Diagon Alley was a godsend. It had everything I could ever imagine; everything I needed and wanted. It was perfect for all my plans. All the supplies I needed could be attained—it was just the matter of getting them.

It was an abuse of my family's ancestry to use the family vault for my personal means, but I'd never been more thankful we were rich.

When mum took all of us to Diagon Alley, it took a lot of begging, tears, bribes that didn't work, and whining for mum to finally let me go off by myself for a while. She didn't want us to get separated, so I had to promise to meet her back at Flourish and Blotts in two hours. Fabian and Gideon ran off by themselves as well, and Molly stayed with our mum like the good daughter she was.

I walked aimlessly, gripping my new wand in my hand and enjoying the feeling of having one. Although I wouldn't be able to do any magic outside of Hogwarts, just having the wand was a major boost of power for me.

The whole place was crowded since all the parents were fighting to get supplies for all the new first years going to Hogwarts, so I hugged the sides and the paths with less people. All the crowding was starting to make me feel suffocated, so I barged through the mass of people, pushing my way through to try and get to a sparsely populated area.

I was so fixated on trying to get away that I ended up in a dark and musty alley without even noticing how I got there. The alley was narrow and shadowed, the buildings smothering whatever natural sunlight that tried to make its way into the path. There weren't many people, but the few that were there slouched against the walls in ratty robes and leered at me as I tried to get by.

Well, there went my plan for trying to find some good items for mild explosions.

My skin crawled and the stares felt eerily malicious, but I straightened my back and kept my head up, pushing away my fear. Showing any weakness would make them more inclined to approach me. And besides, it was an almost exciting situation—my heart pounded loudly in my chest, and it felt like something surreal; like something I could never experience.

Adrenalin was thrumming through my veins, and I discreetly watched my surroundings from the corners of my eyes. Thankfully, I'd worn black robes that didn't make me look wealthy or well off, and though the witches and wizard's eyes followed me, they didn't try to approach me.

I took a deep breath and let it out; pushing away my fear. I'd make the most out of this situation while trying to find my way back to Diagon Alley. The only issue was finding someone trustworthy enough to give me the right directions.

The shops were a sharp contrast from the ones in Diagon Alley—they were dark, small, and seedy. There were no flashy signs or warm colors—just a cold, lonely area.

I stopped at a relatively cleaner looking shop and glanced at the moldy wooden sign above it. It read "Wizarding Supplies". The name of the shop looked relatively harmless—a lot better than one that I'd seen called "The Coffin Shop"—so I walked in. The door creaked slowly as I opened it, and I shifted uneasily before walking in. Hopefully no one would be stupid enough to try and murder me—it would be too obvious and whoever tried to kill me would easily get caught. An eleven year old girl going missing in a shady area would be a blazing neon sign.

The shopkeeper looked up as I stepped in and narrowed his eyes. He was an old man with brown, sunken eyes and thin white hair.

"Who might you be?" He croaked. His voice creaked with old age and something else I couldn't identify.

I looked around at the items in his shop and noted that everything was a lot more interesting than the ones I'd ever seen before. If I could, I'd definitely come here again.

"I'm Gen." I left out my last name on purpose and tried to gauge his reaction.

"What do you want?" He didn't even bother asking why someone like me was here, and just glared down at me.

I debated internally with myself. Should I ask him for directions or not? He seemed harmless, but then again, lots of serial killers seem normal before they kill their victims.

"Can I see your trash?" I blurted, my mind blanking out on me.

"What?" His eyebrows raised in surprise and I nearly bit my cheek off from trying not to laugh at my idiotic question.

"It's for a personal project." I continued, deciding that I might as well keep up with the lie. It was only a partial lie, anyway. I really was looking for something for my plans. "I'm looking for some items."

"Yeah right, kid. Get outta here." He sent me a disbelieving nasty look and I stuck my tongue out at him childishly before turning around to leave.

"I guess you won't mind if I go through your trash then!" I yelled cheekily as I ran out the door. I didn't bother waiting for a reply and went straight to the back of his shop, looking for the trash.

Ha. That'd show him. I thrust my hands into the pile of discarded objects in the bin and was relived to find that it didn't smell bad.

I rummaged through a few things, looking for something that would be useful to me. It was just a bunch of broken flasks, weird looking skulls (I stayed far away from those), and a few other objects I couldn't identify.

There was a shiny silver ring with a dark red jewel that caught my eye. I briefly wondered why it was in the trash but shrugged my shoulders and reached for it. Another man's trash was another man's treasure, right?

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" A deep, gruff voice suddenly interrupted me from my task.

I looked up to see a young man, possibly in his early twenties, glaring down at me with sharp blue eyes.

Sweet baby Jesus.

He was hot. Tall, dark, and handsome? Check.

I blinked up at him and grinned widely. I hadn't been around any attractive males—well males that weren't under the age of 18—and in my first time in a creepy place, I'd hit the jackpot.

"Nothing!" I chirped, and pulled my hands innocently out of the dumpster. "Can't a girl dig through the trash when she wants to?"

He squinted suspiciously at me. "What are you doing here?"

That was a good question.

"I dunno." I told him honestly. I straightened up from my crouched position and shifted the bag on my shoulder, trying to look as harmless as possible. Which wasn't hard to do, considering that I was a tiny eleven year old girl.

The young man grunted and shrugged, losing interest now that I'd stopped whatever I was doing. He ruffled his dark, curly hair, gave me one last long look, and walked away.

Was I going to let the hottest guy I'd seen since I was reborn get away? Hell no.

So like any average and self-respecting person, I followed him.

Once I had strayed behind him for long enough to look suspicious, he stopped and turned around.

"Are you following me?" He asked angrily, his lips curling into a growl.

"Yeah." I answered happily, not looking the slightest bit alarmed.

"Why?" He demanded. The air seemed to shift around him, and instinctively, the hairs on the back of my neck raised. Something primal was screaming at me that this guy was dangerous.

I ignored it.

"Because I want to."

"Stop it. This isn't a place for a kid to be anyway. Where are your parents?"

I shrugged and answered vaguely. "Somewhere. And I'm not a kid."

"Sure you aren't." Sarcasm laced his voice with angry barbs. "Now scram; I don't have time to deal with a bratty kid."

I bristled and frowned at being called a bratty kid. "I am not."

He sighed wearily and pinched the bridge of his nose with irritation. "Whatever. Just get outta here."

There was a slight accent to his words that I hadn't noticed before. It was kind of strange, because mostly everyone from the Wizarding community in this area had a similar type of speech.

Before I could ask him about it, he huffed and stomped away, looking annoyed. I stood still for a bit before following him, trying to be discreet.

Ha, I'm so sneaky. I smirked smugly.

"Stop following me!" The hot guy's voice echoed from where he was standing, and I nearly groaned with frustration.

How the hell did he even notice me? I should have been far enough to be unnoticeable.

I started sprinting to catch up with his long strides, and by the time I reached him, he'd stopped shooting me wary looks and was now standing in front of a shop colored black everywhere. There wasn't a spot of color—it was just black. The sign above it read "The Spiny Serpent" and the large window displayed a few large vases that seemed to have no use.

The hot guy ignored my presence and grabbed the huge knocker on the wooden door. For a moment, nothing happened, but he gripped his wand and muttered something under his breath. There was a long groaning noise, and the door flew open.

He quickly stepped in and I did the same before the door slammed shut again.

"What are you still doing here?" He asked me irritably, while nodding to the hooded shopkeeper.

I shrugged and skipped over to the shopkeeper who was so heavily cloaked I couldn't even tell if the person was a man or a woman.

"Hi! Who are you?" Even though the shopkeeper looked mildly suspicious, he/she seemed like a cool person to get to know.

The shopkeeper didn't say a word and just peered at me. Or at least it looked like the shopkeeper was watching me; I couldn't even see his/her eyes.

"Ignore her." Grumbled the hot guy, who had apparently given up on trying to get me to stop following him.

"That's mean." I declared, and quickly made my way back to the hot guy's side, who was rolling his eyes.

He walked to the back of the room and did something that I couldn't see—his back was wide enough to cover my view, and I was sadly too short to do any spying.

A secret door popped open, and he stepped through without waiting for me. I slid through the closing door with a huff, annoyed that'd he'd rudely shut the door in my face.

"Who the fuck is this, Elias?" I looked up to see a rough looking middle aged man sitting on a small wooden chair glaring at me.

I scanned the large room, which kinda looked like the inside of a warehouse. It had a single lamp hanging in the middle of the ceiling, which gave off a surprising amount of light, and there were pieces of furniture scattered everywhere with people lounging on them.

"I'm his girlfriend." I chirped, and beamed innocently.

There was a long silence as everyone in the room turned to stare at me.

"Wha—" Spluttered the hot guy, looking at me incredulously.

"Pedophilia, Griggs? Didn't know that was another crime on your track record." A beautiful young woman with long, black hair and icy black eyes deadpanned, arching a thin eyebrow.

She looked a hundred times more badass than anyone else in the room—even with robes on. I ditched the hot guy who was still gaping like a fish and made my way over to her.

"Just kidding! I'm your long lost sister." I smiled widely at her and she gave me a blank look.

"I'm pretty sure my family doesn't have any redheads." She answered blandly.

"It was a genetic defect. I actually have black hair, you just can't see it." I told her solemnly.

"Let's just Obliviate her." Hot guy—whose name was apparently Elias Griggs—offered, gripping me by the scruff of my collar and effectively interrupting my very serious conversation.

"Unhand me, you fool!" I struggled and kicked like an angry chicken.

Unfortunately, I couldn't do much damage in such a small body, and Elias Griggs held me up like I weighed no more than a pillow.

"Wait. What's your name?" Asked the middle aged man who looked like the leader of the ragtag group.

I gave up on struggling and dangled by my collar, the tips of my feet brushing the ground.

"I'll tell you if the rude guy over here stops choking me." I grumbled, glaring at nothing.

"Elias, put her down."

I felt my feet land firmly on the floor and I sighed with relief. Wonderful, glorious air was filling my lungs again and I nearly fell to the ground and started kissing it.

"I'm Curious George." I wasn't about to give them my real name—I wasn't that stupid. And besides, I probably should have been named Curious George anyway. I always managed to stick my nose into other people's business and land myself into a shitload of trouble. Not that I really minded, anyway—getting into trouble was exhilarating, as long as I didn't die.

"Really." The presumed leader gave me a disbelieving and dry look.

"Yup!" I looked around the room, taking note of all the people. There were a total of six people, and all of them seemed to be in the age range of the twenties to forties. The oldest guy was the one talking to me now, and he looked to be around fifty.

"So what's up with this? Are you guys a cool kids group or something?"

No one seemed to understand the Muggle reference.

"We're a crime group. We smuggle in Muggle drugs like cocaine and do other illegal acts." His lips curled and his teeth glinted eerily in the dull lighting. It kinda sounded like he was trying to dumb it down for my physical age, which annoyed me; but I brushed it off.

He paused and seemed like he was waiting for me to say something.

So I did.

Before I could even think about it, the words were out of my mouth. "Cool! Can I join?"

I'd always wanted to be a badass, and this was a pretty badass group.

There was no answer, just silence. I'd probably hit the weirdness quota for their day because no one said anything for a really long time. I counted all the seconds—it was 72 in total.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you want to join a crime group?" The pretty dark-haired woman asked me incredulously.

"Because I want to. Well, can I?" I gave the middle-aged man a fierce stare. "C'mon, just tell me. You're the leader, aren't you?"

"I'm the leader." He agreed. "But that doesn't mean I want a kid to join. Do you even understand the full consequences of what we do?"

"Yeah, you kidding? I'm not an idiot. And I'm not a kid." I kicked out my foot childishly and pouted.

"Well, the answer's no, in any case. You're an interesting one, but I don't need any kids in my organization."

"Hey, Boss, just give her a chance." Called out a young man, who was sitting on a couch with his arms folded. The air around him seemed almost refined; which was strange, considering the setting, and he sat ramrod straight, contrasting clearly with the others, who were slouching.

"Um," I interjected, before the Boss could really think about the problems with letting an eleven year old child join a crime syndicate, "If I can get you something of value, will you let me join?"

The Boss raised an eyebrow. "What do you, a little kid, know about value? Don't underestimate the gravity of the things we do here."

I matched his raised eyebrow with my own. "Do I really seem like I wouldn't understand the meaning of value in this kind of organization? I like to say I'm mature for my age. And besides, I know what I'm getting into."

Actually, I had no idea what I was getting into. Besides the fact that this group consisted of more badassery (besides my mum) than I'd seen the entire time I'd been born into this world, I was clueless.

This was very, very bad, but frankly, I didn't give a shit, as long as I could do what I wanted. And I'd always wanted to be part of a secret organization.

The young man who'd spoken earlier let out a delicate snort (not that snorts could be elegant, but somehow, he made it seem that way). "Well, it wouldn't hurt to let the kid try, right Boss?"

"Black—" The Boss started with irritation, lifting one hand to rub his temples.

"I'll even take an Unbreakable Vow." I offered, looking eager.

The Boss took in a deep breath and let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Fuck no. You're a damn kid!"

"Fine, fine." I grumbled. "How about this? We can go the democratic way. There are eight people in the room, including you, so if five vote to give me a chance, you gotta give me one. Deal?"

There was a general silence in the room that made it feel colder and emptier. Finally, the Boss relented and gave me a terse nod.

"Alright! Let's get this vote going, people!" I cheered.

"Those who want to give this kid a chance, shoot red sparks. Those who don't, shoot blue sparks." The Boss said this like he was in pain, with a very aggravated expression on his face.

I sniggered.

Sparks went up from different areas of the room. I counted five red sparks and glared at Elias Griggs, because he'd shot up blue sparks.

He may have been hot, but he was an arsehole.

"YES!" I cackled, and ran towards the Boss. "So what's the task? I'll do anything—you name it. What do you need? Pots, pans, books?"

I had a strange feeling that half of the people in the room were rolling their eyes and the other half was smirking.

"I want an invisibility cloak. And not those shitty ones that are more useless than a weak Disillusionment charm. No, I'm talking about a real one. One that sells for at least 750 galleons each in the black market."

The Boss grinned like a bloodthirsty shark. It was a near-impossible task for an average eleven year old, and he and I both knew that.

Aw, fuck.

Where the hell was I supposed to get one of those?

"How long do I have?" I asked, trying to stall for time.

"Two months." His tone left no room for argument.

"Heh. Easy peasy. I got this." I bluffed, smirking confidently.

The tiny, almost nonexistent rational side of me was shaking its head furiously.

"We'll do a binding contract." The Boss said decidedly, "So you won't be able to talk about anything related to this group."

"I don't even know the name of the group!" I protested halfheartedly. It wasn't that I really minded; I just didn't want him to have to last word.

"You'll find out if you can complete the objective." His grin was razor-sharp. "Now give me your hand."

Reluctantly, I pulled my hand out from behind my back and offered it to him, like a guilty child.

He reached out to grab it but I thrust it forward and smacked him on the face.

"Ha! Psych!"

The severe-looking, middle-aged Boss of a crime syndicate gaped unattractively, losing his composure.

"Better shut your mouth or you'll catch flies." I stated smugly.

I'd always wanted to use that line.

"You—" He stopped and was at a loss for words.

A red-headed man looking to be around the age of thirty burst out in laughter.

"I like this one, Boss." He gasped out.

The badass dark-haired girl smacked the back of his head.

"Idiots." She muttered, looking at the two of us.

Cheekily, I gave her a thumbs up.

The Boss snatched my hand before I could say or do anything else.

"Repeat after me." He let out a string of Latin words I couldn't really understand and I dutifully repeated them, still inwardly sniggering at his poor attempt to gloss over the whole situation.

He was trying to ignore the whole thing, but I could see a tinge of red on his ears and neck.

A long, silvery mark spiraled from the back of my hand up to my shoulder.

"Uh." I said intelligently. Mum was going to kill me if she ever saw this.

Looks like it was long sleeves for the rest of the summer.

"Don't worry; it's invisible to everyone except for the people in this room." The Boss reassured me with a smug look.

I blinked and saw a similar silvery mark spiraling up his arm.

Elias Griggs, who was standing near me, had a similar mark running up his left arm.

And so did everyone else in the room.

I guess everyone had to do the whole "secrecy" thing before joining.

"Elias, take her back." Now that the whole ordeal was over, the Boss had sunk back into his chair with his arms crossed.

"What, no party?" I asked, disappointed.

Griggs shot me an are-you-kidding-me look.

"Bye!" I waved at the whole room, and no one waved back except for the redheaded man.

"See ya, Curious George!" He called, and I saluted him.

Us redheads gotta stick together.

The young man who'd suggested I get a chance had an amused look on his face, while the badass girl was just looking bored.

Griggs grabbed my collar (again) and dragged me out the door as I sobbed crocodile tears, calling out "I'll be back!" with an outstretched arm.

Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On started playing in my head.

I still remembered watching Titanic, which I'd thought was a colossal failure—mostly because Rose had been too stupid to let Jack hang onto the board with her. Jack could have easily survived, and I'd found the whole "I'll never let go" thing pretty hilarious.

"My heart will go on and onnnnnnnnnn." I deadpanned as Griggs dragged me out the door of The Spiny Serpent.

He gave me a strange look and sighed. "I don't even want to know."

"Your loss." I shrugged, still echoing the lyrics in my mind. "Now let me go."

He dropped me on the ground, where I lay in an undignified heap.

"Gee, thanks." I muttered, rubbing my bum and standing up.

"I'll meet you here in exactly two months when the task is over." He looked like the words were excruciating for him to say, and didn't look too happy at being forced into the role of my caretaker.

I didn't say anything and instead got distracted by the different shops surrounding the area. I hadn't gotten a good look before, mostly because I was trying to keep up with Griggs, but I had plenty of time now.

Or not.

"SHIT!" I cursed, glancing down at my watch.

Three hours had already passed and I was late.

"See you at my funeral." I told Griggs, praying that mum wouldn't skin me alive.

"What?" He asked, his brow furrowing (attractively, I might add).

"I'm late, and I don't know how I got here."

"You—you don't know how you got here?" He looked like he was having a ruptured aneurysm. "I should've known."

"So pretty please, with cherry on top; take me back to Diagon Alley?" I folded my hands and adopted the face of an angel.

"Diagon Alley." I could swear his eye was twitching. "You're from Diagon Alley."

"Yeah?" What was the big deal?

"Never mind." There was an awkward silence. Then, "Why don't you ask what will happen if you don't complete the task?"

"Meh. Why think about that now?" I answered nonchalantly, staring openly at a witch passing by. She looked strangely familiar—and she was young. Like Hogwarts young.

I was lost in my thoughts for a moment as I tried to remember where I'd seen her before.

"Are you even listening?" Griggs snarled with frustration.

"Not really." I replied absently.

"Anyway!" I suddenly said, breaking away from my contemplation. "Can you bring me back? Preferably in five minutes."

"Oh Merlin." Muttered Griggs, "C'mon, let's go."

He steered me in the right direction by gripping my shoulder, and led me down a maze of back alleyways.

It was too complicated for me to remember, so I just let myself get lost in my thoughts—again.

"Did you go to Hogwarts?"

"Not telling." Grunted Griggs.

"Fine. Be that way." I glowered. I was just trying to make casual conversation.

"Not telling." I mimicked him rudely under my breath.

"I heard that." He snapped.

"Bleh." I stuck my tongue out. "So why do you guys want an invisibility cloak anyway?"

"Because good invisibility cloaks are rare. Most of them are useless, but people always try to sell fakes as ones of quality." He stopped talking and considered me for a moment.

"And?" I prompted, curious as to why he stopped.

"And we're trying to make our own invisibility cloak. It's hard to tell if the cloak's absolute shite until you buy it, and by then, it's already too late. We need a good one to break down its enchantments." Then grudgingly, he added, "Allyena's brilliant with that. She's our enchantment and warding expert."

Allyena? Who was that?

I ran through my memory of the room, and deduced that Allyena must be the last name of the badass girl—she was the only female, after all.

Ha—deduced. I could be Sherlock Holmes of the Wizarding World.

Griggs shot me another strange look when I giggled to myself.

"Just because I'm telling you all this doesn't mean I think you'll get in. In fact, I'm a hundred percent sure you'll fail. It'll take a miracle for you to finish the assignment."

"Wanna bet on that?" It didn't matter that he didn't think I could do it—all that mattered was that I believed I could.

(This kind of thinking would get me killed one day, but hopefully that was in the far future.)

"No. I'm not taking money from a kid."

"Dammit." I really wanted those Galleons. "Well, you'll owe me ten Galleons if I can do it."

"What." He deadpanned, "I never agreed to that."

"You just did!" The bright, familiar red bricks of Diagon Alley came into view. "Looks like we're here; so no take backs! You owe me ten Galleons when I get in."

"If you get in." He stressed the if.

I rubbed my hands together evilly. "Oh, we'll see about that."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, "Just get going, kid. I've got places to be, people to see."

"See ya later, alligator. Make sure you have ten Galleons on hand for next time!" I gave him a thumbs up and scurried off to where I was supposed to meet my family an hour ago.

"I don't even know what that thumb thing means." I could hear him mutter as I ran off.

Heh. Wizards.

Being a Muggle in my past life was a huge advantage that I'd be overusing the hell out of. It was hilarious seeing magical people confused by my Muggle expressions and actions.

The gold and brown exterior of Flourish and Blotts came into view, and I steeled myself for an explosion from my mum.

Slowly, I pushed the door open. And saw my mum and sister staring at me.

"Genevieve Mauria Prewett. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN." Mum's face was bright scarlet with rage, and she trembled furiously.

"Well, some guy offered me candy so I followed him and then lotsa stuff happened. There was a crazy toad and—"

Mum cut me off mid-ramble. "This is not a joke. Do you know how worried I was? I've been looking EVERYWHERE for you. Good thing Molly decided we should stay here in case you came—your brothers are still outside looking for you! When we go home, I'm putting a tracking spell on your watch!"

"But mum, I didn't mean to! I just lost track of time. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it! Our whole family has been searching for you—do you know how much worry and trouble you caused us?"

"It wasn't even my fault; I got lost! And besides, it isn't even that big of a deal. Nothing happened!" I protested angrily, wishing that mum would just stop yelling already.

"Not a big deal?" Screeched mum, "You could've gotten hurt—or worse, killed! We searched the entirety of Diagon Alley for you, and you weren't there! You were at Knockturn Alley, weren't you? After all the times I told you not to go there!"

"I told you, I got lost! It's not my fault! Stop making such a big deal out of this!"

"You could have gotten killed. Killed! Do you even know how vicious those witches and wizards in Knockturn Alley are? Are you even sorry?"

"Mum, nothing happened! And I am sorry; just stop being so mad! I didn't do anything wrong—I got lost and I couldn't get back until now!"

"That's not the point!" In her anger, mum looked like a giant. Her chest heaved violently and her arms were folded tightly.

"Okay, okay. Sorry!" I grumbled unhappily. I seriously hadn't done anything wrong.

"Molly, go fetch your brothers." Mum said in a tight voice.

"Yes mum." Molly scampered out the door anxiously.

After she left, mum turned to me. "You, Genevieve Prewett, are not leaving my sight for the rest of the summer. You're grounded!"

"Mum!" I gaped at her, horrified. If I was grounded, I wouldn't be able to go to Diagon Alley. And then I wouldn't be able to find an invisibility cloak.

"You're grounded." She repeated firmly, glaring at me.

Roughly, she gripped my arm and marched me out the shop to meet up with my siblings.

Molly reappeared with Gideon and Fabian, who shook their heads at me, as if to say, really?

I shot daggers at them.

The way back home was dead silence, and I ran straight up to my room when we got back and slammed the door.

I was acting like a petulant and spoiled child, but I didn't care. I didn't care that I was an adult; that I should be handling the whole problem maturely. All I could see was the unfairness of the situation, and my temper flared with the injustice of it all.

It must have been some time—I couldn't tell—but Molly knocked on my door after a while.

I knew it was her because it was a single, soft knock.

"What." I said irritably.

"It's time for dinner." She answered, voice muffled by the door.

"I'm not hungry."

"Gen," she sighed, "Let me in."

I got up from my huddled turtle-like position under the blankets and shuffled to the door.

My hair stuck up in practically every direction, and I probably looked like a nightmare.

When I opened the door, Molly marched in and sat on my bed.

I shut the door. "So?"

"Gen, look. Mum's only mad 'cause you're her daughter. She loves you. You should've seen how scared she was when you didn't show up. Her face turned whiter than that coconut pudding she makes every Sunday."

"Pudding? Really?" I asked dryly.

Molly rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. The thing is, we were all really scared. What if you had gotten hurt, Gen? You may have not gotten injured this time, but what about next time? Mum just wants to make sure you're okay. And you didn't show up for a full hour."

Guilt hit me like a giant wrecking ball. That was right—I still had a family. A family that loved me, that cared about me. In all my excitement, I'd forgotten about that.

"I'm sorry." I muttered, scuffling the floor with my toe and averting my gaze downwards.

"Don't tell that to me, tell that to mum." Molly smiled quietly and took my hand. "Now let's go get dinner."

"Okay." I followed her like an obedient puppy, and she tugged me down the stairs tenderly.

Mum's back was facing us and she was mixing some juice in the kitchen.

I hesitated, shame washing over me.

"Go on." Murmured Molly, shoving me forward.

I stumbled a bit and awkwardly approached mum.

"Mum?" I started nervously, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize all the trouble I caused, and how worried you were. But I get it now. I'm sorry."

Mum slowly turned around. Her eyes were rimmed with red and she didn't look too great herself either.

"It's alright, Gen. I'm just glad you're okay." She opened her arms and I tackled her with a hug.

"You're still grounded though." She sniffed into my messy hair.

"Mum." I half groaned, half chuckled.

Later that night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I really was sorry for what I'd done, but at the same time, I couldn't stop what I had started.

The whole adventure had been indescribably exhilarating.

And I wanted more—even if I would get hurt.

It was what I wanted to do, and I would do it. I wouldn't let anything or anyone stop me—I'd just hide it better from my family.

A pang of guilt stabbed me; I didn't want to lie to the people I cared about. But it was worth it.

The things I'd do, the things I'd see, the people I'd meet—it was all in my future, and I wasn't going to let it go.

A/N: There's always some drug culture wherever you go, and organizations like the mafia or gangs or yakuza are pretty prevalent. So I thought the wizarding world should have a black market/crime syndicate type thing. I'm going to try to make the illegal dealings/crime syndicate as realistic as possible (though I'm not great with economics and illegal dealings and the like) but this is also a crack fic, so there's going to be not as much focus on the darker aspects of these kind of dealings (though it will be touched on). Generally, a lot of weird shit will happen.

I'd like to emphasize, once again, that Genevieve is not a good person. So don't expect any more consideration for her family any time soon. And she's not going to be a good student either—she's too busy doing whatever she wants whenever she wants.

One of the characters in this chapter is part of the Black family. The reasons for him being there will be explained in later chapters (I guess there's going to be more politics and power-struggles in this than I originally anticipated) and even though he seems out of place, it'll hopefully make sense in later chapters. His character isn't really developed in the books and I've always found him interesting, so I looked up his estimated birth and death years (he died suspiciously early) and decided that it made sense with my plans for him.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed! I really appreciate it. And thank you to xenocanaan, DarkDust27, Goldspark1, Winterlover6, JBebe, ellietischler, Mari Wollsch, and Regin for reviewing! Please let me know if you have any issues or concerns that you want to point out, and thanks for reading. (And sorry for the long A/N.)