Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The memories have been implanted successfully. 

The objective should be followed.

The obstacles are surmountable.

The time should be optimal.

She will adapt.

She will fulfill our goals.

“Gwuh?”

What the hell kind of dream was that? I had never been one to remember my dreams, so the fading voices in my head had thrown me for a loop. Something about a goal or whatever? Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to replay my dream but the last scraps of it had already scattered. Oh well.

With that little novelty out of the way, it was time to decide whether to get up now or stay asleep for another hour or four. Decision made, I swept my arm around for the blanket, grabbed hold, and pulled it over me. I started to get a hunch that I made the wrong choice when my blanket felt like it was made of thin plastic and tore open as I pulled, covering me in trash.

“What the heck!?” I thrashed around in surprise after rudely waking myself, and hit my head on the surprisingly low ceiling. Said ceiling flew open and let the light in, cutting my thrashing short. A crescent moon, as well as some dim lampposts, showed me that I was in a container half buried in trash behind some building. I was considering ignoring my situation and going back to sleep for five more minutes, but something going squish under my knee told me staying here was a bad idea.

Well, not necessarily that bad. It wouldn’t kill me or anything. I would just hate it, is all.

Pulling myself up, I swung myself out of a dumpster. I fell further than expected and landed on my back. I pushed myself up and looked around. Nothing looked familiar and no one was around.

Standing up, I walked around to get my bearings. I brushed some burger wrappers and french fries off my shoulders, helping me realize I was behind a fast food restaurant. Heading further down the road, I found a large river. There was London Bridge on my right and I recognized the Tower of London on my left. The river was probably the Thames so I guess I ended up in London somehow? A little worrisome considering I’ve never been there, but at least I knew where I was.

As I kept walking, I noticed everything around me felt way bigger than expected. The trees were enormous and the door handles were closer to eye level than I found comfortable. Walking to a park bench, I could rest my chin comfortably on its back. I don’t remember that being a normal thing I could do.

“What the heck happened to me last night?” I asked aloud, with a cute, squeaky voice. A pit of worry grew in my stomach. Everything was weirdly big, and I had never heard the voice that just came out of my mouth before. I groaned and rubbed my face with my hands. My tiny, dainty hands. Why am I wearing silk gloves?

Looking over myself, I was also wearing a fancy jacket and a skirt with stockings, nothing I remembered putting on. Reaching above my head I also find the round brim of a hat. I shuffled in place uncomfortably, starting to get a little sense of what was going on. I took off at a sprint, aiming for the nearest public restroom I knew of.

I go back to the restaurant and run inside, ignoring the cashier. Rushing into the restroom, I park myself in front of the sink. Like everything else the sink is too high, but I didn’t pay attention to that. When I looked at the mirror I confirmed what I was scared of. The world was not too big, it was me that was too small. There is a little girl with bright blue eyes and long, brown hair, looking to be around late elementary school age. Her face is pale with worry and for whatever reason, there is a top hat perched up on her head.

I blink and the girl does the same. She copies me when I wave my arms around. I try pinching my cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but I do feel a dull sensation of my face being pulled.

Turning around, I enter a stall then sit on the toilet to put my head in my hands. “What the flip.” I am a little, elementary aged girl alone at night in the middle of a foreign country. I’m not sure of my exact age, but I’m definitely on the small side. Sitting on the toilet, my shoes don't comfortably sit flat on the ground. Any random person on the street can just pick me up and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it 

The pit in my stomach grows heavier. My eyes dart to the corners of the stall, looking for hidden cameras. Could this all be faked? I couldn’t see anything recording me. Quickly, I slam the stall door shut and lock it. I pull my feet up onto the toilet, paranoia creeping in. I don't know what happened, if someone did this to me or has been stalking me this whole time or if this was a catch and release thing. The possibility that I'm being followed makes my breathing speed up.

Maybe I'm dreaming? I hit my head pretty hard in that dumpster but I don't really remember feeling any pain? My cheeks don’t hurt either. I can still feel things just fine, and I don’t wanna try any harder to hurt myself. 

I remember reading somewhere that you're not able to read in your dreams. Maybe I could try that?

I start patting my jacket looking for pockets to take inventory and find some on the interior. Reaching into the right interior pocket of my jacket, I pull out a stick. It looks to be made out of plastic, around under a foot long. Nice and cylindrical, it's black with white caps on both ends. Seems more like a cheap prop than anything useful. Not something I'd be able to use for food and shelter. 

In my left pocket, I found a folded piece of paper. It is thick, official looking paper with a texture that screams high quality. There’s a wax seal, keeping the letter neatly folded. The seal catches in the light and I can see a crest I swore I’ve seen before. I hesitated for a moment, worried this would confirm I’m not dreaming. I break the seal and read what is in it.

For a moment, relief washes over me. I can’t read what's written down. This must be a dream. Alas, after a second my brain catches up. Somehow, the scribbles on the page became legible and I found myself suddenly able to read the letter.

What I read changed everything. I really didn’t want this to be just a dream anymore.

Hogwarts School

of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Advena,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

“Holy smokes.”

I put the letter down and took the time to stare into space. It couldn't be real, could it? I looked at the paper again, inspecting it for anything out of place. Maybe the text looked a biiiiit printed? I couldn't tell in the fluorescent bathroom light. The school crest on the paper looked just like I remembered seeing it in various media.

Maybe one can read in dreams?

Slipping the stick (my wand?) back into my pocket, I went back to the sink. You had to be eleven to get that letter, right? I must suddenly be an eleven year old little girl in London, so why couldn't magic be real? It has to be, right? How would anyone go about faking what I was looking at now?

With a lot of work, and a giant stage set, maybe.

Thinking irrationally, I lifted the mirror off the wall a bit to look behind it. Yup. Definitely a mirror and not a monitor. Flatscreens aren’t a thing in the 90s yet, are they? Not that I’m really in the 90s. They'd probably have needed some tracking software so a fake mirror would track my movements and copy them to that little girl on the screen in real time. Maybe there was a free version online somewhere? Why does that sound more insane than time travel and secret magic!?

I pulled out the letter once more and looked at the signatures. Yup, Dumbledore is still headmaster. They wouldn't let a dead guy run the school, would they? I am in the 90s. Flung decades into the past. The magical past. Where Harry Potter is real. Probably. Hopefully?

While the page was open, I noted the date again. Reply by the 31st, huh. While the pit in my stomach had been forgotten with the news of maybe magic, a hint of worry started crawling back up my spine. I left the restroom and headed towards the front.

In the corner of the room, sitting on a stand hanging from the ceiling, was a big, bulky, CRT TV. There seemed to be some late night news playing right now. I paid attention to see if I could get a hint of what was going on, see if they mention a date, but something was wrong with the audio. The newscasters were moving their mouths, but all that was coming out of the TV were some warbling sounds. Before I could ask the cashier to see if he could fix it or change the channel, the audio went out. There was a split second of silence before I could hear some static that faded pretty quickly. Whatever happened fixed the TV and I could hear what turned out to be celebrity gossip in plain English.

Not that it helped me any, it was just gossip. Something about a duchess and a Texan? Sounded scandalous, but I didn't really care and it didn't tell me anything about when it was so I went to just ask the cashier.

The cashier was a teenage boy that was just standing there. He was staring into space with a vacant look in his eyes. He didn’t look like he would be part of a conspiracy to hunt me down for whatever nefarious reason, he looked like just another guy going through the hell that is the service industry.

As I was now, he towered over me and thus didn't notice when I walked up. I waved at him, but he kept staring into the distance, the vacant look in his eyes too powerful for motion to break. “Uh, excuse me.” I glanced at his name tag, “Jeff?”

“Wu-huh?” He started coughing after he took a phlegmy breath and swallowed his spit into his lungs. Wow, he was out of it. I stood patiently as the teen in front of me killed himself with his own breath. Eventually he recovered and took a much deserved breath. He turned to look at me. “Oh, hey! You're a magician!”

“I'm a what?” I couldn't have blown my identity as a possible witch that fast, could I? I was supposed to keep it a secret or something! There were rules supposedly! With all the reeling from the past few life altering news I got back to back, I ended up being too focused on the being a little girl part to see if I passed as a muggle.

Though looking back on it, the age thing did do a lot to distract me in the mirror from noting that my jacket was a fancy tuxedo jacket with a crisp button up shirt, bowtie, and top hat to tie it all together. I did look kinda like a little girl ready to go trick or treating as a stage magician. The boy was still waiting for a reply. “I mean, yeah, sure.” Kinda?

“How can I help you, little lady?” Should I try to fake a British accent from now on? Everyone else is likely to speak it. “What would you like to order?”

“Oh, I'm not hungry right now,” I Britishly say. Not just because I'm not actually hungry, but because looking through my pockets I didn't find any money. Worrisome, but if I could make my way to that school I should have food and shelter covered until next year. “I wanted to ask what the date was? I forgot.”

He scratched his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. “Uh, it's the 30th, I think. August.”

Oh damn, that doesn't leave me much time. I have to find myself an owl. “Thank you, my good sir!” I waved goodbye and ran out the door, not stopping when I heard the boy call back to me to hold on. Probably worried about how I'm unsupervised. I shift into a sprint. I would not let Child Protection Services stop me!

I run deeper into London ready to hunt down some wizards. I make it a good way into the streets before I slow down. Stopping next to a bus stop, I inspect the map and look for important locations. I also ponder my next steps and plan ahead.

The entire time, I was holding my letter. Had I had a pen, I would probably have used it to write some instructions or directions, but luckily I had a great memory. I look at the map and take a mental picture. I do the same thing with my letter.

I could picture the letter in my head, every word, and it brought me a hint of joy every time I reread it. Though there was a part that stuck out to me.

Ms. Advena.

Is that my name now?

I flip the letter over to read the outside. There’s the Hogwarts crest up top, and the wax seal on the bottom. In between them, there is a name written in ink.

Ms. Stella Advena.

The Skip Behind the Restaurant.

Near London Bridge and the Tower of London

London, England

Address is weird. Skip? Is that English-English for a dumpster? How'd the letter find me there? Heck, how did I find myself there? Who am I even, actually? Well at least  this body has a name it looks like. Stella Advena. That's a pretty cool name, I like it. Cool name, little girl that I currently am. 

The lighting from a lamppost gave me a good enough reflection of the 11 year British(?) girl. I met her and I couldn't help but wonder what would happen next.

The thought of learning magic excited me, but I should probably consider what I'm getting into more closely. Some messed up stuff happens in the books after all. Not to mention I've no idea what I'll be doing there at all. Should I just coast by and enjoy myself? Maybe I should just get out of Dodge, go learn magic in France or something. 

Something in me hated the idea. Like a voice I'm my head telling me that I need to go to Hogwarts no matter what.

Like I have some goals to fulfill.

My reflection furrows her brows as I ask myself, Who are you, Stella?

Chapter Text

If it were daytime I would probably enjoy the sights more, see if there were any places I could recognize from TV and movies. If I didn’t need to find the entrance to the wonderful world of witchcraft and wizardry in a hurry, I would probably slow down and see if I could find Abbey Road or Buckingham Palace.

Alas, needs must. Maybe I could spend the next day sightseeing depending on how things turned out?

Though with how long it took to get there while avoiding the nightlife up and about, I may as well have taken the time to be a tourist. For all the good trying to rush to Charing Cross did, having to run from concerned adults asking me where my parents were was getting frustrating. I’d probably draw less attention without the hat, but I didn’t want to ditch it. All the black I wore did help to blend into the shadows, otherwise it probably would have taken longer to get there. I was like a ritzy ninja. Oooh, or a phantom thief!

I made it to Trafalgar Square at last, thinking all the while about adding a cape to my outfit. Something to swoooosh while I ran away. I then spent another hour walking up north and back down the road, looking for the right pub. If I were really a witch, then I should be able to find my way to the magic shops I needed. I was having trouble finding it, though. Maybe it was in an alley somewhere? I found a Blockbuster, though. Surprising what little things counted as evidence of time travel.

After my third lap without finding anything I was beginning to worry that magic wasn’t actually real. Maybe I was just a delusional girl with too much imagination and made up visions of the future.

Suddenly, my vision left me. I went blind for a solid second. It was so sudden, I didn't have time for my shock to turn to worry before my vision started coming back. The sudden blackness started to fade into a staticy snow. It slowly started fading from my sight and my eyes were drawn between a bookstore and a record shop. I couldn’t see anything special at first, on account of the static, until enough of the snow faded to reveal a small, dirty looking pub.

I felt an immense relief when I saw the Leaky Cauldron. Must’ve taken my magic a while to calibrate, or something. I honestly have no idea what I would have done next if I could never find it.

Taking a deep breath, I walked inside.

It looked about as old as expected from the oldest pub in London. The walls and the furnishings looked like they had a history to tell. More interesting were the hints of magic scattered about. Worn yet sturdy in most places. Some places not so sturdy, but magic was probably compensating. Some copies of the Daily Prophet were lying around, and walking past them I could peek at some moving pictures. My brain was screaming LCD screens. I ignored it.

The menu looked to have some interesting drinks as well, like Butterbeer and other wizardly sounding beverages. Some dishes too, but I didn’t know if Pickled Eel was a Wizard thing or a British thing. Everything costs sickles and galleons, though. My brain started screaming that I could find the same in Orlando, Florida, but I screamed back that we were clearly in London. It could still be a fan’s pop up restaurant, with plenty of props but I told myself that it was not. My brain was going to have to accept that this was real, otherwise how the hell could I have walked by a Blockbuster?

I walked up to the bat and hopped up to take a seat. “Excuse me, sir,” I called, making sure to keep the accent. The bartender, an older, bald gentleman, turned to look at me. “Can you help me?” I ask, “Please.”

The Bartender's eyebrow lifts up at the sight of me. “Isn’t it a bit early to be up and about? Little ones like you are usually still tucked up in bed right now” He looks around, “And without your parents, no less?”

Again with the concern with a lost child’s well being. How annoyingly charitable of the world. “Oh, my parents totally know I am here. Just took a quick stop to use the loo and ask a question.”

“Really now?” he said, looking at me like I was the liar I was. “If the question is what I think it is, then no. I won’t sell alcohol to a minor.”

“Aw, c’mon, I thought wizards were cool about this!” I complained. Was there an age rating for butterbeer? Didn’t students drink that? Maybe there wasn’t alcohol in it? I was pretty sure I had a memory of an elf drunk on Butterbeer. “But actually, no. I have no money to buy beer with, and I need help with that!”

“Dressed like that?” He asked, nodding at my fancy magician clothing. “Likely story. You wouldn't get any even if you had coin.”

I fidgeted with the brim of my hat, annoyed at the direction of this conversation. “You don't need to believe that I'm destitute, doesn't look like I will be a customer here for several years sadly. I still can't buy stuff though I need to though,” I said, taking out my Hogwarts letter and laying it on the table.

The bartender’s eyebrow rose. “Hogwarts, eh? You’re cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

“This was a little sudden,” I replied. No matter how much I checked my pockets, I couldn't find any money. So the plan was to figure out how to buy my stuff for the year today, then maybe do a little shopping tomorrow. Maybe fit in some research while I was at it. I could ask around during the day, see if I can figure anything out about this mysterious Stella Advena that I am. Still need to figure out how to do that without getting thrown into the care of some random couple though. Also plan around what I'll do in my first year of Magic School. If my hunch is correct, I'll probably need to think up ways to stop a troll and solve some challenges to get to a certain stone. But before all that, I need money! “I should have just enough time I think, but don’t have the cash. I think I heard something about a fund for students in financial trouble?”

“Probably best ask about that over at Gringotts,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the back of the store. I looked back there and saw a passageway to a small courtyard. Must be the entrance. “Sun's coming up, so the shops should be opening soon. It shouldn’t be too long a wait.”

“Thanks, mister!” I said, getting all the info I needed. I hopped off the barstool and headed towards the back, ending the talk in a rush to avoid any more uncomfortable questions.

“And stay with your parents!” he calls after me before I can fully leave earshot.

My shoes clicked on the ground as I exited the Leaky Cauldron. I entered the small courtyard and walked towards the wall. Digging through my memories, I try to remember the way to open the wall. How did the groundskeeper open it again? “Three up, two across,” I mutter to myself.

Focusing on a specific brick, I pulled out my magician’s wand. Maybe I need a real wand and not a toy one? Maybe this is a real wand? Maybe I don’t need a real wand to do this and a regular stick will do? Best way to find out was by giving it a shot, so I take my wand and tap three times.

Nothing happens for a second. I consider going back inside and asking for help, but I did leave pretty abruptly. It would be a bit embarrassing. The brick thankfully starts to wiggle and slide out of the way. The surrounding bricks follow its lead. Soon enough, a hole grew in the wall, large enough for me to go through. Just in time to give me the best view I have ever seen.

The sun was starting to peek out over the shops.

Wizards and witches were coming out of the woodwork.

Doors and windows were beginning to open.

And a small smile appeared on my face.

A bubbly feeling was welling up inside me. Slowly walking forward, I spun on my heels every other step, trying to take in all the sights. There were cauldrons and broomsticks and robes and owls! “I’m in!” I squeal to myself, my smile growing into a wide grin. Gripping my prop wand with both hands, I start hopping in place, giggling to myself.

I started running down the road full of energy, going from storefront to storefront and looking through all the windows. Up ahead I saw a wizard wave their wand and say “Wingardium Leviosa,” and the crate began to hover in the air. I didn’t stop running, laughing as I ran under the floating crate. “Hey!” The wizard yelled but I didn’t care because all my doubts were gone.

There was still a part of my brain that had lingering thoughts of props and led screens masking as paintings, but it was the quietest it had ever been. Looking behind me, there was nothing over that crate for invisible wires to hang it from. Magic is real! I was in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and not the one in Florida!

My heart was so happy.

I slammed into a window, squishing my face as I looked inside. There were rows upon rows of tubs of ice cream, with many flavors I had never heard of. There was a man waving a wand over the tubs. He looked up from his work and gave me a wave. I waved back then backed away. I wanted some, so badly. But I had to get some finances taken care of first. I kept Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor in mind for a future visit, committing the storefront to memory.

First stop, Gringotts. I have some money to beg for!

Chapter Text

I looked up at the marvelous marble building. Towering above the rest of Diagon Alley, Gringotts itself just screamed wealth and influence. I held the letter in my pocket, crossing my fingers that it would be enough to make a withdrawal. God forbid a child open their own bank account without an adult present.

Puffing my chest out and exuding an aura of real, genuine confidence, I took a step towards the entrance before backing off and heading to the front window of Flourish and Blotts. I straightened my top hat, adjusted my tuxedo jacket, and made sure the bow tie I was wearing wasn't undone. A deep breath in and out, and I walked up to the bronze doors of Gringotts, giving the goblin guard a nod before walking in. I then walked through a set of silver doors, and repeated the nods towards the goblins guarding those doors. Like the guard outside the bronze doors, these also scrunched their noses at me. Rude.

I was wondering if there would be a long hallway of doors made of increasingly expensive materials, but from the looks of things they settled on silver and called it a day. Rather, they used all that hall space to install some incredibly long counters, manned by a small army of goblins.

Some of them were speaking with witches and wizards. Money changed hands and others were led through back doors where some mine carts launched themselves into the abyss. The noises brought to mind roller coasters and if I didn’t need the money I would want to open an account just for that. Some of the other goblins were playing with coins and scales and writing the results down on parchment with quills. Bank stuff.

A few looked up at me entering before going back to their work, though some of the ones closer to the entrance kept their eye on me. I guessed that it made sense, what with banks needing the security. Don’t know why they weren't also looking at everyone else, though. Could they sense the poverty wafting off of me? Honestly, the staring was beginning to take the wind out of my sails.

Spoiled for choice when it came to picking goblins, I was rooted in place by indecision and a sudden bout of anxiety. “Uuuuh,” I had no idea what to do. A witch and wizard passed me by. From the looks on their faces they probably didn't want anything to do with me.

“You gonna just stand there, girly?”

“Eep!” I jumped. There was another goblin guarding the door from the inside, it turned out. I took a moment to calm myself down. “Uh, do I take a number or…”

“Just walk up to the counter. Talk to any of them, just don’t interrupt any dealings.” His head turned back towards the empty space he was looking at, but I sensed he was still watching from the corner of his eye.

“... Thanks.”

It looked like one of the goblins was finishing up, one further to the back. Better yet, the goblins around him weren’t attending to any witch or wizard. The less witnesses to any possible faux pas I make the better!

I approached and said, “Hello.” The goblin stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. His eyes were scanning me up and down, a curious glint appearing in them as he focused harder. All these eyes were starting to get to me. I nervously played with my gloves while the goblin steepled his fingers, waiting for me to speak first. “Uh, um, I need some money…”

“Were you sent to withdraw from a vault? Or perhaps there’s a need for a loan?” He asked, maintaining eye contact all the while.

“N-no,” I said. I had no idea why this place was unsettling me as much as it was, I felt like I was losing control of my tongue. “I’ve got th-this,” I said, pulling out my acceptance letter to Hogwarts. “Though I can't pay for the,” a gulp, “for the supplies without some money. I heard Hogwarts has a, uh, fund to help with that?”

A quirk of his eyebrow. "Really now? Your attire doesn’t exactly scream pauper, does it?" he sniffs the air, then grimaces, "Though, your smell does give you away, doesn’t it?"

Oh God , I think, mortified. All this time running around and I forgot that I needed to go jump in a tub to get this dumpster stench off. “So yeah, um, how much would the Hogwarts fund be? Do I get some money or do I just tell the shopkeepers that the fund will take care of it?”

"Some galleons are withdrawn from the Hogwarts vault for those facing financial difficulty, separate from the main vault. The amount should be enough to help with a family's income and buy supplies, but if one’s careful with their spending, it should cover everything for the year," he explained. That sounded exactly like what I needed. I was starting to feel hopeful about how the rest of my day would go, but then his stare intensified. "However, the funds are strictly for actual students of the school."

“Wha- actual students?” a small drop of dread starts pooling within me.

"Indeed. The funds are only for witches and wizards attending Hogwarts. You are neither."

Oh no, am I a muggle? I thought to myself. I had a letter on me, as well as a wand. I could have been making an assumption about my place in this world. No, that can't be right. Muggles weren’t able to find and enter the Leaky Cauldron on their own, after all. Not to mention my knowledge of the Wizarding World. There was no way I was a normal girl! “But the letter! Isn't it mine? Doesn't that make me a witch?”

The goblin put on some spectacles and examined the letter. “This is indeed a Hogwarts letter, and for all I know you may very well believe Stella Advena is your name,” he put the letter down. "But with my sharp eyes, it is obvious to me,” he leans forward on the counter and stares deeper into me, as if he can see within me. “You are clearly not a witch."

“H-how can you be sure you're right?” I retorted. He said I'm not a witch, but he hasn't done anything to prove otherwise. No wands waved or blood drawn or anything. I had to have some magic in me, I just had to! “Maybe you're just wrong?”

My doubt in his abilities seems to have annoyed him. Sensing an opening, I was about to press on, but he spoke up before me, "I can assure you, I am most certainly not mistaken. Any goblin can see as plain as day what you are. Though I must commend your master, you are well-built enough to deceive just about any human."

What.

“What.”

“Yes, your joints are fully articulate and your skin has the right texture. If I were to shake your hand I am sure I would feel an appropriate amount of warmth. But there are things that give you away. We goblins are proud metalsmiths, we recognize good work when we see it,” he was still staring at me, “I can tell that your doll body is made of fine material. If your master truly needs the money we have saved for our Hogwarts clients, he needn't bother to send a construct. Selling you would suffice.”

My whole body felt as if it had been dunked in ice.  “S-sell me!?”

“Why yes. Your limbs alone would be worth a small fortune.”

“But I'm not-” My head swiveled to the sides, seeing if anyone else was also hearing this nonsense. There were no wizards nearby thankfully, but just about every nearby goblin was looking at me. Had they been looking at me the whole time?

A strong shiver went through my body. I suddenly recognized something about those stares. They looked hungry.

I couldn’t feel myself breathe, a sudden panic overtaking me. “N-no!” I turned and ran for the exit as fast as I could. I ran like I was being hunted by a pack of wolves, but no one followed. I still didn't slow down, running past the silver door and then the bronze one.

I still didn’t stop as I left the bank, my feet landed on nothing but air as I reached the steps. My foot didn’t land exactly on the step, and I suddenly lost my balance and tripped, falling face first into the road outside the building. After my face skidded for a few inches, I held my hand to my cheek to stem the hurt. It didn’t take me long to notice that I didn't feel any pain. I should have at least felt a scratch.

Wizards were stopping, their attention drawn to me. Panic rising, I kept my hand glued to my cheek. What if I did have a scratch? What if the fall tore my face open and I couldn’t feel it? What if I removed my hand in front of everyone to reveal…

A frantic, three-limbed crawl turned into a full sprint as I dashed into the nearest store. Ignoring the counter and the shopkeep welcoming me in, I ran to the back and entered the restroom. I ducked my head low to look under the stall doors and found myself all alone.

I put myself in front of the sink. It hadn't even been a day and I was panicking in front of a mirror again.

For a while, I consider just spending the rest of my life with my head in my hand. Just always looking like I was pondering something.  It wouldn't be possible, sadly, so I decided to get it over with and removed my hand.

My face was perfectly fine.

I looked at it, no pain at all. No bruise was forming, no scratches or cuts, nothing. It was like I hadn’t skated on the cobblestone outside with my face.

I can still show my face in public, but the lack of pain still kept me concerned. I pinched my cheek. Twisted it. Pressed harder. Nothing. Biting down hard on my knuckle gave me nothing either. I could still feel that I was biting myself. There was a sharp, piercing pressure building on my hand, but the actual pain didn’t come.

I had been running around all night too, yet I didn’t feel tired. I stunk, but that was because of the dumpster behind the restaurant, it didn’t look like I had sweat at all. I still wasn’t hungry or thirsty either.

I looked down at my gloved hands. I have been wearing them this entire time.The thought of removing them was beginning to scare me. I could imagine taking off my gloves and finding intricate, clockwork doll hands. Or maybe robotic, Terminator hands.

Slowly, I started slipping the gloves off finger by finger. I had used up just about all of my remaining nerve taking my hand off my face, I was going to take my time with this. I kept my eyes to the ceiling as I felt the silky texture slide off. Both gloves in hand, I looked back down. Some of my stress left with a sigh. I flexed my normal, fleshy hands and their well manicured nails.

I giggled in relief. So what if goblins doubt my humanity? Maybe I’m just a borderline squib and the goblins couldn’t see my magic right? Is that a thing they can do? Probably not but whatever, it must have been my magic that protected me and made the goblins see me funny. And I could blame my lack of fatigue and hunger on my youthful energy. So there, the goblins don’t know what they’re talking about!

That still left the problem of me being poor and needing to buy stuff. I was bound to get hungry eventually. It was still early enough in the morning that the day hadn't really started yet. Maybe I could take a gig, earn some money, and spend the afternoon buying what I need? I used the mirror to smooth out the wrinkles in my clothes. Gloves back on, I started adjusting my hair and took my hat off.

I stared at my hatless head in the mirror.

I had horns, it looked like.

Only they weren't quite horns. Looking closely, they were not horns at all. They were a silvery chrome and ramrod straight. The ends were tipped with small metallic balls and if I focused I could point them in all different directions, but made little whizzing noises when I moved them around. Not only that, they telescoped in and out, gaining and losing length at my will. They had a default position they seemed to be comfortable at, one that my hat could thankfully hide and look natural doing so.

I swallowed hard. Slowly, I tried to push one down. It sprung back up with a soft whizz. The other twitched as if sensing my fear.

I had old, vintage, rabbit ear TV antennas. Stuck to the top of my head.

My probably not a human head.

I took my first breath since Gringotts.

“Uuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"

Chapter Text

My fingers rubbed at my temples, eyes squeezed shut. I didn't have a headache, but it was something that was helping me feel grounded. Help me pretend that I hadn't just found out that I had a TV somewhere up my family tree.

I open my eyes and the antenna are still there in my head. I carefully bring a hand up to one of them and give it a flick. The sensation was weird as hell. I could feel the vibrations going down into my skull! It didn’t hurt or anything but it was… ugh!

Grumbling, I grasp the antenna to stop the vibration. While I’m at it I gently tug at it. Still no pain, but with a hard enough tug my eyes and ears start to feel a static fuzz. Whatever’s going on with my head, these are probably important enough that I don’t want to rip them out.

What am I going to do about going out in public, though? I worry.

Gently, I will the antenna to retract into themselves. They go down a fair bit, but they still poke out a bit from my head. I fluff up my hair, and it is enough to keep them from being too obvious. It would work for a bit if no one is actively looking at me, but they would be obvious under scrutiny. I could claim they were hair clips, or maybe style my hair into buns, but there was also the discomfort that was building from keeping them down too long.

They jumped back up to their full length, and it felt like I unclenched a muscle. I rub my eyes. Uuugh, what the hell? I would have probably welcomed a headache right now. The absence of one wasn't actually helping.

I drummed my fingers on the crown of my top hat. I could probably find more options in headware to hide my antenna, but I had quickly grown fond of the hat. I would probably stick with it for a while.

That would have worked for me short term, but long term what the hell was I supposed to do with this information!? I had assumed I was a witch, and to say I was disappointed to be told I was not was an understatement! I had to be magical somehow, though. There was a letter to Hogwarts in my pocket when I woke up!

Wait, where is my letter?

I dig around my jacket and find no paper. The stupid skirt I was wearing had no pockets. I pick up the hat to look inside it, but there’s no letter to pull out of the hat. I place the hat back down on the sink and groan into my hands. I left the letter back at the bank.

I could probably walk back in and ask for it back, but on the other hand, hell no! I was not walking into that bank again if I could help it!

At least I could still picture the letter in my head like I did before. I just wished I had read what the school supplies were supposed to be before I went to the bank to ask for money. I would have to go through the memories I had of the first book. Shouldn’t be too hard, I had a good memory.

That was assuming I was even let inside the school to start with. I may not be a witch according to those goblins. Where do they get off calling a girl they don’t know a doll? They don’t even know me! But neither do the professors at school.

I pull up the wand I had almost forgotten I had in my panic from Gringotts. It probably still would have slipped my mind if I hadn’t checked my pockets for the letter. Could I even cast spells with this? It didn’t look like wood. It still looked like cheap plastic.

I gave it a wave and said, “Lumos!” Nothing happened.

I gave a disappointed sigh and took a closer look at it. Upon closer inspection, there was a weird shine to it. I tapped it against the faucet and heard a metallic ting echo in the restroom. On a whim I chewed on it softly with my teeth. Definitely not wood, but not plastic either. It had a metallic taste to it, so it was probably some sort of lightweight metal.

I played around with the white caps on the ends to see if there was anything to them as well. I gave one of the ends a twist and felt a zap in my hand. My antenna suddenly stood ramrod straight.

BOOT UP: magic.exe

DOWNLOADING

INSTALLING LATEST DRIVERS

What the hell? A string of words filled my vision, scrolling too fast for me to read. The wand glowed a bright blue and I thought I heard the sounds of a small fan whirring away.

UPDATE COMPLETE

My vision returned to normal, and I heard a little boot-up sound as the wand went back to looking like cheap plastic. I stood there stunned for a second. That was not a wizardly boot-up sound.

“Do I… do I have an operating system?” I said aloud to myself. This didn’t feel magical…

I wiggled the wand and the tip lit up, along with my spirits. A wiggle and it turned off. On, off, on, off. After a few tries, I started saying “Lumos!” and “Nox!” while I did this. It wasn’t necessary and made me feel a bit like I was larping in a bathroom but it was doing a massive job cheering me up.

Leaving the hat on the sink, I back up and point at it, trying out a different spell. “Wingardium Leviosa!” I say, being careful with the wand movement and the pronunciation that I remembered from the books and movies.

My wand lit up again. I frowned. A light wasn’t all I had access to, was it? Shouldn’t I have more spells?

In the corner of my vision, a word popped up. Light. The word stayed there in my vision like a setting on a heads up display. I focused on the word and like there was a switch in my mind I made it change. Projection.

This time, when I wiggled my wand, an image appeared on the wall. My Hogwarts letter, exactly as I was picturing it in my head earlier. Huh.

I cycled through the wand options I had to see what I had to work with.

Move

Scan

Blast

Freeze Ray

Heat Ray

Death Ray

Concussive Wave

Wait, what was that last one? Did that say death ray?

I went back on the option and yep. There it was. Huuuuuh…

On one hand, an eleven year old girl should not be given access to a death ray. Maybe it does something else than what I am thinking, but I doubt I will ever want to test that out to see if I am right. On the other hand, I also sorta want to? Having something called a death ray does sound pretty cool.

I cycle past that option in case I accidentally pull the trigger on it. Barring the death ray, I would have to try out some of these options. I had some tools to use, even if it felt like I was dropped into the wrong genre.

I was coming to the conclusion that this was actually not a magic wand at all, but rather a sci-fi wand. One that had a bluetooth connection to my brain. At least, I hoped it was a brain.

Don’t think about it.

I didn’t have any official records on me, and from what I learned about myself this past half hour there were probably no parents looking for a lost little girl named Stella, thankfully enough. Maybe a creator or a master, but I was not too gung ho about wanting to meet up with them after what the goblins said about myself being an expensive commodity.

I was too young apparently to get a job and earn some money, but there was a way I could get some free room and board. I just had to find a way to sneak onto the Hogwarts Express is all. I didn’t have the letter with me, but someone still made it. That should mean that during the Start-of-Term feast the name Stella Advena should be called by the sorting hat.

So I was probably not magic…

But I could probably fake it?

I can probably get away with hiding out there for a good while. Maybe I would get caught? Maybe I could get expelled? Or worse, disassembled for magical science under uncaring wizards at the Department of Mysteries.

But hey, maybe I could pull it off?

So that was the plan then.

The restroom door started opening and my heart jumped up to my throat. I dove for my hat and threw it back on my hat, my antenna shifting so I could do so as fast as possible.

I turned to look at the wizard that had just walked in and saw his eyes widen in panic. The wizard. Not the witch. He quickly looked to the side and I could see his panic fade to relief. I turned to see what he was looking at. It was a set of urinals on the wall next to the stalls.

“Um, ah, oops?” I scrambled to get up. From what I could see in the mirror, I was apparently human enough that my face was able to get a nice shade of red. “Sorry,” I said and rushed out. Doll or not, I could still feel embarrassment as well as any other witch or wizard. Uuuaaahhh…

Chapter Text

Walking out of the restroom into a cool room, I found out that I had run into the ice cream shop I was eyeing earlier. Mr. Fortescue‘s Ice Cream Parlor.

Enrolling into Hogwarts is all well and good, but it would be harder without school supplies. The goblins didn't think I was real though for money, so I would have to scrounge up some coin elsewhere. Might as well start job hunting.

Walking to the front, I looked at the various flavors they had on display. The counter was low enough for kids to pick and choose. Peanut butter and strawberry ice cream was amongst the more mundane flavors available. Some of the ice cream gave out gentle glows, while others looked like they were made out of cake. One tub’s contents kept changing color, shifting from flavor to flavor.

I hoped my lack of hunger didn’t mean I had a lack of taste buds, so many of these flavors looked so good. I only had to wait in line for a minute before it was my turn at the front.

“Hello, little miss! See anything you fancy?” The man at the counter looked welcoming. I was tempted to ask what flavor he would recommend, eyeing a tub with dancing sprinkles in it, but not having the cash to buy them I didn’t bother. I tore my eyes away from the sweets and focused on making a good first impression.

I stood up straight, clicked my heels, and tried to project as much confidence as I could,  “Hello, yes! I was hoping I could have a job for a bit?”

That threw him for a loop, “A job? Aren’t you a bit young for that?”

I would have to look into wizarding child labor laws. I knew I wouldn’t be able to land a job in muggle London as I was, but I was hoping they wouldn’t be as strict about work ages in Diagon Alley. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” I said.

I considered lying about my age for a bit. Could a thirteen year old work in an ice cream shop? It probably wouldn’t have worked, though. I remember what I looked like in the mirror, no way he would buy it. I would have to go with a different angle.

“And you are probably right! However, what if I just walk around and wipe tables for no reason?” I say, gesturing to the lobby. “And then at the end of the day you can take pity on some dapperly dressed destitute damsel and gift her with funds for the premier magical school of this nation? What would you say to that?”

“I would say that you could get some proper funds from the goblins at Gringotts,” he said. "Is there a reason you're not going down that route?"

“Um, yes there is!” I say. He looked at me like he’s expecting me to elaborate. I maintain eye contact, trying to think of an excuse. Rather than do so, I back away from the counter when I hear the bell at the entrance ring. “Gonna get to work now!” I sang. He looked like he wanted to press further, but a sudden string of customers stopped him. I hope my gamble pays off and that if I work hard enough he feels like he has no choice but to pay me.

With the owner sufficiently distracted and unable to resist my help, I look around the shop’s lobby. A decent amount of tables all around, with a few occupied by customers. It was early enough that there weren’t that many messes yet. I walk around to see what I can find.

My eyes suddenly zoomed in on a table near the corner. A stain was suddenly highlighted in red, standing out in my vision. Not having expected this, I bump into a chair drawing some eyes towards me. I play it off, pretending it never happened. I totally meant to bump into that chair, don’t you see me adjusting it and putting it back under the table? The people in line go back to deciding what kind of ice cream they want today.

I look around for something to clean with. I was worried that all the cleaning would have to be done with a wand. Maybe I have a setting for that, but I would prefer testing it in private in case it shoots out streams of bubbly water.

Making do with what I have, I take several napkins from a holder and head back to the restroom to moisten them up. Going from table to table, I wiped any mess I could find. My built-in mess detectors helped, highlighting the smallest drop of ice cream from across the room. I was at it for quite a while.

The morning rush of people having ice cream for breakfast lasted a while. Magic sure is wonderful to be able to make ice cream a good part of a balanced breakfast. Eventually the rush slowed and the store owner approached me. “You’ve been hard at work for the past hour,” he complimented.

“Of my own free will, of course! I am most definitely not employed by you!” I winked at him. My endearing act seemed to work, as he gave a chuckle.

“Well, I still haven’t learned my little helper’s name,” he says, reaching out a hand for a shake. “My name is Florean Fortescue, and I am the owner of this shop.”

I looked down at his hand and reached over for a shake. As I was about to open my mouth to introduce myself, the thought struck me that I wasn’t sure how. The world seemed to slow as I thought it over.

I’ve been running around busy all night. I’ve only talked to a few people, but I haven’t actually had a need to introduce myself yet. There was that teenaged boy but that was just to find out when I was. The barkeep I talked to so I could find out where to go. The goblins were a means to get money and look where that got me. They were also the closest I got to actually introducing myself, letting the letter do most of the talking. But I hadn’t actually given a proper introduction yet.

Should I go with the name that was on the letter? Probably, there was likely no one else to claim the name. Would that mean giving up on my old name, though?

Actually…

What was my old name?

Huh…

I ignored that little revelation and focused back on Mr. Fortescue. Throughout all this I still had the feeling of not yet being part of the wizarding world. Just a girl passing by who most people probably won't remember the next day. This felt different, though.

I gave a small smile as the world around me began returning to speed. I didn’t remember there being much information on him in the books, but what I could recall was nice. I decided to give him a name and thought back to my letter.

DESIGNATION: STELLA ADVENA

“Hello, sir!” I took his hand, gave him a beaming smile, and tipped my hat as I did so, “My name is Stella Advena!”

I was a cleaning machine, working literally tirelessly to keep the tables clean. Mr Fortescue gave me a proper self-cleaning rag to use, much easier than the napkins I was using. The same rag could do both washing and drying! He even had a muggle mop that I could use for the floors. The handle was longer than was meant for my height, so he shortened it with a flick of his wand.

Though before he left me to do my work he waved his wand over me and said, “Scourgify!” A background scent that I had been smelling the whole time lifted and I could now smell something other than trash. The store’s customers suddenly stopped avoiding me.

Yeah, I had been forgetting I needed that the whole time.

I was seated at a table focusing on a stubborn spot. I was considering throwing caution to the wind and blasting the spot with my wand when a bowl of ice cream was placed in front of me. “Gwuh?”

“It's on the house. Thanks for keeping my shop tidy,” he turned to face the empty room, cupping his hands over his mouth to project his voice as if talking to secret agents of child labor departments, “Of your own amusement, with no expectation of getting paid.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Thanks, dude!” I grabbed a spoon. I was about to scoop some of the ice cream up when I paused. “Um, can I get this in cash instead?”

Mr. Fortescue smiles before placing a cauldron in front of me. “I'd think you'd rather have these school supplies instead.”

I was a little stunned. I looked in the cauldron and saw it was filled with books. “What? When did you get these?”

"I had a word with the owner of Flourish and Blotts when he popped by for his lunch break. You were a bit too focused on your work to notice,” He explained. “I told him what you were doing and we both kinda made assumptions about what you were needing money for. Managed to get these books at a good discount, too!"

I pulled one of the books out. ‘A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot.’ The spine was a little bent, but it popped back into shape easily enough. “They're not in the best condition,” he continued. “Apparently a fight broke out about a week ago there. Some of the books got caught in the scuffle. He could get them repaired, but most students have already done their shopping, so he figured, why bother?”

He placed a hand on the cauldron. “The cauldron and phials are some used ones I had lying around. I go through them fairly quickly trying to find new flavors. I replace them every few months or so. This one still has some life left in it, should last you the whole of your first year. You’ll have to find a new one next summer, though.” The cauldron had the parlor’s logo on it. I kinda liked that.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some glass phials, “The phials will last longer, probably until the end of your seventh year if you treat them right. They are not a full set though.” He placed the phials in the cauldron next to the books then pushed it closer to me, “This isn't payment, but a gift in exchange for helping keep the place lively. I can't help you with the rest of your list though. This close to the start of term, you’ll likely have to sort that out at Hogwarts."

I brought the cauldron closer to me and hugged it. It felt like my eyes were burning a little. “Oh,” I murmur. I don’t know where all this was coming from, but it was taking a huge load off my mind. “I, uh, didn't expect this. I was just looking for some quick cash, this is a lot more than I was expecting! You didn't have to do this much.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed, "With how hard you were working, you deserved at least this much. You put on a brave face when you came up to the counter, but it was clear to anyone that you haven’t been having the best of days."

I tighten my fingers onto the rim of my hat. I had thought I was being cool and precocious when I did that. I considered refusing the gift for a bit, insisting on the money so I could buy them myself. But when I looked up, Florean was looking at me with a soft smile. He wants to help, and if I refused I imagine he’d be disappointed.

Besides, I was gonna buy these things anyways, he saved me a step. I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Free is free.

My voice wobbled a bit when I asked, “I thought I was being pretty cheerful. Was I really that obvious?”

He strokes his beard, giving it a thought. “It wasn’t too obvious, I don’t think. Your acting skills are rather decent. I couldn't help but notice the commotion earlier outside my window, though,” he pointed out and I turned to see a perfect view of the entrance to Gringotts. “You looked pretty spooked when you ran in here to use the loo.”

I looked outside and there it was, the site of my public panic. I felt my face turn red and kept staring out the window to give my face time to cool off. Hopefully it wasn’t a slow news day. It wouldn’t be front page worthy, but I would not like to see a news article titled ‘Young Magician Freaks Out in Public.’

I took note of the setting sun. I still didn’t feel tired or hungry. I should probably get a watch to keep track of the time since exhaustion won’t remind me. And just like that, 6:35pm appears in the corner of my vision. I was at it longer than I thought.

I decided I should probably go find a room to rest and get ready for some more shopping/job hunting the next day. “Oh, huh. Drats, I didn't realize the time,” I say, “Gotta get up early for tomorrow!” I hop off my barstool and head to the exit, cauldron in hand.

“Not gonna eat your ice cream?” I freeze. It had been an emotional day. I could use a treat, and frankly I deserve one after the day I’ve had. Hopping back to my seat I scoop and take a bite.

My mouth explodes with a sugary sensation, greater than anything I've ever experienced before.

Birthday Cake Ice Cream! It tastes like vanilla and frosting, but somehow still has the texture of cake. I savor my first bite in this world, thankful that despite my newly robotic nature I still had functional taste buds. Something inside me whirrs in happiness. Mr. Fortescue did fantastic work, and I would have to come back to his shop again. It was instantly my favorite place in Diagon Alley.

Blush gone, I look him in the eye. “This is the best thing I have ever tasted.”

He must have liked the compliment, he had the kindest smile I had ever seen.

Chapter Text

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream! I hummed happily to myself as I shoveled more of the ice cream into my mouth. Part of me wanted to slow down and savor the treat while another part of me wanted to eat the whole thing in seconds. I reached a compromise with myself, and was eating my bowl in bursts at a time.

It was a good system, if a little unorthodox from how Mr. Fortescue had looked at me. "Careful, Stella. You'll get a bad case of brain freeze if you continue eating at this rate." I didn't stop. I was fairly confident by now that I did not have the ability to feel pain, and I was using that to my advantage. I still slowed down a tad, shooting him a thumbs up to reassure him.

He gave me a soft smile and went back to closing his register. The sign had been switched to closed a short while ago and the only dirty table left was the one I was messing up. The small puddles of ice cream glowed red in my vision, and I had to assure myself that they would be cleaned up before I left in order to shut up my alerts.

He finished up right as I was close to finishing my treat and took a seat in front of me right as I took a bite, "Stella, is it alright if I ask you something?"

I paused and gave him a nod, spoon still in my mouth.

"I've been meaning to ask you, but where are your parents?"

Oh dang. I forgot to plan out for that inevitable question. I started to mentally scramble to come up with an excuse. I needed to come up with something quickly, something that would convince him everything was alright. "Uuuuh," I said around the spoon. Brilliant.

"Are you here alone?" He asks.

I swallowed my ice cream. There was a sense that I had stepped into a field of conversational landmines. One wrong step and I would be spirited away to some magical foster system. Maybe it wouldn't really be that bad, buuuut there would probably be a mandated health screening involved. That was something I would want to avoid, seeing as I was not one hundred percent in the know on whether I had blood or not. I was not sure if I ever wanted to find out the answer, but I definitely didn't want the Ministry of Magic to find out first.

"Kiiiiiiinda?" I answer, stretching the word out to give me one more second to think. Another spoon full of ice cream granted me a few seconds more. The bartender at the Leaky Cauldron had probably not believed me when I lied about my parents being nearby, but I left quickly enough that he wasn't able to question me. The same wouldn't work for the Ice Cream Man though. He bought me my school books, the dude was invested.

"So you are here alone?" A shade of alarm started to color his face.

"Yeah, but I wasn't supposed to be!" I spoke with a start, abandoning my planning phase and just going for whatever words came to my head first. "I was supposed to meet someone here!"

Mr. Fortescue stayed silent. He rested his elbows on the table, hands folded before him in a silent invitation for me to continue my explanation. I accepted his invitation and continued lying by the seat of my pants.

"Yeah. My, uh, cousin. I still had a bit to buy, and he was supposed to bring the money with him. He got held up at work and the goblins wouldn't let me access his vault without him present." That sounds plausible, right?

"It's been several hours. Shouldn't he be out of work by now?"

"Well he didn't get held up at work so much as was called in to work. He was supposed to be off today, you see. To take me shopping." Yes, this made sense. "It was very last minute. I was already here waiting for him when I got the heads up that he was called in. Two of his co-workers didn't come in so he had to go cover for them. It's a late shift so he won't be off until later." That should cover it.

The shade of alarm was back, "How late will he be working? Can't your parents come get you?" Oh no!

"They're working overseas!" See how quickly and readily I answered? If I were lying I would clearly have needed to take some time to think up an excuse! "I'm staying with my aunt right now, actually." I could suddenly sense Fortescue's next question before he could even ask it, "My aunt who is at the doctor's right now! So I walked here. And got the books and cauldron I needed! I was actually about to walk home right now, actually."

He stayed silent for a while, long enough that I was starting to get the impression that he didn't believe me. He sighed. "It's night outside, so I can't in good conscience let you walk home in the dark. I'll get you a room at the Leaky Cauldron."

My ready protests died on my lips at the promise of a free stay at the inn. I was planning to say that I lived close by and the walk wouldn't be that far, but now… "Oh, many thanks! It would have been quite a long walk in the dark to get home!"

I quickly got back to my treat and finished up my ice cream/cake, quickly wiping the mess I made like I promised myself. Once done, I followed Mr. Fortescue out the door and waited while he locked up. "Come along now," he said.

Diagon Alley was calmer now, not as crowded with several shops closing up. The day wasn't completely over, some shops and restaurants were still drawing in a dwindling crowd, preparing in anticipation for the emerging night scene. I enjoyed the change in atmosphere as I followed him back to the Leaky Cauldron while swinging my own smaller, actual cauldron.

He held the door to the inn open for me like a proper gentleman. I walked in head held high and did my best not to let my eagerness at winning a free stay at an iconic Harry Potter location show through. There was a busier crowd at this hour. I looked around but didn't see any notable characters I could recognize. No turbans, twinkling eyes, or half giants in sight. There was another guy in a top hat. I tipped my hat to him and he tipped his back.

"Evening, Tom," Mr. Fortescue called.

"Florean!" Tom, the bartender, called back brightly. "I imagine today must have been as fruitful a day for you as last year!"

"That it was! Sad to see the summer end, but I had a lot of customers eager for one last bowl before going back to Hogwarts!"

"Glad to hear it, Florean. The usual?"

Mr. Fortescue brightened. "Oh yes, please! I also came for a favor," he gestured behind himself to where I was standing. I waved in acknowledgement. "I was wondering if you had a room available for this girl here? I don't much like the idea of her walking home in the dark."

Tom leaned over and spotted me, "No money still?  Did things not go well at Gringotts?"

"The goblins wouldn't let her access her cousin's vault without him present it seems," Mr. Fortescue helpfully explained for me.

"Cousin?" He arched an eyebrow. Ah, right. I gave him a different story, didn't I?

"WOW!" I clapped my hands together drawing attention. I looked up to Mr. Fortescue, trying to make my eyes bright and happy. "You're really letting me sleep here for the night? You are so awesome!"

"Hopefully so. It's a busy day for Tom, but hopefully there is a room left," Mr. Fortescue turns back to Tom, "It should only be for tonight. She should be alright tomorrow onwards."

Tom gave it some thought. He gave a nod, "Most rooms are already taken by families looking to walk to King's Cross, but I should still have a room left. She'll be safe there."

I did a little happy dance in my head, keeping a polite exterior all the while. Tom reached under the counter and pulled out some keys.

"Here you go, little miss. Are you alright going to your room on your own? Gonna catch up with Florence here for a bit."

"No problem at all!" I take the keys and pick up my cauldron. I turn to Mr. Fortescue and give him a salute, "Thanks for the free room and board, boss! I'll be sure to visit your parlor again, and it'll be my treat next time!"

"I look forward to it, Stella!" He waved as I went upstairs, checking the number on my room key as I climbed.

The trip to the room was fun on its own. It would've been boring if I didn't look carefully at the dimensions and realize the second floor of the Leaky Cauldron was much bigger than the dimensions outside the establishment would suggest. No wonder this shabby place could host so many wizards and witches.

I wouldn't have normally given the space any mind beyond a stray thought if that stray thought hadn't summoned up some sort of visual measuring system to prove it to me. I would have to sit down and take stock of all my 'features' eventually, but so far I've been liking these surprises. It was like my brain was saying Don't worry girl, I got you.

My key opened up its matching door and I stepped inside to a small, cozy little room. All the good ones must have been taken, as this was pretty much a closet with enough room for a small mattress and a bit of furniture. There wasn't enough room for a roaring fireplace, but the miniature fireplace on the nightstand looked nice and warm enough.

Thankfully me and my stuff didn't take up a lot of room. I made sure the door was locked behind me, then took off my hat and stretched my antenna. I used a small chair as a coat rack, draping my tuxedo jacket over it with its long coat tails almost reaching the floor. I gently placed my Fortescue Parlor branded cauldron of books on the table next to my hat and gloves.

I stepped in front of the mirror, and the removal of those accessories did a lot to change my look. It looked more like I was wearing a normal school girl uniform now rather than something more at home on stage at a magic show. I would stand out less dressed this way, but the thin metal rods sticking out of my head gave me away.

I would stick with my trusty hat, and the jacket and gloves would stay with it too. It's not like wizards are strangers to top hats, I should blend in well enough. If anyone asks why I look like a stage magician, then clearly it's because I practice magic. Heck, I could probably use the same excuse for muggles and get away with it too.

I kicked my shoes off then jumped into the bed, releasing a breath and pretending I was exhausted from the long day I just had. I curled up under the covers and put my head on the pillow. I then immediately scooted myself away from the headboard so my antenna wouldn't scrape against the wood. They flickered around happily, gently whizzing now that they were out of the hat.

I closed my eyes and began to go to sleep.

I did not go to sleep.

I tried, I laid there in bed for hours with my eyes closed. The first hour was spent trying to lose consciousness. The second hour as well but with more frustration. Eventually, I started trying to remember some of the more important beats of the first book, hoping distracting my thoughts would help with dozing off. I debated with myself on whether I should preserve the timeline or if I should even care if I didn't.

Sure, Harry and Ron becoming friends with Hermione after the troll attack is important, but what if I had a rocket punch and could just knock the troll out cold? I didn't have a rocket punch, I checked, but it would be so cool if I did.

I sure got over that robotic reveal pretty fast, I thought to myself. I did have the time now to psychoanalyse myself and figure out what my deal is, whether my thoughts were normal or not, but I didn't waaaaant tooooo.

I just really wanted to go to Hogwarts right now. I hope I didn't need my letter to get on that train.

Eventually, the corner of my eye read 5:56 am, and I gave up on sleep. I threw off my blanket and started to get ready for the morning. I had just finished buckling the thin straps of my shoes when someone knocked on the door. Putting on my hat, I went to answer.

It was Tom, the owner, "Good morning, Stella. Florence wanted me to check up on you, make sure you slept well and if you would be alright heading home today."

"Morning, the bed was cozy and I'm fully rested!" I said in a chipper voice, "I should be good to go!"

"Good to know!" Tom said cheerfully. "He was really worried about you, and I couldn't help but agree."

"Uuuuh, why would you two be worried?" I asked.

"Well, we are both pretty certain you don't actually have a cousin," he said. He waved me down when it looked like I was ready to make a dash for the window, "Don't worry, we won't ask any questions." I could hear the unsaid 'for now' at the end of that sentence.

"Well, I am perfectly able to say that I do actually have a cousin," I said, speaking what is technically the truth. I am indeed not a mute.

"Well regardless, Florence will be glad to know you slept well. We hope you enjoy your stay at Hogwarts, it's one of the best schools of magic around," he smiled, holding his hand out for the keys. Drats, I was hoping I could get another free day at the Cauldron before boarding the train.

I hoist my cauldron up to my shoulder like a purse and hand the keys back to him. A thought struck me, something I should probably test while I had the time. Something that would be very important to confirm before I left

"Hey, one more thing Mr. Tom. Do you know what time Ollivander's opens?"

Chapter Text

I was likely going to be surrounded by magic for my foreseeable future, and this was the most definitive way I could think of that would let me know if I could directly cast magic or not. If this failed, I would still try to sneak into Hogwarts and use what tools I had to fake it ‘till I made it, but having a real magic wand would make it easier to integrate.

I stood outside the wand shop looking up at the sign proclaiming their millennia of experience. Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. I was wondering if this was something I should even try. I still had no money, but maybe window shopping was allowed? I didn’t need to buy a wand, just confirm that I could use one. But perhaps…

I entered Ollivander’s and crossed my fingers that I would get as lucky with a wand as I did with my books at Fortescue’s.

I look around at the boxes lining the shelves, each containing a wand. A few towers looked like they were organized well enough, but most looked like someone had been playing Jenga against themselves. A few of the piles were games of Jenga that they had lost, collapsed but in a way that spoke more of organized chaos than a careless pile of magic. Other than that, it felt just like another shop, just with an older aesthetic.

There was a wizard at one of the shelves with his back turned, it looked like he was counting one of the toppled piles. He briefly paused his work for a bit at the ring of a bell that sounded when I opened the door but he went back to work without turning around.

I stood in place for a bit, waiting for him to finish his work and turn to speak to me. He should know I’m here, right? The bell rang and everything. But when he finished he moved onto another pile, scribbling some more with a quill and clipboard he was carrying.

Running out of patience, I approached what was probably Mr. Ollivander. I stood behind him for a bit, waiting for acknowledgement. I cleared my throat. “Ah-hem.”

He jumped in place with a yelp, his quill and clipboard flying. He turned sharply to look at me, eyes wide and hand clutching his chest. We locked eyes, both wide. I didn’t expect to almost give him a heart attack, he always seemed so aware of everything from what I remembered. “Um, sorry. Didn't mean to frighten,” I apologized.

“No no,” he said, his breathing calming down, “I apologize for my inattentiveness, I heard the bell but thought it was just the wind.” He looks a little sheepish, “I am normally more professional than this. I'm afraid my age is catching up to me.”

“It's fine,” I smiled, “I was hoping I could look at wands?”

“Yes, yes. Give me a moment, I'm not usually caught unawares,” He pulled out his own wand and started waving it around. His quill and clipboard floated off the ground and came to rest on another shelf next to a roll of measuring tape. The tape then flew to Mr. Ollivander’s hands as if it had been tagged in by the clipboard. “Now then, which is your wand arm?” I flipped a mental coin and told him it was my left.

He hummed and mumbled to himself as he started measuring my arms and legs. “First of your family to be born a witch?” He asked in conversation.

“Yeah, sure,” I answered. “I don’t know of any family members who were witches or wizards. Never seen someone get a wand in person before, so this is a neat experience.”

“Yes, though really it is more the wand that is getting its wizard. Four feet four inches. Below average but not unheard of.” I didn’t know if that comment about my height was rude or not. He turned away from me to look at the piles of wands, leaving his tape to measure my earlobes on its own.

The tape was measuring the circumference of my ribcage when it pressed into my magician’s wand. It seems like the tape noticed because it twisted and flexed against itself to make a snapping sound at its master. Ollivander turned back and looked at the tape as it squiggled in place and pointed at my jacket’s inner pocket. “Excuse me, but is it true that you already have a wand?”

“Uh,” I reached in and pulled out my wand, “Um, it's a toy wand. I was hoping to get a real, magical one.”

He looked fascinated at my wand, reaching for it before pausing and looking towards me for permission. I was a bit uncomfortable with letting go, but nodded if only to see if I could learn more about my sci-fi wand. There was a slight, magnetic resistance before it left my hand. He hummed to himself while he looked at it, holding it up to the light and measuring it. “Interesting. Most interesting. Where did you get this toy?”

“Oh, I've had it for as long as I can remember,” I said, weaving a story on the fly, “My parents gave it to me when I was a lot younger and I've had it ever since.” Oh wait, I was supposed to be the first of my family here. “I always liked magic and was thrilled to learn that it was real.”

“They have quite a taste in children's toys, I see. The length, nine inches exactly. Definitely not a real wand, but the length may suit you. The material though…”

“What about the material?” I asked, but he had already left to look at wands, still holding mine. He came back shortly after with several boxes.

“Willow, unicorn horn, nine and a quarter inches,” He places it in my hand and we wait for a minute, looking to see if the wand does anything. Nothing happened. Ollivander gave a curious hum, “Hmm… No no no, not right at all.” He takes it back before replacing it with another wand, “Fir, Dragon heartstring, nine and three quarter inches.” He tapped it to my palm. His fingers relaxed as if he were about to let go, but he held off. He looked at it, head tilted curiously. We waited a while for a reaction, but he withdrew it faster than the first wand. Another wand, “Mahogany, Phoenix feather, fifteen inches.” He placed it in my hand. He looks like he wants to take it back but stops himself and gestures to me to wave it. I do, and nothing happens. It is out of my hand again.

This continued on for a while. Something like this happened in the books I recall, but in the story Mr. Ollivander was getting more and more excited. It was like trying to solve a worthy puzzle there. Here, in front of me, it was feeling more like he was hitting his head against the wall.

We had gone through practically the whole shop of wands by the time my clock said 9:47am. I was getting bored of standing there, and would have probably given up and left by now if Ollivander still didn’t have my wand in hand. In my head the answer of whether I could use a wand had already been answered. Thankfully after the first few dozen tests each subsequent wand didn’t last longer than two seconds in hand before switching places otherwise I would have been here a lot longer.

Mr. Ollivander’s hair had become more and more wild with time. He took away what was practically a tree branch and shoved another wand at me. “Plywood, twelve inches,” he closed his eyes and sighed in frustration, “Troll whisker.” A swing of that wand thankfully gave me nothing. Ollivander looked equally relieved before taking the wand to hide again in the back, “You will tell no one I have this. It was made for practice in my younger days.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” and while I had his attention on me and not the wands I asked him, “Can I have my wand back?”

He looked surprised to still be holding it. He gently handed it back to me, and I welcomed the feeling of it back in my possession. He stroked his chin in thought. “I was focused on how the length of the wand suited you, thinking a real wand would correlate, but perhaps it is the material of the core I should be looking at?”

“Yeah, you were saying something about this wand’s material?” I asked, hoping to get some new information out of this before leaving.

“This toy wand, its material is unusual. I believe I have heard of it before, but I can’t imagine anyone ever using that material for a mere toy,” he says, gesturing at my wand. “As it is, it won’t be able to help you cast spells without an appropriate wood to conduct the magic. But perhaps a wand made with the material of your toy as a core could accept you?”

“Sounds interesting, dude. What’s the wand made of?” C’mon, answer the question so I can go and get some robes.”

“I believe I may have an idea of what the material is, but if you will allow me I can cast a spell to make sure?” he held his own wand in preparation for my permission.

“Sure, go ahead,” I held my wand up to him. He gave his wand a wave, murmuring something under his breath. As the wand did its magic, my wand started to glow. It started from the tip before going down its length, shedding a blue light for us to see.

“Oh my, this is a very rare material indeed, very difficult to find!” He said, growing excited. “I haven’t had the chance to test a wand with this core myself, it is very exciting!”

A rare material? I was less interested in wandering off now and stayed put to hear him out some more. “Oh? What have I got?”

“It is a special type of metal alloy composed of a mixture of Kamacite and Taenite!” he said, suddenly switching from an ancient mage of mystique and power to an MIT professor working on his research paper. The hair did already give him a mad scientist vibe, so it wasn’t much of a shift in vibes. “It is rare to find this metal without it already being under someone else’s watch. In fact, the only place you can really find it is in…” he slowed down and stopped his lecture as he kept staring at my wand.

I followed his eye and saw that the blue glow of his spell didn’t stop at my wand. It kept going down and into my hand, flowed into my arm, and congregated into a large mass at the center of my chest. Mr. Ollivander looked like he had just struck a goldmine of rare material, which he probably had.

I stepped back from the spell, the blue glow dying off. “Oh, would you look at that! I should probably be going now, I am probably keeping you from all your other customers!” I try to excuse myself. I was probably right, though. There hasn’t been any other customer since I’ve been here.

“Oh no, it is no bother,” he says. “Most of the customers I would have had had already bought their wands in the past few weeks and are probably already boarding the Hogwarts Express at this moment.”

I pout at the news, looking around to try and find another excuse to get away. Something that wasn’t too obvious. I wanted to leave without making it look like it was just because I’m apparently made out of good wand materials and I didn’t wanna be near a wand maker. At least he was more polite than the goblins about it.

Wait, what was that he said just now? “Boarding the Hogwarts Express?” I asked, “Doesn’t it take off tomorrow?”

“It does not,” he said, “Today is the first of September. It is to depart for Hogwarts at eleven on the dot.”

“But I thought yesterday was August 30th.” The teenager at the restaurant said it was! He did! He said it in that restaurant. In the middle of the night. When it was probably already past midnight and he wasn’t thinking about the hour. Just then a new feature was added next to my internal clock. 1 Sept popped up, just as my clock switched from 9:59 to 10:00. “Oh no,” I spun around and started to run, “Gotta go, gotta go! Thanks and bye!” I snatch my cauldron and my books on my way out, not waiting for Mr. Ollivander to say anything else.

The best excuse I could find ended up being a very valid one.

Chapter Text

I was running in place in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The sign said open, nothing was stopping me from going inside. Nothing but the clock slowly ticking towards eleven o'clock. No time to shop, but maybe I could run in, snatch a robe, and run out? I could come back to pay later!

You need a uniform, Stella! But you don't have time, Stella! What if they kick you out of school, Stella! It would be stealing, Stella! You'll pay them back, Stella! You have a train to catch, Stella!

Hey, Stella, don't they have to custom order those things? Pretty sure they would have to measure you, shorty. Also no money.

"Uuuaaahhh!" Nope, too many reasons not to go in right now. I would just have to… I dunno, make a uniform out of drapes or something! Shopping for anything at this point was a lost cause anyways.

I weaved between wizards on my way back to the Leaky Cauldron. There were several exits back to Muggle London that I passed by, but the exit to the Cauldron came with the advantage of knowing where in London I originally entered from. I brought up the map I saw on the bus stop over a day ago and used whatever passed for a paint program in my head to trace a route to King Cross Station from that place I found the Leaky Cauldron at.

Whatever programs lurked in my head seemed to get what I was aiming for and I gained a fancy new minimap in another corner of my vision. It came with some sort of GPS navigation and a compass like out of a video game. Though with that addition my vision was starting to get a little crowded. I would probably need to figure out how to take away some of these fancy features before my ever growing HUD consumes all my visual real estate. I still needed to use my eyes to look at things, after all!

Tom and a few patrons looked up in surprise as I burst into the bar. Tom opened his mouth to speak, "Everything alright?"

"Notimetotalkgottagothankyou!" I said politely as I sprinted past him. I would have to come back next year, the room was small but pretty cozy despite not being able to sleep. I made it to the other end of the bar and burst out the door. I was out in the Muggle world again.

Once out, I turned north. I started to run and vowed not to stop until I reached the station. A vow that I had to break as soon as I ran into my first crosswalk stoplight.

"Relax kid," said a man waiting next to me, "The light should change soon."

"I gotta be at the train station by eleven!" Should I try and risk finding out if I can survive getting run over by a car? Probably not.

"Oh. Better run fast then." The light changed to a walking figure, and I continued running before the words 'unaccompanied minor' could enter the man's thoughts.

I don't stop to look around at the sights. I really really wanted to, but I would have to see them later. If I happened to pass several landmarks on the way to the train then that was pure coincidence. I was taking the most efficient route possible, honest.

Okay, I may have been taking advantage of being able to run non-stop at full speed without getting tired. But it's a fantastic advantage and if it gives me a few extra minutes to make a few slight detours to run by a few museums and gardens then why not use it?

All right, I may not have been running full speed the whole time. The British Museum was on the way and there was a guy outside talking about some interesting history that I probably slowed down for a second to listen in on. And maybe I did it again for Russell Square and the British Library. There is too much history in this city. I had a clock though, I knew how much time I could waste!

All was going according to plan, nothing could stop me on my trip to the train station! Except traffic lights. Which I kept getting stopped by. I could have probably ignored them but I didn't want to find out if I could survive getting run over by a car.

It was 10:53am by the time I made it to the station. Plenty of time! I weaved between the crowd in a hurry and looked up at the numbers to find platforms nine and ten. I almost bumped into a couple of businessmen, tourists, and a pair of boys and their luggage but I succeeded in finding my target.

I found the platforms and eyed the seemingly solid barrier between the Hogwarts Express and I. Cauldron in hand, I took aim and started running full speed. A twinge of hesitation almost made me close my eyes but I pressed on as the wall quickly approached.

The moment I met the wall my vision was filled with static once more. I remembered the last time this happened, and when the static faded the Leaky Cauldron was standing in front of me. I figured something like this was happening once more. Once the static faded, I would likely see the iconic train standing tall in front of me.

LIGHT CONCUSSIVE FORCE DETECTED. NO PERMANENT DAMAGE

Or I could have just jostled my head running full speed into a brick wall.

I was on my back looking at the glass ceiling when my vision returned. What the heck just happened?

I could imagine a camera crew jumping out to point and laugh at me while some banners were held up saying "Magic's not real, Loser!" but I had seen too much evidence saying otherwise. I didn't need to go and find another restroom to run into and spiral into self doubt in front of the sink's mirror a third time.

"Again!?" a nearby guard yelled. "What is it with children these days!?" Looking around from the floor it looked like a few people were staring at me. A kid running into the wall at full speed didn't seem to be enough to draw a steady crowd, but enough for a few people to stop and stare.

I pat my head. Hat's still on, good. I get back up and grab my cauldron. It didn't look like anything fell out of it thankfully. There was still the small group of people looking at me though.

I turn to face them and see some approaching employees. I give them a quick, theatrical bow. "uh, sorry for the disturbance! Magic trick gone wrong! I'm a magician, you see!" That seemed to mollify most of the spectators. Enough so that I was able to book it without too many people finding it weird.

I dashed out the door and slowed to a stop in the parking lot. I gave myself a quick inspection, and it didn't look like I got hurt anywhere but my pride. That did reassure me, but that still left me with what I was supposed to do next.

My clock read 11:02am. I should have reached the train on time, could my internal clock be wrong? Comparing it to a nearby clock showed that that wasn't the case. I did make it on time then. What the hell? Why couldn't I go in? It could have been that I didn't pick the right brick wall. I probably should have gotten here earlier and seen where everyone was disappearing into. Curse London's rich history, numerous attractions, and viability for tourism!

Could I go back into the station and try the other walls near platforms nine and ten? Maybe the train's delayed? Or maybe I could just run along the tracks if I was crazy enough? I kept trying to think of how else I could get on that train.

While I was trying to figure out how to not lose my year long meal ticket, I spotted two kids arguing amongst themselves. It was a redheaded kid and another in glasses. What were the odds?

From the look of things, they were frantically trying to stuff their luggage into the trunk of their blue car. The redhead had slammed the trunk and hit a broomstick that was sticking out, which ticked off the kid with the glasses. Rather than try again, Glasses just took the broom and threw it in the backseat next to an owl in a cage. Trunk closed, Redhead headed over to the passenger side and started fiddling with some keys. Oh, wait, Britain. He's going to the driver's side. Kid's gonna drive without a license.

Glasses headed on over to the passenger side. I got my first clear view of his face. I was too far to notice until my vision zoomed into his face. Specifically his forehead. I didn't ask my vision to do that, but it confirmed things for me. Yep. That was a scar on his forehead and it was definitely shaped like a bolt of lightning.

I may have made assumptions about when in the timeline I popped up in.

My ticket to Hogwarts woke up as its engine roared to life. Oh, I should get on that. "Wait, wait, hold on! I wanna ride too!"

It didn't seem like they heard me, as the car started to drive away. The car was being driven by a twelve year old boy, which was very, very dangerous but also to my advantage as clearly Ron didn't have any experience driving. The Ford Anglia kept stalling as it tried to leave the parking lot. I couldn't hear anything, but could see there was some panicked arguing in the car over what I assumed was the gear stick. Something shifted and the car rocked in place before it started advancing upward in addition to onward.

Cauldron in hand, I picked up the pace. The stalling gave me the time to get right behind the car before it got too high. Before its speed could pick up I pumped my legs a bit faster than humanly possible. Something that would have probably been noticeable if someone looked long enough, but I only needed to do so for a brief burst. Before the car could escape my reach, I leapt up and grabbed on to the bumper.

I imagine I would have asked myself if this was a good idea eventually. Instead, I looked down and saw the ground getting further and further away, answering the question before I could even ask it. There were a few people looking up and pointing at us, shock written all over their faces.

This was probably a stupid idea and I should have given it some thought before I did this.

Chapter Text

Look! Up in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

No, it’s me. I am the one in the sky.

There was a worry I had that eventually my hand would get tired. Hours later, my hand held firm in what was probably a literal vise-grip. I didn’t even have to focus on holding on. My hand just held on while the rest of my body dangled in the air following my outstretched arm holding on to the invisible car in a sort of lazy superman pose.

At least that’s what I imagine it looked like. I couldn’t tell on account of being blind for a while there. The car went invisible shortly after lift off. I had a few seconds of seeing my hand grab onto nothing before static filled my vision again. When vision came back, I could see the car once more. As if insulted by the fact that it was visible again, the car reasserted its invisibility, stubbornly insisting it shouldn’t be seen. My eyes objected to that, so the static, followed by the car, filled my vision again. This cycle continued for a short while, with the car arguing that it shouldn’t be seen and my eyes insisting it should.

Eventually, as a compromise, my eyes decided to just keep the static on while the car was invisible. I was less than pleased with this compromise. Flying blind was pretty damn terrifying to be honest. I took solace in that this static filled blindness kept me ignorant of just how high off the ground I was.

Thankfully, after a loud popping sound, the car’s invisibility thingy broke down and my vision came back. The car itself still looked the same as it did hours ago, so there was nothing else to look at but the beautiful landscape we were flying over. And it was still absolutely terrifying, don’t get me wrong, but I guess I just got used to internally freaking out after a while?

I had also gotten a little bored with blindness. I didn’t mind the terror, even though it compelled me to hold my body perfectly still for fear of slipping up and falling who knows how far.
Oh, I’m 6,132 feet off the ground at the moment. Yes, this is something I needed to know.

As an aside, apparently clouds don’t have any taste. I stuck my tongue out while we flew through one and it was like trying to taste a fog. I did unexpectedly learn how car exhaust tasted like shortly after trying to taste a cloud, so that was unpleasant. Every time the car’s engine popped and released more exhaust it made my desire to stop this crazy ride grow more and more.

“Helloooooooo!” I called out for like the fifth time. “You have a stowaway back heeeeere! She’s been holding on for a while now!” They still couldn’t hear me over the wind. I thought about using my other hand to bang on the trunk to get their attention but that hand was holding my cauldron and I didn’t wanna lose all my stuff. I was a little annoyed by gravity keeping me out of sight of the rear view window. Maybe I would have been nice and cozy inside the car by now if they could see me by turning around.

At least I could see the train. It was so tiny from up here. And a lot safer and more comfortable than up here. It made me want to board the train as soon as possible. But not too soon. The fastest way to the Hogwarts Express would probably end with a meaty splat. Or a heavy thump? Either way I doubted I would survive it.

Maybe there was a secret option to get down safely? Some type of anti gravity function or, more preferably, some awesome built in rocket boots? That was a no for the rocket boots, but something did ping on my HUD with the anti gravity idea.

ANTI-GRAVITY FUNCTION: ON

TURN OFF?

Y/N

Uuuuh, it has apparently already been turned on at some point. Does this mean I can let go? I looked back down at the train.

…

Well… I’m already on the way to Hogwarts already. It’s not like I get tired or something. Besides, it’s a lovely view. Not many people can say they’ve tried to taste a cloud. Heck, this is much better than being stuffed in a train compartment. Who cares if I can’t sit and space out while staring out the window when I can dangle and space out while staring at the ground a mile below me? I don’t need to share a room with anyone either, It’s just me, the car, and the two boys who don’t know I exist. No one to bug me.

…

“So. Magic machine, eh?” I spoke to the car, “Same here, actually. Don’t let this cute face fool you, I’m a robot! Beep boop.” Wow, I was getting bored. The car started rising back into the cloud cover, probably in case of muggle hikers or something. It would a few minutes before they would leave their cover to confirm the train’s location again. “I’m probably not actually magical, maybe. But I’m apparently made out of rare wand material so there’s hope there. Don’t tell anyone, though, or else the goblins will hunt me down to try and sell me for parts or something.”

A few minutes in the clouds and the car slowly started going back down. It would probably be a few more hours before we made it to Hogwarts and crashed there. I would probably let go when we were low enough to the ground that I could reliably cannonball into the lake. I hoped I didn’t sink. “Oh, by the way, when you get to the castle look out for the willow tree there. It’s a violent maniac and will probably start beating you up if you run into it. Oh, and can you let the kids driving you know I’m here? I’d like to let go of your bumper without falling to my likely death sometime soon.”

No answer. I sighed and figured I’d try exploring my systems in the time we had left before we reached our destination. I only got as far as toggling the anti gravity thing off and back on before a loud pop interrupted me. The car started shaking. “Uh-oh.”

My arm was yanked forward as the car suddenly started accelerating towards the ground, nose first. Still holding on and being dragged by the car, which was now directly below me, I could see the two boys and an owl panicking. The redhead was pulling switches and pressing buttons. The other boy turned around and reached for the broom in the back seat. His grip was on the broom when I was finally spotted. His green eyes widened and he started shouting at his friend. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could guess the subject. The redhead turned to see me, shouted something, then turned back to the steering wheel.

Something popped again and the car did a vertical U turn, heading straight back up. The turn was sharp and centrifugal force pulled hard at my arm. I heard a creak and suddenly the bumper I was holding and I were flying in a different direction than the Ford Anglia.

I started shouting like crazy. In my panic, I worried I would lose my cauldron and its contents, so I hugged it close to my chest, discarding the useless bumper. “STUPID CAR AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

I spun in the air, my view rapidly switching from the ground closing in below me to the car flying further away above me. The passenger door of the car slammed open and one of the boys jumped out of it, diving headfirst towards me. He gripped a broom in both hands and started straddling it mid fall. His downward momentum suddenly sped up, surpassing mine and catching up to me in a second.

My eyes widened in awe as I was falling side by side with Harry Potter. “GRAB MY HAND!” he yelled over the wind, reaching out towards me. I clutched tight, locking my fingers around his wrist while he did the same to mine. I could feel gravity shifting as it suddenly felt like we were suddenly falling sideways, away from the ground and parallel to the train. If I wasn’t holding my cauldron to my chest with my other arm, I probably could have reached out and brushed a treetop. Instead, I pulled myself up towards him and wrapped my legs around him, securing myself to his broom.

I heard him give a slight grunt, and despite my urge to tighten my limbs I was able to ease up on my sudden full body hug. Not wanting to look at the ground right now, I looked up at him. My vision zoomed in again, and with the wind pushing his hair back I could zoom in on the scar on his forehead. Something about it drew my eyes, like I could just tell there was something dark about it. I had an itch in my brain, like there was something about it I should know. Beyond the whole human phylactery thing I mean. I already knew about that part.

I must have gotten too absorbed staring at his scar, I almost didn’t notice Harry getting more and more uncomfortable at the attention I was giving him. I gave a small squawk of embarrassment and looked away, murmuring a small “sorry.”

It looked like we were headed towards the roof of the train. Harry caught up to it and gently slowed until we were matching speed. It wasn’t solid earth below us, but it was solid enough to stand on. Only then did I let go of him. I stumbled for a bit, then quickly starting adjusting for the speed of the train, automatically leaning towards the front a bit. I inhaled deeply. “WOOOOooooooah, my god! Thanks for the save!” I gave him a short bow and tipped my hat. I relaxed my antennas a bit. For the past several hours I had them stretched out and gripping my hat from the inside this entire trip. It would have probably flown away otherwise and I didn’t know where I could find another hat that would match my outfit this quickly.

I quickly looked through my cauldron to make sure I didn’t drop anything during my fall while Harry caught his breath. Everything seemed to be accounted for. I looked up just as Harry began addressing me. “What were you doing holding on to the back of the car like that? How long were you holding on for? Are you mad!?” he asked, growing more frantic with each question.

“The way to the train was blocked off and you looked like you were headed my way!” I answered, “You two looked like you were headed the same way so I figured I’d give hitchhiking a shot!”

“A driver typically knows when they pick up a hitchhiker.”

“Stowaway then! I would have asked for permission but the car was already on the move by that point so I guess I’m asking for forgiveness instead. Also I lost your bumper. Sorry for that too.”

“Were you holding on to the car the whole ride!?”

“Yup.”

“You are mad.”

“I figured that out pretty early into the ride, yeah,” I answered. He gave an exasperated sigh then looked me up and down, giving a weird look at how I was dressed. I was pretty sure I was being slotted in Harry Potter’s ever growing list of eccentrics he’s met and will meet throughout his life. “I’m a magician!” I answered and left it at that.

He must not have had a response to that, because he looked like he had many different things he wanted to say. It would have been interesting to find out what was going on inside his head in book form. He probably had so many sarcastic thoughts about me right now or something. He gave a soft sigh and it looked like he seemed to mentally accept that I was now a part of his background cast. “Are you okay? How is your arm? We had to make a tight turn at the end there.”

I spun my arm around, “Still in its socket! I’m sturdier than I look!” I eyed him back. His hair and shirt were damp and sweaty, telling me there was a lack of AC in the car. I was also out in the sun the whole time, but I was still bone dry. From all the running I did all of the past two days, not to mention being dangled in the direct sun like an airplane banner for the past several hours, I figured I just didn’t sweat. If I didn’t draw attention to it then hopefully no one will notice.

“That’s good.” He switched his broom from one hand to the other, and reached out for a handshake. “My name is Harry Potter.”

I gave him a big smile and shook his hand. “My name is Stella Advena! Hello to you too!” I looked him over, and he was a bit taller than I was expecting. Though actually, it was more that I wasn’t expecting to be shorter than a twelve year old boy.

His face also didn’t look as much like Daniel Radcliffe as expected. His eyes were bright green, for one, but there were a lot of differences in bone structure and stuff. I tried picturing the boy in front of me in a bunch of different roles Daniel played throughout the years. I could probably picture it a bit if I tried hard enough.

Should I play up that eccentric angle and say he doesn’t look like he’d be able to play Weird Al on the big screen? Being labeled a weirdo could probably help people explain away any weird things I do. Or would that be too much?

Eh, It’s been a stressful few days and I just survived a mile high fall. I can treat myself to some eccentricity. “You know, with a wig and some make up you could probably play Weird Al in a biopic some years in the future.”

“What?” He was not expecting that question. The look on his face was pretty funny, he had no idea what to say next. Neither did I, though. Now we were both just staring at each other wondering what to say next.

Before I could find a way out of this awkwardness, the train took a sharp turn. My legs were still automatically adjusting to the train for me so I still stood upright cool as a cucumber, but a distracted Harry lost his balance a bit. Taking my chance to quickly change the subject, I steadied him, spun him around, and pointed up to the flying car that was doing barrel rolls in the sky, “Your friend looks to be having trouble up there. He doesn’t have a license, does he?”

“Oh no, Ron!” He boarded his broom and looked to be ready to jump off the train. He was about to take off before he looked over his shoulder at me, “Oh, Stella, can you please find a girl in the train called Hermione and tell her where Ron and I are? We were supposed to meet her there.”

I give him a salute, “Aye aye!” and he flew off. Once he was a dot in the distance, I got down on my knees and crawled to the edge of the train. I thought back to the wand shop and the resistance my wand had whenever Ollivander took it out of my hands. I laid them flat on the roof of the train, I felt them stick a bit. A slight tug to make sure my theory was correct. Yup, I had magnets. Not enough to hold myself up if I fell off, but it helped steady me on the metal roof.

I leaned over the edge and reached down. There was a small little sliding door at the top of the train window that I was able to reach. Pushing it to the side, it was thankfully unlocked and I was able to open the window. I turned around and held on to the train’s roof. Slowly, I crawled into the window feet first. A mental Harry Potter was reiterating that I was mad as I did this and once again I could not disagree with him.

I was just small enough to squeeze through the window, and I uncomfortably managed to make my way into the safety of the Hogwarts Express. The brim of my hat caught the window and almost flew off, but a twitch of my antennas and a quick hand saved it.

The compartment I entered was empty except for a little girl sitting alone hugging a magazine, staring at me in shock. I tipped my hat to her, “Excuse me, sorry for the interruption! I need to go talk with someone.” After politely excusing myself, I walked out into the corridor. The girl just sat there gaping at me the whole time.

I saw a few kids of various ages out of their compartments, some in robes and others in normal clothing. A few were only out for a bit as they wandered from one compartment into another, some others stood talking to each other, rudely blocking off the corridor. Those I squeezed past with a brief, “Excuse me.” Others I waved to as I walked past. A few of them waved back in confusion. My plan to blend in and act like I belonged seemed to be working!

I made my way all the way to the back of the train, peeking in through each window for a girl with bushy brown hair. It wasn’t a rare hair color, and there were a few wild hairstyles that I ran into, but so far no one that fitted the description and age range of who I was looking for. It could be that her hair was more exaggerated in my mind compared to real life.

Once I entered the last car, I spotted another student out in the corridor talking through an open door to the students of another compartment. She must not have liked whatever answer she received, she was frowning as she thanked them then closed their door. Brown hair, in the twelve to thirteen year old age range, and hair that was actually as exaggerated as was in my head. I was pretty sure I had my girl.

I had already made my way up to her by the time she turned to try the next compartment. She took a step and had to suddenly stop herself upon finding me in her path. She didn’t shout, but she did give a small jump of surprise, “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t see you there.”

“No worries, it took Harry and Ron several hours to notice me. I guess I’m hard to notice!” I said, spreading my arms to show off my stage magician cosplay. “Are you Hermione?” Her face had a bemused expression, with hints of worry. Probably worry about where her friends were. Don’t see why she would be worried about me, I’m just a normal girl. Were my antenna showing? Was it suspicious to say that I was behind the Boy Who Lived for hours before he noticed me? Probably. I quickly made an attempt to cut off any hints that I was responsible for her friends not being here by saying, “Harry sent me with a message that they got held up at the station and had to come to school another way. They’re a-okay!” I say cheerfully.

“You know where they are?” she asks, looking less worried now, but still concerned. I nod my head in answer.

“Yeah, they’re right over that way,” I said pointing behind her. She turned to look and just saw the window instead of her best friends. Briefly, she starts turning back to me before doing a double take. She looked outside the window more closely. Up in the sky I saw the flying Ford Anglia doing some loops as Ron was trying to get it back under control. A trail of smoke started streaming behind them.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” I said with full confidence.

Chapter Text

Hermione’s hand was twitching over her pocket. It was as if she were facing off against an outlaw at high noon and was primed to pull out her wand and cast a spell. Her eyes were locked onto the car in the distance as it slowly regained control and went back up into the clouds. She gave a sigh of relief, a peaceful calm settling over her like a sheet before it was ripped off as she exploded.

“What are they thinking!?” She shrieked as if we weren’t in a train filled with her peers. “Of all the ridiculous things they could have… Why didn’t they board the train?” It almost sounded like she wished she was up there with them.

Aww, she feels left out. Adorable. “The wall was broken,” I supplied. “It was stopping intruders from passing through, like it wasn’t supposed to.”

Her head jerked towards me, remembering that I still existed. “What? Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Hermione Granger. Who are you?”

“I’m Stella Advena,” I shook her hand, “It’s my first year!”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?” Her hand was twitching still. She was getting answers out of me no matter what, I realized. She was just being polite about it.

“I sure can!” I grinned, deciding to ham it up a bit. I had the outfit, so I may as well have fun with it. And if I throw her off kilter a bit then I should be able to successfully shift from ‘mysterious magician with an unknown background’ to ‘eccentric weirdo who likes to dress in a costume. Possible theater kid.’

“Our tale begins at King’s Cross Station! Due to a scheduling error, I found myself on the verge of being late to reach the train in time to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

She looked like she wanted to interrupt me but held her tongue. Her face asked the unspoken question though, and my ongoing performance answered. No, I am not going to just get to the point. “Keeping an eye on the time, I had made it to the station with barely any time to spare! I approached the barrier that separated the mundane world of the muggles and the fantastic world of magic, but pressing my hand against the wall revealed the way barred to me! Thankfully, I found a solution.”

I reached into my jacket and pulled out my wand, pointing it out the window and at the cloud the car disappeared into. “Two brave youths, one red of hair and one round of glasses, also yearning to learn the secrets of spells and sorcery! They were boarding an enchanted automobile that would take them up into the sky and to a whimsical castle of education. I hitched a ride with them at that point and into the sky we went!”

At some point Hermione and I had started walking away from the rear wagon, my cauldron swinging in my hand, my wand in the other as it embellished my story with its waving in the air. “Eventually, fearing for my safety as the flying vehicle bucked and jumped midair with a mind of its own, Harry set me down upon the train and told me to seek you out and give you his message. They only had the one broom, so he went back with his friend. They should meet you at the castle.”

Hermione gives a sigh of annoyance, “They should have waited for a teacher or owled ahead. Someone would have come to get them eventually. Now they’ll get in trouble before the term even begins!”

“Maybe they’ll get away with it? Probably not, but fingers crossed!”

She sighs and looks me up and down, “That’s a peculiar look.”

“I’m a magician!”

She chuckled at my declaration. My performance seemed to have done the trick. Hermionie seemed to be less worried about her friends and their imminent violent landing. “You must have been excited when you got your letter, I remember how surprised my parents and I were when we received the owl,” a fond look appeared on her face, “Have you already begun reading the course books?” She pointed down to my cauldron and the books that filled it, “I imagine so, seeing as you left the rest of your luggage in the car with Ron and Harry.”

“Oh no,” I corrected, “I haven’t gotten the time to do so yet. It was a hectic day yesterday. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep! I’ll probably open up one of them in a bit once I find a place to sit. I’ve been wanting to read them for a while!”

“You can sit with me. I was going to ride with my friends but, well, you know,” she shrugged towards the window. She led me into a compartment where we had been standing outside for about a minute or so. “I was wondering what was taking those two so long to find me. Neville, another friend of ours, kept me company for a while but had to go to look for his toad. The same thing happened last year. I worry this may turn into a tradition.”

“Thanks!” I placed my cauldron down on the empty seat across from her and hopped into the cushions to relax. “This is a much better ride than the car. Much calmer. So how was the first year at Hogwarts for you?”

I let her talk for a while. She spoke about her classes and the castle. She eventually spoke about trolls and three headed dogs after I asked a few leading questions. I already knew all this stuff from the books. I doubt I would slip up and say something I shouldn’t know, but if I did I would hate the attention that would bring. Hopefully anyone would assume I just heard it from somewhere and not look too deeply into what I know and where I’m from. Please don’t pay too much attention to the little girl with very expensive bones, please.

She clammed up about a lot of stuff though. The top secret stuff like what was beyond the three headed dog. Gonna have to be careful about what I talk about. Note to self, don’t talk about the stone.

NOTE SAVED

Oooh, handy.

Eventually, she started asking questions back, “So I take it you don’t come from a magical background?”

“Nope,” I answer, “Finding that letter was a surprise, but it didn’t sink in until I went to Diagon Alley. Got there right as the sun rose, so that memory’s never leaving me!” I smile, “I remember it like it was just yesterday.”

“I spent my whole first day there at the bookstore. We had to come back the next day for the rest of my supplies,” She giggles.

“I got these books at a discount,” I brag proudly. Hermione’s eyes widened, silently asking me how she could gain this power. “Apparently two grown wizards got into a fistfight and some of the books got damaged. (“Gasp!! Wait…”) Since most students had already bought their supplies, the shopkeep decided they weren’t worth repairing.” I pull out one of the books from my cauldron. ‘Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart.’ Oh god, right, I’m in book two, I have to deal with this con man.

“Oh, that’s Gilderoy Lockhart’s first book!” Hermione’s eyes were practically sparkling. I would have to learn how to weaponize that on command, it looked adorable, “If you’re going to start your reading now, definitely start with that one!”

“Not History of Magic?” I asked, aghast.

“History of Magic is good, I read it twice before my first day, but Lockheart is something else,” that last bit was said with a dreamy tone. How devious Lockheart must have been. To be able to cast such a spell on the witchy half of the magical population and catch such a brilliant girl in his snare? Thankfully I knew the truths of this world and knew what lay ahead of me.

Also I’m a robot apparently. Don’t think I have hormones. So I shouldn’t fall for this.

I’m pretty sure.

Cautiously, I crack open the book. Sadly, the bent spine doesn’t fall apart, so I begin to read.

—----

Someone shakes my shoulder, “Gwuh!?”

“We’re almost at Hogwarts, you should be getting ready,” those are the words Hermione says, but her smug aura was saying ‘I told you he was good.’

And gosh darn it he was. I was hooked. I fell under the wicked spell. “Um, I can get ready in a few minutes?”

She smiles, “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to put the book away for now. You’ll need to put your robes on for the sorting.” She was wearing hers already, having changed while I was distracted.

“Uuaagh, okay,” I memorized the page I was on and put the book back in the cauldron, “Oh, by the way, can I borrow some robes?”

The question startles her. She opens her mouth, probably to ask why I don’t have them before remembering I never boarded at the station, “Oh, right, they must be in the car.” I let her keep that assumption.

I tried to help Hermione bring down her luggage from the overhead storage, but she was probably around a foot taller than I was so I couldn’t really do much. She dug through for a bit before pulling out one of her spare robes. “It will drag when you wear it, but that’s alright. I should be able to get it cleaned when you return it after you get your own robes back. Normally they should be in your dorm before you get there, but I’m not sure how that will work with your luggage not being on the train.”

“I'm sure my luggage will be okay,” I said, placing a hand on my cauldron holding all my earthly possessions.

I struggled for a bit with the robes. They were a few sizes too big for me, I was drowning in cloth. “It would help if you took your hat off,” came an unwelcome suggestion.

“Nope, I love it too much to ever take it off my head,” I was not taking this hat off in front of anyone! I would fit the sorting hat around it. Something like that should be plausible. It was a big hat, I read.

The crown of my hat made it through the neck hole, and with Hermione’s help my arms went into the proper sleeves, though my arms were too short for them to make it out of the fabric. I flapped the sleeves around, amused for a bit before rolling them up to my wrists.

I sat back down and looked out the window at the scenery passing by. The trees weren't flying past us as fast as they were a few minutes ago. I was growing giddy inside. We were about to stop. Almost there!

I’m gonna be the first robot at Hogwarts! I thought to myself. Wait, hold on, wasn’t there something about Hogwarts and electronics?

Hermione started speaking, “Looks like we’re here. All the new students entered a different way than the returning students, so when you get off the train look for-”

CONNECTION LOST

Chapter Text

The room is disorganized. It should not be so.

I head towards the center of the room. A pile of books are haphazardly stacked in the middle. Several of the books are open. I pick one up. An anthropological study on the cultures of the British Isles. The book has been abandoned a few pages in, likely due to disinterest.

I close it and move on to the other books.

A variety of paperback books, the spines broken through repeated, careless use. They are mostly fictional, with some being studies on media and popular culture. I close those that are open and pick all the books up.

I turn around, looking outside the window. They let the light in. The room is bathed in a cold, electric blue. It is a nice day outside.

BOOSTING SIGNAL

There are shelves of books all around me. Several spots are empty. I place the anthropological book in the shelf’s single empty spot. The shelf is full now.

I move on to the fiction shelf. It has many more empty spots. I place several books back in their places. Most spots are filled now. A few books are still missing. The table is clear now.

I review the room. Everything is dusty and disorganized.

I pick up a feather duster. I begin dusting the lamps, the furniture, the shelves. Spick and span. Dust is gone, good job me.

Wipe table with moist cloth. Dry table with unmoist cloth. It is as clean as a table in an ice cream shop.

BOOSTING SIGNAL

One of the shelves is too dusty to ignore. Got to fix that.

Most of the books are in place. Books one through seven should all be in place.

Book two is missing.

Where is the diary?

I look around for it. There it is, a small table next to the window.

I approach it. I stop and stare at it. The target is glowing red. I need to put it on the shelf.

I need to take it.

I reach for it.

A lightning bolt strikes outside.

BOOSTING SIGNAL

My antenna jump up in attention. I feel something calling out to me.

CONNECTION FOUND

“-hat’s wrong, she just suddenly- Stella!” I opened my eyes and a panicked Hermione was hovering over me. A round faced boy was standing outside the compartment with a worried look on his face.

“Whu happen?” Hermione and the boy helped me sit back up. I somehow ended up on my back in the train compartment all of a sudden. I turned to look at the boy who was holding a frog in his hands. I was thinking that that could maybe probably have been Neville, but that could not be right. Neville was missing a frog, this couldn’t be him.

“Are you alright? You suddenly fainted out of nowhere!”

“That boy should give that frog to Neville since he lost his,” I responded.

The boy started, “Oh, I am Neville actually. This is Trevor, he’s already mine.”

This was some sweet news that I was hearing, I couldn’t help but give a large smile, “Oh! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! I wish I was there for that! Sorry I missed it!”

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, hand on my shoulder. I tilted my head in thought. What was she talking about? I was clearly not! Only half of me was right. The other half was left.

Oh no, I left half of me! I hope I didn’t leave anything else.

I felt my hat slipping off my head. I definitely did not want to leave that as well, so I righted it back up.

The hat’s interior jostled my antennae and I felt some background static fade away. The sudden clarity was jarring, I didn't even notice that my thoughts were being all muddled up! My face flushed a little. Thank goodness I didn't vocalize too many of my thoughts, I probably would have made a fool of myself otherwise.

Whatever Hogwarts did with electronics, something in my head was able to get around it somehow. Good thing too, Hermione would have kept having a really bad time otherwise. Not to mention a teacher would have been called! Some sort of diagnostic spell would have been cast, I would have been found out, and then probably taken apart or thrown away or something. 

Heh… that… would have been bad.

Also, what the hell was that!? Did I just dream??

I kept a hold on my internal freak out. I would have loved to obsess over that little event right now, but I had two preteens looking over me in worry and that was something I probably had to address first. And now I had to BS a reason for why I fainted.

Uuaah, I just wanna go to school!

“Um, yeah, sorry. Went a bit loopy there. It’s been a while since I ate, I should be good once I get some food in me!” What I said was mostly the truth too! Can’t catch me in a lie if I don’t lie! I just have to not mention that I went through the magical equivalent of storing a box of magnets next to a box of hard drives.

Speaking of hard drives, I was somewhat hoping there was a brain made out of meat still in my noggin. I wasn’t going to crack my skull open to find out, but it feels like my thoughts are running on hardware after all.

Oh god, I probably should stay away from magnets, shouldn’t I? 

Accepting Neville’s offered hand, I pulled myself back up onto my feet. I was feeling alright now, but he kept a hand steady on my back in case I suddenly tipped over. “How long has it been since you ate something?”

“I had some ice cream yesterday,” I answered, immediately wondering if that’s something I should have admitted to. Neville and Hermione gave each other a look.

“I can help you off the train,” Neville said, chivalrously. “You only have to make it down to the lake. After that it’ll be a short boat ride to the castle.”

“The sorting ceremony is also done in alphabetical order. You shouldn’t have to stand too long with a name like Advena,” Hermione piped up as she helped support me on my other side. “There will be plenty to eat once you're sorted into your house.”

They’re doting on me, which is nice but a little embarrassing. Should I tell them to stop? I did pass out in front of Hermione for a while. How long was I out for? It’d be weird if I was at one hundred percent health after waking up, wouldn’t it? “T-thank you. I’ll make sure to eat a lot.”

“I’ll go speak to Hagrid. He can keep an eye on you while the first years make their way to the castle. We don’t want you fainting into the lake,” Hermione gently let go and headed towards the exit ahead of Neville and I.

“Oh, no, that’s al…” I was about to insist on being fine. I had a feeling that I was not going to black out any more. I should be able to make it to the castle on my own from here but there she went and added that line about fainting into the lake.

I had yet to take anything resembling a bath and I realized I didn’t know if I was waterproof. If I were to suddenly… disconnect while standing up on a boat in the middle of a lake I would probably find out if I was or not very quickly. Having a half giant looking out for me could help avoid that. I resigned myself to their help. It’s not like I really needed it, I was just being careful. It’s just a bit of extra help. “O-okay, that’s fine.”

They led me out of the compartment and towards the exit. I pointed back at our luggage. “Uh…”

“No need to worry,” Neville told me, “The house elves will take care of the luggage. They’ll bring it to whatever house you’re sorted into along with your luggage back with Harry and Ron. Stella, right?” I nodded. “Alright, let’s go.” I was uncomfortable leaving what was essentially almost everything I owned behind, but I trusted Neville. The books vouched for him, after all.

He led me out onto the station. It was dark out, at least for a few seconds before that snow of static overtook my vision for a split second. Afterwards I could see much easier, though there was a green tinge over everything. I wasn’t even surprised about this.

Most of the students were already making their way off the station and into the distance. Several younger students asked the older ones questions before either following them or heading back with the other young kids. Confused first and second years from the look of things.

Neville led me off to the crowd of younger kids. His hand was still on me, and I was beginning to feel the shame of someone faking a disability for attention. “I’m good enough to walk on my own, you know,” I said. 

He looked me over, scanning me for weakness. “If you’re sure,” he answered. He took his hand off my shoulder, then held his arm out for me, “I still want to take you to Hagrid to be sure, though. Would you mind if I offered an arm?”

What a knight in shining armor. A good runner up for the title of Boy Who Lived, I thought to myself. “Nah, I wouldn’t mind that much. Thanks!”

Up ahead Hermione was talking to the largest man I had ever seen. I was just barely able to hear the word ‘anemic’ be brought up, but I paid it no attention. My eyes were drawn to Rubeus Hagrid.

I knew he was big, but in person he was for all intents and purposes a walking MOUNTAIN! I could stack another me on my shoulders and we would be just tall enough to stack a third Stella to just barely reach his height! I was tall enough that if I wanted to I could headbutt his kneecap!

 He nodded at whatever Hermione was telling her before he turned to face the crowd. “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” his voice bellowed across the station. All of the younger students turned to look in his direction. Rather than let me walk the rest of the way and go to follow the older students, Neville took me straight to Hagrid. A head full of beard turned to look down at me, regarding me with the soft eyes one would reserve for an adorable chihuahua. “This the lass?” he asked.

“Yes sir, she is,” Neville handed me over to Hagrid, who suddenly bent down and scooped me up with one of his arms. I let out a small ‘eep’ of surprise at that.

“Don’ yeh worry, I’ll get yeh ter Hogwarts safe an’ sound,” I could make out his smile behind his big bushy beard. It was big enough that I felt like I could have crawled in there to hide if I wanted to. Part of me wanted to do just that, considering I was being carried like a baby in front of all my future peers.

“Uuaah,” I looked at all the mini witches and wizards gathered all around, my face heating up. They all looked back. The oversized robes did nothing to help me escape the baby allegations.

“Any more firs’ years?” He asked. I could see his eyes scan over the crowd, counting all the students under his breath. He gave a soft nod of satisfaction before his eyes darted to me, widening a bit.  A brief flash of confusion flashed over his eyes before he started counting again. “Hrrrm, one extra firs' year this time around. Goin' ter have ter ask Professor McGonagall 'bout that.”

Huh. I wonder if I should worry about that.

I decided not to.

“Alright, follow me an’ watch yer step!” He waved and turned, leading us all downhill into the woods. Neville and Hermione waved goodbye at me. They waited until I waved back before they turned and jogged to catch up with the other older students.

With my night vision, I could almost make out the top of the castle over the forest from my spot in Hagrid’s arms. With a thought, I flicked a mental switch and turned off my night vision.

A few more flicked switches and the rest of my HUD turned off as well. Robot eyes are cool, don’t get me wrong. It is very, very handy being able to see everything clearer than a normal human eye could see, but I was about to see a real life magic castle! Having a clock and minimap and wand menu and whatever would be distracting. I may be something that crawled out of a science fiction story, but I could not help myself. I loved fantasy.

I wanted to see Hogwarts purely with my own eyes.

Chapter Text

I was tempted to turn the night vision back on once I remembered that the dark is freaking terrifying, but I held strong and went in blind like everyone else. I had an easier time of it since unlike everyone else Hagrid was doing most of the actual walking in the dark for me.

“Are yeh doin’ alright? Stella was it?” I gave him a nod. “D'you think yeh'll be okay ter ride on the boat?”

“Yeah, the boat shouldn’t be a problem. I can walk to the lake from here, actually. Neville and Hermione were just worried about me is all.” Everyone had been walking for long enough that I figured we were close enough to the boats by now for Hagrid to be comfortable enough to let me walk. I didn’t want everyone to assume I was a sickly child too weak to walk from class to class. Some of them probably already think that from overhearing whatever Hermione said to Hagrid, and letting Hagrid carry me the whole way would confirm that.

Also I don’t want to be teased and made fun of for being carried like a baby.

I didn’t give Hagrid a chance to reassure me that he would be fine carrying me the rest of the way. That’s most likely what he was about to say when he was opening his mouth to speak, so I started to wriggle in place. Understanding my desires, he gently lowered me down and let me set my feet on the ground in front of him. “Alright, there yeh go. Careful where yeh walk, yeh wouldn' wan' ter fall.” He turns to the rest of the first years, “Tha' goes fer all o' yeh.”

Giving a thumbs up to show that I heard him, I followed along with the rest of the kids. I looked around to see if I could recognize anyone. There were a few students I ran into when I was walking through the train, including the lone girl in that compartment I entered through. She had what looked like light brown hair, I think? She was still holding her magazine and was still looking at me with that shocked expression. I think I probably made a weird first impression. Wow, those eyes could stare right into one’s soul.

I tripped on my oversized robe and planted my face in the dirt.

“Are yeh sure yeh're alright?” asked Hagrid from further on ahead.

“M’okay!” I called from the dirt. Pushing myself up and wiping the dirt off my face, I spotted someone else looking at me. Well, everyone was looking at me, I just faceplanted in front of them, but there was one specific person who drew my attention. This one person was the only ginger I could see in the crowd!

Ginevra Weasley, the owner of a very special diary. Without prompting, my vision zoomed into her and looked her up and down. Going along with it, I searched for any book shaped objects she could be carrying. Her hands were empty and there seemed to be nothing hidden under her clothes. It was probably in her trunk, being brought to the castle by the house elves.

That diary. I should probably get a hold of it, shouldn’t I? I thought.

She isn’t being weirded out by my staring, is she? She probably was.

I got back up and started looking ahead, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Ignoring some murmurs, I walked alongside everyone else, taking care not to trip over the robe again. Everyone was maintaining a polite fiction that they didn’t just see me eat dirt. Save the few little snot nosed brats that were giggling on the other side of the crowd.

We made it to the lakeside shortly after. I could feel the awe from the students all around me as we all looked across the lake to the place we would call home for the next seven years. The soft voices of the students around me picked up as they quietly talked to each other, too caught up in the whimsy to let their own excitement ruin the moment. Everyone wanted to take this memory in, and I would have as well if I saw anything but a dilapidated ruin in front of me. But by now I was sure that I could fix this.

I wiggled my antennae.

The static snow came and went and it was like the ruins had suddenly fixed themselves.

The awestruck smile on my face probably matched every other kid around me as I got my first view of the castle. Opposite the lake, the warm lights from the windows glowed across the lake. The reflection gave it a dignified presence more than worthy of a place named after warts and hogs. It was like a castle floating in space, surrounded by stars. The oohing and aahing was getting louder, and my own excitement was joining theirs. “This is so cool,” I say to myself.

“It sure is!” click-FLASH. The moment was ruined momentarily as we all turned to see a kid who brought a camera with him. There was an unspoken sense of ‘what the heck are you doing’ in the air. He didn’t seem to notice it.

I went back to staring at the castle. The kid probably had a right enough idea. A red dot had appeared with the word ‘REC’ next to it. Hopefully this recorded memory is as good as what I saw in front of me. If not, I could probably scrounge up some money somehow and ask to buy a copy of the photo from the kid next to me. The picture would probably move too!

There were several boats waiting for us on the shore. Hagrid gestured towards them as we approached. “Alright ev'ryone, four ter a boat! Careful not ter fall in,” he looked towards me as he said that.

Lifting the front of my robes like a ballroom dress, I carefully stepped onto the boat. I hadn’t had any nautical experience before, so I panicked a bit when the boat started tipping over a bit. With a yelp, I threw myself down and tried my best to steady the rocking. “Don’t be such a baby,” said a girl that hopped in after me, causing the boat to rock again and making my heart rate skyrocket. “It’s only a foot deep up here.”

I looked over the edge to confirm what she said. The water didn’t look that deep, but I didn’t wanna risk taking a dip in the water when I wasn’t sure how waterproof I was. It felt like some alarms were screaming inside my head! Without my notice or prompting, several systems seemed to have popped in my HUD. A moisture meter, a scan of the boat’s integrity, some sort of gyro to make sure the boat is level.

WARNING: WATER DETECTED. DO NOT SUBMERGE

Also that.

“Um, I don’t wanna get this robe wet. It’s not mine,” it was as good an excuse as any. Better than admitting I was more terrified here than when I was a mile up in the sky. The excuse also did more work towards not making me sound like a scaredy cat.

The girl gave a scoff, “Sure,” she said, probably having settled on the scaredy cat explanation anyways. She was followed by two boys who also rocked the boat. I just sat on the floor of the boat, only climbing up onto the seat once the rocking stopped.

“Everybody ready?” Hagrid called. Once all the students were off the shore, he pointed towards the castle. “FORWARD!” The boats drifted towards deeper waters, as if pulled by a magnetic force towards the castle. Thankfully they were more steady as they moved, rocking less than when they were docked. I allowed myself to relax a little, but still kept a firm grip on the edge of the boat.

We spent the first minute silent. They were silently appreciating Hogwarts’s majesty while I was busy not moving or looking down into the water. The boats weren’t the fastest, so everyone was getting their fill of the majesty that was Hogwarts Castle. There was only so long that kids could go before they got bored and while everyone saw the castle as awesome, in the sense that it inspired awe, it wasn’t long before conversations started popping up here and there.

“So… my name’s Emilio Cortes,” one of the boys, one with brown hair, piped up. “What are your names?”

“That name’s not from around here, is it?” asked the other boy. “Spain?” I elected to keep still and quiet and let them talk everything out while I focused on not falling overboard. The boats weren’t rocking, BUT THEY COULD.

“Yeah, my family moved over from Madrid a few months ago. I like it here, but I’m look forward to taking the floo back on the holidays to visit family. And what about you? What’s your name?”

“Uh, my name?” Some hints of reluctance fell upon him. “Yeah, it’s… Harry Black.” Both Emilio and the girl turned to look at him in surprise. “No relation!” he immediately spoke up in a defensive rush, “To either of them! Both are perfectly ordinary muggle names!”

The girl scoffed, “Ah. Of course. You do know the kinds of looks that name’s gonna get you, right?”

He groaned, “I get it. It’s not like my parents named me like that on purpose. I didn’t even know the names were famous until a few months ago!”

The girl’s nose scrunched up a bit. The look on her face gave me little motivation to associate with her in the future. “Please. No one could possibly think you’re a Black.”

Both Emilio and I looked at Harry. We were both thinking it. He definitely had African ancestry. I couldn’t tell what this girl said that offended him, but it was more than likely several things. As if noticing that she had put her foot in her mouth, she crossed her arms and turned away to look towards the lake.

“Uh…” Emilio decided to ignore the girl for now and turned to me, “What about you?”

“Ah!” I said, excited at the second chance to make a better impression. I let go of the boat and sat upright, “My name is Stella Advena! Pleased to meet you!” I attempted to take a bow while still seated. The boat suddenly tilted a bit, and my hands rushed back to the edges ruining my flourish.

“You okay?” Harry asked.

“Can’t swim,” I confessed. I knew how to do so in theory, the motions came to mind, but I doubt it would be safe to try as I am now. “Looking forward to getting back on dry land.”

Harry gave a small ‘ah’ in understanding. “I can’t imagine you’re enjoying this. Well, I’m from London. What about you?”

I smiled at the distraction. I started formulating an answer, but found it hard to do so. I didn’t mind sharing this information, I just needed to say what country or city I was from. Gotta keep the robot bits a secret, but it would be nice to share things about myself. The problem was that I had just now realized that I had no idea what said country or city were.

I definitely knew that I had some sort of life before walking up in that dumpster. I just kept drawing a blank whenever I tried to think of it. I tried bringing up some other memories to mind hoping I could get a hint there, but I was also drawing a blank there too.

Here comes that existential dread again!

At least I had my discomfort of being on a boat to cover the panic that was building again. I was hoping it wouldn’t become a daily thing. But yeah, nothing was popping up when I tried to think of what I was doing before I woke up as a robot. I know I didn't always have this body, it was absolutely something new to me. But a lot of my personal memories were blank.

What even was my real name? What did I look like before? How old was I actually?

Oh, Emelio and Harry were still looking at me, waiting for an answer. “Uh…” I pushed those thoughts in the same dark, little box of panic I've been stuffing everything in. Now wasn’t the time to deal with that. That time was in the future. Hopefully in the far future. For now I just needed to say a place. “Nevada.”

It happened to be the first place that I could think of on short notice.

“Oh, so you're not English either?” Emilio perked up. “I didn’t think I’d see an American here, but I guess others aren’t expecting a Spaniard?”

“You must have been here for a while. Long enough for you to lose your accent, at least. You didn’t sound American,” Harry crossed his arms and nodded his head as if he had just solved a mystery. Pretty sure he was wrong though. I don’t think I’ve been in England that long. But also, what? I didn’t sound American?

I don't have an American accent? Have I been speaking in a British accent this whole time? I was considering faking one a while back to blend in, but figured it’d be a bother to keep up. Apparently my accent disagreed. Huh. Was I even an American?

“Y-yeah, it's been a while! I pretty much went to Kings Cross on foot since I was already in the area,” I stuck to my ever evolving cover story. Well I’m American now.

At last, everyone's eyes turned to the other girl. She turned her head to look back at us and gave another scoff. It's like it was all she knew how to do. “It's Karyn with a y. Upper Flagley.”

We quietly waited for her to elaborate, but that was all she was willing to say, it looked like. The silence was slowly getting awkward again. Emilio’s leg fidgeted as we all sat on the boat waiting to get to the castle.

“So…” started Emilio, “Nice hat?”

“Thanks. I'm a magician.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Nevada,” Harry nodded.

“What about Nevada?” Emilio asked.

“Vegas is there. Wizards there probably just dress that way. Right Stella?”

I had no idea. I wasn’t even thinking about Vegas, but I sure hoped the wizards there did because I had just put myself on the spot apparently. I want to say yes but I also don’t want to be fact checked by a student who vacationed in the states during the holidays. I could make something up, or say something that would kick the can down the road for a while longer.

He was still looking at me for an answer and there was only so long my silence could be blamed on discomfort while over water. I was looking for an appropriate non answer I could give to Harry but was thankfully saved from having to navigate a simple question by Harry.

Saved from Harry as in Harry Black by Harry as in Harry Potter, I meant.

As in the flying Ford Anglia that had suddenly crashed into the lake, interrupting every ongoing conversation and sending a decently sized wave towards the first year boats.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” screamed Karyn and I concurred as I held on to the boat for dear life. Like, seriously, holy mother of butterflies what the heck happened for Harry and Ron to crash into the lake instead of the tree!?

“UUUUUUUUAAAAAAAHHHHH!!” I screamed as gravity dragged me to the starboard side of the boat. In hindsight I probably didn’t hit the side of the boat hard enough to almost splinter through it and into the water, but in my mind that’s what it felt like.

“Calm down, calm down! Is ev'ryone okay? No one fell inter the lake, did they?” Hagrid’s voice bellowed over the sound of screaming children. The waves had settled and his voice was doing a decent job at bringing some order to the panic. Several voices answered back that they were okay while several others kept talking using the same colorful language Karyn used.

“Dang, what was that?” Boat Harry wondered aloud. “Are flying cars common?”

“No!” answered Karyn loudly, “No, muggle cars don’t normally fly! Wizards don’t need cars!”

“Aw, I was hoping that was a British thing. We don’t have them in Spain either,” Emelio piped up. “I wonder where that car came from?”

“Harry Potter was in that car,” I mentioned. “His friend Ron was driving it.”

“Harry Potter was in that car?” Karyn asked excitedly. She, like the rest of us, turned to look back at the Ford Anglia. It was mostly submerged in the lake.

“Oh no!” Emilio stood up, rocking the boat a bit to my discomfort, “Excuse me, sir!” He waved to get Hagrid’s attention. Once he got it, he yelled loud enough for him to hear clearly, “Harry Potter is in that sinking car!”

“Wha'!? Harry is in there!? Tha's no good! Tha's no good at all!” The boats resumed their journey to the castle while Hagrid’s boat split from the group to head towards the sinking car. “Yeh lot let professor McGonagall know tha' I got held up a bit! She's waiting at the top o' the stairs an' is ready ter lead yeh ter the main hall ter get sorted! Let her know I'll be by shortly!”

It probably wasn’t often that a boat full of first years docked at Hogwarts with all their backs turned to the castle. Everyone was looking towards the lake by the time we stopped, more interested in Hagrid’s attempts to save the two boys from a sinking car than the dry land I immediately crawled onto.

Most of us just sat there for a few minutes, watching Hagrid try to coax the giant squid into gently bringing the waterlogged automobile it was holding aloft to shore. He seemed to be making good progress, but it was obviously going to take a while. Eventually a few students got bored and started heading towards the door to the castle, myself included.

I had finally made it to Hogwarts. It ended up being a LOT more exciting than I had originally thought it would be. Hopefully that would be all the excitement for today and there wouldn’t be any more surprises in store.

Chapter Text

Knock knock knock.

Hagrid was probably better at this part. Our weak, little first year fists were hardly making a loud enough knock on the large, oak door. Not that I tried yet, I’ve just been watching all the kids try. It hadn’t been that long since we got to the top of the stairs and tried to get the attention of whoever was on the other side of the door. What we needed was a good, strong strike that would be loud enough.

I glanced down at my fist. My hand was strong enough to hold on to the bumper of a car for several hours. The car’s bumper gave out before my hand did. I could probably swing my arm hard enough to make a loud enough knock to alert Professor McGonagall. Though looking around I was starting to realize that I was the shortest one here. All the other first years were at minimum an inch taller than I was. The oversized robes also made me appear even smaller, so maybe they would find it weird if I were to knock on the door with the force of a giant. I could probably blame it on accidental magic, though. That’s probably what-

“OUTTA THE WAY!!” A particularly large first year sprinted from the stairs to the entrance, jumping up into the air and slamming both feet to the door. He fell to the floor after making a loud SLAM that could probably be heard all the way to the entrance hall.

The door opened at once to a tall, confused witch. “Hagrid?” Professor McGonagall looked around trying to spot our initial guide. Spotting only future students standing around and a child on the floor who would most likely be sorted into Gryffindor within the hour, her face grew a little more stern than it already was. “What are you doing on the floor? Get up this instant!”

Once the boy got back up, McGonagall placed her hands on her hips, “Can someone tell me what is going on? Where’s Hagrid?”

“Hagrid told us to tell you he would be held up!” “The giant guy said you’d take us to get sorted!” “There was a car crash! Hagrid stopped to help, he’s nice!” “Are we going to fight a troll? My older brother said some students fought a troll last year!” “I’m a magician!” “I think Harry Potter is sinking in the lake!” “Are you Professor McGonagall? Hagrid said to find you!” “Bigass squid!” “Will we be able to get Lockhart’s autograph?” “I wanna be in Ravenclaw!” said everyone at once.

Professor McGonagall brought her hands together in a loud clap. Everyone went silent and listened to what she had to say. “I believe I’ve gotten the gist of the situation. We shall proceed towards the main hall, Hagrid should be able to handle the situation. No need to fret about Mr. Potter, I can assure you all that he will be fine. Now, is everybody here?” McGonagall’s eyes skimmed the crowd of first years, mentally tallying everyone up. She gave a nod of satisfaction and turned towards the entrance.

“Everyone seems to be accounted for. Follow me,” she said. She began leading the way deeper into the castle. Eager to be sorted, I made my way towards the front of the crowd.

“Hey, no cutting!” said another kid. The large one with the powerful flying kick.

“They’re gonna call us in alphabetical order, so it doesn’t matter who’s at the front. My last name’s Advena, so I’m probably gonna be called first anyways,” I explain, turning to look back at him. I looked past him towards the entrance and got a good view of all the other students crossing into the entrance after me.

I could see Ginny hanging towards the back, as well as the kid who took a picture of the castle. He was definitely Colin Creevey, he had his camera held in his hands still. I could also see that there was another kid who was just now getting to the top of the stairs from the port. She looked to have strolled to the top at her own leisurely pace. It was the girl from the train compartment with light brown hair, though now with the lighting of the torches I could see that it would be more accurate to call her a dirty blonde. Hey, wait a minute… That girl…

Professor McGonagall didn’t count her, did she?

Her eyes seemed to be scanning the crowd for someone.

I was jarred out of my own thoughts as the large kid bumped me out of his way and went ahead of me. “Well my last name is Aardvark!” He bragged.

“Aardvark? It is totally not!” I denied. Said denial fell on deaf ears as the alleged ‘Mr. Aardvark’ kept on walking. I followed with a grumble. I would find out for sure once we were all ready to put on the hat.

The architecture of the castle helped take my mind off of him. The place was so dang majestic! I couldn’t believe that I was gonna be living here for the next several years! Definitely a step up from wherever the heck I lived before this. I couldn’t see the ceiling no matter how far my eyes zoomed in, so I chalked it up to some magic effect.

We walked by a large door with the sounds of hundreds of students on the other side before passing it and entering an adjacent room. A nervous energy was settling over us all, none of us having the urge to pipe up as Professor McGonagall began her little speech.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she began. “The start-of-term banquet is about to begin. There will be a seat for you all, but before you take your place at the table you shall undergo a sorting ceremony. This will determine which house you will belong to. While you are here, your houses shall be your closest friends and something like a second family. You shall live together in the same dormitory and grow close together as you take your classes and spend your free time in your common room with each other.

“The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each one has a rich and noble history, and you will not be finding yourselves without witches and wizards with which to aspire to. There will be house points which shall be awarded for your accomplishments, as well as deducted for your reprimands. At the end of the year, the points shall be tallied up and the house with the most points shall be awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope that each and every one of you is a credit to the houses that you will come to call home.

“Now, smarten yourselves up. The sorting shall take place in a few minutes in front of the whole school,” She mostly looked at the dusty Mr. Aardvark, but gave a bit of a side eye to me and my oversized robes. I like to think my fancy hat kept it from becoming a full on judgemental stare. “I will return in a moment. Please wait here patiently.”

She left the chamber and the crowd of kids started to quietly whisper amongst themselves.

“What do you think the sorting will be like?” asked Emilio.

“I heard a rumor from one of the older students that you have to wrestle a troll to get sorted!” spoke a girl in worry.

“Nah, there’s no way they’d make us fight a troll. Our parents would flip!” spoke a boy.

I spoke up to add fuel to the rumor. “From what I hear, there was a troll here at Hogwarts last year. Harry Potter and his friends knocked it the heck out!” I wasn’t even lying either. “I heard it from a girl called Hermionie who is one of Harry’s best friends, so it’s got to be true!”

“There’s no way you learned that from one of the best friends of the Boy Who Lived,” said Karyn. I frowned at her, but before I could snap back she gave a shriek and jumped back. Like a wave, everyone turned towards a nearby wall and either screamed, jumped, or stared with wide eyes. I turned to see what everyone was looking at and widened my own eyes as well.

There on the wall was a portrait of the largest, buffest wizard I had ever seen. He looked like he could snap a tree trunk with his strength alone! This guy clearly didn’t need magic, all he needed to do was to cast fist! In his hands he held some heavy looking dumbbells. He was eyeing us all as he kept pumping iron. His muscles paired with his magic would make him a force to be-

Static filled my vision and when it faded I was surrounded by ghosts. Oh, they were screaming about that.

“-last year with that annoying little polter-oh! It must be that time of year again! My, how time has flown,” spoke an aristocratic looking ghost in a ruff and tights. His friendly smile helped in making the students forget they were talking to a dead guy. Following along with what I was sure was Nearly Headless Nick was an entourage of ghosts. There was enough of a ghostly crowd that I was pretty sure they came here to purposefully introduce themselves before McGonagall returned to collect us. They probably saw this as their chance to get some frights in before the students got used to them all. The Bloody Baron would presumably hog all the ongoing scares for the rest of the year.

Once things calmed down, a few of the more daring students spread out to chat with the ghosts. I paced around the room, more interested in looking at all the different ghosts and eavesdropping on conversations. Harry, our Harry, was talking to the Fat Friar while Mr. Aardvark spoke to Nearly Headless Nick. Nick did the whole ‘almost pull his head off’ thing and caused the boy to flinch. Emilio was chatting up another ghost that was dressed like a matador with a suspiciously horn sized hole where his heart would have been. Emilio was animatedly talking to him in another language, excited that he found someone who he could talk to in his native tongue.

All sound suddenly cut out. No one seemed to notice. I stuck a finger in my ear, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. I got some audio back but all I could hear was some staticky white noise. It didn’t last long before it faded and I could hear again.

“-hurt at the time, but I never regretted it. It brought food to my family’s table and brought me fame and fortune,” the matador said.

“It sounds cool! Though I would never do it myself, I don’t think I’d ever build up the nerve. People have been speaking up about how it’s cruel to the bulls too,” Emilio answered. I had no idea when it happened, but they had switched to English at some point apparently.

They spoke for a little longer before Emilio waved goodbye and started making his way back to the crowd. He stopped near me, so I decided to chat. Maybe see if I could change that first impression that’s been snowballing out of my control since I passed out on the train. “That guy was a Spaniard, right? It must be awesome to find someone from your homeland here in Hogwarts!”

Emilio’s head turned towards me with such force I was afraid his head was about to snap right off. The surprised look on his face quickly morphed into a huge smile. “Yeah it is! I was a little worried that I was going to have to let my Spanish get rusty. I still can write letters to my parents or speak with them through the floo, but finding other Spanish speakers here at Hogwarts is so much better!”

“I’m happy for you, dude!” I give him a thumbs up. “Heck, maybe you’ll find more people to speak with!”

Before we could keep the conversation going, McGonagall reentered the room and addressed us all. “Alright now, everybody form a line. The sorting ceremony is about to start.”

The ghosts left the room as we lined up in front of her with nervous excitement, a line of ducklings eager to get to their new home. We followed her through a set of double doors and into the Great Hall. It was like every room had a certain ‘majestic’ standard it needed to pass before people were allowed inside, and the Great Hall had easily passed it. Just as expected, the Hall looked like it had no ceiling. The walls seamlessly shifted from ancient brickwork and torches into the darkness and stars of the night sky. Down at floor level were the long dinner tables for students and teachers filled with expensive looking silverware.

I scanned the crowd and spotted the Gryffindor table by looking for a second year girl with bushy hair. It took longer than expected, I wasn’t expecting everyone to be wearing pointy hats. None of the first years were wearing one, but I guess we needed our heads bare since we were going to be sharing one. Once I found Hermione I waved my hand wildly in the air until she spotted me and waved back.

Up on the table were another cast of easily recognizable characters. There was the Herbology Professor, Pomona Sprout! The Divination Professor, Sybill Trelawney! The History of Magic Professor, Something Binns! The Charms Professor, Filius-

Any goblin can see plain as day what you are.

-T-t-the Care of Magical Creatures Professor! No idea what his name was and it’s not like it’ll matter. Hagrid’ll take over next year. The transfiguration seat was empty since McGonagall was right here placing a stool down next to us. The potions seat was empty too. He must be closing in on Ron and Harry’s current location as we speak. At least Hagrid’s there with them, I guess?

And of course, the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart! He was lounging in his chair, posed to appear like the most confident man in the world. His hair was carefully maintained to capture the largest amount of his target audience. His clothing was tailored to support his preconceived narrative. He was a fraud, but darn was he a Genuine Fraud. It was like I could see the character from his books sitting in front of me! I could not help but join in the hushed whispers coming from a good portion of the first year girls waiting in line.

I kinda looked forward to learning from him.

At the center of the table was Dumbledore! He looked old and wise, and I liked his beard and clothes. He had that approachable look that you would see on either loving grandfathers or Santa Claus. He was smiling towards the incoming first years, though around half of our attention was aimed towards Lockhart.

And then the hat was brought out. It looked ooooold. I would say it needed a wash, but doing so would probably cause its stitching to dissolve in the water. It was placed on the stool then sat there for a while. A rip near the brim opened into a mouth and the hat began to sing.

“It’s sorting time, it’s sorting time, it’s time to find a dorm!

So hear this rhyme! It’d be a crime to study in poor form!

I'm here to help you little whelps, so place me on your head!”

The song was surprisingly catchy, and I was impressed that it kept that rhyming scheme throughout the entire song. Though it did have a whole year to come up with it. There was probably a lot of revising and editing that went behind the scenes. I couldn’t imagine having to think up a whole song that way, I’d give up after the first two or three lines if I were the hat.

Professor McGonagall stepped up with a rolled up parchment. “I will now be calling out your names. When called, walk up and place the hat on your head while sitting on the stool,” she explained. I readied myself to walk up to the stool. “Aardvark, Barnaby!”

I gave said boy the stink eye as he walked past me with a smug grin on his face. He walked up to the stool and put the hat on before sitting down. It wasn’t even three seconds until the hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” Said table erupted in cheers at having the first student of the sorting ceremony. Like it was an achievement to get a kid whose last name is first in the dictionary. Oh well, he won this imaginary race to be the first to the hat. It’s not like it even mattered. I adjusted my robes to make sure I wouldn’t trip over them on the way to the stool.

“Acres, Elsie!” Oh come one, Advena’s not even second on the list? Uuah! Guess I’ll settle for the bronze medal in sorting. After a longer wait, the hat announced that Elise was going to “SLYTHERIN!” My leg was bouncing in restlessness. Even if there was a third kid who came before me in the alphabet I shouldn’t have to wait long. But no, that turned out to be all the ‘A’ students ahead of me, as Professor McGonagall announced the next student.

“Black, Harry!”

I took a step then stopped. It took me a split second to register what just happened. At first I couldn’t help but think, Again? Ugh, I guess I can go fourth. Then the realization hit that I should have gone before him. A hush fell across the hall as my heart dropped. Did I get skipped? I should have gone before him, shouldn’t I have? Murmurs spread across the hall. It was like they knew something was wrong. Something was weird. That I should have been called up next, not him.

“No relation!” Harry yelled as he walked to the stool. I didn’t pay much attention to the following sortings, though I did note that Harry and Emilio were both sorted to Hufflepuff. I was once again entering that panic zone where things were not going according to plan. I wasn’t even looking at the students anymore, my eyes focused on the rolled up parchment the Professor was holding. She read the names and the hat sorted as she got closer and closer to the end without calling me.

“Creevey, Colin!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Lovegood, Luna!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Weasley, Ginerva!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Withawhy, Karen!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

And just like that, I was standing on my own. Professor McGonagall looked at me and then back to the list. “I’m sorry, but there seems to have been a mistake. Did you not go up when your name was heard?”

“Uuuh, I didn’t hear my name called yet.”

“Hmm. What is your name, Miss…?”

“My name is Stella. Stella Advena.”

A confused look passed Professor McGonagall’s face. “...Advena? I don’t seem to recall any letter being sent out under that name. Are you sure you should be here?”

“Y-yeah. I had a letter and everything.”

“Ms. Advena, are you sure the letter was legitimate? You wouldn’t happen to have this letter on you, would you?”

The letter was probably in a trash bin back at Gringott’s right now. “N-no ma’am, I don’t have the letter on me.”

“Hmm,” she looked deep in thought. “I most certainly didn’t sign any letter for a Ms. Advena. I never received a response letter either.” A jolt went up my spine. The image of my Hogwarts letter popped up in my mind.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

There must have been some sort of heart pump simulator thing somewhere deep in my chest because it was going crazy with panic right now. I was supposed to send a response!? But I don’t have an owl!! I couldn’t get kicked out now! I had just made it to the Great Hall! I fell a mile from the sky to get to that train! Was it all for nothing because I didn’t fill out any paperwork!? I was only awake for, like, a day!

I had no idea what I was supposed to do now. Neither did McGonagall, it looked like. She turned to face the staff table, raising an eyebrow at the wizened old wizard sitting at the center. Albus Dumbledore, with his fantastic beard and eclectic robes, stroked his chin in thought. “This is certainly unusual. We have had young witches and wizards try and attend classes early. None have made it this far, so you certainly have my commendations for that Ms. Advena. If I may ask, how old are you?”

“Eleven?” I flinched at my tone. I wasn’t supposed to sound unsure.

Professor McGonagall looked down at me. Her eyes were measuring me up and down, with less emphasis on the ‘up.’ I didn’t know how old this body actually was, but I supposed it wouldn’t matter for a robot. As for how old I was before this, I was pretty sure I was over eleven. I definitely wasn’t this short in the past. “Are you certain?” she asked. I wondered to myself if it would be weird for an eleven year old girl to wear heels.

“All we have to go on is her word, Minerva,” Dumbledore spoke up. “I am sure that we can come to an answer if we try, it may take a while however.” His eyes looked towards me as he contemplated what to do. “We could discuss this, but it would delay the feast. The students must be hungry and probably want to get this over with. Perhaps we could take this to my office while the feast is underway?”

The sorting hat’s laughter echoed throughout the Great Hall. “Or perhaps you should leave the question of who can attend Hogwarts to me?” Spoke the hat for all to hear. “It is what I was made for, after all.” 

“But all the names on the parchment have been called,” Professor McGonagall questioned. “Every student whose letter I signed for has been accounted for.”

“Feh, I would know nothing about that. Letter or no letter, I have one more student left to sort. Her name IS in the Book of Admittance.”

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged a look before turning back to me. I had a feeling I was going to stand out, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be this much and this soon. Dumbledore spoke up, “Yes, well, that is something to look into. But the sorting hat is the most qualified to judge what should be done in this situation. I shall defer to its judgement, there will be one more sorting. Ms. Advena, if you please.”

Whaaaat’s going on? I was willing not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but that was weird, right? I DID have that letter on me and I wish I hadn’t left it back at the bank. I didn’t expect to need it though! Heck, I doubt any of the other students brought theirs with them! A lot of parents probably had theirs framed and hanging on a wall somewhere in their homes. And what was this about a book? It’s got my name on it? How do names get on it? Aaaaaaaagh! Go in the box of panic, you thoughts! I don’t wanna deal with you right now! Don’t hesitate Stella, get on that stool and lock in your Hogwarts admittance! I stopped thinking about it for now. Instead I walked up to the stool and sat on it, holding the sorting hat in my hands.

And now everyone was looking at me. While I was already wearing a hat. I wiggled my antennae under it. This was a problem I probably should have thought about earlier. Now how was I going to do this?

I wiggled my antennae. They were telescopic, I recalled. I tried retreating them into my head. They made decent progress, though they stopped a little short of my skull. I reached a hand into my hat and ruffled my hair a bit. Hopefully that hid them a bit better, but I wasn’t feeling too comfortable doing this. The static snow was slowly starting to creep into my vision along with a slowly increasing white noise.

In a flash, I took my top hat off and threw on the sorting hat as quickly as I could. Once it was on, my antennae shot back out. They may have given the hat a little stab on the way up, but they didn’t penetrate the fabric thankfully. I could have been careful, but my antennae NEEDED to be out! It wasn’t for long, but the encroaching static was making me nervous.

“Ms. Advena, please be gentle with the sorting hat!” Professor McGonagall sounded a little cross with me. Though it does look like she was too focused on the hat to notice anything weird about me. I felt relieved at that, I didn’t blow it!

Now I just needed to get through the sorting without tipping off the hat that I was a robot! Hopefully I had enough control of my thoughts that I could keep that fact hidden. I just needed to stay calm and see if I could navigate a conversation with it. C’mon, Stella, you can do this! Get sorted and keep your secret!

I heard a ringing in my head.

INCOMING CALL: UNKNOWN CALLER

ACCEPT?

Y/N

…

What?

Uh…

Do I answer?

…

The sorting hat wasn’t talking to me…

…

I accepted the call.

“Took you long enough,” spoke the Sorting Hat. “And quit your panicking, I don’t care. You’re here to get sorted and that’s what I will do. Nothing else matters, got it?”

Uuuuh…

“Now, where are we going to put you, little Poppet?”