Mikasa opens her eyes with a start. She looks around. She's in a snow covered forest. Her world is white and green. She shivers. It's cold. She looks down and sees that she's wearing nothing more than rags. Where is her survey corps uniform? The last thing she remembers . . . Levi Heicho was fighting the female titan and she got him, surprising him with agility that she hadn't shown before. His legs and arms were torn off and he lay bleeding on the ground. Eren screamed, distracting her and she was a second too late to notice the titan coming up behind her. Her gas was out. She felt her legs snapping in the titan's mouth as everything went black. She numbly heard Eren screaming her name.

Mikasa gasps, startled by the memory. She died, she was eaten by a titan, so why is she still alive? And for that matter, where is she? She looks down at her hands and notices they're abnormally small, the hands lead to a small arm and a small torso. She touches a hand to her face, its chubby with baby fat. Is she . . . a kid?

The cold wind bites into her bare skin. Mikasa prioritizes survival, she'll worry about her body later, right now, she needs to find someplace warm. She stumbles through the forest for what feels like hours until she sees the light of a nearby town. She breathes a sigh of relief, thank god. She wanders past shops, looking for one that's open. As she glances in one of the dark storefront windows, she gasps.

She looks ten years old again. What happened? Mikasa knows she died around age sixteen. Is this an afterlife of some sort where everyone is younger? She sees bright light coming from a pub, she slips in silently, gently closing the door behind her.

A grizzled middle-aged man is behind the bar, wiping down the counter with a wet cloth. Its almost closing time. The circles of drinking men are rowdy but quieting down. Most know they'll have to leave soon.

Mikasa looks at one man's steak hungrily, what she wouldn't give . . . suddenly the steak zips off the man's plate and into her hands. He's too engaged in an argument with his friend to notice.

Mikasa stares in shock at the meat. What had just happened?

The bartender waves her over, "Oy kid," he grumbles, "Ignoring the fact that you shouldn't even be out this late at night, this is a wizard and muggle bar. No using magic in front of the patrons, alright?"

Mikasa looks up at him confused, "That was . . . magic? Magic isn't real."

The man laughs harshly, "Yer a muggle-born then, kid? What are you even doing here at a bar like this anyways? Where're your parents?"

"Dead," Mikasa responds, automatically before covering her mouth. Crap, she isn't home anymore, this is somewhere else. She shouldn't be giving out information freely. There aren't bars like this behind the wall, not anymore. Sure the guards used to drink but now everyone's too busy worrying about the titan's. Or was too busy. Mikasa's not in walled area anymore. She might not even be in the same world. This place has magic, or so the bartender says.

The bartender's eyes widen at her deadpan response, then they narrow. He inspects her. The kid's dressed in rags and has the self-reliant air he's seen from orphans and long-time runaways. She's hungry and doesn't understand magic, and if he lets her go now chances are she'll get killed by a drunk wizard. He makes a snap decision.

"Listen kid, the name's Tom. I've been needing some extra help around here of late, since I can't use magic in front o' the nonmagic folk. You up for the job?" Mikasa nods, she has no where else to stay and this man seems pretty knowledgeable about where she is and what this "magic" is. Tom continues, "Alright, I'll give ya food and a place ta stay if you pull yer weight. Otherwise I'll kick ya out onto tha streets. Got that?"

She nods again.

"What's yer name kid?"

"Mikasa."

"Hmphh, weird name," He mutters, "Is that Japanese or somethin'?"

Mikasa shrugs, mother never told her how she got her name.

Two weeks later the bar is thriving. Tom is shocked at the girl's work ethic. Any other kid would be complaining and whining their eyes out but she stays silently working until he tells her to stop. She washes dishes till they sparkle and clears food and cleans tables just as well. She's practically a full staff packed in to one person.

Tom felt bad not paying her, even providing room and board so he asked her if she wanted anything. The girl, Mikasa, wanted to learn about magic, so he now takes an hour aside every day to tell her about the wizarding world. Every so often he'd quiz her to see if she was paying attention and she feeds his words back verbatim coupled with insightful questions and inferences. She learns at almost an alarmingly fast pace, he muses.

He doesn't regret taking her in though, even the regular patrons love her, they feel she's a novelty of sorts, a little ten year old girl serving drinks and clearing tables like a professional. So far they've been nice, but Tom worries what would happen if someone got to drunk and a fight broke out. No one would notice little Mikasa standing there.

The next day, his worries prove necessary. Two muggles, drunk beyond coherence, get into a fight about the bill and start throwing punches. Tom's about to grab his wand and stop them, he'll obliviate 'em after, Mikasa's right there, he can't let her get hit.

"Please take you fight outside," Mikasa asks them in the voice she used when commanding civilians.

The men leer at her. She looks at them in disgust. If there were titans in this world these men would be dead by now. One of the men raises a hand at her. Tom's eyes widen, and he shouts her name, but she's already moving before he can grab his wand.

Quick as a flash, Mikasa punches the man in the stomach, hard. She tugs the back of his shirt to unbalance him and then kicks him onto the ground. She leans over him with cold eyes, holding the shattered end of his beer bottle right up next to his face. "You need to leave now."

Shocked and frightened, the man and his rowdy friend run out of the bar as all of the other patrons stare in shock. Who is this girl?

Mikasa returns to the back room and starts the dishes, wanting to avoid answering any of the patron's questions. Tom decides not to ask her where she learned to do that and let's her be, but it sure is a weight off his mind that she can take care of herself.

Tom takes her to Diagon Alley a few days later as a special treat. He laughs as she stares in wonder at all the magic in front of her.

"You'll come here to buy yer supplies when you go ta magic school," he tells her, "They've got all the books, wands, pets, and cloaks you'll ever need."

Tom has to pick up a package at Knockturn alley. Slightly worried for her safety he tells her to stick with him and not to get lost. He has to pick up a private package at Borgin & Burkes though, so he tells her to wait just outside the shop and scream if anything happens.

Mikasa watches the dark looking witches and wizards hurrying through the streets. An older man, late thirties to early forties with dark brown hair catches her eye. She sees a witch in the shadows pointing her wand at the man. She knows all about wands and magic now from Tom, and whatever spell that witch is muttering, it probably isn't good, Mikasa wants to scream for the man to look out, but he's too far away. She sees the witch aiming her wand with an uncast spell glowing on the end.

Mikasa runs towards the man to push him out of the way but he's still too far. She runs as fast as she can, shoving through the crowd, but she's not going to reach him in time, she's too far away, he'll be hit. Suddenly Mikasa gasps and feels like her body is being sucked in through a vacuum. She appears a split second later in front of the man, just in time to push him out of the way, though she gets hit by the spell instead.

The man stumbles and turns around, wand out, and looks at her in shock. Mikasa coughs, she feels like her body is being ripped in half, she feels the blood dripping down her torso. It hurts . . she tries to stay conscious but she can't, she's slipping away . . . the last thing Mikasa sees is the brown haired man running forward to catch her.