Chapter 1

When Elphaba opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the damp grass beneath her body. Grass! Damp grass. There had never been damp grass in her tower. Only stone.

Elphaba tried to remember where she had last been. Where she had been before everything had gone black before her eyes. Things came back to her. She had been in the tower in Kiamo Ko. Yet she was no longer in the castle. She was outside in a meadow. And this here, it was all so green - not emerald like in the Emerald City. Unlike the surroundings of Kiamo Ko, it wasn't gray and gloomy.

No, she was no longer in Kiamo Ko. Probably no longer in Oz either. But where was she? What was this place?

Elphaba could hardly think straight. Everything was so mixed up. Her thoughts were all mixed up. Her feelings threatened to overwhelm her.

And then her eyes fell on a castle not far away from her. What was this place? And who were the people who lived in the castle? A wizard perhaps? A king with his family?

Suddenly Elphaba heard a noise behind her. A HemHem, it was the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Slowly, she turned her head and her gaze slid upwards past a pair of pink shoes in pink stockings. Past a pink skirt.

And for a moment Elphaba thought that her friend Galinda, no, her name was Glinda now, was standing in front of her. But then she saw the person's face. The woman could almost be the twin sister of Madame Morrible.

A mixture of Glinda the Good and Madame Morrible. A cold shiver ran down Elphaba's spine at the sight. Not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Though she didn't have time to really think about it, because a moment later a figure in all black with a flowing cloak appeared behind this Glinda Morrible clone. Like an overgrown bat, thought Elphaba as her eyes fell on him.

"Where am I?" Elphaba looked at the overgrown bat questioningly.

"Hogwarts," he said after looking at Elphaba.

Elphaba looked around. Tried to remember if Hogwarts brought back a memory for her. Any memory. Had she been here once as a child?

"Hogwarts," she mumbled.

So she had been right, she was not in Oz anymore. And she was alone. Presumably. Elphaba tried to remember the last thing that had happened before she had woken up here in the meadow. She had been in Kiamo Ko. At the window. The storm had been getting closer and closer. Still, she hadn't noticed much of it. Her thoughts had revolved around so many things. About Fiyero. Her sins. Her desire to die. Elphaba remembered clutching the book that was still in her arms. That tears had run down her cheeks. And then, then there had been a bang. So what had happened? How did she get here? Had her desire to die brought her here? And if so, how?

"And who are you, dearest?" the Glinda-Morrible clone addressed Elphaba.

Yes, who was she? Was she still Elphaba? Hadn't Elphaba ceased to exist when she had defied the wizard? Wasn't she someone else by now? Elphaba hesitated only briefly before she stood up: "I am the Wicked Witch of the West."

Yes, she was the Wicked Witch. And no one else. She was someone to be feared. And so should this Glinda-Morrible clone. And everyone else.

"Take me to your wizard," Elphaba demanded.

"The headmaster is already expecting you," the bat said.

When Dumbledore had sent Snape outside to fetch the guest, Snape had not expected a green woman. This Wicked Witch, as she called herself. But apparently Dumbledore was expecting her. But why? Well, Dumbledore would know what he was doing. But then again, Severus wasn't sure if this woman could be trusted. Had the Dark Lord sent her, perhaps? No, Severus would have known if the Dark Lord had planned something like this, definitely.

Elphaba followed Snape into the castle. On her way to meet this Dumbledore, she looked around. She saw young people in school uniforms - this Hogwarts was obviously a school. Like Shiz. A school where the paintings moved around. Elphaba saw a man disappear from the frame of his portrait - appearing in one of the other paintings.

What kind of place was this Hogwarts? It was strange. Just like her. Maybe that was where she belonged. The place where she fit right in.

"Ah, our guest. Welcome my dear," said Dumbledore as Snape entered his office with Elphaba.

"So you are the wizard?" Elphaba looked at him questioningly.

"I am a wizard. Here at Hogwarts, we can all do magic."

"Hogwarts," Elphaba repeated the name again, always hoping that it would trigger a memory. But there was nothing. Hogwarts was completely unfamiliar to her.

"Yes, this is Hogwarts, this is where young witches and wizards are trained. And I am the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore."

Elphaba nodded. Still she didn't know what to say. She didn't even know how she had gotten here. And why. The last thing she knew was that she had tried desperately to save Fiyero. And that she had failed. So maybe this Dumbledore was the answer. Maybe she could save Fiyero with his help. Only for that Elphaba had to trust him. And something inside her stopped her from doing so. Some inner voice kept her from trusting this wizard. She had trusted once before and it had been a mistake. She didn't want to make a mistake again.

"This is Professor McGonagall," he introduced the woman on his left. Elphaba hadn't noticed her at first. She should be more observant, she scolded herself in her mind.

Professor McGonagall looked at Elphaba. And Elphaba felt a little like she was looking into a mirror when she looked at Professor McGonagall. A mirror that showed her older reflection. Somehow, anyway. You know, she had the same facial structures as Elphaba's. And the eyes – they looked like Elphaba's. So, was Elphaba related to this woman? No, she couldn't be. Elphaba would know if she had any more family. More family than her sister and her father - both of whom were dead by now. And now that she had lost Fiyero too, she had no one left. Elphaba was condemned to be alone.

"And who are you?" she then inquired and snapped Elphaba out of her thoughts.

"I am the Wicked Witch of the West."

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged glances for a moment. The Wicked Witch of the West. They had never heard of her. Neither of them had. Then again, they had never seen a green woman either.

"Well, but what should I call you? Misses Witch? Misses West?" Dumbledore now asked her a question.

"Thropp, Elphaba Thropp," she told him, that was still her name after all.

"Well Miss Thropp, welcome to Hogwarts. Be our guest. And I hope that Hogwarts brings the answers you so desperately seek," said Dumbledore, „Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it, Miss Thropp."

Elphaba looked at him questioningly. She hoped he would keep talking. For him to explain what he meant. And how he knew she was looking for answers. But Dumbledore turned to the man who had brought her here and said: "Severus, would you take our guest to her rooms. I believe that she is exhausted and wants to freshen up before joining us for dinner in the Great Hall."

„Her rooms?"

„Down in the dungeons, the guest quarters near the common room."

Severus nodded. Dumbledore had already plannes ahead. Had a room ready for Elphaba.

And Elphaba could only guess what else. But apparently this Dumbledore had a plan. A plan of what he wanted to do with Elphaba. What he wanted from her.

Elphaba could not have guessed what the weeks and months ahead of her would bring. And what surprises and adventures Hogwarts had in store for her.