25th August 2013

I was stumbling through the dark streets of London at a very late (or early, depending how you look at it) hour. My feet were sore from being in my black six inch high pumps, and my high-waisted black skirt and grey lace crop top were doing nothing to keep the nightly chill away. I pulled my BlackBerry out of my clutch and looked at the time, just as Big Ben chimed in the distance. 1am. Great. I had been wandering the streets since 12:30, looking for my friend, Grace, who had stormed out the club after her ex threw a Magners over her 'accidentally'. Jerk.

"Grace!" I called out again, noticing that the wine-induced slur to my voice was slowing fading and that the chilly August night was sobering me up. I saw that I had turned onto Charing Cross Road, and sighed. I wasn't a local to London, was only visiting from up North, but I was pretty sure Charing Cross Road was nowhere near Grace's Halls of Residence, where I was staying, and where she had probably stormed off to. To make matters worse, despite the fact that I had visited London a few times in my life, I was still a compete novice when it came to using the London Underground, and so had absolutely no clue which line to get on or which direction to go in to get back to Bethnal Green tube station, which was the one we had taken the tube from on our way out earlier in the evening.

Great going, Grace, leaving me in the middle of freaking London! I huffed, and, unable to put it off anymore, sat down on one of the plastic seats in a nearby bus shelter, sighing in relief as the weight was taken off my feet. My new black pumps were gorgeous, with a lovely velvety material covering them. They, along with the rest of the outfit I had bought to wear for Grace's birthday, had cost me a chunk of my student overdraft – yet they were still uncomfortable after wearing them for seven hours straight. I shivered as the wind blew. My crop top came to above my belly button, and was only thin lace, so that my black bra was clearly visible through it. Despite the fact that my skirt was high waisted, it still left a strip of skin between it and my top, and it only flared out to mid thigh, meaning that my legs, arms, and most of my upper half were completely exposed to the biting wind. So much for summer. Bloody England.

I tried to call Grace again, but it cut straight to voicemail. It wouldn't have surprised me if she'd gone home and got changed out of her Magners-soaked dress and then gone straight back out again, forgetting all about me in her rage against her crazy ex. I quickly sent her a text, hoping she'd get it and call me back.

*Grace, call me, I'm lost - Jess x*

I sighed and ran a hand through my messy waves, then inwardly groaned as I saw the rain that was beginning to fall onto the pavement. Great. Just great. I so did not want to walk back in the rain. Maybe if I could find somewhere, a pub or something, I could ask them to call me a taxi and hope that Grace had some money back at the flat for me to pay the driver with. As thunder grumbled in the distance, I decided that this would be my best option, and I stood up and began to totter down the street, wincing at the pain in my feet. There were a few people ahead of me, a family by the look of it from the two taller figures carrying a child each, and one shorter one trailing behind. They were wearing coats (wish I'd thought to bring one), and obviously were looking for somewhere to escape the rain as well.

"Seriously Dad, how far is it? I'm knackered, that party was so boring, too!" I heard the shorter figure moan as I neared them. The taller one turned round to look at the shorter one, the hood of his coat (it looked more like a cloak now, from how close I was) fell back, and I saw his messy dark hair.

"Not far now, just round this corner James. Come on, son, keep up, Albus and Lily need their beds." The boy, James, shoved the hood off his own cloak and I saw he had the same messy hair as his father, and also that he looked around eleven or twelve. He petulantly kicked a stone and, as I walked closer to them, I saw him smirk as it bounced off his fathers' heal.

"I'll pretend I didn't feel that James," his father called behind him. "Come on."

"Yes, come on James," a female voice called, and I saw the other figure turn to look around, holding out her hand, the one that wasn't holding a sleeping child. She was smiling tiredly, her long red hair falling out of the hood of her cloak. The boy looked at his mother and smiled, rushing to catch up to her and grasp her hand.

"I didn't even want to go to that stupid party," I heard the boy, James, tell his mother. I continued to walk behind them. I began to wonder how they hadn't noticed me; my heels were certainly making enough noise on the pavement. They were obviously heading somewhere, and maybe that place was dry and had a taxi company's number.

"Now, James, be nice, Aunt Fleur put a lot of work into it. And, because you were really good, we'll get you something special when we go shopping for your school things tomorrow," the woman informed the boy. They suddenly stopped, and looked up at the building in front of them.

"See, we're here, now you can stop moaning, James," the man said. I looked at the building they were in front of, and frowned. They were staying there? In a rundown old shop? Erm...ok? The man seemed to have noticed that I had stopped walking when they had, because he turned to look at me, eyes narrowing, and walked forwards, the child still in his arms.

"Can I help you?" he asked. I blinked, startled that he was addressing me, and smoothed down my short skirt, feeling slightly exposed.

"Erm...no, sorry, I was just wondering if you had the number for a taxi firm? I'm kind of lost, and stranded," I thought that was the best thing to say, rather than 'I was following you to see where you were going'.

"No, sorry, I don't," the man told me, his voice suddenly a lot gentler, "I think there should be some up on the main street up there, though, you could give them a try?"

"Oh, thank you," I said, feeing quite annoyed at Grace now. How the hell was I supposed to get back? The man smiled at me and, securing the sleeping child (I now noticed it was a dark haired boy), turned and walked back to his family, and they walked into the dilapidated old shop. I frowned, what could they possibly want –

My eyes went wide. How on Earth? The shop was not a shop; either that or I was seeing things. It looked like a very odd pub. The windows were dark, and a sign hanging above the door read 'The Leaky Cauldron'. The family were obviously staying there. 'The Leaky Cauldron'? What crazy person would name a pub after the one in Harry Potter? My alcohol addled brain could not work it out. Sighing, and deciding that I really needed to find a way to get back to Grace's Halls, I began to wander down the street again, in the direction the man had pointed.

Then my life changed. As I cast one last look back at the odd looking pub, just to make sure that it was actually a pub and not an abandoned shop, as I had first thought, I saw it. It was glinting on the ground in the doorway of the pub, in the light from the above street light, and I moved back towards it. Maybe the family had dropped something? I crouched down to have a closer look, squinting to make my vision clearer – I'd seriously had too much bubbly.

It was a thin, golden chain, with what looked like a small hourglass charm on the end. How cute, I thought to myself, and I reached out to pick it up.

I can't really explain what happened next, or why, in my drunken state, I found it cool that the hourglass spun, or why I thought it would be a good idea to spin it. All I know is that I did, and in that next second I felt like my world had been turned on an axis and was spinning wildly, like when you're on the Waltzers at the fair. I remember becoming so dizzy that I shut my eyes, and then, when it got too much, I fell to the pavement, my head cracking against something solid.

That was the end of the world as I knew it.

OK! So, Hope you're all likeing it so far, I know it's only the first proper chapter but I have big ideas for this story. Did you guess who the family of people were? Pretty sure you did!

My theory for this story, to avoid any confusion, is that even if the Harry Potter Books existed, to Muggles they could be a set of story books, but to wizards a series of books chronicling the life of 'The Boy Who Lived'. If there really was a Wizarding World out there, how would ordinary muggle people even know about it? This story, rather than being one where someone gets transported into the Harry Potter world, is one where the world of Harry Potter already exists alongside the ordinary world, but it was just never known about about by the Muggles, who would believe it to be just a fictional story. However, there is still a little meddling by magic thrown in there (how else will Jess get to Hogwarts when she is nineteen?).

Anyway, next chapter should be up soon. Any reviews, good or bad, would be appreciated, to improve my writing skills. Thanks!