's a hard subject, that is. You need to be very precise."

"Yeah, I was reading about it in Hermione's books. It sounds pretty interesting actually. Kind of like chemistry. It's a lot of the same rules, but much different ingredients."

"Yeah, to you, it might be interesting, but to those of us to whom science is anything but interesting, Potions is anything but fun, especially from what I've heard about the teacher from Ron." Meghan grumbled.

"Oh, now what's he been telling you lot? I think Snape's a good guy deep down. He just comes off a bit…irritable."

"Well, he seems kind of prejudiced too."

"Okay, let's be moving on now. You've all got your ingredients? I guess all we have left now is…Nichole's wand. Let's head over to Ollivanders."

Nichole had asked Sarah and Nichole not to tell anyone that she had already had a wand. She had fed them a story about finding it in a shop a few days ago. She told them she had returned it. Amazingly, they believed her. Really, however, the wand was shoved in the bottom of her duffle bag.

They entered the small, crowded shop, and placed their bags on the floor underneath the window. There was a tiny desk at the front of many shelves. All the shelves appeared to be stuffed to the brim with many tiny boxes. Nichole guessed that these must be the wands themselves. There were so many. How was she supposed to choose between all of them?

"Why, hello there. Who might you be?"

Nichole turned sharply, to find an old, withered looking man standing behind her. She had no idea how he had gotten there. She gulped before answering the question, for she found a slight air of great knowledge surrounding him. "I-I'm Nichole Caligan."

"Oh, I have never heard that name before. A Muggle-born you are? Yes."

Nichole found not the need to speak, for he seemed confident answering his own question.

"Now, what is your wand hand?"

Nichole didn't really register the question in her mind before thrusting her left hand forward. She was left-handed, yes, and used to the question being asked.

"Alright, I think we ought to start off with some longer wands, and some lighter woods. I would think oak, or elm would suit you. Here, ten inches, maple, unicorn hair." He had reached into the shelves behind him, and salvaged one of the many small boxes. He held the wand out to her. "Just wave away."

She waved the wand and…nothing happened. Nothing at all. Not even one spark. She waved again. Nothing.

Oh god. Did Dumbledore make a mistake when he said she was magic? How embarrassing was this? She came all the way over here to find out that she wasn't even magic! In desperation, she jabbed the wand, rather than waved, and to her relief, as well as dismay, the cabinet to her left caught on fire.

"Augamenti." Mr. Ollivander seemed utterly unfazed. He simply said, "Nope, we need something with a bit more zing for you. Here, thirteen inches, mahogany, with phoenix tears." When Nichole waved this wand, sparks shot out of it, however they turned into hornets, and began stinging everyone in sight. "No, that one definitely won't work either. Here, eleven inches, oak and basilisk scales." Nichole went to take the wand from Mr. Ollivander's outstretched hand, but when her hand made contact with the wand, she gasped in pain. She dropped the wand as if burned, for a stinging sensation was issuing through her left arm.

They tried so many wands that Nichole lost count. The rest of the group had left the stifling shop after two unsuccessful hours, so only Tonks remained when Mr. Ollivander came forward with another wand. "Here. Twelve inches long, cherry wood with fairy and scarab wings. It is an odd combination indeed. I believe that the only other wand sold in this same combination, however with mahogany, was sold almost a thousand years ago. This wand, I believe, was made years ago, as was its brother, when this combination of wand core was still legal."

"What?"

"Well, you see, when scarab and fairy wings, which are polar opposites are combined, with certain woods, depending on the person, the results can be disastrous. Sometimes fatal."

"I don't know if I want to-"

"My dear, we have tried all the common types of cores, along with some variations and rare ones as well. Please try this one, I have a feeling that it will suit you very well."

Nichole stared at the man as if he was crazy (which she thought he was). She was very tired though, and she was sure that Mrs. Weasley probably had dinner ready and waiting. Too bad she hadn't figured out what Harry's wand was made of, because if she could get one like that, she figured she would be fine. She extended her fingers, and grasped the wand, afraid to even move. She didn't feel anything bad at all. Infact, she felt quite good. She felt confident, and happy, and a strange power radiating through her. Some of the other wands had had a similar affect, but not to this scale, not even Harry's wand had gotten this reaction. She waved the wand accross her front. A water-like substance flowed out of her wand. It was clear and blue, and it made a wall infront of her. It felt electric and powerful. She was afraid to touch it, but it looked perfectly peaceful. She touched her fingers to the water's surface, and it felt just like that, water.

"Yes, indeed, it is as I thought. You are the second person in the world to possess the ability to control the forces nature to a small degree. That is exactly what this type of wand core is best suited for. Many think it the most powerful core available, for the scarab represents the force of utmost power, and ambition, and the fairy represents the qualities of protectiveness, and love. Together, they can either form a wand of supernatural power that can rival the power of the gods. However, this result is only possible when the wand is combined with the right person. If a certain type of person attempts to harness such a beautiful natural power by force, the results can be, as I said, fatal. This is why the Ministry outlawed the creation of such wands. They can kill greedy people so easily, and the good that can posses these wands can sometimes go wrong, and in turn kill others almost as easily."

"I don't understand. How could such a good thing, also be bad at the same time?"

"Well, you see, as I said, the scarab wings in the core, are said to control the power and ambitious part of the wand, while the fairy wings control the love and protectiveness. These qualities are opposites, if you will, so the person yielding the wand must have a very good balance between the two qualities within themselves, or the one quality could take over, while the other, in protest, would proceed to kill the person that contains the unbalance. These wands are very hard to make, another reason why they are so rare, for few dare to attempt them. The amounts of each half of the core must be exactly equal, or the greater half will destroy the smaller. When they are equal, there is no rivalry possible, and with a person's matching personality, the wand will contain powers influenced by two very different forces, making it almost invincible."

"So, they kind of, cancel each other out if they're equal?"

"Yes, exactly, leaving only purest of magical power."

"You said I was the second person you've ever sold this type of wand to before, who was the first?"

"I cannot say, alas, for I did not sell it. I was sold almost a thousand years ago, I believe, and unfortunately, the records of sales preceding 1176, were lost in a horrible war. That will be fourteen galleons for the wand please."

"Well, here you girls are! If you could meet me back here in about two and a half hours, that would be great."

"Okay Auntie Molly! We'll see you then!"

Mrs. Weasley had dropped off the girls at a park downtown, in the middle of the shopping district. The girls entered Banana Republic in order to start their search for clothes for Nichole.

As soon as they entered the store, Nichole had a spell of dejà vu.

And it was not the first time she had had that happen to her, she noted.

Had she not seen this store before? But where?

"Oh dear, I've just gotten another letter from Harry. He seems really agitated. Oh, and look what he's trying to pull now! Does he honestly think we'd believe that! Everyone knows that wands will return to their owners, and there is no way Death Eaters would bother to sneak into his aunt and uncle's house, and just leave him there without a single scratch."

"Yeah, but do you think that maybe-I mean, he really must want out of there. And what if it was you! I'm sure you'd-"

"Ronald Weasly, how dare you accuse me of that! You think I would lie to my friends just to get out of an uncomfortable situation?"

"Hermione! They hardly even feed him! He's practically in mortal peril!"

"As long as he is physically safe, that is what matters now, don't you understand? They simply can't spare enough people to go and fetch him right now!"

Mrs. Weasly pressed her lips together, overhearing the conversation, before speaking. "Hermione, where did you hear that?" Hermione's eyes widened. She gulped. Nichole wondered what was going on…but received her answer soon enough. "YOU TWO! OUT IN THE HALL NOW! HOW DARE YOU KEEP THOSE VILE LITTLE CHUNKS OF GARBAGE! OH, EVEN IF YOU WOULD SHOW THIS MUCH DEVOTION TO YOUR SCHOOLWORK RATHER THAN EAVESDROPPING!"

"Relax, mum! Besides, we're of age! We have the right to know!"

"THE ONLY RIGHT YOU HAVE RIGHT NOW IS THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT!"

"Hermione?" Nichole whispered. "Just what is she screaming about?"

"Oh. Well, Fred and George kind of like to invent joke things, and they invented these really handy things called 'Extendable Ears'. They can fit under small spaces, and allow you to, well, eavesdrop. We've been listening in on the Order's private meetings."

"You're doing really well. I'm surprised that you can pick up these things so easily after having no magical education ever before. Your potions especially exceptional, and that's a subject most people have trouble with."

"Well, I find it very similar to chemistry, and that was one of my favourite subjects in school."

"When I went to Muggle school, I like math the best, because it's always based on facts."

"Ugh. I always hated math for the same reason. There's only right and wrong, while in the sciences, you can have more than one answer sometimes. The important part though, is explaining your answer. I like to be able to have an opinion, and to have to figure out your answer based on how you comprehend things rather than just memorizing a bunch of rules."

"That makes sense. Here, why don't you try this. The switching spell is a fourth year spell, but since you've pretty much mastered all the third year spells, we might as well move on. At this rate, you'll be finished learning all the fifth year spells before school even starts! And you were worried about exams. If you're not sorted into Ravenclaw, I swear, I'll try out for Quidditch."

"But aren't you the top student in school, and you're in Gryffindor?"

"Yes, but I really had to argue with that crazy old hat to make it place me there. I guess it ultimately comes down to your own decision."

Hermione and Nichole had been sitting on the floor of the girls' room, practicing various spells, jinxes, hexes, and curses. Nichole had read all of Hermione's old school books, and learnt most of the spells within the week. Hermione had been impressed with her progress, and if Nichole wasn't right, she thought Hermione was starting to sound a bit jealous. Nichole knew that it must be weird for her to learn all of this in such a small space of time, but it just didn't seem difficult to her. She could just say the words and make the spell work. The only subject that she really didn't care for was Care of Magical Creatures. She had read the books, and it had actually seemed interesting from that perspective, but then, of course, Ron had to give her a detailed account of some particular lessons they had had.

Flobberworms, though harmless, sounded anything but desirable, and, well, Nichole still wondered what a half horse, half giant bird was even doing in a school. And that was to say the least. The fabled 'Blast-Ended Skrewts' had just completely convinced Nichole that she would definitely not be choosing that subject for one of her electives.

"I'm just afraid he might do something stupid. First of all, he's a fifteen-year-old boy, which alone makes him liable for that. Second, he is alone with those muggles, and has had only limited contact with all of us since the beginning of summer." Nichole could hear the shouting voice of a man combined with the voice of Professor Dumbledore as she let her extendable ear slip under the doorway.

"Sirius, rest, assured, I understand your concern, but I trust Harry to heed a simple request when he has done so much more in his short life."

"But that's the problem with fifteen-year-old boys Dumbledore! They don't listen to anyone else! They think they've got it the worst, and that no one understands them! They think they're always right!"

"I trust that you recall when you were fifteen then?"

"Well, of course! We were some of the stupidest blokes on the block!"

"Then if Harry is about half as smart as you, he should be fine."

Nichole felt very sorry for Harry. She felt as if she were already one of his friends, even though she had never met him. She had had one more dream about him in the last few days. He had been pacing in his room, seemingly very frustrated.

If Nichole had been him, she would have been frustrated as well. Hermione had informed Nichole about most of Harry's past years at school. She had told her about the Philosopher's Stone, what she knew about The Chamber of Secrets (with a lot of blabbering about some man called Lockhart), and his unwilling participation in the Triwizard Tournament, which she found out, had ended in tragedy last year.

Nichole didn't understand what they were keeping from him. She could tell whenever Dumbledore spoke of Harry that he seemed to become agitated. And she supposed that if it really was as important as Dumbledore portrayed it to be that Harry stay safe, he would have freed up enough men to send for him.

If only she could do something to help him. If only she could communicate with him through the odd dreams, then she could tell him everything.

Wait.

That was it!

Oh yes…she could do it. It would be nothing compared to flying across the ocean without so much as goodbye. All she needed was a map, and a few simple charms, but thanks to Dumbledore's special request to the Ministry, Nichole was free to use magic whenever she wanted to…study.

She was becoming more daring by the day it seemed.

Where I come from isn't all that great
My automobile is a piece of crap
My fashion sense is a little whack
And my friends are just as screwy as me

I didn't go to boarding schools
Preppy girls never looked at me
Why should they?
I ain't nobody
Got nothing in my pocket

Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rolling like a celebrity
Livin' in Beverly Hills

Nichole turned onto the A3 southwest as the top 20 countdown on 98.8 resumed. She still couldn't believe what she had done, but simply reminded herself that she was only borrowing this car. She would return the it as soon as she got back, and they wouldn't even realize it was gone.

Look at all those movie stars
They're all so beautiful and clean
When the housemaids scrub the floors
They get the spaces in between

I wanna live a life like that
I wanna be just like a king
Take my picture by the pool
'cause I'm the next big thing

Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rolling like a celebrity
Livin' in Beverly Hills

It's not like it had been that difficult to steal-borrow the car anyway. She had simply waltzed into the car dealership two blocks down the road from Headquarters. She didn't even have to look for the test driver's keys. She simply summoned them. She was on the road by 12:30 a.m. She hadn't dared leave the house before midnight, for the risk of being caught. Nichole had taken an invisibility potion, which was extremely complex. Luckily, she hadn't killed herself, and thanks to a map of the London Area, she was now on her way to Little Whinging.

The truth is I don't stand a chance
It's something that you're born into
And I just don't belong

No I don't
I'm just a no-class beat down fool
And I will always be that way
I might as well enjoy my life
And watch the stars play

Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rolling like a celebrity
Livin' in Beverly Hills

Beverly Hills

BEEEEEPPP!

Nichole swerved back into her own lane, rubbing her eyes. It was now…1:46, and she was thoroughly exhausted. Nichole was not the best driver on in the world, and she had even taken a turn or two around London before daring to venture onto the motorway. It didn't make it any easier either, that everything that she had tried so hard to learn in Drivers Ed. this year was now backwards! According to the map, she had about 25 km left to go on the motorway before she could make her way into Little Whinging.

"Shit." Nichole cursed as she walked up a darkened driveway lined by perfectly pruned begonias. The invisibility potion was supposed to last for another four hours, and it was now, obviously wearing off. Oh, well, she thought, I'm lucky I didn't mess up the potion worse. Nichole glanced down at her arm, which she could now see, and began to ponder how she could change her plan. Originally, she had intended to wait until morning until Harry's uncle left for work, and sneak into the house then, but now that obviously wouldn't work. She really didn't think that Harry's Aunt would welcome a complete stranger waltzing into her house.

Alright, so you have to improvise, no big deal.

Nichole walked around to the side of the house, hoping to spot an open window. No such luck. These people might be mean, but they obviously weren't stupid. She proceeded into the backyard. The patio door was locked, and the living room window was locked. Nichole's gaze fell upon an apple tree that was growing about four feet from the house. She followed it upward, and spotted an open window on the second floor.

Concentrating her all her energy on recalling Harry's house from her dreams, she counted the windows from the side of the house.

Bathroom…fat boy's room…aunt and uncle's room…their bathroom….yes! Harry's room!

Jackpot.

Grinning like a madwoman, Nichole began climbing the ancient apple tree.

So what if she hadn't climbed a tree before, how hard could it be?

Mind, you she had also thought the same about rock climbing…big mistake.

Forcing herself not to think about the past, Nichole made her way up to the third branch jutting out from the trunk. It reached up past Harry's open window, so she planned to hop down from the branch onto the sill.

She paused on the branch to take in the view. Nichole quite liked high places, in fact, her and Gizzy would often climb on top of the garage roof from the fence at their house.

Thinking of Gizzy made Nichole regret leaving. She decided it would be better to continue with the task at hand. Nichole extended her leg cautiously, stepping onto the sill. She moved to transfer her weight onto said leg, when she heard the tree branch creak eerily under her bottom.

Panicking, she stepped onto the sill with her other leg, and attempted to bend through the window.

She let out a yelp before slipping, and bumped her head on the window as she bounced on the sill before banging her head on Harry's nightable, and crumpling on the floor.

Stars

She could hear a muffled voice above her head, and shuffling. Nichole sat up, and opened her eyes to see Harry staring at her with his mouth hanging open, and a fire poker in his hand. He was sitting on his bed, and he had his pajamas on. A pair of boxers was all that meant. Being used to this room, Nichole did not immediately remember that under the circumstances, she was not invisible to Harry, and staring would not be acceptable. After a second, Nichole regained a slight bit of composure, lowered her eyes, and was about to stand up when Harry cut her off.

"N-Nichole?" his voice sounded shaky, and uncertain, but nevertheless, Nichole was so stunned that she almost blanked out again.

How did he know her name?

Not knowing what to say, Nichole reached into her bag, and pulled out a thin piece of dark wood.

"Here, this is yours. I'm sorry, but it was an accident, and I couldn't give it back."

He simply stared at her, with his mouth still hanging open.

A/N: I know that this chapter is shorter, and that I have been a very bad girl leaving this story for a whole month, but please forgive me, I've been getting adjusted to school. I will try to have the next chappie up for Oct. 25. That is a guideline though. Give or take a few days. Reviews are much appreciated.