Emily

Emily Nott sighed as she gazed into the mirror. A small, skinny girl of sixteen stared back. Dark hair fell in curls around a small, pale face, out of which peered two doe-like brown eyes. Freckles spotted across her nose, and her face continually wore a determined, slightly rebellious expression.

"Please, miss, your mother wishes to speak with you in the library."

It was one of the house-elves. Emily sighed again and nodded.

"Tell her I will be down shortly."

The elf left. Emily turned back to her mirror, fixed a pleasant expression on her face and a brooch on her dress, and then went downstairs.

Rebecca Nott was waiting in the library for her daughter, sitting in a chair, blue eyes fixed on the door. She couldn't have been more different to her daughter; her hair was blonde and short, and her eyes were cold and blue. As soon as Emily appeared, a fake sort of smile cracked across her face and she stood up.

"Darling - how are you? Sit down."

"I'm fine, Mother," Emily said wearily. She sat down in a chair facing Rebecca. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Sir Aureus and his son are coming to visit for the weekend," Rebecca said. She was practically glowing at the very thought of having the Malfoys in her home.

"Oh."

"I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you and young Caelum to get to know each other better."

"Caelum Malfoy is not that young, Mother."

"Emily! He is a mere boy compared to his father."

"Yes, but Sir Chester, he's - he's old. Anyone would seem young compared to -"

"That's enough," snapped Rebecca. "They will be arriving this evening, at eight o'clock. Make sure you are ready for their arrival."

She stood and swept out of the room, lips pursed in annoyance at her daughter's lack of enthusiasm. Emily stared at the floor, also annoyed. She'd been fighting against her arranged marriage to Caelum Malfoy - who was eight years her senior - ever since she'd first found out about it, but it was to no avail. The wedding was going to go ahead no matter what she said or did.

Emily stood and went back up to her bedroom. She went to the window, and as she gazed out, she wished for the millionth time that she could go to Hogwarts. Her father was against it, though; he was adamant that women shouldn't be educated. Emily had tried to rebel, tried to run away, but she'd been brought back home every time.

Her eyes fell on the wall that ran all around the perimeter of the Nott estate, and she wondered, not for the first time, how easy it would be to climb it.

You already tried that, she reminded herself. It didn't stop her from wishing, though.

She lay on her bed, staring at the canopy of the four-poster. She closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to be on the outside for once, looking in as opposed to out. Free instead of imprisoned. Independent instead of depending on everyone...

Her body gave a funny jolt, and suddenly she was standing looking at a huge stone wall. It took her a couple of seconds, and then comprehension slowly dawned on her...

She was free.

Somehow, unbelievably, she'd escaped from the manor. She leaned against a nearby tree, taking in what had just happened. She tried to remember what time it was. When she passed the grandfather clock in the hall, it had said that it was five o'clock. That meant that she had a good few hours before they realised she was missing...

A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as she realised what being free meant. She could go anywhere - she could go to Hogwarts.

The first thing she had to do, though, was to travel to Diagon Alley, in London. When she was younger, she'd accompanied her father there on a few occasions, and she was sure that she could still remember her way around, and the way there. She needed to visit Gringotts, the bank, to get some money, and then she could stay at The Leaky Cauldron, an inn near Diagon Alley, until she could get to Hogwarts.

As she leaned against the tree, feeling suddenly terrified at the thought of travelling over two hundred miles to London, all on her own. She wondered if the imagining trick would work again - well, it was worth a try.

She scrunched her eyes shut and imagined with all her might that she was standing in the darkest corner of The Leaky Cauldron. Sure enough, the funny jolt came over her again, and when she opened her eyes, she was standing in the darkest corner of the warm, smoky inn.

Filled with amazement at what she had just done, she quickly moved through the inn, out of the back door and into a little yard. It was here that a fresh wave of panic swept over her.

Hadn't her father used his wand, and tapped the bricks to get into Diagon Alley? Emily didn't even have a wand, let alone know which bricks to tap.

She stood biting her lip, wondering what on earth she could do, when suddenly the back door of the inn opened and out came a man and a woman, laughing together. They stopped when they saw Emily, and the woman spoke gently to her.

"You're not lost are you, dear?" Emily shook her head.

"Not lost. I just - forgot my wand, that's all."

"Oh!" said the woman, and she laughed again. "You can come through with us."

She pulled a wand from the pocket of the long purple robes that she wore, tapped the bricks, and an opening appeared.

"Thank you," Emily said politely, and she was about to walk away when the man held out a hand to stop her.

"You're the Nott girl, aren't you?"

"Yes," Emily said, bewildered. The man and woman exchanged a glance.

"You wouldn't happen to know where your father is, would you?"

"No," Emily answered truthfully.

"Very well. Off you go."

Puzzled, Emily set off down the crowded street. She vaguely wondered what they wanted with her father, but didn't think much of it - people often visited the house looking for him. She made mental notes to herself on where certain shops were - she needed some different robes and at least one cloak, for example, so she remembered where Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions was. She wore blue robes, but they were of very light material, and not really intended to be worn outside.

She eventually reached the bank. Gringotts was a large, magnificent building made of white marble. Emily hardly had time to marvel at the architecture before two goblins bowed her through the doors.

One of the few things that Emily had learnt from her father was not to stare at goblins. She approached an unoccupied goblin, and smiled as pleasantly as she could.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal from vault one hundred and sixty-three, please," she said, unhooking the golden key from around her neck. Each member of the Nott family had their own vault, and each kept their own key on a chain around their neck. Emily was extremely grateful for this fact as a goblin scurried forwards and led her into an underground passage, and helped her into a cart, which set off at top speed.

Emily felt as though she was going to be sick as the cart hurtled along. She closed her eyes, but was careful not to imagine herself anywhere else, for fear of what might happen if she did.

Eventually, the cart stopped, the goblin helped her out, and she handed him her key. He opened the vault, and Emily's breath was taken away as she gazed upon pile after pile of gold Galleons. Stunned at the amount of money there, she stuffed a black velvet bag full of coins, and the goblin locked the vault, gave her the key back, and took her back to ground level.

Once back outside, the first thing she did was to visit the robe shop. She bought a black cloak and three sets of robes in black, dark green and navy blue. Next stop was Ollivander's, where a large sign outside proclaimed 'Fine Wandmakers since 382 B.C'.

She pushed open the door and went in. The shop seemed to be deserted; the only sound was a grandfather clock, ticking away in the corner. She glanced at it and saw that it was quarter to seven. They would be looking for her soon; maybe she had better be as quick as she could here.

"Ah, Miss Nott."

A man had stepped out of the shadows, and his voice made her jump.

"Has your father finally relented to let you leave the estate, or have you escaped?" Emily said nothing, and he chuckled. "Never mind, you don't have to tell me...now, let me see..."

He was looking carefully over the shelves, where hundreds, maybe thousands, of slim boxes were stacked. He took one, opened it, and handed the wand to her.

"Try this."

She raised it through the air, but he snatched it from her hand.

"No - not that one. Try this..."

But that one wasn't right, either, or the next one after that. In fact, none of them seemed to be right, and Emily began to get worried. What if there was no wand for her?

The next one that Mr. Ollivander handed her, though, was different. As she took hold of it, an icy tingle ran from it into her fingers, and she shivered. As she waved it through the air, the tip glowed purple, and purple and silver sparks erupted from the end.

"Yes, very good," Mr. Ollivander said approvingly, taking it from her and placing it back in its box. "Ebony, nine inches, containing one dragon heartstring. Use it carefully; this is a very powerful wand."

"I will," Emily said. "How much is it?"

"Six Galleons."

Emily paid, left the shop, and hadn't walked very far when she collided heavily with someone. Her packages flew out of her hands, the one containing the robes landing in a puddle.

"Oh - I'm so sorry, miss - here, let me help..."

The speaker was a boy not much older than herself; about nineteen, Emily guessed. His hair was auburn and quite long, and his eyes were sparkling and blue.

"Sicco!" he muttered, picking up the robes package and pointing his wand at it. In an instant, it was dry again, and he handed it back to Emily.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. He nodded abruptly.

"You're welcome."

He walked away, leaving Emily staring after him. As she watched, he did something that made her gasp - he disappeared.