A New Beginning

Chapter One.

Layla sighed. Today, like every other day, had not gone well. She was incredibly fed up. Well to be more specific she was incredibly fed up with being different. She had always been different for as long as she could remember. She was also fed up with being bullied for being different. And at the age of fifteen she had completely and utterly given up on finding someone like her.

She sat down on her bed and sighed again. The horrible taunts of earlier reverberated around and around in her head.

“Freak.”

“Weirdo.”

“Psycho.”

She shoved on her CD to block them out. As the soothing rock of Blur and Bon Jovi hit her ears she relaxed. That was another reason she was teased--no, bullied--her taste in music. She had never liked the new music that came out regularly. She had grown up listening to the seventies American rock her mum had listened to and she had no desire to change what she listened to now she was older.

Layla had always been proud of being American but since she had come to England she was sad to say she hated her accent and everything else about her that was even slightly American. In New York she had fitted in, mainly because everybody there was different, and many people, now she thought of it, were much more different than she was or ever would be.

Her only crime was that strange things happened around her. She learned over the weeks she spent in England that it was easier to take the punishment than to argue. She was even beginning to think it was her causing these things to happen, like vanishing objects, or things happening to people she didn’t like. The latter had actually got her into a lot of trouble and was mainly the reason she was bullied.

The door opened. Layla took off her headphones and was greeted by her twin brother, James’, face.

“What do you want?” she asked savagely.

“Only to tell you that mom wanted you for something. Don’t get your panties in a twist, freak,” he replied calmly, and then left.

The final humiliation was that her brother had been an instant success in school, and, surprisingly enough, mainly with girls. He had had the choice of keeping the attention or teasing his sister. Layla sighed as she realised his choice was obvious.

She heaved herself off her bed and slumped down the stairs. She was surprised to find her mum sitting at the kitchen table looking worried. Layla automatically panicked.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

“This came in the post for you.” Her mum slid a letter towards her and then continued to stare at the table. Layla picked it up. It was heavy and made of yellow parchment. The address on the front was written in bright emerald green ink.

Miss L. Potter

10 Warrel Close

Farnborough

Hampshire.

She was stricken with such a great curiosity that she eagerly ripped it open.

She read it twice, sat heavily on a chair, and dropped it on the table.

“What does it say then, freak?” asked her brother, snatching the letter from where it rested. He began to read it in a very posh voice:

“Dear Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. I realise that this letter is a little late for the start of term and that you will be starting right in the year of exams, but the headmaster believes you have enough intelligence in this area to pick up the concepts very quickly. We will expect you at the school no later than three days from today.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.”

When he reached the end of the letter, he laughed out loud, “Someone’s playing a joke on you, Sis.”

“I’m sure they’re not,” their mother said briskly. “Well, I suppose we had better go and get your things and send you off to Hogwarts.”

Suddenly a sneaking suspicion crept into Laylas mind.

“Mom,” she began, “how do you know all of this?”

Her mother sighed. “Sit down you two. It is time to tell you what I should have told you a long time ago.”

Chapter Two

Layla watched her brother sit down cautiously. She laughed inwardly. Her brother was always scared of things that made him different, and they all knew that whatever this was, it would make them all, especially Layla, different. The strange thing was that she wasn’t scared. Whatever this was, she was finally going to find out why she was different, and that was something she had always wondered since she was small.

She suddenly realised her mother was talking and forced herself to listen.

“Well, you’ve always known that your father died when you were very small, but your father and I agreed that if he died that I would only tell you why when I would have to. Well, now I have to tell you.

“Your father was a wizard. He grew up with a normal family, like you, but unlike you, he had really bad time as this family didn’t want him because he was ‘abnormal’. It was because of his bullying for this that he made me promise never to tell you. He wanted you to grow up as normally as possible. When he was eleven he found out why he was so, well, strange and was sent to a magical school in Scotland, where he stayed for seven years, learning his fate eventually through a special prophecy. He met me soon after he left, in a bar in London. He became an Auror, we married, and we had two tiny little children whom he loved with all his heart. Eleven years after he left this school he and his best friends and mostly the whole of the wizarding world went to war against a force so powerful that only the love that he held for you two and myself let him fight for so long. He wanted to protect you so much that he fought until the end. Your father died defeating the most famous evil wizard ever known: Lord Voldemort. This school that Layla has been invited to go to is your father’s old school where he learned everything.”

“But then why do I not have a letter to open?” asked James, awed.

“Well,” explained his mother gently, “when there is one magical and one non magical parent in the family there is only a 50-50 chance that their children will become fully fledged witches or wizards. It seems you don’t have the gene.” She smiled gently as if to console him. Layla knew, however, that he wouldn’t need consoling. He’d be so happy he was normal compared to everybody else in the family, he’d probably be jumping over the moon if he could.

“So that’s why strange things keep happening to me?” asked Layla.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you,” said her mother sadly, “but the magical school in Oregon was shut down. America simply wasn’t producing enough wizards and witches and your father said that sending you all the way here from America would be too distressing. We had to move to America as it wasn’t safe for us to be here in England. Not only would the whole world know who you were, but Lord Voldemorts supporters were still out there and what better revenge to whom killed their master than killing his family? I think that’s just about it. It says on the letter you will have to get there in three days, so I think I should call Lupin.”

Layla watched as her mother took out a small bag of white glittery powder from her pocket and threw it in the fire. To Laylas surprise, the flames turned bright green. Her mother called gently into the fire, “Lupin! It is time.”

A spinning figure emerged from the fire a few minutes later. She sat down quickly and her eyes bulged out. Did a man really just appear in the fire? Her brother, James, on the other hand, completely outdid her. Screaming so much like a girl she would tease him later, bolting from the room and slamming the door, he didn’t actually shock anyone, as he had always been known to overreact.

Layla turned her attention to the man now standing in front of the fire. He was quite tall and looked old and tired. His hair was completely grey and it looked as though he was balding. His eyes, on the other hand, were dark and had a warmth and friendliness in them that made you trust him instantly. They also showed a man that had had things in life thrown at him that he would never quite get over.

“Layla,” began her mother, “this is Remus Lupin. He was a great friend of you father’s dad, James, and also knew your father very well. He will show you where to get your things for school, and will go with you to Hogwarts.”

Suddenly the man spoke. He had a deep, hoarse, strong voice that didn’t match his weak and feeble appearance.

“So, it was Layla who inherited her father’s extreme skill. I can see why, she looks exactly like him. Lily’s eyes still, though. I am rather surprised, though; it is usually the boy, what with the laws of inheritance and such.”

He turned to Layla and said quickly, “Not that your father wouldn’t have been happy. In fact, he would have been extremely proud of you.”

“Well, I think that’s all, so I had better be getting young Layla here to get her school things. Now, when you step into the fire, remember to speak clearly and say loudly, ‘Diagon Alley’, OK?”

Layla began to panic.

“You want me to stand in the fire?” she asked in a scared voice.

“No, you put the Floo powder in first,” explained Lupin kindly. Layla took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was how her father must have felt. She turned to her mother and smiled.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you in July, then.” Her mother swept her up in a warm hug and said, “Have a lovely time, sweetheart. I’ll send all your clothes and bits onto Hogwarts. And don’t forget to send me an owl to tell me how you settle in.” Layla was just about to ask what sending her mother an owl meant when Lupin said quickly,

“Well, we had best be off, then. Goodbye, Miranda.”

Layla took the powder he was holding out to her and threw it into the fire. The flames once again turned green and she stepped into them. She felt a comfortable warmth around her legs before she took a deep breath and said slowly and clearly (so unlike her father had), “Diagon Alley.”

Nothing could have prepared her for that journey. It was the most uncomfortable and just plain dirty experience she had ever had. Not only was she spinning around incredibly fast, but also all the soot from the fire was going in her eyes and mouth.

Just as she was beginning to feel sick from the spinning something solid appeared beneath her feet, her knees gave way, and she shot a few feet across a hard, stone floor only to be stopped by something very hard.

A hopeful, yet highly doubtful sounding voice came from somewhere above her.

“Harry?” it asked. She peered up through her hair to see a thoroughly confused looking man. Although a few years older than we last saw him, we instantly recognise him by the freckles and flaming red hair as none other than Ron Weasley. Layla, however, had no idea who he was. Ron soon realised his mistake and hurriedly said, “Oops sorry, it’s just I only saw you from the fire and you do look remarkably like Harry…”

Ron was interrupted at this moment by Lupin appearing, slightly more gracefully than Layla, out of the fire.

“Ah, excellent,” he said. “I see you have already met Ron. Ron, this is Layla Potter, Harry’s…”

“It can’t be…” interrupted Ron. “You’re Harry’s daughter?”

“Erm…yes,” replied Layla cautiously.

“That would be why you look so much like him and I thought you were him. That, and the fact she exits a fire exactly how he used to.”

“That would be flying halfway across the floor and bumping into the nearest object, then?” asked Lupin with a small smile.

“Yup,” replied Ron, also with a small smile. “He never did like travelling by Floo Powder, though.”

“Right,” said Lupin briskly, “time for introductions. Ron, this is Layla, Harry’s daughter. Layla, this is Ron Weasley. Ron was a great friend of your father and helped him defeat Voldemort. He is also, incidentally, your Godfather.”

Layla stared up at this man who knew so much about her father. She realised his eyes had the same look as Lupins-- a look of knowing too much and wishing he didn’t. A thousand questions raced through Laylas head, but eventually she managed to ask, “What was he like?”

Ron looked at her innocence sadly. Poor kid, he thought. She doesn’t even know her own father. A fresh wave of hatred for Voldemort surged through him. I’m the only magical relative she has left. It’s my responsibility to make sure she knows her father. He was about to tell her just what her father was like when Lupin spoke again.

“Well, we had better get to Diagon Alley, then.”

“Erm… Mr Lupin?” Layla ventured.

“Call me Remus. What is it Layla?”

“Well, how can I pay for all this? I haven’t any money.”

At this point, Ron stood up and bolted for the door muttering, “Exactly like him, exactly…”

This didn’t seem to bother Lupin, as all he did was laugh, “What do you think your father left you, turnips? That reminds me-- fist stop, Gringotts, the wizarding bank.”

“Wizards have their own bank?” asked Layla in awe.

“Boy, are you going to be amazed by Diagon Alley,” laughed Lupin as he led her out the door and into the street, where Layla stood amazed.

Everyone was rushing around her, wearing brightly coloured robes. The most remarkable thing about the people, though, was that most of them stopped to say hello, asked how her mother was, or said how sorry they were. The rest of the people did a double take, smiled, or just plain stared at Layla, unnerving her.

Finally, she managed to get up the courage to tap Lupin on the shoulder and whisper in his ear, “Er, Mr. Lupin… Remus, I mean. How do all these people know me?”

“Your father,” he answered simply.

It suddenly dawned on her just how important and great her father was. She was immediately filled with both pride in being his daughter and extreme sadness because she never got to know this extraordinary man.

However, her attention was soon diverted from her father simply because there were so many strange and incredible things for her to see. Every step she took down Diagon Alley there was something new to see, from the Robe shop to the owl emporium to the broomsticks in the window.

Layla couldn’t believe her eyes, “Hold on a minute,” she said. “Why are there brooms in the window? What do witches and wizards use broomsticks for, Remus?” she asked quietly.

“Well, mainly as a means of transport to get from A to B, but they’re also used for Quidditch.”

“Quidditch?” said Layla, very confused.

“It’s a game played up in the air on brooms. It has four balls and… well the rules are quite complicated, so I’m sure one of your friends will explain it to you when you get to Hogwarts,” explained Lupin as they stopped right at the end of the street in front of the biggest building. Its size and grandeur could mean it could only be…

“Gringotts,” said Lupin quietly. ”It’s the only wizarding bank in the country. Before we go in I had better warn you of something. It’s run by goblins.”

“Goblins?” squeaked Layla, shocked, but it was no good, Lupin had already begun a quick pace towards the building and Layla almost had to run to keep up with him.

When they entered the building, Laylas eyes became as large and round as saucers. It wasn’t just the size of the building, but the atmosphere. Everything around her was grand and the whole place gave off an atmosphere of wisdom. Lupin led her to a small window and rang a bell on the counter. Layla almost fell over in shock a moment later when possibly the ugliest face she had ever seen appeared at the window.

“Yes?” it enquired.

“I am here to take out some money from Mr. Harry Potter’s safe. Oh, and while I’m here could you please change it to the name of Miss Layla Potter, please?” replied Lupin thoughtfully.

“Of course. It will be done immediately. You have they key I presume?”

“Only got it off Hagrid this morning,” said Lupin as he handed over a tiny golden key. “He seemed to be quite sad to be giving it away actually. I had to remind him that nothing will bring Harry back.”

“Well, this seems to be the right key,” stated the goblin. “Now if you would like to follow me I will take you down to the vault.”

He led them through a door at the end of the room and into a corridor. Layla was surprised to se that its walls were made of earth, not marble like the grand room behind them, had no windows, and was lit only by brightly burning torches.

The goblin whistled and a small cart rolled into sight. It was made of wood and could barely hold all three of them, though the goblin was barely three-foot tall. The cart began to move, and was soon at an alarming pace, going so fast that everything they passed was a blur. Lupin and the goblin seemed unconcerned at the speed, though, so Layla sat still, closed her eyes, and concentrated on not being sick.

When they finally slowed, Layla saw large wooden doors set into the walls with heavy metal locks on them. She guessed these must be other peoples’ vaults. The cart jolted to a stop and the goblin announced, “Vault #531 owned by Mr. Harry Potter.” He then opened the door and a lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared Layla gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins, columns of silver coins and little heaps of tiny bronze coins. (I like the different ways you’re saying piles, stacks, and mountains. Very descriptive.)

“All yours,” said Lupin with a smile.

It was incredible. And all of it was hers. Here, under the streets of London was a small fortune and every bit of it belonged to her. She smiled as she imagined the look on her brother’s face if he could see this.

Lupin helped her pile some into a large bag as he explained, “The gold ones are Galleons, Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine little bronze Knuts to a Sickle, and it’s easy enough. Right. That should be enough for a year at Hogwarts, and we’ll keep the rest safe for you. Now, are you ready to spend it?”

**********

One wild cart-ride later, they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Layla didn’t know where to go first. She didn’t know how many Galleons there were to a pound, but she did know she was clutching more money in that bag than she had ever had in her life.

“Well, you had better go and get you uniform first. I’ll come meet you outside Madam Malkin’s in a few minutes, all right? I had better go and see if I can find Ron and see if he’s alright.”

And without a further word Lupin strode off into the crowd, leaving a very nervous Layla to enter Madam Malkins Robe’s for all Occasions on her own.

Madam Malkin was a small, fairly old looking woman with a kind smile and a warmth about her that meant you couldn’t help liking her.

“Hogwarts, dear?” she said kindly. “I’ve got young Mr. Weasley being fitted for one in the back, my goodness he does grow out of them quickly!”

And with a small chuckle, she led Layla through a door and stood her on a stool next to a boy. After the material had been slung over her head she took a good look at the boy. He was identical to his father in every way, down to the last freckle, apart from his eyes, which, unlike his fathers blue one’s, were dark brown. Must come from his mother, thought Layla.

“Hello,” he greeted Layla cheerfully. “I’m Jack Weasley. Who are you?”

“I’m Layla.”

“Layla who?”

“Oops, sorry,” Layla realised her mistake and giggled. “Layla Potter.”

“Really?” Jack sounded interested and slightly amused. ”I take it you’ve already met my dad then?”

“Oh, yes, he thought I was Harry.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying,” said Jack suddenly, whilst studying Layla, “you do look exactly like your father.”

“And you look like yours,” replied Layla. “Well, apart from the eyes,” she added.

“Yes, I do have my mothers eyes,” Jack said, smiling.

“Could I just ask though,” said Layla cautiously. “What are you doing in Diagon Alley today? I thought it was a Friday?”

“Mr. Lupin called and told me he had someone to meet. I think somehow I may have already met her though,” he said with a grin. ”And I needed some new robes, as always.”

“Well, that’s both of you done then, dearies,” said Madam Malkin cheerfully. “That’ll be ten Galleons, as usual, for you, Mr. Weasley, and twelve Galleons for you, Miss Potter, for the extra material and such.”

Jack and Layla handed over the money and were half way out of the shop when Jack suddenly exclaimed, “Good grief! You’re taller than I am! Well, that’s a rare thing to see. I’m the tallest in the year.”

“Yes, well, that’s the only thing I inherited from my mom: her height.”

As they walked across the busy street they spotted Lupin sitting outside a small café at the end of the street and waved as they walked over.

“Hello, Remus,” sighed Jack happily as he put down his bags on an empty chair. “Packed, isn’t it? Mind you I’m not surprised what with this blissful weather, eh?”

“Ah, I see you’ve already met Miss Potter then, Jack?”

“Huh, what? Oh, you mean Layla? Yeah, we met in Madam Malkin’s while being fitted for robes.”

“Excellent. Well I think I can trust you two to get the rest of Laylas shopping. I’ll meet you here in about, shall we say half an hour?”

“Perfect.” smiled Jack and Layla together.

*********

Half an hour later Layla plonked herself down on a chair at the same table. She had got all the things she needed for school: the rest of her uniform, her ingredients, and stationery. The best of all was that she treated herself to a broom: The Firebolt 2000, after Jack had told her that it was almost criminal for a fifth year not to have their own broom.

She also found out a lot about Jack. For example, she knew he had four older sisters, a younger sister and an older brother who was a seventh year at Hogwarts. She also found out that he and his brother fiercely competed for the TroubleMaker of Hogwarts title, but it wasn’t very important any more because as Jack had pointed out, “He’ll be leaving this year, and then I’ll be the trouble maker of Hogwarts, and he’ll be nothing.”

At this moment, she saw Lupin and hailed him over to the table. He looked very out of breath and flushed, his hair askew, as if he’d been walking very fast to get there.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologised, “but I had to go and get this!”

As he said the last few words removed a piece of material from an oddly shaped package with a flourish, to reveal a very disgruntled looking tawny owl.

“Ta-da!” he said, smiling. “Think of it as 15 years worth of birthday presents.”

“Tha-thank you,” stuttered Layla, very embarrassed.

“Aww, bless, it’s a sweet little owl, isn’t it, Lay?” cooed Jack. “What are you going to call it?”

“Erm…” said Layla intelligently.

“I know,” exclaimed Jack. “Why don’t you name it after your dad’s godfather, Sirius?”

Layla thought for a minute. “Sirius… yeah, I like that. It has a certain ring to it. Are you sure Sirius won’t mind an owl being named after him?”

“Well, he can’t complain much! He died fighting Voldemorts death eaters.”

“Oh, I am so sorry!” said Layla, shocked.

“That’s alright,” said Jack kindly, “you didn’t know.”

“Now, have you got all your things?” asked Jack in a mock parent-like voice.

Layla giggled. “I think so. No, hold on, I still need… a wand.”

“Well, we had best be off to Ollivanders, then.”

They walked towards a small, grubby looking shop, and entered it with a tinkle of the bell.

A small man appeared as if from nowhere. He looked incredibly old and wrinkled, and somewhat like an elf.

“Miss Potter,” he whispered, he had a very quiet, chilling voice. In fact Layla found him all over to be a very disturbing person. “I thought you would have been here sooner. It seems only yesterday however that your father was in here buying his wand. Eleven inches, nice and supple, Holly and Phoenix feather, very powerful.”

“And Remus Lupin, too! Twelve inches, dragon heartstring and beech wood, rather snappy. Very good for charms, as I remember?”

“Yes it was,” smiled Lupin. “But also good for transfiguration.”

“Excellent. Now, Miss Potter, which is your wand arm?”

“Erm, well I’m left-handed,” said Layla.

A tape measure immediately jumped up and started taking measurements of her left arm.

“Good, good. Now try this one. Maple and unicorn hair, nine inches, quite whippy. Well, give it a wave.”

Feeling like a complete idiot, Layla did indeed wave it around in the air. But nothing happened.

“No, no. Try this one. Beech and dragon heartstring, seven inches, very brittle.”

Layla had hardly raised it when Mr. Ollivander snatched it off her and said, quite happily, “Nope, try this. Mahogany and phoenix feather, 13 inches, very bendy.”

Yet again nothing happened. Layla wasn’t even sure whether this man had a logical theory, but even if he did it didn’t seem to be working.

“Tricky one, hmm? I know let’s try something unusual. Ebony and unicorn hair, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

This wand was different, Layla was sure of it. Maybe it was the way that it shined in the light, but as soon as she picked it up even the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She brought it down in a swoosh of purple, green and blue sparkles. When she had finished, she suddenly became aware that she was breathing very heavily.

“Ah, excellent!” beamed Mr. Ollivander, as he began to package it up. “Strange though.”

“What’s strange?” asked Layla curiously.

“Well I remember this unicorn quite clearly. It was very docile. I managed to get two hairs out before it got agitated. And the person with the other unicorn hair in his wand happens to be standing next to you.”

“13 inches, oak, pliable,” said Jack suddenly.

“Yes,” agreed Mr. Ollivander. “Strange how these things happen.” He looked wistful. “That’ll be 9 Galleons, then, Miss Potter.”

Layla paid and walked out of the shop very quickly, not wanting to spend one second longer with this strange man and his weird theories.

***********

Ten minutes later, Layla was walking down Diagon Alley with Lupin and Jack by her sides, and a drink in her hand.

“What’s up Layla?” asked Jack, with concern. “You look upset.”

Layla looked embarrassed as she realised Jack had caught her crying.

“I’m just so… happy,” she sniffed. “I’ve never really walked down a street without being stared at before. And I’m really pleased with what I’ve brought. Especially the broom.”

“Well, you should be!” laughed Jack. “That’s a quality broom. You’ll get good use out of that.”

“That reminds me,” said Layla, as she sipped her lemonade. “Would you know anything about Quidditch, Jack? I’d just like to know what it is.”

“You don’t know what Quidditch is?” he exclaimed, flabbergasted. “It’s only the best game ever! You see there are seven players on each team, Three Chasers, Two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker. The Chasers have to get the Quaffle through the hoops at the end of the pitch and…”

“Erm… Jack?” ventured Lupin. “I hate to say it but we had better get Layla here to school if she wants to get there this century.”

“Damn.” Jack looked very disappointed that he didn’t get to explain all the positions of the players. “How will we be getting there? No trains run there apart from the Hogwarts Express, Layla can’t fly, and I don’t have my broom with me anyway.”

“Dumbledore has set up a special portkey,” answered Lupin as he picked up an old newspaper and held it out to Jack and Layla. Layla looked confused, so Lupin explained, “Just a finger will do. It will feel quite strange at first but I’m sure you’ll get used to it. You must hold onto your new purchases very tightly in the other hand though, unless you wish to leave them here without you.” Layla reached out and held onto the newspaper, grasping the bags tightly, just as Lupin began to count, “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

Layla looked at Jack and he gave her a reassuring smile. It was strange but that smile made her feel better, in some obscure way.

“…Four, three, two, one!”

It happened instantly. It had to be the strangest feeling in the world Layla thought. As if someone had kicked her into a black hole. There was just wind on her face and emptiness. She could feel Jack next to her, but it was as if she wasn’t really there, detached from her own body in some odd way.

And then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped, and Layla felt the ground appear beneath her feet and she immediately toppled over on Jack, who was already sprawled out on the ground. She rolled off him, both of them groaning, and looked up to see Lupin, looking slightly windswept, but at least still on his feet.

By this point Jack was on his feet and offered Layla a hand to get up. He hoisted her up and then, quite breathlessly, announced, “Welcome to Hogwarts, Lay. I hope you’ll be very happy here!”

Just as Layla began focusing, she felt her eyes beginning to swim again. It was the biggest building—castle, actually— she had ever seen. It was very grand, far grander than Gringotts, and looked vastly old, and most of the windows were lit with a warm, inviting light. It felt like it would be a place where no one would call her a freak. These sorts of places, she had discovered, were few and far between.

“Well?” asked Jack impatiently.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” whispered Layla.

“Glad you like it!” grinned Jack. “Well, I think that’s all, Remus. I’m pretty sure we can make our way from here.”

“You will be alright, Layla?” asked Lupin, concerned. ”If there are any problems at all, send a note to me with Sirius and I’ll try and sort them out, okay?”

“Come on, Remus,” said Jack. “Lay’s a big girl now, I’m sure she can look after herself.”

Layla grinned. “I’ll be absolutely fine.”

“Are you sure?” checked Lupin.

“This looks like a place that’ll be friendly,” said Layla thoughtfully, “and those places I can definitely handle.”

“I’ll see you soon then, Layla. Jack.”

“Goodbye, Remus,” said Jack. ”Safe journey.”

Layla turned to look at Remus and thought, He looks so tired and old. She was suddenly filled with love and pity for this man, for whatever he had seen had affected him deeply. Caught up in her emotions Layla hugged him warmly.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Remus.” She smiled at him.

With that he took out his wand, tapped the portkey, muttered something, and disappeared.

“Well, we had best be getting you to see Professor Dumbledore. Let’s see if your mum has sent your stuff first, though,” he said, as he opened one of the heavy front doors with a creak, stepped through, and promptly fell over Laylas bags.

Layla was laughing so hard she couldn’t even help Jack up.

“Well I think that would be a yes,” spluttered Jack as he stood up and joined in the laughing. “I seem to fall over a lot in your presence. Mind you I fall over a lot anyway. Big feet you see. Come on. It’s this way to Professor Dumbledores office.”

In the next ten minutes any suspicions that Layla had had about getting lost in the castle were confirmed. Jack led her through so many corridors and up so many staircases that she was sure the castle was designed to be an impossible maze. I could get lost and not be found for weeks! she thought with a shudder.

“Here we are!” announced Jack finally. “I’ll come in with you just in case.”

He stopped in front of a large, rather ugly gargoyle and said clearly, “Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans!” Layla though he had gone mad until the gargoyle stepped aside, revealing a stone revolving staircase which Jack pulled an astounded Layla onto until they he reached a large and impressive oak door, where they stopped. He knocked loudly on the door and a stern voice from inside said, “Enter!”

Layla opened the door, walked in quietly, and felt Jack walk in and shut the door behind her.

The man sitting behind the desk in front her was one of the strangest people to look at Layla had ever seen. (As she said to Jack later, “That’s something. I grew up with my brother!”) He had long white hair and beard, and looked very old. This struck Layla as strange, since his blue eyes sparkled with youth.

“Ah, yes, Layla. I’ve been expecting you.” His voice was light and airy, but also seriously and kindly. It had a quality of great knowledge and power about it. “And Mr. Weasley, too? Very well then.

“Now, Layla you must know that if it was up to me you would have started school at the age of 11 with the rest of your year. However, when you were an infant, your father came to me and told me could I please wait until you and your family were back from America? So, of course, I said yes, and lo and behold, this September, who should arrive in England and write me a letter other than your mother? However, it has taken quite a while to find room for you here, as our fifth year is a very big year, and that is why your letter arrived late. In fact, if you don’t mind, you will be sleeping in the boy’s dormitory as there are only four boys in one of the Gryffindor dormitories, and all the girls’ ones are full. I could have extended one of course, but I thought you would be mature enough to cope and I am getting very lazy in my old age. Plus, you already know Mr. Weasley here, and you know none of the girls yet.

“Now, as to your abilities I have no doubt that you will pick up everything very quickly. In fact, from all the magical occurrences around you I should think you have more talent than even Miss Granger had when she was here, and that’s saying something. Now if you would like to pop along to the Gryffindor Tower, I’ve already had someone deliver your bags to the boys’ dormitory, but if you would be kind enough, Mr. Weasley, would you go and check that they are safely there? Thank you.”

Jack left the room and shut the door quietly behind him, giving Layla the tiniest of winks, before leaving her alone with Dumbledore.

“Now, Miss Potter,” began Dumbledore. “I have a letter for you here that your father left in my possession before he left to fight Voldemort. Now, I haven’t looked at it, but I would have thought it would be quite private, so you may want to read it somewhere quiet, so certain people don’t read it, okay?”

“Yes, thank you, Sir,” mumbled Layla as Dumbledore handed her the letter.

“Oh and your father also left me some of his things for me to give you as well. Now I don’t know if there is, but if there is a blank piece of parchment in there then do not throw it away, tap it and say, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” To close it tap it once again and say, “Mischief Managed!” If that were to be thrown away I think your grandfather; his friends, your father, his friends and the Weasley twins would be most upset. Maybe not Mr. Filch, though.” He chuckled. “Now, you’ll be wanting to get to the dormitory and unpack, so I will let you go.”

“Thank you Sir,” said Layla as she walked towards the door thinking, “How on earth am I going to find the Gryffindor Common room?”

She opened the door and shut it quietly. As she stood there debating which way to go, Jack came running down the hall and skidded to a stop in front of Layla, panting.

“I just… I thought… you would need… showing to the common… the common room,” he said breathlessly.

“Thank you,” said Layla with a grin. “I was panicking a bit.”

**********

A few minutes later, Layla was in the boy’s dormitory being introduced to her roommates for the next three years.

“Hey, guys!” yelled Jack over the furious pillow fight that was going on. “Stop for a minute! Layla, this is Connor, Henry, and Frederick, otherwise known as Con, Hen and Freddie. Guys, this is Layla, she’ll be sleeping in here from now on.”

“But she’s a girl!” said Freddie incredulously.

“Wow, really?” said Layla sarcastically, as she grabbed a pillow off the bed next to him and hit him over the head with it. “What was it that gave me away?”

“You didn’t let me finish!” complained Freddie. “I was going to add that I think you’ll fit in quite nicely.” He grinned as Layla blushed to the roots of her hair when the rest of the boys said, “Hear, hear!”

“What’s all that you’ve got Lay?” asked Jack curiously.

“It’s stuff my dad left me,” she said as she sat on her bed. “You can all have a look if you like.”

Everyone crowded round as she began to tear open the paper and let the contents fall onto the bed. The first thing she picked up was a cloak.

“Hey, do you think it’ll suit me?” she said, grinning, as she bounded off the bed and spun it round her. There was then an audible gasp from everybody else. “What?” she asked quickly, looking down and gasping herself.

“That’s an invisibility cloak!” said Hen. “They’re really, really rare.”

Layla then picked up the next parcel, a long, thin one, and opened it.

“Wow,” said Jack softly. ”An original Firebolt, mint condition as well! These were incredibly good brooms for their time. Worth a lot, too.”

The final thing in the pile was a piece of blank parchment.

“Oh,” said Con, disappointed. ”Who wants a piece of old parchment?”

“Anyone would want one that does this,” said Layla, and unsure of what was going to happen she got out her wand, put the tip on the parchment and said in a clear voice, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” From the point of her wand came lines of ink forming a perfect, moving map of the whole school including, the secret passageways.

“That,” said Jack with a gasp, “is incredibly cool! We could use that for some serious pranks! That reminds me Uncle Fred and Uncle George said something about a map like this when they were at school. They would be who your dad got it from.”

“But who did they get it from?” asked Layla as she spotted four names at the top of the parchment. “Who were Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs?”

“Hold on,” said Jack thoughtfully. “I remember Remus Lupin saying that his nickname at school was Moony.”

“Really?” Layla was impressed. “But who are the others?”

“Do you not know Remus' three best friends at Hogwarts?” Jack sounded as though Layla didn’t know her time’s tables. “Well there was Remus, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius of course, and a certain Mr. James Potter.” Jack grinned. “Between them they were very proud for managing to turn McGonagalls hair from black to grey in seven years. Then Fred and George added the remainder of the greys and a few white ones. Jake, my big brother, he added a few more and since I’ve got here, Freddie and I’ve managed to turn it almost half white.”

“I’ll bet you ten Galleons,” Layla laughed, “that in the next three years, I can turn it completely white.”

“But that’s impossible,” said Jack. “Not even your granddad, James, could do that and McGonagall said he’s the worst she’s ever encountered!”

“Ah!” said Layla darkly. “But she’s never met me!”

“Come on,” said Hen, stifling a huge yawn. “We should have been in bed ages ago. Night Layla.”

“Night everyone,” called Layla as she grabbed some pyjamas, clambered into bed and shut the hangings around it. She then proceeded to get changed and wait until she heard four sets of snoring, Jack’s definitely being the loudest, and clambered out of bed with the letter that Dumbledore had given her. She walked slowly and carefully over to the window, trying not to wake anyone, and sat on the window seat. She carefully tore open the envelope, and the first thing that fell out was a photo.

As she looked at it, it was very easy for her to recognise her father, even though she had never seen a picture of him before. It was exactly like looking at a male version of herself. She had the same almond shaped green eyes, same untidy black hair and even the same nose as her father. The only things she didn’t seem to have inherited were his poor sight and his height. The people standing around him were also quite easy to recognise. On his left was, undoubtedly, a younger Ron Weasley. He still had the same bright red hair and freckles, but in this picture his eyes had a different quality. “He looks completely happy,” thought Layla sadly and quickly moved on. The person standing next to Ron could only be a younger Lupin. His hair had much less grey, and his eyes were also without that strange sadness. He was smiling, not at the camera, but at the happy laughing children in front of him. To Harry’s right was a pretty looking girl with a shock of frizzy hair who looked a lot like Freddie. She thought that this could only be the girl that Dumbledore had talked about, Hermione Granger, Freddie’s mother. Standing behind Harry, towering above all of them, was her fathers godfather, Sirius Black. Looking at all of their smiling faces, and the protective hand Sirius put on her fathers shoulder, Layla shuddered as she suddenly realised that two of these smiling, happy people were dead.

She quickly put down the photo and slid the letter out of the envelope. This was the moment she had dreaded. Or had she hoped for it? She really didn’t know anymore as she unfolded it and began to read.

“My dearest Lollie,”

A tear dripped onto the page. Before she had never remembered anyone calling her Lollie, but now she had no doubt that her father had done. Layla sniffed, wiped her eyes on her pyjamas, and continued reading.

“If you are reading this letter now, I must be gone. It feels very strange writing that at the age of twenty-nine, still very much alive. Don’t tell your mother this, but I always suspected that you were the magical one, so many strange things have happened around you already, and at the moment you’re only two months old. I don’t how old you are reading this, thirteen, fifteen, maybe even seventeen. I hope your mother brought you back before you were seventeen though, otherwise you won’t really have time to learn what you will need to.

It must also be your first day at Hogwarts. Don’t worry, you’ll soon get used to it. I’ve asked Lupin to look out for you and Ron's said he will ask his son Jack to as well, when he’s old enough. I was incredibly nervous on my first day, but I soon met your godfather, Ron, and Hermione bless her, and they made me feel right at home. Please, will you tell Ron, (if he’s still there of course? Oh, God, I never thought of that.) Not to dwell on the fact that I’m not there, because I know he will, being the incredibly loyal person he is. Also, can you tell Hermione that I’m sorry I missed her wedding, and I hope she’s very happy with Krum, and that also I hope little Freddie is still okay.

I suppose you’re hoping for some incredibly good advice, seeing as I won’t have been there to tell you it before. Well, I’ll tell you now. I’m standing here looking down at the two-month-old you sleeping, and only two pieces of advice come to mind. The first one is: never give up. A cliché, I know but the best advice Sirius ever told me. If anyone tries to stop you doing what you want to do (and yes that does included Snape, the slimy git, who you will unfortunately have the displeasure of meeting soon), then they aren’t worth knowing. Live your dreams, because obviously, I never got a chance to live mine, and I regret that every single day. This brings me to my second, piece of advice. Live life to its fullest. Yes, I know it’s another cliché, but never mind. Surprisingly, Ron said this one. It started off as joke to stop Hermione studying so much, but then I thought about it, and it makes sense. Live every day to its fullest and take as many chances as possible, because, as I have finally realised, you never know when the chances might stop coming.

But I can’t leave you with morbid advice like that so it’s on to what I have left you. That photo is one of all us lot in my fifth year at Hogwarts. That was the year Sirius died. In fact it was taken just before Christmas at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. (I’m sure Ron will fill you in on that one.) The reason that the photo is a bit at an angle is because Ginny was taking it and had just eaten one of Fred and George’s Canary Creams and was half way through turning into a rather large canary. (Notice why we were all laughing our heads off!)

The cloak was property of my father and given to me by Dumbledore for my first Christmas at Hogwarts. I know you’ll find a thousand uses for it that I’d never even dreamed of but I must tell you it’s very good for hiding from teachers after curfew. Moody’s magical eye can see through it, so it won’t work on him.

I know that the broom probably won’t be of much use to you because they’re sure to have made a thousand better brooms afterwards that you can use but it was my favourite present from Sirius ever and you’re the only person I can think of that would look after it properly. (Although Ron’s probably going to be very upset I didn’t leave it to him!)

Now, to my favourite item: the Marauder’s Map. Ah, what can I say about that magical map? Well, my father took all his time at Hogwarts to finish it, and even then Fred and George managed to add to it. They’re pretty sure that it’s completely finished, but they said that if you find any more passages to let them know immediately! I got it from them, and I must say it is incredibly useful!

Well, I think that’s about it, so now I suppose it really is time to say goodbye. Ron is tapping me on the arm saying it’s time to go. I’ve already said goodbye to your mother and brother. I know you’ll always have them no matter what. I’ve just gone and given your two-month-old self a goodbye kiss and you rolled over in your sleep and sighed. You are so beautiful. You look exactly like me and almost nothing like your mother. I think she was quite upset about that but then your brother looks exactly like her so she can’t complain.

If you do get this letter (and right now I’m hoping against hope that you don’t) and if you forget everything else this letter has said you must remember one thing: I love you. I will always love you. And I will always miss you. You are the most precious thing to me in the whole world and you should know that you will always be loved, no matter what.

So goodbye, my angel,

A lifetime’s worth of love and kisses,

Dad.

This time, Layla let the tears fall. And as she sat there she felt the same thing that her father had felt as he had sat there almost thirty-five years ago. She felt incredibly loved but most importantly:

She felt she was home.