I don't own any of this. It belongs to J. K. Rowling (except for the original bits)

Chapter 4

The Gryffindor common room was much bigger than I thought it would be. In the movies, the room wasn't small, exactly, but it wasn't the expansive, furniture-filled room that I entered through the Fat Lady's painting. In fact, a lot of things differed from the movie. For example, Hermione didn't have the outright beauty that her actress had. Instead, it was a little bit more subtle, and hidden under lots of hair. Ron actually was portrayed more accurately, but Harry had sharper features and a more gangly build than in the movies.

I was kind of in shock from finding out that somehow I possessed magic, so I wasn't really in the mood to interact very much with the people around me. It appeared to mostly be fifth years and up in the common room, so they didn't pay much attention to me. I looked a little bit young, and I was dressed strangely, without shoes on, but apparently they figured I was some crazy third-year. A couple people spared me more than one glance, but most of them looked like they were busy, either playing games or doing homework. Hermione led me up to the sixth-year girls' dormitories and showed me a room. I was staying with her, Lavender, and Parvati, but neither was there. Hermione told me that a lot of people were enjoying the outdoors, because it was finally spring and the snow was melting.

"Your stuff is on the bed," Hermione said to me, gesturing to the four-poster. I raised an eyebrow as I caught sight of a new trunk on the mattress. I decided to wait until Hermione left to open it. I hadn't acquired it, so it must have been Dumbledore. I supposed that my story would stay the same with the students: I had no recollection of anything before falling from the Great Hall's ceiling. If anyone questioned me, I'd say that I'd been given veritaserum already.

"Do you want to go to the common room with me?" Hermione asked, "Because I'm going to go grab Harry and Ron and we're gonna go outside."

"No thanks," I said, not really paying attention to what she was saying. Hermione shrugged and left, gently closing the door on her way out.

The dormitory room held four beds, all four-posters and covered in red and gold. A round, red rug covered the center of the floor, and windows on the wall in front of me let sunlight in. A small chandelier-like light hung from the ceiling. It held about ten crooked candles, because apparently the wizarding world was above electricity.

I tossed my shoes down on the side of my bed and took a seat on the red duvet next to my new trunk. The mattress was, of course, extremely comfortable. For about a minute I just stared at the trunk, too afraid to open it up. What if Dumbledore knew I was lying and it was a portkey of some sort? Finally, after staring at it and not being able to resist my curiosity, I flicked the buckles on the front open and lifted the top of the trunk.

There were some clothes, books, and shoes inside. It appeared to have an undetectable extension charm on it, because there was no way the trunk could fit this much stuff if it wasn't altered by magic. I glanced down at my wrinkled outfit and winced at how bad I must look. As I changed into a pair of cropped chinos and a pale blue crew-neck t-shirt, I avoided thinking about my own magic. Instead, I wondered who had put together this collection of clothing. It might have been Dumbledore, which kind of freaked me out. How did these people know my shoe size and clothing size? The clothing wasn't exactly to my tastes, but it would have to do. I'd showered this morning in the hospital wing, so I didn't have to shower again here. I grabbed a brush and tidied my hair. It was slightly frizzy, so I sighed and braided it. As I did my hair, a piece of paper between two shirts caught my eye. As I pulled it out, I realized that it was a letter, most likely from Dumbledore. I ripped open the envelope and saw the elegant cursive script.

Miss Evans,

I have provided you with some essentials, but was unable to provide a wand, due to the fact that I cannot simply choose one for you—the wand chooses the wizard, of course. As you need one in order to study here, I thought it best that I have someone escort you to Diagon Alley for some supplies. Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp, please meet Professor McGonagall in front of the Great Hall.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledoore

So I would be getting a wand. Great. As I thought about it, I realized that it probably would have been best for me to just run away, under the guise of a completely magic-less teenage girl. I believed that if time travel existed than any changes to the past weren't really changes, as they had already happened, but I hadn't really time traveled. It didn't matter if this was all in my head, but if it wasn't… I didn't want to get trapped in a magical world where Voldemort succeeded in his quest for more power.

I sat down on the bed once more and stared out of the window. As memories of the windows in the hospital exploding began to replay, I winced and tried to think of something else. Somehow, my mind wandered to my parents.

They must be worrying about me. If I was in a coma, stuck in my mind right now, were they at the side of my bed, telling me to wake up? I hoped that they weren't hurting too much. I might've been constantly annoyed with them, but I loved them. I rubbed at my temples, not sure whether to hope to wake up in a hospital room away from magic, or whether to hope to stay here forever. I had, like most kids, wished on more than one occasion for the Harry Potter world to be real. But it had just been a wish. Now, apparently, my brain was either holding it against me or the wish had come true. Either way, I had to face what was happening in this world.

So I had magic. So what? That wasn't that out of place here, right? I might as well take advantage of it while I could. I didn't have a wand, so I couldn't suddenly start producing a patronus, but there had been cases of wandless magic in the books, before a kid started Hogwarts.

I stared at a pillow at the head of the bed.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I said. Nothing happened, and I felt stupid. I wasn't super powerful or anything, so I shouldn't be surprised. "Ugh!" I groaned and my head back towards the head of the bed. And hit wood. As I winced and rubbed the back of my head, I saw my pillow, on the floor, two feet away from my bed. Weird. Maybe it was worked. Just as I was about to try again, this time telling myself that I wouldn't look away from the pillow, the door flew open and Lavender walked in.

She was holding what looked like a basket full of cosmetics and hair products, which in itself seemed odd, but what stood out the most were the leopard spots that decorated her face. She stopped abruptly when she saw me.

"I suppose that you're my new roommate now?" Lavender asked, as if this was something unfortunate but something expected.

"Yep," I said. "Why do you have leopard spots on your face?" I asked, cutting right to the chase. She sighed.

"Liana and I were trying to change the fabric of my book bag to leopard print, but it bounced off of the bag and landed on me. You wouldn't happen to know the counterspell would you?" She asked, looking at me hopefully. I put an apologetic look on my face, despite the fact that I found her situation amusing, and shook my head.

"Sorry, I'm a bit behind on coursework," I said. She groaned and set the basket down on top of a bed that I assumed was hers.

Lavender was pretty, with long, wavy, blonde hair and white teeth. I'd felt kind of sorry for her when I read the books, because let's be honest—it sucks having a boyfriend who is in love with another person (and trust me, I've been there).

"Why are you suddenly going here, anyway?" Lavender asked me as she started rummaging through the basket. I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me.

"I can't remember," I said. It was the easiest school to work with, because I didn't have to elaborately weave lies together. If I had no memories, there was no story for anyone to find untrue. "That's why I was in the hospital wing; I don't remember anything before falling from the ceiling."

"Hmm," Lavender said, pausing her furious rustling in favor of staring at me. I could tell she wanted to pry an answer out of me, but she must've believed me, because she turned away once more. I was tempted to see if I could get the pillow to move again, but I didn't want Lavender to witness my utter humiliation if I ended up just staring at it and looking like I had a bad case of constipation. Instead, I hopped off of my bed and heaved my trunk off of the mattress and onto the floor at the foot of my bed. It wasn't too heavy, probably the result of a spell, but it still made a loud thump that startled my new roommate. Next, I grabbed a random book on potions and proceeded to curl up underneath my new bedsheets on my stomach, the book positioned in front of my nose.

I heard Lavender mutter, "Great, another bookworm," under her breath by I wasn't in the mood for an argument so I let it slide. I wasn't an overtly studious person, but I'd retained A's throughout high school so far, thanks to over-lenient teachers and the occasional study-session with various crushes. I put a lot of value in academics because I wanted to be successful in life.

A few hours later, after Lavender had apparently been unable to find whatever she was looking for in that large basket and had left in a mood, Hermione walked in, looking deep in thought. She walked over to her bed and began rummaging around in the pile of books on top of it. I raised an eyebrow.

"What are you looking for?" I asked her. She jumped a bit at my voice, as if she had forgotten I existed.

"Nothing, nothing," she said unconvincingly. "Just a book." A book that was about horcruxes, perhaps? Or maybe she was looking for a book about the room of requirement an how she could help Harry foil Malfoy's plan.

"I could help you look," I offered. I couldn't help but want to be at least slightly involved in the trio's plans.

"No, I'll be fine," Hermione said, to my disappointment. "How are you going to catch up?" She asked me, changing the subjects unsubtly.

"I'm going to be privately tutored," I said. It sounded very mysterious, but I didn't know anything more than that.

"Oh, really? I didn't know that teachers did that here these days. I mean, they did that in nineteen-eighty-two when Calista Covershire missed a year because she was turned into a baby until they could fix her, but I don't know of any other instances," Hermione said.

"Well, I guess I'm a special instance. I somehow doubt there have been many other students in my position," I said, addressing both situations: either someone in a parallel universe (or a coma), and someone who fell from the ceiling with no memories.

Hermione caught sight of a book on her bed, one that I couldn't see the title of.

"Oh! Here it is! I knew I had it…" she muttered to herself as she stuffed it into her bookbag. Looking back up at me, I caught a glint of something slightly akin to suspicion in her eyes. "Do you want to go eat dinner with Harry and me? Ron will be there, but he isn't that hard to ignore with the right spells," she said. I wondered if she and Harry suspected that I wasn't who I said I was.

"Er, sure," I said. "Let me just find a pair of shoes." I rummaged around in my trunk before pulling a pair of ballet flats out.

"Where did all of that stuff come from, if you don't remember anything?" Hermione asked. She crossed her arms.

"I dunno. Professor Dumbledore offered it to me. Maybe Hogwarts just has extra clothes or something for special cases." Where had he gotten it from, anyway? I hoped it hadn't been magicked off of unsuspecting witches or muggles. I shrugged on some robes and followed Hermione out the door. I didn't have a better explanation for her as to why I was here, especially since I didn't think she'd believe me if I told her the truth.

We descended the stairs as I listened to the crackling of the fireplace in the common room. It somehow managed to be huge and cozy at the same time. Large windows let some of the evening light in, and the room's beauty almost made me happy to be in Gryffindor.

Harry and Ron met us at the exit, and politely greeted me as we left the common room. A lot of students seemed to be heading to dinner, so the awkward silence was confined only to the bubble of space around the four of us. Harry kept glancing at me curiously, and maybe a bit sadly, Ron was acting a bit depressed, maybe because Lavender had dumped him, and Hermione still had that suspicious glint in her eye.

"So," I said brightly, "what do you guys do for fun around here?"

Hermione shrugged and Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at her. "Study," they all said in unison. Hermione glared at the two boys.

"Well, if you wanted all O's, you would study too. It isn't my fault you're setting your standards at E's," she said with a sniff. I smirked. Someone was touchy about their grades.

"Incoming," Ron muttered to Harry and Hermione, "from the left."

I glanced to the left and saw a tall, blond boy approaching. Two large boys flanked him. All three had identical sneers on their faces.

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry said. He looked stiff and maybe even… afraid? Maybe he was afraid because of what Malfoy had done to Ron.

"Potter," Malfoy greeted. "I see your weasel is out of the hospital wing. Shame. I wish that trash would stay where it belongs." I rolled my eyes at this. In my opinion, that was akin to saying that I was a nobody because I had a freckle on the back of my neck. In other words, it didn't matter.

"Shut up for one, Malfoy," Ron said with a glare.

"And who is this?" the blond boy asked, his eyes falling on me. "Has Weasley had another sibling? No, your clothes aren't second-hand. Started adopting fourth years, have we, Potter?"

"I'm not a fourth year, Malfoy," I said haughtily. "And even if I was, I'd still be better than you and your goons combined."

One of the goons, maybe Crabbe, brandished his wand and shot some red sparks at me. They bounced off of my shoes and I smirked. How very talented. I would have made fun of him, but I was reminded of the fact that I probably couldn't do much more than that.

Just then, Snape strode over with a flourish of his black robes and looked appropriately disapproving.

"Potter! I see you've taken to pigheaded dueling in the hallways again. Get to dinner you three, before I give you enough detention to keep you from every eating dinner again. You too, Evans." He said my name like it caused him physical pain, wincing slightly and lowering his voice. I remembered his past with Harry's mum.

"Malfoy, a word, please," Snape said. He turned away and I scampered off with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry and Ron didn't seem to have noticed the way Snape acted, but Hermione was regarding me curiously.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, even though I knew.

"Anything you want, really," Ron said. He got a dreamy look on his face. "Chicken, turkey, ham, potatoes, pudding." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, Rose. Ron only thinks with his stomach," she said. As we walked down the hallway, I noticed that Ron kept glancing at Hermione and Hermione at him. I looked at Harry and found him also observing the tension between them. He shot me a look and I nodded slightly. We shared a smile.

The hall was just as expansive as I remembered it. Four large tales were lined up, and students at them chatted and ate. The sky above us was colored purple, blue, and black, and bright stars twinkled down at us. My mouth might've dropped open. Everything in the castle was just so magical. I pictured a petite girl falling from the sky above my head, and hitting the marble floor. The trio guided me to a spot at the table, and we gained a few stares. I didn't know if it was because of my plummet a few days ago, or if it was because of the people I was currently in the company of.

When we were seated at the table, and our plates filled with various foods, Hermione pulled a book out and began to read it, occasionally sipping her pumpkin juice. The book was labeled Princes Through the Ages: A Comprehensive Guide the Monarchs You Know and the Royalty You Don't.

"Whatcha reading there, Hermione?" I asked her.

"Just a book about royalty. You can never know about wizarding and muggle royalty, you know," she said.

"She's looking for someone called the 'Half-Blood Prince,' " Ron interjected, earning an outraged look from Hermione. "You haven't heard of him, have you?" He asked me.

"Sorry, but no," I lied. "I have no idea who that is." I looked up at the higher table at the front of the room, perpendicular to the house tables, and caught Severus Snape's eye. He looked away first.