REVISED.

Weeks passed since Kirsten Carlisle discovered she was a witch.

The day after she met Hagrid, a Ministry official as promised by Fudge came by to escort her to Muggle London where she went shopping for some spare clothes. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't allowed to come with them under the Minister's orders.

It was a little awkward with the man named Dawlish, since he had kept sending uneasy and swift glances in her direction every now and then, but he had eventually warmed up to her at some point. She had questioned him incessantly about the Ministry, the investigation, and if she was truly the girl they were looking for.

Of course the last bit was unnecessary, considering he told her that the Trace was activated during her stay at the orphanage several nights ago, signaling the use of her magic.

"Have you thought about questioning the employees?" Kirsten asked him, as she shuffled through racks of clothing in the Muggle store. The man looked at her curiously, and she shrugged her shoulders. "Somebody in the Ministry could've done it, mate."

The man nodded his head, and if she didn't know any better she saw his lips quirk up. "I'll notify the Minister, Kirsten."

She grinned at him. That was the first time he's called her by her first name all day. She was ready to open her mouth when the man spoke up first.

"You think it's odd too, don't you?" he asked. She knew what he was talking about. He informed her earlier that upon investigating the Department of Law Enforcement, the Improper Use of Magic office has been constantly alerted by the Trace of her presence at the Orphanage, whenever she performed magic. Considering she lived in a Muggle area and that the Trace detected the underage magic she performed, the Ministry should have been on her ass in a heartbeat. To make matters more interesting, Dawlish also told her that the employees in the office tracking the young children that performed magic were stunned about this information.

"Of course I do. That's why I've been asking questions," she said, handing him another article of clothing. "Let's get out of here and grab some food."

She didn't know whether she almost gave him a heart attack that day due to her terrible language, which he had constantly reprimanded her for, or whether he wished a heart attack on her due to the ridiculous amount of questions she asked him.

"You never told me how you got here," Harry said, breaking the calm atmosphere at Florence Fortescue's Ice Cream Emporium. She stopped licking the chocolate ice-cream in her hand and looked over at him.

"I got on the Knight Bus. You were there, don't you remember?"

"I'm not talking about that," he said. Silence was his answer for the next couple of seconds as the grey eyed witch looked off in the distance. She's been avoiding this conversation with him and successfully so, considering he hadn't pushed the subject until now. It wasn't that she wasn't willing to share, she just didn't want to have to relive the anxiety she endured when she was at Blake's. Though she figured she could give him a quick rundown of the events that led up to the Knight Bus.

"Well…I ran away from Blake's and - "

"Wait a minute, you ran away?" Harry interrupted, a look of shock crossed his face. "What made you do that?"

"I got into it with Victoria...roughed her up a bit and - and I got so angry that I may have flung her against the wall with magic," she told him. His eyes widened at that admission. "DuPont's cousin, the toad I've told you about, she was coming while DuPont was going to the hospital for Victoria. I'd rather be anywhere than alone with her.

"So, I ran away and - " she paused as she remembered her encounter with Sirius Black and quickly decided to skip over that event "somehow the Knight Bus pulled up in front of me, and you were on it," she said, smiling at Harry. "I followed you into the Leaky Cauldron but ran into the Minister of Magic."

"Did he talk to you?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"He's the man that told me that I'm a witch, about the Ministry, and that I was missing. Something to do with the Trace…" she finished. Technically, Sirius Black told her she was a witch but she wasn't going to admit that to Harry.

"I still find that odd, though," Harry said, staring at his ice cream for a while before looking at her, "that you were missing and they couldn't detect you. You performed magic."

"I said the same thing, but Fudge got a little sensitive," she told him. "You don't think they're hiding something from me, do you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her question, a little smile playing on his face. "Did you really just ask me that?"

"Did I stutter?"

"I see your bruises and cuts healed."

"Well, I may have skipped over the fact that Victoria got a couple of hits on me too," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. The frown on the boy's face was more than evident to her that he didn't like what he heard. "Seriously, Harry. There's nothing to worry about. I'm fine now."

"You let her rough you up like that though?" Harry said, shaking his head at his friend. However, the girl could still see the worry in his eyes.

"She's the one who had to go to the hospital, Harry," Kirsten added, punching Harry's arm playfully. "Anyways, at least I didn't blow up my aunt."

"Let's not change the subject," he said, noticing exactly what she was doing.

"Oh come on. You blew up your old aunt Marge!" the young witch exclaimed. "The woman was a raving bitch."

"It was an accident," Harry insisted, but with the smile on his face it was hard to tell if he did it on purpose or not.

It was crazy to Kirsten that she was currently sitting in front of an ice cream shop in the middle of a magical marketplace with a friend from her past that she thought she'd never see again. Now here they were, catching up on life for the past couple of weeks. Or more so, Harry had caught her up on his life and the goings on of the wizarding community. He told her about the war and how his parents were murdered by Voldemort during the war, leaving him an orphan as a baby. He had told her about how he was well known to wizards as the Boy Who Lived. That he had survived the encounter the night Voldemort murdered his parents, not leaving with more than than lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was amazing really. Sad but amazing that she knew her primary school friend was actually famous for surviving and defeating who was supposedly the darkest wizard of all time. Famous for losing his parents while he survived.

"I believe it was too, Harry," Kirsten said sarcastically, devouring the rest of her ice cream and extending her hand to the bespectacled boy before her. "So shall we go for a wonderful stroll around the neighborhood, Mr. Potter?"

The boy accepted it without question and followed her to the shop that's been a slight obsession of hers for the past couple of weeks.

"Really, Kirsten?" she heard him whine. "You dragged me to a bookstore."

"Excuse me if I want to catch up with my own year," she told him, walking towards a stack of books for first years.

"Come on, I'll help you when we get to Hogwarts. And I'm sure Ron and Hermione wouldn't mind helping you catch up either," he added. A chuckle escaped his lips as she circled a small table with an assortment of books. "And since when did you like to read?"

"Why don't you go and admire that piece of chopped up wood you call a broom," Kirsten said dismissively, which only got her friend to laugh harder.

"Don't tell me you're still afraid of heights?" Harry asked, remembering the time she wouldn't even climb a tree with him.

"If my ass is depending on a flimsy piece of wood to support me in the air," she replied, causing Harry to laugh even harder, "then yes."

"C'mon, I'll teach you how to ride —"

"I'd rather you wouldn't. Also, I've always liked to read. I just didn't like the infantile books they assigned us," she said. "Now go."

Harry threw an amused look Kirsten's way before exiting the shop.

The first time Kirsten had entered this store a little over a week ago, she had gone straight to the shopkeeper and asked for books on Simurghs. Unfortunately, the woman had nothing of the sort and Kirsten had to ask for the next item on her list, books detailing the war with Voldemort. The woman had looked like she was about to piss herself, when Kirsten mentioned the name of the dark wizard, not understanding why a name of all things could be traumatizing. However, the woman complied after her initial shock, pointing the young girl to an insurmountable stack of books in the corner of the shop.

This time Kirsten didn't take to the shopkeeper and instead shuffled through the books on her own, selecting a few that piqued her interest. The shopkeeper giving her several suggestions, familiar with the young witch that's been coming into her shop daily. It didn't take much longer for her to exit the store, swinging her newest purchase in her right hand as she went to look for her friend.

"Kirsten!" she heard a voice shout, when passing Fortescue's shop. The teenager whirled around at the call of her name to find a tall, gangly redhead and a tanned, bushy haired girl standing beside Harry.

Ron and Hermione.

"Hi, Kirsten Carlisle," she introduced herself, holding out her hand for them to accept. "You must be Ron and Hermione."

Hermione took Kirsten's hand in hers shaking it with a "hi" and a smile herself. However, Ron's brow furrowed in a manner of confusion until a look of recognition crossed his face.

"You're that Muggle girl Harry kept talking about during our first year!" Ron exclaimed. "Wait — how did you get here?"

"She can't be a Muggle, Ron! Muggleborn, right?" the bushy haired witch asked, looking back at Kirsten.

"No, both my parents're wizards," she told them. She caught the interested looks they were giving her as if they wanted her explain further. "It's a long story."

"So you're going to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, taking note that Kirsten wanted to change the subject. The thirteen year old nodded her head in response.

"Will you be starting as a first year?" This time it was Ron.

"I'm being accepted as a third year," Kirsten replied, not missing the quizzical look Hermione threw her way.

"Really?"

Now Kirsten knew how Dawlish felt when she bothered him that day with her persistent questioning. She nodded her head in response at Hermione's question.

"What are the classes like? Are they actually challenging?" she asked and Hermione's eyes seemed to light up at the question. The bushy haired witch took it upon herself to answer.

"Oh you're going to love them," she said, smiling while bending over to pick up three bulging bags.

Kirsten saw the bushy haired witch struggling and immediately bent over to grab one, Hermione thanking her in the process.

"We're going to Magical Menagerie so I could get Scabbers looked at," Ron said, jerking his head in the direction of the store. "Hermione might buy an owl herself."

"Who's Scabbers?" Kirsten asked the redhead, and the wizard began digging in his pockets.

"My rat," Ron replied, pulling out a thinning and balding creature from his pocket.

Kirsten couldn't keep her mouth closed at the revolting sight. It's not like she didn't like rats, it was just this one in particular. If she didn't know any better, she'd say the rat was diseased as she observed the large hairless patches covering its body. She currently didn't know what to say to Ron, which was a first for her. Not knowing a person never stopped her from being brutally honest, but this was one of Harry's best friends. She felt like she practically knew him because of how much Harry told her about him. It also didn't help that Harry happened to tell her about the financial situation his friend's family was in after questioning why Malfoy mocked his family.

She was blunt, but not heartless.

"He's definitely not in the healthiest shape."

"Yeah, he doesn't look it," Ron agreed with Kirsten, observing his pet as well. She glanced at the rat in his hands again and stepped back quickly when the creature began to squirm uncontrollably in Ron's hand. The redhead stuffed Scabbers back in his pocket as the group of four set off to the shop.

They entered the store and the pungent odor of animals hit Kirsten's nose, reminding her exactly why she didn't want a pet. Every single inch of the walls were covered with cages inhabited by all sorts of animals.

Her eyes landed on the witch at the front counter who was currently dealing another customer.

"Are you going to get an owl, Kirsten?" Ron asked, nodding to the different colors of birds.

She shook her head as a simple response, and glared at Harry before he could open his mouth to tell his friends why exactly she didn't want a pet. It didn't take long before the wizard at the counter left, leaving the witch free for Ron.

"It's my rat," the redhead told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter then," the witch said, pulling out a pair of heavy black spectacles from her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers from inside his pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who began to look at Scabbers. The little rat's eyes stared at Kirsten from where it sat and she started to notice something odd about Scabbers. His eyes had been following her more so than any animal she's ever encountered. Well besides the dog that turned out to be Sirius Black.

"Hm," the witch said, picking Scabbers up herself. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," Ron said. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" the witch asked as she examined him.

"Er —"

Kirsten followed the witch's eyes moving from Scabbers' tattered left ear to his front paw with the missing toe.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she stated.

What an observation.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," Ron said defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," the woman said. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these —"

She indicated to one of the black rats.

"Show-offs," Ron muttered, causing Kirsten to grin. However, that grin was wiped away though as an involuntary shudder ran through her body. It was one that she was familiar with if someone were watching her. Glancing around the cluttered room, Kirsten realized there wasn't anybody else in the shop and everyone in the shop wasn't even looking at her. Except for the beady little eyes belonging to Scabbers.

Weird.

It was then that Kirsten noticed a large orange blob soaring towards Ron, landing on his head.

It was a cat.

"OUCH!"

The strange cat propelled itself right at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" the witch cried. Like a slippery frog, Scabbers shot himself from between the woman's hands, landed on the floor, and scattered to the door. Ron raced after his tattered rat with Harry on his heels, leaving Hermione and Kirsten alone with the witch.

The curly haired witch was more than amused when Hermione decided to purchase the cat named Crookshanks.

The group of four walked through the door into the Leaky Cauldron, Kirsten had long tuned out Ron and Hermione's bickering over her recent purchase. Her eyes landed on a balding redheaded man reading a newspaper at a table that the group was currently walking toward. The balding man looked up as they approached and smiled when his eyes landed on Harry.

"Harry!" he greeted. "How are you?"

Kirsten didn't have to guess this was Ron's father.

"Fine, thanks," Harry replied, throwing the man a grin and the man put down the newspaper. Movement caught her attention from the newspaper and she quickly averted her eyes from the man to see grey eyes peering back up at her from the paper.

Sirius Black was all that graced the cover of the magical newspaper, The Daily Prophet, since she stumbled into the wizarding world. She learned a couple of fun facts reading the paper the morning after Hagrid came along. The man was a prisoner of the wizarding prison Azkaban for the past twelve years only to escape a month before she ran away from Blake's.

A wizard who killed twelve people ended up saving her from getting flattened by a car.

Something didn't settle right with Kirsten when learning who Black really was. Sure he was a little gruff at first, but he was kind to her. Maybe those years in Azkaban did him some good... maybe he had an epiphany even, or -

"And who might you be?" The voice brought Kirsten out of her thoughts and she glanced up to see the redheaded man eyeing her with a look of unease on his face. Kirsten narrowed her eyes slightly, curious as to why the man would look at her that way.

"Kirsten Carlisle," the black haired witch introduced herself to him, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Arthur Weasley," he said, grabbing hold of her hand and shaking it. The look of unease slipped away from his features, a smile gracing his lips.

"They still haven't caught him then?" Harry asked, nodding his head at the picture of Sirius Black.

"Not yet," Mr. Weasley replied gravely. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" Ron asked. "It'd be great to get some more money —"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," his father told him. "Black isn't going to be caught by a thirteen year old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

Dementors.

Kirsten remembered reading up on Azkaban for a bit of bedtime reading after she read up about Sirius Black in The Daily Prophet. The man was able to escape dark soul wrenching creatures that guarded the prison. A feat no one could has ever done since British Ministry of Magic took to using the fortress as their prison.

Her attention turned towards a bustling noise coming from the door that led to Diagon Alley. A woman followed by two twin boys, an older boy, and a young girl strolled into the bar. It wasn't hard to notice that they were all related to Ron and his father. They all shared the trademark red hair.

The big group all joyously greeted Harry and began to talk to one another but the two twins turned to Kirsten, mischievous grins on their faces.

"And who is this remarkable young woman?" one of them said.

"Remarkable? I'd say charming!" the other replied.

"Others would say I'm both," Kirsten said in a knowing voice. "And they'd add fit."

The twins' grins widened at her, and she couldn't help but smile at them. "I'm Kirsten Carlisle. You two must be Fred and George, Harry's told me about you."

At the mention of Harry's name both of the boys turned their heads in his direction.

"So, Harry, you've been hiding this remarkable —"

"— charming —"

"— and don't forget fit young lady —"

"— in your trunk all this time?"

"She won't be hiding in my trunk this time round, she'll be a student this year," Harry informed them and the twins looked Kirsten's way, their faces exposing curious expressions.

"Really? She doesn't look like a firstie," George said, his eyes examining her. One of them poked her cheek while the other pinched her other cheek.

"Fred! George! Leave her alone!" the woman shrieked at her sons. The assault on her cheeks came to an immediate stop as their mother bustled over to where they were standing.

"I'm so sorry, dear. They're not exactly the most polite," she said, her eyes widened slightly as she looked at Kirsten.

"It's alright," Kirsten told her, then looked at the twins. "I'm starting as a third year."

Kirsten's eyes went to the only redheaded girl and the older boy who had also entered with Mrs. Weasley, Fred, and George. A badge gleamed from the older boy's chest.

"You two must be Ginny and Percy," Kirsten said, shaking hands with the girl first and then the older boy. He smiled kindly at her before marching up the stairs to where the rooms were located after Fred and George cracked a joke about him being Head Boy.

"We tried shutting him in a pyramid," George said. "But Mum spotted us."

She definitely liked this family.

Kirsten dug into the sumptuous chocolate pudding with the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry after eating their way through the five course meal.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" Fred asked as Kirsten put another spoon of pudding in her mouth.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," Mr. Weasley answered. Kirsten glanced at the head Weasley. Even though she just learned of the wizarding world, she knew it wasn't normal for the Ministry to lend its vehicles and security.

"Why?" Percy asked curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," George said with a serious tone. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods with HB's on them —"

"— for Humungous Bighead," Fred finished. Kirsten snorted into her pudding with laughter at the crack and found herself not to be the only one.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy repeated, this time with a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," Mr. Weasley said,"and as I work there, they're doing me a favor —" Even though his voice sounded casual, Kirsten could tell he was not telling them something. His ears were an unusual shade of red after all. That was usually code for terrible liar.

"Good thing, too," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground….You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," Percy said in a long suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley told him.

Dinner ended soon after and one by one, the Weasley children along with Harry and Hermione, went upstairs, leaving Kirsten alone with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"It was really great meeting you," she told them, surprising herself with her sincerity. It wasn't every day that Kirsten was genuinely polite to adults, but that could've been the case since most of the adults she met were her teachers that would spread gossip, DuPont, and that bloody cousin of hers.

"It was such a pleasure meeting you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. "Now go off to bed. You wouldn't want to be late on your first day."

"Good night, Kirsten," Mr. Weasley said, smiling at her.

"'Night," she said, heading up the stairs.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Kirsten's hands automatically reached the sides of her head as a sharp pain and her legs almost gave way. Luckily, the pounding beats came to a stop before that happened and the pain dulled.

"Are you alright?"

Kirsten looked up to see Harry with a concerned expression on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be," she told him, throwing a grin his way. "Where're you headed?"

He grinned back, however, she saw a brief flash of concern as he pointed over his shoulder. Shouting resonated from room ten and Kirsten let out a laugh as she heard Ron's voice yelling over his Percy's. "I'm getting Ron's rat tonic."

"Well, 'night, Harry."