Hey, it's been a while hasn't it? So in case you didn't notice, I changed part of Astraia's dream so James calls her "little doe". This will come into more significance soon.

Last night, she had experienced one of the best nights of sleep in her short life. It had been followed, after waking and a brief breakfast of sausage cooked by the fire, by travelling with Hagrid to London. She had taken a look through the supply list while they were on the tube.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

wand

cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set

glass or crystal phials

telescope set

brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Excuse me, Hagrid. I haven't any money of my own. How will I pay for all this?"

Hagrid chuckled and shook his massive head. She could see the whites of his teeth gleaming from inside his dark nest of a beard. "Don't worry about that. Do you think your parents didn't leave you anything?"

Astraia was astounded and it showed in her gobsmacked expression. "Well, I suppose I never really thought about it."

Hagrid offered her a kind smile and tried to reassure her. "That's alright. Wizards have their own bank. It's called Gringotts and it's run by the finest goblins around. They'll take good care of you. Gringotts is the safest place in the world for anything you want to keep safe —'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter of fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. For Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly.

Astraia gave a smile of thanks before she moved on to her next question. "Even if I do have the means to pay, can we really find all this in London?"

"If you know where to go," replied Hagrid.

They were on a mundane road near the tube station in London. She had asked Hagrid what he meant, but he hadn't answered. Although, she wasn't certain, but she thought she saw something of a sparkle in his black eyes.

As they started down Charing Cross Road, Hagrid started to slow down and Astraia looked at him curiously. Why were they slowing down? This was just an ordinary street full of people. Could there really be piles of wizarding gold buried miles beneath them as Hagrid had later told her on the train? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Or was this some cruel joke the gods were playing on her? But this was everything she had ever wanted. She had to believe it. Besides, Hagrid had given her no reason to doubt him as he had been nothing but kind and reassuring so far.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Astraia probably wouldn't have noticed it was there. The other people on the street didn't even glance at it. Their eyes slid from shop to shop as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. Astraia was certain that it was some kind of enchantment. Before she could ask, Hagrid had already herded her inside.

While the interior was dark and shabby, Astraia noted that it was very well kept. There was barely any dust at all. She was impressed. With a little more work they might even be able to meet Aunt Petunia's standards.

Everyone in the pub seemed to know Hagrid; they all waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, nodding in Astraia's direction.

She made sure to smile politely when he looked in her direction. "Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Astraia, "is this — can this be — ?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Astraia Potter . . . what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Astraia and seized her hand, tears in his eyes. "Welcome back, Miss Potter, welcome back."

Astraia wasn't quite sure what to say. Everyone was staring at her. An old woman was puffing on a pipe that she hadn't realized had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

There was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Astraia found herself confronted with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron and they all seemed insistent on shaking her hand.

"Doris Crockford, Miss Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last." "I'm pleased to meet you as well."

"So proud, Miss Potter, I'm just so proud." "Thank you."

"Always wanted to shake your hand — I'm all of a flutter." "Hello"

"Delighted, Miss Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle." Now she was quite sure that she actually recognized this one. He had bowed to her when she was in a shop with her Aunt Petunia. Petunia had gone pale and dragged her away before she could react. She wasn't going to mention it though, just smile politely and nod.

Astraia stood there shaking hands for so long that her cheeks starting to hurt from keeping the smile on her face.

A pale young man made his way forward, seemingly very nervous. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" greeted Hagrid. "Astraia, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"M-M-Miss P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Astraia 's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" she was genuinely interested in the answer.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Astraia to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on — lots to buy. Come on, Astraia."

Doris Crockford shook Astraia's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard.

Hagrid grinned at Astraia.

"Told ya, didn't I? Told ya you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' to meet ya — mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Not to be rude, but is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience. . . . They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit of trouble with a hag — never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject — now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? This world was even bigger than she had anticipated!

Hagrid was counting bricks in the wall across from the door.

"Three up . . . two across . . ." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Astraia."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Astraia's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Astraia didn't even care to watch the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall behind her.

Hagrid pointed at a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. "You'll be needin' one of these," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get your money first."

Astraia couldn't decide what she wanted to look at more. Everything was fascinating to her. A woman passing her was muttering to herself about the price of dragon liver. She spied a wall of owls with a sign declaring it Eyelops Owl Emporium. Several boys about Astraia's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. She heard a boy say one of them was "the new Nimbus Two Thousand." An orange cat with a squashed face that looked slightly familiar darted across the alley. It was even better than she had imagined it would be. Astraia had a look of awe painted across her face.

As they continued through the alley, bright colors everywhere she looked, she noticed the white steps that led to an expansive set of bronze doors that appeared to be a snowy white building at the end of the alley. Growing closer, she noticed the short figure covered in gold armor and equipped with a spear flanking the doors.

"Gringotts," said Hagrid, presenting the building to her as they reached the steps.

Now climbing the steps, she internally debated with herself and decided that this was a Buckingham Palace situation and kept her head straight when passing the guard posted at the door. Walking through the door, she noticed something engraved on the surface.

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

She looked upon the engraving with a solemn face and vowed to think twice before taking offense with these "goblins" as she recalled. "Like I said, you'd be mad to try and rob it," said Hagrid with a serious tone.

The next second they were in a vast marble hall with about a hundred clerks were sitting on high stools behind a long counter each with a long line of customers and too many doors to count leading off the hall. Hagrid began to direct Astraia to the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come to take some money out of Miss Astraia Potter's vault."

"You have her key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter. The goblin wrinkled his nose as Hagrid dropped something on his ledger. Astraia couldn't help but watch the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

"That seems to be in order. And would Miss Potter like to see the Potter Family Account Manager today?" The goblin asked.

Astraia was stunned but was careful to not let it show and Hagrid seemed a little dumbstruck by the question as if he had never even considered it would be asked. After a moment, Hagrid looked at Astraia with the same dumbfounded look and Astraia determined that she was going to have to answer.

"Not today, thank you," she said politely and nodded.

Hagrid seemed to come back to himself and started to speak a little hurriedly. "And I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," he said importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed everything back into his pockets, they were led towards one of the doors leading off the hall. Griphook held the door open for them. Once inside Astraia was surprised. She had been expecting more marble. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches and sloped steeply downward. She noticed there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in — Hagrid with some difficulty — and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a max of twisting passages. While Astraia had never been on rollercoaster, she imagined it was quite like this. She was surprised to find that she rather liked it. She was even more surprised when she noticed that Griphook wasn't steering. It seemed that the cart knew it's own way.

Once, she thought she saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late — they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

Hagrid looked very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, he got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Astraia gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze coins.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Astraia's - it was amazing. More than she had ever dreamed. The Dursleys couldn't have known or they'd have snatched it up before she could blink. How often had Vernon complained how much Astraia cost to keep? And this entire time there had been a small fortune belonging to her, buried deep under London?

After Hagrid pulled a bag for her out of his enormous coat, he helped Astraia pile some of her fortune into it. While doing this, he explained the names and worth of the three different types of coin she saw in the vault.

"Right, that should be enough for a couple of' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for you." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook, but Astraia thought she saw a certain glee in his eyes.

They were going even deeper now and appeared to be gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Astraia tried to leaned over the side to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled her arm to maneuver her back into her seat.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

Astraia was sure that something extremely valuable had to be in this vault to warrant such extraordinary security measures.

"Well I at least know my money is safe," said Astraia in a deadpan tone.

"Absolutely, Miss. We at Gringotts take great pride in our reputation for safety," said Griphook with a rather nasty smile.

When the door opened, Astraia thought it was empty at first. Then she noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Astraia was very curious to know what was lying beneath that paper.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One exhilarating cart ride later and Astraia didn't know where she wanted to go first. She was almost trembling from the fact the she was holding more money than she had even seen in her entire life. When she had thought about her parents their monetary assets had certainly never come to mind.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Astraia, would ye mind if I slipped off for a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."

"Absolutely, Hagrid. Feel better. I'll be fine." Astraia assured him and waited for him to turn around before she took a deep breath, steeling herself, and headed into Madam Malkin's shop alone.

Madam Malkin was a smiling witch dressed completely in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Astraia started to speak. "Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

Also inside the shop was a boy around her age with pale blonde slicked back hair and a sour expression on his face. She gathered he probably didn't want to be clothes shopping with his mother of all people. She was sure that the woman with him was his mother based on their similar appearances. Astraia couldn't help but admire the opulence of the picture the blonde woman presented.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?

She was slightly startled by his bluntness but she soldiered on.

"Hello," she greeted, "how do you do? Yes, I am going to Hogwarts."

"Draco, it's rude to not introduce yourself. Hello, I am Narcissa Malfoy." Her voice was low and refined. It sounded like the kind of voice that Petunia tried her damnedest to emulate. Tries and fails, constantly. Of course, she would never tell her that. Besides, it was too much fun to watch her make a fool of herself.

The boy, who she now knew was Draco, grimaced and appeared to be trying not to roll his eyes.

"Apologies. My name is Draco Malfoy." He said, slightly begrudgingly.

"May I say madam that you are as beautiful as your namesake? My name is Astraia Potter." Astraia wasn't expecting the reaction that her name brought upon these two. While the woman's reaction, her eyes became icy, was subtle, the boy's was far less so. Immediately, there was an ugly sneer on Draco's face.

"Potter, you say? If you're Astraia Potter, then why are you here all by yourself? Are your guardians not good enough?"

Astraia was rather taken aback by his sudden hostility, but before she could even contemplate answering, his mother stepped in.

"Now, now Draco. It's rude to ask such questions of a lady."

Before anything else could happen, Madam Malkin reappeared and led Astraia away where she was then handed off to an assistant. Thirty minutes later, she was sartorially ready for school and the Malfoys were gone.

She walked through the door and, immediately spotting Hagrid walking toward her, started in his direction.

After acquiring the rest of her supplies, she was rather excited about what the telescope implied, Astraia looked to Hagrid as they walked through the alley.

"I still need a wand."

"Well, you'll be wanting Ollivanders for that. There ain't no place better. I just got one more thing I got to do, so I'll leave you to it if you don't mind."

As she walked towards the shop, she noticed the shop window boasted that they had been in business since 382 BC.

I suppose this means that there's no one more qualified to get my wand from, she thought to herself reassuringly.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as she stepped inside. Astraia was so excited she could feel a tremor in her hands. She could feel the magic in the air.

The shop appeared to be completely empty. "Hello," she called out, hoping for an answer. She was beginning to feel foolish when she heard a soft voice practically whisper "Good afternoon."

Astraia could barely contain her jump of surprise. An old man was standing on a moving ladder with wide pale eyes shining like moons.

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Miss Potter." He climbed down the ladder and moved over to tall leaning stack of oblong boxes that she assumed contained wands.

"It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands." He choose a box from the stack and carefully pulled it out. She was rather impressed when the stack stayed standing and didn't completely topple over. He took the wand out of its box and handed it her. The wand was in her hand for about two seconds before Mr Ollivander had snatched it away again. This continued in the same vein for another ten minutes. The longer it took, the more excited Mr Ollivander appeared to become.

Astraia was beginning to become a tad frustrated but you wouldn't know it when looking at her. She had been dreaming about having her very own wand since she had read about them in her research about magic. Finally, she felt it necessary to step in.

"If it helps at all, I've always been rather fond of rowan trees."

After all, rowan is the tree of power causing life and magic to flower. At least, according to an old Celtic and Druidic saying that she had come across during hours spent in the library.

Mr Ollivander acquired an odd look on his muttered "I wonder…" He disappeared into the rows of shelves and reappeared a moment later with another wand box in his hands.

"Rare combination - rowan and phoenix feather, eleven inches." He said while taking the top off the box to retrieve the wand within. "Be warned for when combined with phoenix feather, rowan wood wands are the power of fire incarnate." He held the wand in his fingers gingerly, cautiously.

Astraia took this new pale wand in her hands. She could feel a peculiar warmth rush through her body, like fire. She was so entranced by this feeling of warmth and the sense of being complete that she didn't notice the flaring lights or the sudden wind that rushed through the room and blew her hair away from her forehead, exposing her lightning bolt scar. Nor did she notice the magical glow in her green eyes.

"Curious. Very curious."

Astraia was startled out of her trance and slowly looked back up at Mr Ollivander.

"Pardon me, but what's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather. Just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Her scar? She had never thought about how she got her scar. As far as she knew, it had always been there.

"And who owned that wand?"

Mr Ollivander walked over to her and spoke quietly, forcing her to lean forward slightly so she could hear.

"Oh, we do not speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard Miss Potter. It is not always clear why. But I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

Ollivander leaned back, bringing his hand to his chin, and stared at her with a peculiar look in his eye. "Miss Potter, I believe I should make it clear that I cannot recall a single Dark witch or wizard who ever owned a rowan wand. Furthermore, I cannot recall a single instance where one of my own rowan wands has gone on to do evil in the world. Yes, I do believe we can expect great things from you."

Astraia wasn't quite sure what to think. She couldn't recall a time where someone had that much faith in her. She knew she wanted to ask more questions but suddenly there was a rapping on the window. It was Hagrid.

"Astraia, happy birthday!" In his hand was a cage containing a beautiful snowy white owl. Hagrid held the carrier up higher to make sure that she could see the owl.

After thanking Hagrid profusely for her birthday gift, they had adjourned back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.

"You alright, Astraia? You seem very quiet," Hagrid asked, seeming concerned.

Astraia hesitated for a moment. Her entire life, she had been told that her parents had died in an automobile accident. She couldn't remember their deaths. She'd had no other option than to accept the Dursley's story as truth, even though usually she knew better than that.

"He killed my parents, didn't he? The one who gave me this." She brought her hand to her forehead and brushed her hair aside to show her scar.

"You know Hagrid. I know you do." She could see it. Hagrid was looking down into his lap, avoiding her gaze, and his expression was somber.

Hagrid sighed and turned to her, pushing his food away in the process.

"First- and understand this, Astraia, this is very important. Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago there was a wizard who went as bad as you can go. His name was V-" Hagrid hesitated, taking a deep breath. "His name was V-" He hesitated again.

"Maybe if you wrote it down?" She offered, concerned. This was obviously causing him anxiety.

"No, I can't spell it," he declined. "Alright. Voldemort." For a moment, Hagrid looked terrified.

Voldemort. Astraia didn't say this out loud and waited for Hagrid to continue speaking.

"These were dark times, Astraia. Voldemort started to gather some followers and brought 'em over to the dark side. Anyone that stood up to him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him..."

As Astraia listened, she could see, in her mind, a flash of green light and she heard a high, cold, cruel laugh.

"...but nobody lived once he decided to kill him. Except you."

Her?

"Voldemort… tried to kill me?" She asked with a perplexed look on her face. She could think only 'Why me?'

Hagrid nodded. "Yes. That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead, Astraia. A mark like that only comes from a curse. And an evil curse at that."

Astraia hand almost flew to her forehead, but she just managed to hold herself back. Was her scar evil?

"What happened to… You-Know-Who?" She asked, recalling his anxiety about the name Voldemort.

A sigh. "Well, some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Nope, he's still out there, I reckon. Too tired to carry on. But, one thing is for certain. Something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous. That's why everyone knows your name. You're the Girl-Who-Lived."

Hagrid looked at Astraia with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Astraia only felt cold and confused. She grew quiet again after that. Hagrid left her to her thoughts, rightly assuming that she needed a little time to process.

Once their meal was finished, Hagrid took her back to the Dursleys where she was left to wait for the opportunity that she had been wishing for her entire life.

So I really wasn't sure about the scene with the Malfoys. I got halfway through it and then I had no idea where to take it. Do you guys have any thoughts on how I could improve it? Actually, constructive criticism of any kind is welcome. And I do mean constructive, please. Anyways, thanks for reading even though my updates are pretty erratic.