Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, he'd be paired with Luna. And I'd be rich enough to buy a small country. Which I'm not.

Okay, I'm an idiot. I've faced up to the fact. But I'm a damn lucky idiot, I can tell you that.

After sitting on the bench in my frizzy haired, wet jeaned glory, I took inventory. My clothes were fine if a bit damp. I had my purse slung over my shoulder. While that was soaked, my wallet was miraculously dry. I had, if I was lucky, three hundred dollars in there. American dollars. That wouldn't last long even if I found a place to get it all exchanged. The book was sitting innocently beside me.

Then I caught sight of a newspaper. 1991. That's when it really hit me. I was in Britain. I was in the past. I fell through a puddle. I was in a fictional universe. I fell through a fucking puddle!

I laughed like a mad woman. "This is not happening! This is SO not happening!" I really tried to convince myself that I was dreaming. That my mom would shake me awake on the couch and my sister would be snarking at me for being lazy. That my dad would be yelling at me for getting paint on the hardwood and my friends would be waiting at the mall for me. Some oddly rational part of my mind noted that denial really wasn't just a river in Egypt. I'm not quite sure what happened after that. Hysteria does that to you, I guess. Next thing I knew, it was morning and I was lying on the same stupid bench.

I cursed. Violently. I had really hoped it was a dream.

Freaking out was a luxury that I couldn't afford. I needed to figure out what to do. I couldn't get home, obviously. What are the odds of falling through another evil, magic puddle? Unless I did, I was stuck in the Harry Potter universe. And I had NOTHING but the clothes on my back, a ratty purse, and the book. I didn't have records. I didn't have credentials. A job beyond flipping burgers would be near impossible to procure. I was homeless and alone… And I was running out of options.

I could have tried getting in contact with past relatives, if they even existed in this dimension. I snorted. That would have gone over well. The idea was quickly nixed.

Maybe I could get in contact with the wizarding world? Someone probably knew something about how to get out of my predicament. I knew that world like the back of my hand; at least the parts in the books and fanfiction couldn't have been a complete waste. My lack of papers could be easily explained away as being an American muggle. Most of the wizards thought we (the non-magicals) were still primitive from what I could glean from the books. Their knowledge of the muggle world would be slim to none and highly incorrect. They would know even less about another country's muggle world. Yes, the wizarding world was my best bet. However, I was a normal person. A muggle. The likelihood that I'd even be able to see Leaky Cauldron was slim. And I couldn't remember the pub's address.

The only thing I could think to do was wander and pray I got lucky.

It was late in the day when I finally stopped walking. And me feet were KILLING me! Let me tell you, female shoes are meant for aesthetic pleasure, not comfort. I mean, jeez! It felt like my feet were bleeding. Oddly I was more worried that the blood would stain my shoes than I was about the bloody blisters themselves… Well, they were really cute shoes.

I just leaned against a shop window. I was TIRED. I didn't want to move. After checking the book, all I could tell was the famous wizarding establishment was between a book shop and a record store. As descriptive as that was (note the sarcasm), it wasn't enough for me to find the fictional pub.

I spent what felt like forever staring at the ground until someone started mumbling behind me. Someone mumbling about awful muggle fashion.

I turned and, lo-and-behold McGonagall, clad in a (rather hideous) business suit, exited the door behind me. My first thought was how similar she looked to her actor in the movies.

Told you I was a lucky idiot.

Notice how I said 'idiot' as the first words out of my mouth were something along the lines of "OMG! Minnie McGonagall! AAHHHHHH!" It was far from my finest moment, but at least it got her attention.

After the initial freak out, I got around to doing what I do best. Bullshitting. Yes, yes I know! I lied to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Shame on me and let my soul burn in hell and all that. Whatever. You would have done the same thing!

I spun an elaborate story of my misplacement in Britain by a witch friend who said I should get teaching experience in another country. I was supposed to be a tutor for Muggle Studies, explaining away my lack of magic. My papers were forgotten with my 'friend' who was currently on an expedition for magical artifacts in Brazil. There would be no way to contact her.

Of course she was skeptical. She wasn't an idiot. My story had holes the size of Canada and I had no proof of my admittedly slapdash story.

She agreed to take me to Hogwarts though. She had no reason to suspect me. And hopefully, I would give her no reason to.


HI! Okay I know that Embry/I is kinda random but she's/I'm supposed to be that way! It's a self insert and this is actually how I act. And chapters should be getting longer after she/I make it to Hogwarts.

So yeah... Review. I love feedback.