A/N: I still don't own the rights to Harry Potter or Doctor Who

"Scarlett! Wake up!" My mother's voice echoed in my ears. Blearily, I looked around the small bedroom we shared, wondering why I just lost my dream.

"Mom?"

"It's your last day of school for the year. You don't want to miss it!" I watched as she swirled around, grabbing her purse off the chair.

"Yes, I do. I don't like school."

"Well just think, this is your last semester at regular school and then you'll probably be going to Salem. Won't that be fun?" I looked at her pulling up her auburn curls and scowled.

"Is not full of idiots?"

"Scarlett Tatiana Flannigan!" The middle name had been said and I knew I was in trouble. "I do not want to hear name calling out of your mouth ever again, are we understood?"

"Yes ma'am." For years I had wondered why my mother had given me the last name of Flannigan when hers was Vinoukurov. Apparently, she didn't want the other kids giving me a hard time and decided to give me a nice, normal name. It didn't help. The kids at school and in the local trailer park still made fun of me. My flaming red hair and glassy, silver eyes didn't earn me any friends. Neither did the fact that for a ten year old, I was rather tall. Not to mention there was the fact that I seemed to have inherited her seer ability. All in all, I was not a particularly popular kid.

I threw the covers off my legs and got dressed, grabbing the book I was reading along the way. "Alright, I'm dressed. Let's get this over with." Smiling, my mother pecked my forehead and grabbed my hand.

"Mrs. Combe is going to have to take you to school today, honey. There's something I have to do."

"Oh. Well, it's a half day today, is she going to be there to pick me up, too?"

"She knows." I couldn't help but notice how tightly she held on to my hand and the sadness in her eyes.

"Mom, what's going on? You're acting all-"

"I think you're imagining things, honey. Are you enjoying 'Sherlock Holmes'?"

"Yes, but-"

"Good. I always liked those books. Now go on, you don't want to keep Mrs. Combe waiting."

"But I-"

"Scarlett," My mother stooped and put my hand to her face. "I love you. Very, very much. Always remember that."

A sinking feeling descended upon my stomach. Why was she acting like this? I knew that she was like me; she saw things in her dreams. What had she seen?

"I love you too, Mom. Why are you-"

Tears formed in her eyes as she grabbed me into a hug. "I want you to always be a good girl. Remember who you are. You're going to be a great woman someday." And with that, she was gone. I started to go after her but Mrs. Combe had emerged from her trailer and took my hand.

"Come on, dear. We need to leave."

"There's something weird going on with my mom."

"There's no time to explain." Jolted, she yanked on my arm and, the next thing I knew, we were running. She shoved me into the backseat of her car and locked the doors. Terror filled me as she raced out of the park, driving down the road at an alarming rate.

"Mrs. Combe, what's going on? We aren't going to my school and my mom was acting like she's never going to see me again. What's happening?"

"I'll explain when we get there."

"Get where?" Angrily, I grabbed her arm from the backseat. "I demand you take me back! There's something wrong with my mom!"

"Dearie, you're not going to be seeing her again." She turned the wheel sharply and we flew down a forested road.

"Take me back! Take me back now! I don't know why you're kidnapping me but-"

"I'm doing this on Anya's request. She wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Safe from what?" I could hear my heart in my ears. This was all wrong. Any moment, I would be back in our bed, in our trailer. My mom would come in with blueberry pancakes and we'd laugh and tell stories until I had to go to school. This wasn't real.

Sighing, Mrs. Combe took another sharp turn, her tires screaming in protest. "Your mother saw something last week, while you were in school. There was going to be an attack on the park today."

"What, like men with guns?"

"No. Men with wands. These times are dangerous here, Scarlett. The magical world in America is in upheaval. Your mother saw what was going to happen and made a choice to do the right thing."

"Fighting them isn't the right thing! The right thing to stay with me!" Bawling, I clutched the seat in front of me. It all made sense then, why she had acted so strangely. She was going to die. My mother was going to die. I would never see her again.

"Scarlett, she's making sure you'll be protected. We contacted an old friend of mine in England. He's going to take you in. You'll be safe there."

"I won't have my mother!" Tears racked my body. How was I going to live without her? She had always been there. It was bad enough I never knew my dad, now I was losing my mom too.

We pulled into a private drive, a large abandoned house resting on the top of the hill. Mrs. Combe got out of the car and grabbed me by my arm. "No! I'm not going! I'm going back, even if I have to walk!"

"It won't do any good, Scarlett. She won't be there."

"I need to be there!"

"Scarlett! Stop it! Stop fighting me!" Shocked, I stopped in my tracks. "Your mother's last request to me was that I get you to safety. I'm not going back on my word. You can come willingly, or I can force you. Either way, you're not going back."

Sniffling, I grabbed my backpack from the ground and slung it over my shoulders. "I need to take this book back to the library..."

"Scarlett, forget the damn book. There's more important things at the moment." With that, she grabbed my hand and we made the climb up the hill. I looked at the grand, decaying Antebellum house and wondered about its former glory. All the things that could have been. An infinite number of possibilities, dashed. I clung to the book in my hands like it was life. It was the last thing I had that signified mine and my mother's relationship.

We entered in through the dilapidated door. The once grand parlor was rotted and covered in dust. The wind whistled through the clapboarded windows. Of all the places to be, this would never be on my list. "In here, Scarlett. Quickly."

I followed Mrs. Combe into a large room with the biggest fireplace I had ever seen. It was marble, and though the years had not been kind to the rest of the house, it seemed as if the fireplace would remain forever. Mrs. Combe took a bag out of her purse and opened it, holding it out to me. "Take a handful of powder."

I did as she said and wiped tears away with my free hand. "Now step into the fireplace. That's a good girl." She turned me around to face her and smiled wearily. "Your mother loved you, Scarlett. Never forget that."

"I know."

"Alright, throw the powder floor and speak clearly 'Alderton Manor'."

"What's going to happen to me?"

"You're going to be fine, Scarlett. I promise."

Steeling my courage, I dropped the powder and spoke with intention, "Alderton Manor." Green flames appeared before my eyes and I felt like I was being pulled through the top of my head. The sensation was dizzying and terrifying as I watched other fireplaces appear in and out of my view. Finally, it stopped and I was flung into a dark room.

Coughing, I looked around at my surroundings. A great tapestry hung upon one wall, while a large and aged dining set was to my right. With wobbly knees, I stood to my feet. My voice was hoarse as I shouted, "Hello?"

A shuffling could be heard from behind the two doors leading into the room. With a click, they opened. Standing before me was a small, wizened man of indiscernible age. "You must be the Flannigan girl." He stated without enthusiasm. "Follow me."

I did as he asked, following him up the biggest and grandest staircase I had ever seen in my life. We went down a narrow, dimly lit corridor only to stop at a nondescript oak door. The man knocked three times and an "Enter" was heard. The small man opened the door for me, leaving me to step through. As soon as I was through, the door closed behind me.

"So, you're the Flannigan girl." The man's voice was deep with age and I couldn't help but wonder how Mrs. Combe ever knew someone so wealthy.

"Yes, sir." My voice cracked.

"I understand you lost mother today. My deepest condolences."

The knot in my throat warned me of another influx of tears. "Thank you, sir."

"My name is Arkie Alderton. Welcome to my home."

"Thank you, sir." The tears still threatened to release at any moment and I hoped he would take pity and let me cry in wherever my room was to be.

"You've had a very long day and I'm sure you're tired. We can talk in the morning. I'll have Norwall take you to your room."

Like clockwork, the tiny man returned and led me up another flight of stairs and into an open, sun-filled bedroom, the likes of which I had never seen before. The bed alone was easily the size of our entire trailer. I turned to thank the man named Norwall but he was gone. On any other day, I would have eagerly explored my surroundings, taking in all the sights. But I had lost my mother that day and I felt hollow and alone. The dam burst, and I flung myself onto the bed, having wept myself to sleep.