A/N: First and foremost, I apologize if parts of this chapter seem choppy. I have a difficult time introducing some things in the HP world because we, as readers and fans, are already familiar with the world and the way things work. With that in mind, I feel it is boring and repetitive to re-describe things so sometimes descriptions come out too fast or choppy because of that. The last thing I want is to bore you all or write something I know you'll skip over.

Chapter 1- Retrieving Millie

September 1990

"I'm afraid I must leave the school for a day or two."

"So soon, Albus?" asked McGonagall. "But it is only the first day of the term."

Dumbledore regarded the old witch that stood in front of his desk as well as their younger colleague who stood by her side, stone-faced as ever. "This cannot wait, Minerva. In the meantime, I expect the two of you to keep things in order until I return. I should not be gone long."

"Very well, sir," said McGonagall with a nod of the head. She turned towards the younger man to see if he had anything to add to the conversation but he remained silent.

A strained silence hovered over the group. Dumbledore did not dismiss them. Instead he paced and acted as though he had something more to say. McGonagall dared not interrupt his train of thought. She often glanced between the two men as Snape looked at her from the corner of his eye, each waiting for the other to say something. The toe of his left shoe tapped on the floor just enough to stand out in the tranquility of the room.

"Was there something else, Headmaster?" Snape asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

Dumbledore leaned back on his desk and nodded. He chose his next words carefully.

"I hope to not be returning alone," he said. "Tell me, do either of you know what happens to a witch or wizard should they not be trained to wield and tame their magic?"

"No," said McGonagall, maternal concern evident in her tone. "Surely that cannot be possible. How would anyone come to that?"

Snape shook his head but his dark eyes sparkled with interest. His foot was no longer tapping upon the floor.

"A young witch or wizard without proper training in their adolescence may become… susceptible," said Dumbledore.

"Susceptible to what, Albus?" asked McGonagall.

"I do not know for sure," he said, popping a lemon drop into his mouth as he thought. He savored the flavor for a moment then swallowed what was left of the sour candy. "But should I convince her family to let her come to Hogwarts, I want the two of you to keep your best eye on her. This," he said, gesturing around his office, "may all seem a bit strange."

"What age are we talking about?" asked McGonagall. She continued to look at Snape while she spoke, becoming agitated as she was the only one asking questions while he stood by to 'observe and report.'

"Fifteen," he said. "To make matters worse she is muggle-born and has no knowledge of her capabilities." Before McGonagall or Snape had a chance to start launching questions at him, Dumbledore put the subject to rest with a wave of his hand. "We will discuss more on this after I procure her placement within the school. There is no need to think on things that may not come to pass."

With that, he dismissed the two teachers to join the rest of the school in the Great Hall for dinner and walked to the back of his office. Standing out on the open balcony, he closed his eyes for a moment and took in the scent of a breeze. Then, he disappeared into thin air with a pop.

Millie sat alone on the swings, making patterns in the loose dirt with the tips of her tennis shoes. Summer was coming to an end too fast for her liking. The days were already growing shorter and before long the air would chill as the sun set. Soon, it would be time to head home for supper.

She raised her head to look up at the position of the setting sun just as one of the younger children approached her. A group of them had been playing near the merry-go-round for hours and she wondered what kept them from getting motion sickness. Even the back and forth motion of a good swing could give Millie a dizzy sensation.

The little girl from the group drew near her with ease and hoisted herself up on the swing next to Millie, trying to stretch her feet to the ground to draw like the older girl had been doing just moments ago.

"What's your name?" she asked. She struggled to reach over and extend her small hand for a shake.

Millie hesitated for a moment then took the girl's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "I'm Millie. What's yours?" She tried her best to hide the grimace on her face and quickly took her hand back.

"Lisa," the little girl said, unfazed by Millie's sudden withdrawal.

Millie smiled softly as the girl seemed to give up on reaching the ground with her toes. Her brunette pigtails were parted evenly down the center of her skull. Not one shiny hair was out of place.

"Are you new here?" Lisa asked.

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

"America," said Millie.

"Why did you move?"

"It was my parents' decision. Something to do with their work."

"Is that why you don't have any friends?" asked Lisa. "Because you don't know anybody?"

Millie shrugged. "I guess. Why aren't you with your friends?"

"You looked lonely," said Lisa. Millie's eyes softened at her sweetness. "You can come play with us."

"I think I'm a little too old to play with you guys. Your parents might not approve."

"Why not?"

"You'll understand when you're older," said Millie.

"That's what my dad tells me," said the younger girl with sadness in her voice.

"Lisa," Millie started, "when you father says that to you… the thing he's doing to you…he shouldn't be doing."

Lisa shot up from the swing and stood rigid for a moment, staring at Millie with an odd expression. She took one step back and fidgeted with her fingers. "Do you know my daddy?"

"No."

The girl looked uneasy. "Then what- I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Did he tell you that, too?" asked Millie.

Lisa nodded but refused to look up at Millie.

Just drop it. "Your father has light brown hair and blue eyes?" And a shit-eating grin.

"So you do know him?"

"No. I told you I didn't."

Lisa's brow furrowed and she pouted her lips, still looking away.

"Look," Millie said, looking back into the setting sun. "He is right. You will understand when you're older but don't expect it to make you happy. It isn't really my place but you shouldn't be afraid to tell another adult."

"But he's my daddy."

"I know but that doesn't mean that everything he does is right. That's something you'll understand when you're older, too. It's the ones who claim to love us who make us hate ourselves the most and the ones we look up to who let us down."

Lisa took a hesitant step closer to Millie. She dared herself to look up only to find Millie's eyes lost in the light of the dying sun, entranced by its beauty. "How did you know?" she whispered.

Millie rose from the swing. She took one last look at the little girl and smiled sadly. "I have to go now," she said and walked away, leaving Lisa to stare at her retreating form.

All the way home, Millie thought about Lisa. It was clear she had frightened the girl. So much for a new start, she thought. She might be in new surroundings but she was the same old Millie with this same old problems.

Frustrated, she looked down past her knobby knees and kicked the pebbles in the street. No one ever understood her. Half of the time she did not even understand herself. The doctors had ruled out telekinesis when it came to the strange things that happened in her presence. Her main concern was the visions. She had no control over them- when they appeared or how long they lasted. Most of the time she could not decipher if they were even real.

She had driven herself crazy thinking about it all. Crazy. That's what I am. Were some of them dreams? Were they all real? Did they all happen in the past? The future? Both? No one had ever been able to address her concerns and worst of all there was no support from her parents. "Don't tell people you see things, they'll think you're mad," they would say. Or, "You shouldn't tangle yourself in others' lives. You only seem to make things worse." It was hard to fit in when you saw the things Millie saw.

The night fell as the sun finally lowered below the horizon and Millie ran along the final blocks to their new home in Tavistock. She walked in the front door and announced her arrival. Greeted by the smell of food, she hurried into the kitchen to find that her parents had company for dinner.

Her mother and father were both silent but their eyes acknowledged her as she walked into the room. They seemed dazed as though they were in a state of shock but there was no sense of dread. The atmosphere was curious but nothing alarming.

Millie looked towards her parents' guest and saw him to be quite an old man with the long sort of beard that was often seen in fantasy stories. His white hair was coarse and his face crinkled around the eyes as he smiled and nodded towards Millie. She smiled back and watched as the old man stood. His movements were slow but sturdy and she realized as he turned that he wore a long, pointed cap and heavily embroidered robes of rich colouring.

"You must be Ms. Fairholm," he said, walking towards her with his hands clasped in front of him.

She thought about taking his hand but hesitated, as always. It did not go unnoticed.

"It is all right, my dear, there is no reason to be alarmed. You've no need to shake my hand if it makes you uncomfortable that is perfectly fine."

"I'm sorry," Millie said.

"Don't be," he replied and there was a bright twinkle within his blue eyes that made her feel secure. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of a local school here in England."

"I thought I was to start with secondary school at Tavistock College next week?" she asked, shifting her gaze toward her parents.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid there has been a change of plans. I just spoke with your parents and they have agreed to let you come away to our school, Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

"Yes," said the old man. "Please, let us sit." He gestured towards the kitchen table as though he was in his own home, offering a seat to a guest. Millie sat down across from him, intrigued by the man and his odd ways.

"Ms. Fairholm-"

"Millie, please."

"Millie, Hogwarts is a special kind of school," he said.

Oh, great. They've finally done it. They're sending me to a crazy house. Millie thought that the man was reading her mind or that her expression had given away her thoughts because the man smiled reassuringly without any other prompt.

"Hogwarts is a school of magic."

Her eyes lit up for a brief moment but then she scrunched her face in confusion and disbelief. "Magic?"

"Yes. Have you ever made something happen- something that you couldn't explain?"

Millie nodded. "Lights flicker when I'm really angry or dishes may rattle when I'm upset. Sometimes I even feel like my emotions reflect in the weather. Perhaps, it's just the other way around."

Dumbledore shook his head. "At Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry we can teach you how to control that magic. There, you will meet others like yourself."

"When do I start?" Millie could hardly believe the excitement in her voice and could not stop the words before they left her mouth.

The older man seemed pleased by her reaction. "Well we will spend tomorrow getting your school robes, books and supplies… and your wand, no doubt."

"I get a wand?"

He nodded and chuckled at her amazement. "Most children start at Hogwarts at the age of 11. I was surprised to see that your home country had neglected your magical education. Do any of you know why this has happened?" He looked towards her parents as he posed the question, the smile had momentarily faded from his lips.

Millie was confused and could not read her parents' expressions. They both hesitated for a moment before shaking their heads.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "I can look into that at a later date but for now, Millie, are you ready to leave?"

"I have nothing packed."

"No worries," he said, "Your things will be sent for and delivered to your rooms tonight. You will be staying in Diagon Alley and by tomorrow evening, settled into our castle."

Millie's heart skipped a beat at the thought of living in a castle. There were very few castles in America and they were dinky in comparison to the grand and ancient structures of Europe. She glanced over towards her parents who seemed mixed about her departure. She did not know how long the man had been here talking to them but it was long enough that they did not object to her leaving. Part of them seemed saddened, the other relieved.

Saying goodbye was an odd affair. It seemed that Dumbledore had taken care of what needed to be said. It was sudden and the whole thing was a shock but Millie felt electrified. Awake for the first time in a long time, her senses tingled with anticipation. This is it. This is the answer I've been waiting for. I'm finally going to belong.

When all was said and done, Dumbledore walked up beside Millie and held out his arm. "All you need to do is grab hold of my arm and we will be on our way but mind you, most are queasy after their first trip."

Millie frowned. "I get motion sickness on a children's swing."

"Then I advise you not to play quidditch," he said and before she could stop herself and ask what he had meant, her raised hand touched the fabric upon his arm and the vision of her new kitchen was gone.

Millie felt her feet touch the ground then she stumbled forward as her body was thrown unexpectedly. The old man did not try to steady her but simply waited as she rose to her feet. She steadied herself on a nearby wall and clutched her stomach. With a groan she stuck her head between her knees, inhaling deeply until she felt her wooziness subside.

Standing up straight and looking around, Millie became engulfed by her surroundings. Diagon Alley made her feel like she had walked straight into a Gothic novel. The streets were mostly clear of traffic except for a few stragglers who looked to be closing up shop for the night. To her great dismay, all of the tiny window squares of the quaint shops were dark. Dumbledore directed her towards a small inn amongst a cluster of buildings where a young woman had shown her to her rooms on the third floor.

"Your dinner will be sent up," said Dumbledore from the doorway, not entering without permission. "Do not trouble yourself with money; your stay tonight has already been taken care of. You will find your belongings in your trunk and I must advise you not to leave this room until I collect you tomorrow morning. As you have no wand and no knowledge of how to use magic, I think it is best that you stay here. You will be well?"

Millie nodded when she truthfully had no idea. If she did not think she could handle staying in a room in a foreign place by herself, what other option did she have? I'm a big girl. I've spent most of my life alone. What's the trouble?

Dumbledore closed the door as he left and Millie took the time to sort through her trunk and study her surroundings. All of her toiletries and necessary clothes had been neatly packed. The trunk was not even half full but then again she had never been one to cling to things. The room overall was clean but lifeless. The colours were drab and gloomy; the windows provided a boring view of building roofs that were all too close together for her liking. At least it's quiet. It would do fine enough for the night.

Before long there was a knock on the door and the voice of the young woman from earlier announced that her supper was there. She allowed her in and watched from the doorway as she set a tray of food on the far table.

"Just leave the tray when you're finished," she instructed. "It will be collected in the morning after you leave."

With those final words, the young woman left the room and Millie shut the door behind her, wondering if she too was a witch. Wouldn't everyone here be a witch or wizard?

After eating she realized how tired she was. Her mind felt drained, her emotions taxed. The move to England had taken a lot out of her and her sleeping habits were beginning to normalize.

She washed up and changed into her pajamas, getting ready for a good night's sleep. She flipped the covers back and crawled into bed, taking one last look at the room before turning the nearby oil lamp down. Her mind raced as she began to drift off but no visions came. Part of her hated that they never came when she expected or wanted them too. After all, she never saw any of this coming. She thought of the only things she knew. Tomorrow, the humble old man would take her to a school within a castle where she would wield a wand and tame magic. With thoughts of hope and promise, she finally fell asleep.

By midday Millie was already exhausted. She had learned a lot in the few hours she had spent with Albus Dumbledore. Walking through the streets of Diagon Alley, she became educated in the sport of Quidditch and quickly learned the definition of things like 'muggle' and 'patronus.'

After being fitted for her robes, she sampled some ever-popular butter-beer during lunch and was introduced to the world of wizard banking at Gringotts.

"Your parents have allowed you a reasonable sum to start out with for school supplies," he said. He continued with an explanation of knuts and galleons versus pounds or even US dollars. "Gringotts is one of the safest places," he said as they left. Grumpy as the goblins were, she found that she rather liked them.

The last stop before she got to see the glorious castle that she was to call home was Ollivander's wand shop.

"What about books?" she asked.

"First we must get caught up on everything you've missed. That's four years of magic. You will begin with heavy remedial lessons. We will use books that are in the school for that."

"I won't be learning with the other students?"

"Not yet," he said. "But so far I've sensed a sharp mind and an eagerness to learn. It will not be long before you are with your fellow 5th years."

"How many years are there?" she asked as they entered into the wand shop.

"Seven."

Obtaining her own wand was something she had looked forward to since the moment it was mentioned but her glee quickly subsided as it ended up being the longest stop of the day. It took hours as the three of them went through every single wand in the shop and not one supposedly matched Millie.

"The wand chooses the wizard," Mr. Ollivander had said repeatedly but it only made matters worse. Just like everything else in her life, she was the odd man out, the black sheep, the ugly duckling, etc. No wand chose her. A sense of dread ran through her blood. What if this means he made a mistake and I am not a witch or meant to go to a special school? What if this is all taken away from me?

As the two older men conversed in whispers near the corner, Dumbledore's words from the previous evening ran through her head. Most children start at Hogwarts at the age of 11. How many children did not start at 11? Were there many others who came into their magical education at such a late age? She made it a point to ask Dumbledore when the time was right.

"Curious," Dumbledore said, catching her attention. Millie looked up to find both men looking at her.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander. "You may be on to something." The wand maker vanished behind the counter and Dumbledore escorted Millie out of the shop.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "I can't do magic without a wand, right?"

"I think I may just have your wand in my office. I was saving it for someone else but I think perhaps it might be just the wand that has been waiting for you." There was a twinkle in his eye as he offered his arm again. Millie dreaded the sensation.

Before she took his arm, he spoke again. "I do have the option of taking us straight to my office since school is in session as of this past Monday and there will be students bouncing around the grounds. However, I think it unfair to deny any student the first glimpse of Hogwarts from its main entrance. It is truly a beautiful castle."

With those final words of encouragement, Millie took the Headmaster's arm and her stomach tensed as she felt the now familiar pull of apparation.

"You'll get accustomed to it," said Dumbledore as Millie collected her senses.

He led her through a large iron gate at the edge of a thin outcropping of trees. With a large lake on one side, they walked in silence down a ruddy dirt path until they finally came to a clearing. Millie gasped at the sight of the castle in the distance. There was still much land to cover before they reached the entrance but on the way there she observed uniformed students running about the grounds.

"That hut there," he said, "belongs to Rubeus Hagrid, our groundskeeper. I must ask you not to be alarmed by his size. He is a gentle man with a great love for strange, and some would say dangerous, creatures."

Dumbledore made light commentary as they neared the castle. There was no doubt he sensed her uneasiness as she was still in her 'muggle' clothing. I bet I stand out like a sore thumb.

Walking up the large staircase and into the castle, Millie pre-occupied herself with examining her surroundings as she shuffled along next to Dumbledore. I am so going to get lost. Amidst high ceilings and vast corridors were numerous stairways. It did not help that they moved on their own accord.

She ignored most everyone that they passed, not appreciating all of the attention. Dumbledore greeted every curious passer-by with a grandfatherly salutation but the longer they walked, it seemed the faster his pace became. By the time they reached the statue of a gargoyle and stopped, Millie was out of breath.

"Behind this gargoyle is my office," he said. "You are welcome anytime. You need only say the password."

Before Millie could inquire as to what the password was, Dumbledore turned to the statue and proudly said, "Oddsbodikins."

She watched in amazement as the Gargoyle nodded in their direction then stepped to the side, revealing a narrow, spiral staircase that led to a dark, wooden door. Once inside Dumbledore's office, Millie was instructed to take a seat in front of his desk.

"Feel free to examine my office as we wait. You see I have already sent for four of your professors. But if you would excuse me for a moment, I also wish to request another member of our staff."

Millie nodded and folded her hands in her lap as Dumbledore headed over to a portrait of an equally bearded man. She wrinkled her brow as he began to address the portrait but her eyebrows shot up as the man in the portrait moved and answered back.

"If you would please fetch Madam Pince, for me," he had said. "It is nothing urgent but I do wish to see her in my office."

The man in the portrait responded cordially then left the frame. Millie knew a lot of questions would creep up but she decided it was best to simply accept the way things worked for now and if the questions still existed or felt important at a later date, then they would still be worth asking.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"You had said last evening that most children start learning magic at the age of 11."

Dumbledore nodded for her to continue but before she could get the next words out, there was a knock on the headmaster's door.

"Come in," he said with an apologetic look towards Millie. "We will continue that thought later, but for now I'd like you to meet some of your new teachers."

Millie stood and turned to greet them as four individuals stepped into the room. The first was a jolly round woman whose hands were worn and weathered but clean. The second was a tall, frail and much elderly looking woman with spectacles upon her nose and a pointed hat. Third was an incredibly short man with hair like Dumbledore's and lastly was a tall, slender man whose heels clicked upon the floor as he walked. He was vastly younger than the rest of the professors, probably around 30 or so, and clad all in black.

"This is Ms. Mildred Fairholm," Dumbledore said. "She just moved here from overseas but has no prior training when it comes to magic. That being said, this year will be spent pushing through remedial lessons for the four years she has missed. I will have her schedule sent to you all by the end of the evening."

Dumbledore turned away from the professors and towards Millie who involuntarily crossed an arm over her stomach, feeling out of place while still dressed in her muggle clothing. She felt uncomfortable and ignorant standing next to these people. It was as though they were staring her down and she feared they were already passing some sort of judgment, especially the man clad in black who glared down his misshapen nose at her.

No doubt they were taking in her knobby knees, her protruding elbows and freckled face. Girls of her age were supposed to be developing the body of a woman but Millie remained small-hipped and small-chested. She had little curvature to her frame and what were often referred to as 'chicken legs.' Her mouth was too wide for her face and any beauty queen would be able to tell that with her brown eyes, that shade of blonde hair was not natural.

"Our most important task this evening is to sort you," he said.

"Sort me?"

"There are four houses here at Hogwarts. Each is as important and worthy as the other in my eyes. These four professors each head one of the houses. Professor Sprout," he said gesturing to the round woman, "is head of Hufflepuff. McGonagall is head of Gryffindor. Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw and Snape, head of Slytherin House." He pointed to each professor as he introduced their names and positions. "Regardless of which house you are sorted into, all four will remain your professor."

Dumbledore guided Millie back over to the chair but turned it around so that it faced the entrance to his office and the four teachers. From the top of a high shelf, he used his wand to bring down an ancient looking wizard's hat that was made of worn brown leather. Before she knew what was going on, Dumbledore began to place the hat on her head yet the hat had not touched a hair before it bellowed, "RAVENCLAW!"

Three of the professors looked quite happy and satisfied with the outcome as Dumbledore placed the hat back where it came from. However, Snape seemed relieved.

"Is it supposed to happen that fast?" Millie asked, alarmed that she had not actually worn the hat.

"It happens," Dumbledore said with a shrug. "But this is a good thing. As a Ravenclaw you should be able to conquer your remedial lessons without the struggles that others might have."

"Professors, you may go. I will escort Ms. Fairholm to her dormitory once I tie up some last minute business."

All four professors bid their goodbyes and exited the office. As soon as they were by themselves again, Dumbledore began searching his desk drawers for something. He beckoned Millie over to his desk and handed her a long, thin box that he had retrieved from the bottom left drawer. Millie took the lid off to see a wand, like so many of the others she had tried earlier that day.

"Willow. 10 1/4 inches," he said. "Go on, give it a try."

As Millie took the piece of wood in her hand, her very skin seemed to hum. She could feel the energy rushing through her and looked up to the headmaster with excitement.

"Does this mean it chooses me?" she asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes."

"How did you know that this one would work? And why it is here instead of in a shop?"

"It used to belong to a wonderful student of mine. A Gryffindor," he said. "She was one of the kindest people you could ever hope to meet."

"What happened to her?" Millie asked.

Dumbledore was pensive for a moment then shook his head. "It was a horrible tragedy but never you mind. It is well in the past and her wand needs a new witch. It is yours now and I've been told it is good for charms which is an excellent match as Flitwick, your head of house, is also your Charms professor."

Millie smiled and trailed her fingers along the intricate design of the handle. "What do the other three professors teach?"

"Sprout will be your Herbology professor. That should be easily enough to remember. McGonagall will instruct you in Transfiguration and Snape conducts his Potions classes within the dungeons of the castle."

"Ah," he continued, lifting a finger, "before I forget. Your belongings and new robes will be awaiting you in your dormitory but I created a lesson schedule for you last night." He handed a long bit of parchment over to Millie.

Her eyes scanned the sheet. It read:

September: 1st year Transfiguration, 1st year Charms, 1st year History of Magic, 1st year Care of Magical Creatures, 1st year Flying.

"Flying?"

"Yes. I figured it best that we get that out of the way. Also, you will not be taking any of our Muggle Studies courses. I'm sure you are well versed in the way of the world you grew up in and a class like that would only seek to slow you down and take precious time away from the things you will need to learn."

Millie nodded and her eyes continued down the parchment.

October: 1st year Potions, 1st year Herbology, 1st year Defense Against the Dark Arts, 1st year Divination.

Millie felt the blood drain from her face and her mouth go dry at the sight of Divination. That will be interesting.

Every month those same classes alternated and repeated back and forth, increasing to 2nd, 3rd and 4th year. The only exceptions were Flying only being taught 1st year- thank God!- and Astronomy being added in July for the last of her 5th year lessons.

Wait a minute. "School lasts through July?"

"The end of June. However, in order to have you catch up with other witches and wizards of your age we will have to keep you for an extra month. You will stay here in the castle and are free to return home for the month of August. I informed you parents that this was a possibility and that I would notify them when the time came."

"After making it through this year, your mind will be used to a heavier work load then most, no doubt. As such, during your 6th and 7th years here you are more than welcome to take up electives such as Ancient Runes or Arithmancy to help keep your mind busy."

"I mean this in no light terms, Ms Fairholm, but this year you will be driven in all of your subjects to finish on time. If I didn't think you could do it, I wouldn't have suggested such a demanding schedule."

Just then there was another knock at his office door. As he beckoned the knocker to enter, Millie turned to see a middle-aged witch with grey hair pulled back in a bun enter the room.

"Madam Pince," he addressed her. "This is the new student I had spoken to you about this morning, Mildred Fairholm."

"Has she been sorted then?" she asked after a quick 'how do you do?'

"Ravenclaw," Dumbledore said.

"So I should expect you in the library quite often?"

Millie looked towards Dumbledore before replying with, "Sure."

"Ms. Fairholm will be granted access to the library at all times of the day due to her intense remedial lessons this year. Please allow her the courtesy of staying until 11 at night but I really must stress the fact," he said turning back towards Millie, "that though you are not very familiar with school rules and the dangers that can lurk near and around the grounds… I expect you to be in your dormitory at that time of night if not in the library. Normal curfew is to be inside your house common rooms by 9pm."

Millie nodded and Madam Pince was dismissed. With her new wand in tow, Dumbledore escorted her out of his office and towards Ravenclaw Tower.

"Don't be alarmed should an owl fly in your window tonight. I will send a schedule along with a rough map to all of your lessons," he said whilst walking down the hall. "I expect to see you at dinner in the Great Hall with the rest of your house. Ravenclaws sit on the first table to the left as you enter the hall and please come in uniform. The only times you are permitted out of uniform is on weekends, holidays and after dinner, of course."

Ravenclaw tower was located on the west end of the castle. At the top of a spiral staircase, they reached the door to the common rooms on the 5th floor. There was no handle or knob with which to open the door and Millie looked at Dumbledore quizzically. He studied the bronze knocker on the door for a moment. Before any words were spoken, the eagle knocker opened its beak and began to speak.

"A blue house is made of blue bricks. A yellow house is made of yellow bricks. A red house is made of red bricks. An orange house is made of orange bricks. What would a green house be made of?" the eagle knocker asked.

Dumbledore looked over at Millie who looked back at him and shrugged.

"Glass," he said and the door gave way, opening into the Ravenclaw common rooms.

Dumbledore explained that other common rooms had passwords like his office but Ravenclaw was unique in that it required an answer to a riddle. "But if answered incorrectly, you must wait for someone to answer properly before the door will swing open."

Great. I will never get in without help.

Millie gasped as she entered the Ravenclaw commons. "It's beautiful," she said to no one in particular. She could not believe that this was to be her new home. The room was bright and airy with large plump furniture and a high domed ceiling. It was circular and spacious, very clean and welcoming. Adorned with shades of blue and bronze, she could not help but run and jump onto one of the plush couches, giggling as her knees knocked together.

"You will find your rooms up those stairs," he said, pointing to the left. "Since dormitories were already assigned for this year, your room you will have to yourself. With your remedial lessons it will provide a quiet place to study. Should you wish to study with others feel free to do so in this room here, in the library or in the Great Hall after dinner is cleared from the tables at 7pm."

"Look forward to my owl," he said, turning to leave. "Never leave without your wand, take it with you everywhere and don't forget about dinner."

"First table to the left," Millie repeated with a smile.

As soon as he left, she bounded up the stairs and into her rooms, anxious to throw on her uniform. She looked in the mirror as she straightened her blue and bronze tie, excited to feel like she was finally a part of something.