BOOKS SHARED STORIES, most of them were pure fictional, others were autobiography, and the rest were based on true events. Because Harry Potter was fictional, and a fantasy no less, Wendy never thought any of it would be real. Although, she had to admit that she sometimes wished it were and just like that she was pinching herself in Dumbledore's office, wishing to wake up instead.
The room was quite messy. Books, scrolls, and other things Wendy couldn't even begin to understand laying around like Diego's toys, her dog, around the house.
Wendy was still looking around when Dumbledore offered her some candies, which she absentmindedly refused.
"Do you know why you were in the train?" He asked as he sat down on his big chair.
"I was going home from London," She answered truthfully. She still had doubts whether or not all of that was true and if she should be telling them information about herself, but she believed in 'honesty is the best policy'.
"But the train you took was not the same one you left," Professor McGonagall observed. "Malfoy said to have found you in one of the compartments... on the floor," She said, "do you know how you managed to get there?"
Giving it a moment of thought, the last thing Wendy could remember was an odd fit in the stomach as she fell. But she had no memory of how she got in the 'Hogwarts Express' nor in the 'Hospital Wing' of 'Hogwarts'.
"I don't know what has happened to me in the past—uhm," She wasn't even sure how much time has passed from her last memory, or how much time has not passed; if she really got younger. "What date is it today?"
"It's the 2nd of September, 1992," Dumbledore answered solemnly.
Wendy let out a sharp breath. A big weight fell on her chest and her vision blurred as things started spinning around her. It was 2019, how could it be 1992? She was supposed to be two years old that year. What kind of sick joke was this? She searched for a chair to sit on and found one near her; suddenly that piece of candy wasn't a bad idea.
"How old are you, dear?" Professor McGonagall asked putting a hand on her shoulder, as to make her feel a bit more at peace.
"Uh—I'm 29."
Professor McGonagall backed out a little, a clear shocked expression on her slim face, "You don't look a day older than...15?" She glanced at the old man as to search for some support in her statement.
Wendy looked at herself in the mirror she brought with her from the hospital wing. She had the round face she did when she was a teenager, skin not broken yet from any pimples, hair far too long because she insisted that it made her look more mature. Curls fell down on both side of her face framing it, and a slight side bangs that was trying to grow from an overdone bangs phase she had when she was around thirteen, "thirteen, I'm thirteen," She said surely.
The two professors looked at each other. The young girl, with the mind of a woman and the body of a child, lost in time and in a place she didn't know existed. Was she even a witch? Or just an unfortunate muggle that found herself in a wrinkle in time and in the making of a magical war.
"Well, for now, why don't we wait it out?" Professor Dumbledore broke the deafening silence, "We will find ways to bring you back to where you come from but, for now, enjoy Hogwarts."
Wendy looked at him, "Do you mean... Like a student?"
"Why not?" He asked.
"I'm not a witch."
"You are inside the heart of Hogwarts," he said looking at his office, "this place beats magic from its walls—you couldn't be here if you didn't have some of that magic in you too."
Wendy processed the words. Not only she was in a different time, different place she was supposed to be in, in a age that she passed years before, but she also was magical? Unsure on how to react to any of it, she gave an absentminded nod.
"Wonderful!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together, stopping the ring that was starting to form in Wendy's ears. "Let's get back to London to open an account for you in Gringotts and get you what you need."
So many things were not making sense for her. Words like 'gringotts' were still a bit alien even after reading all books of Harry Potter. Even if she knew it was the bank of Wizards and Witches, she felt uneasy using the word now that she knew it wasn't make up and pretend.
Nonetheless, she stood up to get ready for another train ride.
"How long before we get to London? Where even are we?" She asked looking around for a window.
"We're in Scotland, quite far from London, but we can get there much faster," Dumbledore stood offering his hand to the girl.
Wendy eyed the man and his hand, such a medieval act—offering one's hand to walk—but he was an old man, so Wendy took it without thinking what it could lead to.
Out of nowhere, the world spiraled around and she felt herself stretch, de-stretch, pulled left and right, and squeezed all at the same time. She stood still as much as she could, but the odd feelings brought an unpleasant taste in her mouth. It was all a matter of seconds but, somehow, it felt like a handful of minutes. When the stretching feeling calmed, she looked at herself. She looked alright, all her limbs were still there, so she couldn't explain why she felt like that.
As she looked up, she noticed the busy people walking pass her—she was not in Professor Dumbledore's office anymore.
"Welcome to Diagon Ally, the place where you can find all that you need."
"B— wh-where are we?" Wendy gulped down the sickening taste in her mouth.
"Diagon Ally, of course," he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, looking around the beautiful place they were in. "It's been a while since I've came to this part of London."
Wendy shot him a look, "London?!"
"Well yes," he offered her his arm, "now let's get going."
Wendy looked at his arm and, remembering what happened just a while ago, she shook her head and gave him an apologetic smile. She was not going to experience that again. Dumbledore, understanding, pulled his robes and walked into the biggest and whitest building in sight and Wendy followed after him.
"What happened just earlier?" She asked.
"We just Apparated, fastest way to travel in my opinion."
"Couldn't we 'apparate' inside the place where we're going?" she asked, "Saves time."
"Oh no, dear—" he stopped in his place and turned to look at her, "magic is a beautiful gift, but it must not be taken lightly," With head held high, he continued walking before the small and grotesque looking people. "There is a limit to everything—especially magic—remember that, Wendy."
The girl nodded, not sure if he was even looking at her. He was quite old and he looked like the kind of man who chooses his words carefully. Wendy's father was like that, he always called things by their name. Because he turned out to be a great role model, Wend always tried to follow his example, but at the sight of the people inside the big building, Wendy couldn't help herself but wonder—what were those creatures?
One of them stood tall on the tallest table in the room, not really paying attention to anyone else. Clearing his throat, Dumbledore was able to get the little man's attention, who looked down at him, with a face clearly bothered, "Yes?"
"We are here for little Wendy here," Dumbledore replied kindly at the rude man, who elongated himself to see the girl the man was talking about.
"Name," Clearly, he was annoyed, but Wendy couldn't understand the reason to be rude to clients.
Upon closer look, the little man had the most pointy nose and ears. Just like the little helping elves of Santa Clause, but unlike them, he was chubbier and looked less welcoming and friendly. He had fingers long and pointy and covered in wrinkles similar to the ones on his face. The few hair he had were messy at his back. Wendy wasn't sure if these creatures were magical creatures or just the result of working in a bank for far too long.
"Uhm," Wendy hesitated first, "Wendy Moira Angela Stone," She answered after waking up from her thoughts.
The goblin-looking man looked at her from head to toe and grunted. He went back and disappeared from both Dumbledore and Wendy's view. Lost, Wendy looked at Dumbledore for help, and the man just gave her a reassuring smile.
The little man appeared again, but this time he was walking past them motioning them to follow him. He had a strange looking apparatus in his hand and Wendy wondered what it was for.
"Are we really going to need that?" Dumbledore asked.
"You said your name was Wendy Moira Angela Stone?" He turned around not being able to look over his shoulder.
Wendy nodded and the man nodded once, he looked towards his colleagues and gestured them to follow. Professor Dumbledore looked at Wendy and the girl could swear he looked sort of lost too. She was a girl new to the wizarding world. So he wondered why they needed so much precautions for a new vault. But dared not to ask as goblins, as they knew best how to handle the riches beneath them.
Notes
I'm taking this small part of the story to inform you, that I still don't have a complete plot for this story. I don't know the next chapter, I don't know the ending, I don't know who she's gonna end up with (I'm still debating between a few people), nor if she will have a big part in defeating Voldemort. I'm just really telling a story as it forms itself on its own. So if it sounds a bit messy and stuff, please just be patient, I'm new and I don't know half of what I'm doing for most things in my life.
Apart from that, I hope you're enjoying this story so far and thank you for taking time to read this, means a lot!