Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Original Female Muggle
Genres:
Adventure Original Characters
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Stats:
Published: 07/04/2007
Updated: 07/04/2007
Words: 1,495
Chapters: 1
Hits: 311

Circe in the Books

Kalyca

Story Summary:
Circe, an avid Harry Potter fan, traverses time and space to arrive at Hogwarts during Harry's first year. She in a quandary as how to carry on as an outsider in a storyline she knows all too well. Can she manage to realize her dreams about magic while not affecting those destinies inherent to the success of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone?

Chapter 01

Posted:
07/04/2007
Hits:
311


Disclaimer:

General Disclaimer

I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling and therefore any use or reference to her literary talents, in terms of Harry Potter, are solely hers and not mine.

Circe in the Books

Chapter 1: Hogwarts all of a sudden

***

Huddled in a corner, under a flickering torch, a dark-haired girl was busy scribbling into a notebook. It was eerily quiet in these dank, dour smelling dungeons, where the usual silence was only slightly disturbed by the occasional soft scratching of pen on paper. The girl had filled half the length of a page, and was now thoughtfully chewing at the end of her green peacock feathered pen.

She had written in almost indistinguishable cursive:

September 2, 1991 hpt (Harry Potter time)

I am currently in the dungeons, hopefully a good deal away from the Slytherin dormitories, however. I cannot be sure about such things as I have only read about Hogwarts, and never actually traipsed about inside these vast walls. This school is for persons who are witches and wizards, but somehow I have been granted permission to enter this place of magical learning, if not actual admittance to learn here.

I am quite positive that I am not a witch; after all, I received no letter of congratulations from this school, nor a supply list. I did not travel by the Hogwarts express to Hogsmeade village. I was not led by Hagrid to the boats to travel across the lake to the doors of the school. No sorting hat was placed upon my head to determine the house I belong in. Considering all this, I believe there is just cause to say I don't belong at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Nevertheless, somehow or other I am here. I am not even from the universe where Harry Potter exists; I am from the real world. This place feels real, but it just cannot be so. If I am able to read about this place in books, six out of seven in the series, and I know that an author wrote them, than this place can only be the imaginative and artistic work of that author. The reason for my presence at Hogwarts, and the existence of it, at the moment at least, is a mystery. Hogwarts is part of a story, a story I love immensely, quite to the point of obsession, but in all respects still a story.

I am in no way unhappy to be here, quite the opposite, but I cannot dislodge this pervasive feeling of worry. I have no idea how a person who has lived eleven years of their life without ever seeing a wisp of magic, and for all purposes believing it to not exist, could suddenly be transported to a innately magical place they thus far believed only to exist in books. I wish I could stop overanalyzing everything, and enjoy being in the actual Harry Potter Universe!

Circe stopped writing, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Like any other fan, she had forever wished she had been born with magical abilities that allowed her to study at a magical school, whether in Britain or the States. From the very first book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, she became enamored by the idea. Ever since she began to delve into the magical solace they would provide, she would incessantly compare her existence in the regular mundane world to the magical lives of those in the Wizarding world. Whenever she would turn the pages of those books, reality would be replaced by a more enticing realm of fantasy. Countless times, while doing schoolwork, she would lament that she had not been born a witch. She cursed fate's decision to place her in the regular world of oblivious muggles who expected her to learn idiotic subjects like math and science when her hands itched to wave a wand and her mouth watered in vain to mutter spells.

Circe looked back down at her page and once again put pen to paper

But that was all a wish, a desire that I had thought too fantastic to possibly form into a reality. But here I am...living a slightly different version of that same dream. Somehow I have traversed over dimensions and space, or something.... I have no idea, and it all seems far too complicated to assess correctly...

~Circe

**

Half our earlier that dark-haired girl, Circe, had set her knapsack on the ground and removed her leather-bound notebook and a pen. Only that short while ago, the dungeons had been bathed in what could very loosely be termed a warm glow, but only in comparison to the lighting now. The paltry flame of the torch above Circe's head remained the brightest, as most were either on their last embers or already extinguished.

There was a small hissing sound as one of the lamps by Circe's head fizzled out. No longer engrossed in her writing, she looked up. Her thoughtful frown was quickly replaced by a look of surprise. Glancing worriedly at the torch above her own head, she began to gather her belongings.

"If only I had been able to sneak into one of the houses as a student," Circe lamented, looking despairingly at her outfit. She could not help but admit that a dapple of canary yellow would have been highly conspicuous amidst a sea of black.

"Unquestionably not close even close on the color spectrum," she muttered, giving her dress a look of disgust.

***

Circe, had put on the detested piece of clothing, the day she had showed up on the doorstep of her quirky and senile relative, Aunt Amla. The outfit had been a gift from the said relative, and her parents had insisted she wear it. Technically, she had been forced to pay a visit to Aunt Amla, her father's great-great aunt through his mother's cousin or something equally complicated. She was simply known as Aunt Amla, and Circe and her father were her only living blood relatives. Circe had never seen Aunt Amla and had never known much about her except that she lived half way across the world in England and sent terribly useless birthday presents that were each year displayed in the china cupboard amongst other things she was allowed to see but not touch. A few days after her June 1st birthday, Aunt Amla had sent her a delicate and antique locket and a letter addressed to her father that seemed to have ignored the existence of Circe's mother entirely:

My dear grand nephew,

I hope this letter finds you and Circe in good health. I am afraid we do not communicate as often as I would like, and it has been almost fifteen years since I have actually seen you. As you know, you and darling Circe are my only kin, the remaining family I have. I am not in the best of health due to my age and cannot muster the strength needed to see you and Circe before that is no longer a possibility. Do not worry yourself with morbid thoughts of my demise, however, for I do have a few years left in me yet. I have prematurely been forced to bequeath my estates and assets to you in my will; they will be transferred by my attorney, upon my death. Unfortunately, your presence at a necessary hearing would set things in stone. I am afraid that there is a little trouble, hence the need for these lawful proceedings. Therefore, I request that you come visit me at your earliest convenience. I would be delighted if Circe, especially, made the trip. You need not bother to give me notice, I've had the guest rooms aired and readied for your stay.

Sincerely yours,

Amla Leucacia Halobix

Circe's father found Aunt Amla to be slightly 'off the rocker', but had always been fond of her nevertheless. He was unsure as to whether the little trouble mentioned by his aunt was real or a ruse to get him out onto her estate. He could not very well take time off from his busy schedule immediately. As the owner of a small travel company, he had many loose ends to wrap up if he wanted to take a holiday.

Circe, on the other hand, had no school for another three and a half weeks, nor any pressing plans, leaving her quite free to make the journey. The only reason, she had not made a huge deal about seeing a person she knew only through the occasional letter and holiday gift, was that her parents had agreed that she could also visit with one of her close friends who had moved to Glasgow a year earlier.

***

But now, here she was, unexpectedly turned out amongst her favorite storybook setting...Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She smiled wanly and thought, "If only I was an actual student instead of a dimension traveling trespasser..."