A/N: Hey guys. This is my first multi-chapter fic, along with another one I'm starting simultaneously. This is just the prologue. I'm going to begin updating regularly in June. Hopefully we'll have a few people following this by then. Thank you to everyone at Unspoken! They've all been so very encouraging and helped me test my abilities in all types of writing styles. Can't thank you guys enough, and I hope you like this!

28. 09.13 Update:

What you're going to be reading as the prologue isn't actually what I posted at first. I've written the story till chapter six, 'The Right Choice', by now. The previous version of the prologue was simple, short and intense. This more complicated, longer and makes less of an impact. It does provide more of a background to the story, even though it's quite cryptic.

There are alternating points of view in the prologue. Each line break indicates the shift to another point of view. The following chapters follow through with one point of view for the entirety of a chapter.

I hope you enjoy. :)

"There's a Miss Weasley here to see you, ma'am," my assistant said, popping her head into my office.

I looked up over my reading glasses and raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I don't recall scheduling any appointments for today," I commented, setting down my quill.

"You haven't, ma'am," she said hastily, "But she says it's important."

"Very well, send her in," I instructed, swivelling my chair around and setting the documents on the table behind me.

"Mrs. Travis," the young girl said, stepping into my office after a moment.

"Miss Weasley," I greeted imperiously. "I seem to recall deciding to meet with you on Friday when you came in for your job interview yesterday. You are two days early."

The tips of her ears immediately turned a telling shade of red, and she looked down in embarrassment. "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Travis, but since our last meeting, something came up, and-"

"And you've decided to quit before you've even started," I finished for her. I looked at her in an intimidating manner with an eyebrow raised sarcastically. "Well, Miss Weasley, if that will be all, you may leave."

Having said my final words to the young red-head woman, I turned around in my chair and picked up the documents once again.

"Actually, no," she said, after an awkward pause. Slowly gaining confidence, her voice grew stronger, and she continued, "I wanted to discuss the living arrangements you offered during our last meeting. I would like to take up the offer."

"And what makes you think the offer is still open," I asked, hiding my surprise at her outright disobedience to my clear dismissal.

The last three job applicants had accepted happily after their interview, but had arrived mere days later, providing half-baked excuses as to why they could not take up the job as they had claimed. Parents seemed to be quite wary of having their children - no matter how grown up - working at Azkaban.

"I- I'm not s-sure, of course," she stuttered. "I was only hoping," she trailed off uncomfortably.

"This is all very inconvenient for me," I said strictly, wanting the girl to understand that her demands would not always be met on this job. "You are a great inconvenience. However, I will ask my assistant to look into living arrangements for you, and I will get back to you. Good day, Miss Weasley," I finished firmly, dipping my quill into the ink pot and going to back to my work, to let my words sink in.

"Actually," she said uncomfortably. "I need something now... I left home ...after arguing with my parents about the job," she mumbled.

It was getting increasingly difficult to conceal my surprise at this girl's attitude.

"You left home?" I repeated, carefully keeping my face blank and my emotions out of my voice.

She nodded, a guilty expression covering her face.

"Why, may I ask?"

"They felt I couldn't do this job well - and safely - because I'm a Squib. I happened to disagree with them," she said, pursing her lips defiantly.

For the first time, I smiled at her. Hearing her story, I felt confident in my choice.

Here was a young woman who was steadfast in her decision and was willing to stand up to even her parents. If I had any doubts whether or not she would be able to act firmly with the inmates of Azkaban, I had next to none now.

"Good," I praised. "However, the accommodations I offered to you are no longer available. We have another new employee who will be starting with you. He decided to take us up on our offer."

She fidgeted uncomfortably as I paused and surveyed her.

"Your request seems to be genuine, though. You may stay on the premises - out of everyone's way - until we find accommodations for you. We will hopefully have something available by tonight. Now if there is nothing else, I'd like to get back to work," I finished pointedly.

She shot up from the chair hastily. "No, no, nothing else. Thank you so much, ma'am. I really appreciate it."

Waving a hand in dismissal, I dipped my quill in ink and prepared to begin working again.

What a curious event, I mused silently.

The rain continued pouring down on the windows. There was the occasional flash of lightening, and then wet darkness again.

I sat huddled on the sofa, nursing a cup of tea. I strained my ears, hoping to hear a knock on the door, to hear any sign of the woman who was to meet me here today.

I had almost nodded off to sleep when, suddenly, I heard the long awaited knocking on the door. I brought a hand to my bosom to calm my startled heart.

"Coming," I called in as loud a tone I could manage with my aged feeble voice.

The knocking stopped and I assumed the visitor had heard my reply.

I opened the door and rushed in the dripping wet young woman. Her red hair was sticking to her face and her lips were turning blue. The colours stood out on her face due to her pale complexion.

Her teeth chattered as I led her to the sofa.

"There, there," I said comfortingly, rubbing her shoulders with a towel I had kept in hindsight for this very purpose.

"Take of your clothes, dear, or you'll never dry up. Do you have any spare clothes?" I asked kindly.

She nodded numbly, pointing to the bag she had dropped next to the doorway. It seemed as if it was soaked through, but when I opened it, everything inside was dry - as if by... magic...

I didn't wonder about it much at that point, but I quickly rummaged through for the warmest clothes I could find for the poor girl.

"I'm sorry, I got lost," she said in a raspy voice, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"Hush, dear, it's no problem," I consoled kindly.

After she was changed and sitting beside me in front of the fire, sipping a cup of tea, we began talking business.

Her boss had contacted me earlier today, requesting accommodations that would be available within twelve hours for one of her employees.

I was curious as to what a girl of her age was doing alone in search for a house. She didn't seem to be older than eighteen, and while she was legally an adult, I still wondered at her lack of a companion. Especially on a night like this.

And although I desperately wanted to inquire and satisfy my curiosity, it seemed almost too forward to ask a girl who had nearly caught pneumonia in a relentless storm as to where her family was.

Stepping out of the cold rain and into the warmth of the house was an absolute relief. I let the old woman rub some warmth into my arms.

After we had sorted out the house deal, she left me to sit by the fire and sip my hot beverage. I gazed into the flames trying to put together the pieces which my life had been broken into, not even twenty-four hours ago.

I'm leaving this house.

Leaning back into the sofa, I tried to stop the tears and the memories, but I couldn't and they came. Once the first tear escaped down my cheek, the rest followed soon after, dripping steadily from my eyes.

I pursed my lips tightly, trying not to sob like baby.

I'm a Squib and it's not going to stop me from living life.

It was so ironic that my father always thought he was the black sheep of the Weasley family. That he was the one who was different. The only one who was so uptight and meticulous. The odd one out.

And then I came along - he was suddenly part of the whole cluster of yellow little ducklings. And I was the only ugly little grey one left out.

Hearing the woman's footsteps approaching the room, I quickly wiped away my tears and steeled myself. No doubt she would have questions as to why I had been all alone in the rain.

But one look at me seemed to tell her not to question me, and she remained silent, giving me a small, comforting smile.

I turned my attention back to the flames. My imagination kept pushing an image of green flames to the forefront of my thoughts - a sign that someone was Flooing, that someone had found me.

I braced myself for a confrontation between myself and my parents. One constant mantra kept circling in my thoughts. It gave me strength and confidence in myself.

Because I am Molly Audrey Weasley. I am a Squib.

It's short, but it's only the prologue! :)

Please leave a review. They make me giddy. :P

-Sana