another update... i really dislike essays on hitler :(

"What we need to do," Dumbledore said, surveying the girl over his long thin fingers, "is work out how you got here."

Charlotte, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and an apologetic Neville Longbottom were assembled on a motley crew of squashy armchairs opposite Dumbledore's desk. Snape was standing behind them all, a very sour expression on his thin face.

"No shit!" Charlotte exclaimed before she could stop herself. "I need to fucking go home!"

She kind of blushed at her language, but no one else looked unduly affected. Dumbledore was still smiling pleasantly. In fact, he was holding out a dish of lemon drops, which he'd already offered to her about fifty times in the past five minutes. She politely declined, and he cheerfully popped one in his own mouth and placed the dish back on the table.

"Where is your home?" The girl, Hermione, asked her quickly, blushing a little at speaking out of turn. "I mean, you don't sound like you're from around Britain…"

"Britain!" Again, Charlotte seemed out of control. "FUCK no, I'm from Australia!"

Dumbledore had produced a world map Charlotte could swear had not been there before. He pointed to the country in question. She nodded.

"Interesting," he muttered. "Very, very interesting… Severus, what do you make of this?"

Charlotte turned to look at the man skulking around behind them. He was frowning.

"I do not make anything of this, Headmaster," Snape snapped. "I'm the potions master here, not a cartographer. I should get back to my classes-"

Dumbledore cheerfully held up a hand. "No, Severus, you will stay. I'm just thinking… Miss Jones, how did you say you ended up in the Forest, again?"

Charlotte heard Snape sigh impatiently. She cleared her throat. "Umm, you know, fell down, hit my head, blah blah blah, ended up here… Please, surely one of you has a phone I can borrow? Just to call my parents?"

Beside her, the red-head muttered, "a what?"

Dumbledore chuckled again. Charlotte had no idea why he was so happy.

"I'm afraid we do not use telephones on this premises, Miss Jones," he told her. "I can offer you an owl… No doubt the Ministry would want to become involved should you try to contact your parents, however. Whether there is a way to get around that, and the subsequent brain-altering that would no doubt occur…" He sighed, looking tired for the first time. "Well that remains to be seen."

"Headmaster." Snape spoke again. "Might I suggest that we have, uh, slightly more pressing matters at hand than the memory loss of a Muggle? Might it not be prudent to, ah, simply let this go?"

Charlotte noted the black-haired boy with the comical scar glancing behind him with suspicion. She didn't know what to make of it.

Dumbledore began cleaning his glasses absentmindedly. "On the contrary, Severus, I believe this incident may work out to our advantage…" There was a long moment of silence, broken only by a gnawing sound from the birdcage. Charlotte tried not to make eye contact with any of the pictures. She didn't know if she'd been hanging around stoners too much, but she could swear they were whispering behind her back…

"Miss Jones," Dumbledore finally addressed her. "I am going to send you off with Miss Granger. She will loan you clothing and I will arrange a spare bed in her dormitory for the duration of your stay with us. I'm afraid we'll have to pretend you are her cousin, a sudden, if unorthodox, addition to our school – temporarily, of course. Do not reveal yourself to anyone. You understand, it's for your own good. Severus, you can inform the other teachers." He stood up, and they all understood the meeting to be over. "I will be in contact."

Charlotte felt a little helpless, with all of this being decided without her. "Wh-what about… do you have computer access? Could I not contact my parents by email or something?"

Dumbledore looked solemn. "You understand, Miss Jones, this is a very sensitive issue. Our kind generally do not take kindly to your kind knowing about us." A twinkle played across his eyes. "I do believe, however, you will find life here… hmm… quite different to what you are used to. I trust you treat it as a learning experience and enjoy our hospitality. Good day to you all."

The school… was strange. Charlotte still couldn't get over how primitive everything was. They wrote with quills for fucks sake! QUILLS! Like, made out of bird feathers and with ink wells and everything! It was so strange.

Hermione tutted at her when she cursed during History of Magic, because she had dropped ink spots all down her page. With a wave of Hermione's wand the spots disappeared, leaving Charlotte to murmur annoyances ("oh, so it's ok if you've got a fucking wand…"). In fact, the copious use of magic, and the basic idea that this was a school for witches and wizards made Charlotte more and more convinced of her theory that she had died and was now enjoying a somewhat strange afterlife.

"Ah!" she screamed as Hermione elbowed her to stop her from going to sleep.

Well, perhaps not enjoying, per se.

But this was unreal. The old man hadn't been kidding when he offered her an owl – thousands of them seemed to flood through the windows of the massive hall where they had lunch. Charlotte wrinkled her nose as she protected her roast beef. This was entirely unhygienic – feathers fluttering everywhere!

"So then," Ron was mumbling through mouthfuls of chicken, "Malfoy elbowed me and I pushed him-"

"Yes, yes," Hermione said hastily. "We know that Ron, we were there, remember? We're always there. We always stick together. That's why none of your stories are ever funny-"

Charlotte was pretty sure they had crushes on each other. It was cute.

"Dude," she said to Harry, who looked surprised to be addressed in such a way. "Where does all this food come from! I mean, do you guys have ovens and that, if you don't even have pens?"

Harry snuck a glance over to Hermione. "Well," he began, "the house-elves make it…"

Charlotte almost spat out her mouthful. "House-elves? You mean, like little elves who do the housework?"

Harry nodded.

"Cause where I come from we call them slaves!" Charlotte exclaimed. Hermione was nodding heartily at her. "You guys live in a fucking time warp! This is all so wrong!"

Of course Ron had to put his foot in it then. "It's ok, though," he said reassuringly, reaching for more chicken. "They're kind of like… lesser beings than us."

Charlotte fixed him with a glare. "That's what everyone said about pigs and they sure were eating their words when swine flu rolled around! You guys are sick. This place is sick!"

Hermione looked around nervously. "Umm… Charlotte? People are starting to stare…"

Charlotte grumbled, pushing her plate away from her. She was feeling anxious. She was feeling stressed out. The robes were too loose and the dumb stick Dumbledore gave her to carry was becoming inconvenient. The food was good… but the room was too hot. There were too many people around… All she really wanted was…

"Facebook!" she wailed, putting her head on her hands. "I just need to go on facebook! I have no idea what anyone is up to! I feel so alone and isolated! I feel so-"

Embarrassingly, what else she might have said was lost as she burst into tears. Hermione awkwardly patted the girl on the back, shaking her head at Ron who was making a 'loopy' sign he usually reserved for Luna Lovegood. Harry, on the other hand, was staring at the girl with realisation.

"That's- that's exactly how I feel!" he exclaimed.

Ron punched him in the arm playfully and burped. "Grow a pair, mate."

Dumbledore took some time out from his debate with Flitwick and McGonagall regarding who would win in a fight: Lockhart or Edward Cullen (oh Hogwarts alumni) to survey the children of the school spread out before him. He beamed as he watched Hermione embracing the Muggle girl, Charlotte. Nothing warmed his heart more than seeing tolerance and understanding among the students. This muggle girl was going to be good for the wizarding world… in more ways than one.