"Professor McGonagall"

By the time the damp air before dawn had filled the entire confinement room and the faint morning light came through the little glassless window, Rose realized she had fallen asleep without noticing, and that it was already the next morning.

Her stomach burned with hunger, but when she tried to move and sit upright, the feeling seemed insignificant compared with the ache throughout her body and the needle-sharp pain in her head.

Rose dug her nails into her palm, took a deep breath, and pushed herself upright, leaning against the hard wall.

She only had to get through tonight, and then she could leave. Once she was out, she would ask Marge how to become a maid in a wealthy household. Perhaps the family didn't have to be very wealthy, as long as they could pay her a modest wage and let her save enough money to leave this place.

Perhaps, after saving a little money, she could attend a school for the poor or a charity school. Once she came of age and had more job opportunities, she could save enough to support herself through university. But she had neither a good résumé nor anyone to give her a reference, which might keep her from getting into a well-known school.

But that was all right, Rose thought. She came from the twenty-first century.

The knowledge and ideas stored in her head were nearly sixty years ahead of the present. Perhaps she could try her luck at a computer company when the time came.

Just as she was trying to distract herself from her physical discomfort with these wandering thoughts, the hurried tap of high heels approached, followed by the sound of the door being unlocked with a jangling set of keys.

Glaring sunlight poured through the doorway, illuminating the dim confinement room. Elena's tall, slender figure appeared in the entrance.

"A lady wants to see you," she said in a calm voice. "She says she's a professor at a school."

With that, Elena studied her searchingly in the faint light. The freezing confinement room had made Rose's face look even paler, and her messy brown hair hung in strands beside her cheeks.

"You'd better go and tidy yourself up first."

Rose pretended not to see the disgust in Elena's eyes and reached up to sweep her hair behind her ears.

"Come on. Don't keep the professor waiting," she urged.

A professor? She didn't know any professors.

Could Mr. Johnson be planning to send her to a church school?

It wasn't impossible.

"I think I'd better go and tidy myself up," Rose said, stopping and turning to Elena. "I should make a good impression on the professor."

First, she would stall for time, then think of a solution.

"I've changed my mind-" Miss Elena narrowed her eyes and looked down at her. "Let her see you as you are. Perhaps that school will change its mind and decide it doesn't want you."

Hearing Elena's mockery, Rose felt more at ease instead.

If it really were a church school, Elena would only be gloating.

Perhaps her family or someone like that really had enrolled her in a public school, she thought excitedly.

Rose forced herself to push the hope out of her head, but once the thought had appeared, it seemed beyond her control.

Think of the worst, Rose. Maybe someone from a government agency is just here to investigate. Elena must have only half listened, so she thinks the woman came specifically to see me—but there are so many children who haven't been put in confinement. They could have pretended I didn't exist.

A hazy fog hung over London in the early morning, and the chilly air made Rose shiver in her short sleeves.

She followed close behind Miss Elena across the empty courtyard. The children must be eating in the dining hall at this hour, Rose thought enviously. Perhaps that old bastard Johnson had already forgiven him, and she might be allowed to have some breakfast in the dining hall after meeting the professor.

As she followed Elena up to the third floor, the worst possibility came to mind: Johnson planned to secretly do away with her, simply because she hadn't given in to his disgusting intentions.

When they stopped outside the director's office on the third floor, Elena watched Rose stare warily at the large black door and pressed her lips together expressionlessly.

"Act natural. You know what you should and shouldn't say."

Rose breathed a sudden sigh of relief at that. At least they were willing to pretend to be respectable in front of the professor inside.

In the director's office, Johnson sat behind his desk, his face ashen, propping up his chin with his unbandaged arm as he tried to make himself look more intimidating.

But he had plainly failed. A tall, black-haired woman in emerald-green robes stood slightly in front of him and to one side, a stern expression on her face. Anyone who entered would notice the professor first, not Johnson.

"As you can see, this is Rose Claude," Johnson said. "Hell, before this, we didn't even know what her last name was-much less that she could afford to go to some school!"

"Hogwarts has a special fund for those who require financial assistance," the professor said politely, frowning.

"Right, right." Johnson nodded. "You people always like to use things like funds as a cover. Go on, what kind of school is it?"

"We offer places to children with certain special qualities-" Rose saw her hand Johnson a piece of paper and wave the little wooden stick in her hand. Johnson's gaze wandered for a moment, and then he began to read the blank paper attentively.

"Yes, everything is in order." Johnson nodded importantly and muttered unhappily under his breath, "How lucky..."

"Then, please allow me to speak with Miss Claude alone." The professor—or rather, the person who had been lingering in Rose's mind-nodded to Rose and led the way out of the office.

Almost completely stunned, Rose followed her out like a ghost.

"Hello, Rose." The woman, whose expression had been stern before, smiled gently at Rose and winked. "A Confundus Charm. Someone told me I could use one on the Muggle director if necessary."

Dumbledore.

The familiar name sprang from the muddle of Rose's brain—it was the little trick he had used when he went to the orphanage to fetch Tom Riddle.

Rose's thoughts wandered.

Then the witch before her, wearing square glasses and with her curly hair pulled into a high bun, was-

"I'm Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. You may call me Professor McGonagall," she said cheerfully. "As for Hogwarts, it's the best school of magic in all of Britain!"

"Then, then-" Rose said carefully, "I'm a-"

"A witch, dear," Professor McGonagall said affectionately. "You're a witch."

Rose nodded. Now it all made sense: why Alice and the others called her a "freak," why the glass in Johnson's cabinet had exploded that day. It was all because she had transmigrated into the world of "Harry Potter," and she happened to be a witch!

Enormous joy swelled in Rose's heart like a balloon. She felt all the aches in her body vanish at that moment, and her whole body began to feel light.

"This is your acceptance letter. Young witches and wizards go to Hogwarts to learn to control their magic when they turn eleven," Professor McGonagall said patiently. She waved her wand, and Rose felt less cold.

"This is your shopping list. The school fund will let you buy some secondhand textbooks. Oh-" Professor McGonagall added, "You can buy these things in Diagon Alley. Come along, it's still early. We can get everything on the list today."

She waved her wand toward the office again, then held out her arm to Rose. "I'm afraid Mr. Johnson will be busy in his office all day. By the time he remembers you, you'll be sitting on your bed with your new purchases."

All day long, Rose was first too shocked by the fact that she was a witch to speak. Then, before she had time to feel the pressure of Apparition, she was captivated by the magical sights of Diagon Alley. She wished she had eight eyes.

By the time she sat down on her little bed with her wand, new robes, secondhand textbooks, and a packed dinner that Professor McGonagall had cast a Warming Charm on, it was nearly eight in the evening.

Even though her body was so exhausted she couldn't lift a finger, Rose's heart was full.

This is a brand-new beginning, Rose thought sweetly, closing her eyes just before she drifted completely off to sleep. Have a good sleep, little witch.