Chapter Two

My name is Lindsey Cook, and up until five seconds ago, I thought the world of Harry Potter was all some fictional tale created from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling. That is until I see the huge dragon and the Golden Trio staring at me in awe.

It was Hermione who reacted first. She whipped out her wand and pointed it at my chest. "Who are you? And how've you gotten past the enchantments?"

Ron looked over at Harry. "Guess you should have let Hermione put them up, mate. At least hers dont let anyone in," he muttered.

Harry elbowed Ron to shut up and looked at me expectantly.

"I uh...um...I'm not s-sure. I -I was just i-in my room then s-suddenly...here," I studdered, not able to form coherent sentances while I was in the presence of my heros. Granted, I wasn't a big fan of Harry. However, he looked even better than they had portrayed him in the movies. Daniel Radcliffe, in my opinion, had gotten uglier from the fourth movie on, now looking like a creepy rapist. I turned my attention to Hermione, whose thick hair was much more how I imagined the witch's hair to be, unlike Emma Watson's smooth curls. Ron, however, looked almost exactly like Rupert Grint, except for a bit taller, a longer nose, more gangley. Actually, he looked nothing like Rupert Grint, what the bloody hell am I saying?

It did not sound right for me to say bloody hell, even in my mind. I was American for christ sakes. It doesn't sound right in an american accent at all.

"She could be a spy for You-Know-Who," Ron said, moving next to Hermione.

"But she has an American accent. Since when did he start using people from overseas?"

"Is she a witch? She can't be a muggle. She apparated here for Merlin's sake."

Hermione shushed the boys with her left hand. "Where's your wand?"

I took a deep breath before I spoke this time. "I don't have one. I swear, I'm not from...this world. This might sound crazy but to me, you're just characters in a book."

The trio exchanged glances, and Hermione lowered her wand slowly. "I'm not saying we believe you, but we will hear you out," she spoke softly. "Ron, set up the tent."

Ron did this quickly and the Golden Trio, with me walking behind them, went into the magically enlarged tent. It was absolutely amazing. "I love magic," I muttered quietly to myself as I followed them into the kitchen area.

"Okay," Hermione took a seat at the table, Harry to her left and Ron his other side. "You say we're...characters in a book, like we're part of a story?" she asked incrediously.

"Yes. There are seven books in the series. They were written by J.K. Rowling," I explained, talking quickly. "Harry Potter and the Philosophers/Sorcerors Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows."

The trio looked at eachother, eyes wide. "And you...you've read all these books?" Harry asked, worried. "About me?"

"About everybody. I...I know almost everything that has happened to you Harry in the last seven years. I also know, well I know the future. This isn't where the seventh book ends," I said sadly, looking down, feeling tears in my eyes. "You still have a long way to go," I didn't want to say anything that might change the story, though I still wasn't sure if this was real or my imagination yet.

"Do...do we find the Deathly Hallows? Do we defeat Vol—You-Know-Who?"

I chewed nervously on the inside of the cheek. "I...I can't tell you. If I do, the whole story will be ruined. The seventh book also had an epilogue. If I say anything, your futures could be ruined."

"You saw our futures?" Ron stood up straighter.

"Seventeen years into the future..." I said softly.

"I can't tell you anything...but I will help as much as I can, though I am no witch."

"No no no, you must be," Hermione shook her head. "You would have to be a witch to travel here, into a book as you say."

"But what if I'm dreaming?" I asked, a hint of hysteria in my voice. "And after all of this is done, I wake up?"

"This isn't a dream. I'm real, Harry's real, even Ron's real," Hermione walked closer to me and looked into my eyes. "This is no dream."

We looked at eachother for a minute before a sighed. "Okay...the first thing we need to do is worry about your vision," I looked at Harry.

"What vision?" He asked, then his hands shot to his temple as pain shot through his forehead.