I don't own Harry Potter!

Harry Potter

And

Dumbledor's Secret

Slytherin wasn't her place to be,

Hufflepuff was the same;

Ravenclaw she might have been,

But Gryffindor she became.

********

I woke by falling out of my bed. I must have had a real shindig of a dream. I put on my glasses and got dressed in my jeans and a red sweater. I walked towards the breakfast table and sat… the next thing I knew I was falling from the sky and screaming at the top of my lungs. I kept falling and falling and I finally fell right into someone's arms.

          "I'm… are you alright?" asked boy with glasses and a rather unusual looking scar in the middle of his forehead.

          "I'll… be fine. As soon as I'm on the ground again and never have to fall like that…" I shivered with fright as he placed my feet on the ground.

          "Sorry," the boy replied.

          "I'm never going to look at a chair the same again," I groaned, my face was still very pale.

          "Who are you?" asked a very large, almost gigantic, person.

          "I'm Mary Stareye. I live in America and love to read fiction about magic and sorcery," I told the giant of a man.

          "Did you say Stareye (Star-eye)?" the giant man blinked.

          "Yes, that's my last name. What is this, Cuba, or Russia, or something?" I asked with a 'is he sane' look.

          "It's England; I'm Harry and this is Hagrid," the boy stated.

          "Funny, but I was in North America the last time I checked. How on earth could I be in 'Bloody England'?" I replied with much sarcasm.

          "We'll you are," Hagrid replied.

          "Great, the next thing you'll have me believing that Harry's last name is Potter and his arch rival is Draco Malfroy, and I'm not wearing jeans," I replied quickly.

          "Um, my last name is Potter," the boy replied. I looked down and sure enough I was wearing my jeans.

          "But how…?" I began, "Yeah, but you can't be that Hagrid that I've read about in my books. And you can't be Harry Potter, I mean seriously, who can talk to snakes besides Voldemort?" I asked. Hagrid winced, "Oh, for crying out loud! He's a fictional character, made up by J.K. Rowling!"

          "Who's Voldemort?" Harry asked.

          "HARRY! Please don't say you know whose name!" Hagrid gasped.

          "Why not? I don't know him," Harry asked.

          "Hagrid, not saying his name makes him more powerful. Most guys your size, are into wrestling, not dragons, and other cool animals. If you really are the Hagrid from the book, how did Harry Potter get to his rude, and disgusting, Aunt and Uncle's?" I asked calmly.

          "I flew him there on a friend's borrowed motor bike…" Hagrid began.

          "I believe you," I sighed, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it. I may like magic, but why am I in Diagon Alley?"

          "You're Mary Stareye and I was supposed to find you here. Headmaster said," Hagrid replied.

          "Why? Why me? I miss my dad!" I began and hung my head in sorrow.

          "You have magic, girl. Headmaster arranged yer comin!" Hagrid said proudly, puffing his chest up just a bit.

          "Hagrid! Is that ye?" asked an older woman.

          "Yup, it's ol' Hagrid," he smiled, "Well, you two are on your own to get supplies while I talks with me friend 'kay?" Hagrid asked.

          "Okay Hagrid, but I'm sticking with Harry," I told Hagrid, but it was in vain. He had already started talking to the lady and I grabbed Harry's hand and followed him into a shop.

          "Um, what are we looking for?" I asked my face paled as he showed me the list of books we needed.

          "Hey, it's a pair of first years," a boy smiled, "Hope you get into Slytherin!" the boy stated.

"Be careful with your mouth, Malfroy, because someday it will get you into more trouble than Snape can bail you out of!" I told him icily.

"Who are you? Just a mudblood, huh. Thought so," he replied.

"Die and go trade your soul to the devil! Oops, I forgot, you already did! With you as a tag-along, behind the rest of your pigheaded family," I glared.

"So long, mudblood, first year," replied Draco as he left the building.

"Damn son of a bitch! He'll have a hell of a day when you get into something he doesn't until another year, mark my words Harry, you'll like all the teachers except Snape, and Peeves. Wait till I hear Moaning Myrtle," I groaned, "She was murdered by something in the girls bathroom."

"Oh," Harry replied.

"I wonder what the hat will choose for me," I pondered.