Somewhere Over The Rainbow



I'm really scared about posting this story, because I'm working REALLY hard on it, and from my last stories I tried to do, I never got ANY feedback, whatsoever. And that's why I stopped it all together. So all I ask if at least ONE PERSON reviews telling me what they think.

Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR, except for the OCs.


CHAPTER ONE.
We're not in Kansas Anymore


Unlike the rest of these nine to thirteen year old kids in this room, I actually grew up reading Harry Potter from when I was old enough to read novels. I'm twenty years old, old enough to realize when the first book was first published in 1998, the people born in that year are now teenagers. Fuck, I'm old. Well, I may be an adult, legally, and physically, but when it comes to fandoms, I don't care how young I may look. When I heard about the Harry Potter Exhibit, I was all up in that. The only catch? Since my mom is a single mother, there was no one home to watch over my siblings. Granted my oldest sister, Iris, is sixteen and is old enough to stay home alone, she isn't exactly reliable or responsible for anything. So, if I wanted to go to this exhibit I'd have to take all three of my younger siblings.

Iris, like I said, is the second oldest at sixteen years old. And she's at that obnoxious stage where she thinks she owns the world and her shit doesn't stink. And she likes Twilight, so you can imagine my hatred towards her. Add to her list of shitty personality traits, Iris is a total rude bitch; the bully in her high school. For example, we were nearly late getting tickets because she was too busy trying to curl her hair with the curling iron. Who the hell does she have to impress, honestly? Most of the kids here were half her age. Iris reminded me a lot of a Malfoy if Draco had a sister or a paternal aunt. She had long white-blond hair that she often curled into ringlets or straightened; she used to have coon-tails dyed in, but my mother had told her to dye it back because she looked like a ten dollar hooker. God bless my mom. Iris also has that gray-blue eyes that I'm rather jealous of - rumour has it she got that from our grandmother who was known for having crystal blue eyes that had got our grandfather to fall in love with her.

Then there was the third youngest, Hector, who was fourteen years old. This kid was the kid we all had high hopes for. Top of his class, and the only one in our family to be in a private all-boys school for AP students only. He plans on being an astrophysicist, and then write a best selling book when he retires. Hector really shoots for the stars, and that's why I love him, because he doesn't let anything disappoint his dreams. When our father was with us, he often put down Hector for having such high-hoped dreams, and the teen took that negativity to make him drive faster into achieving his goals. However, he can be very obnoxious sometimes, always being the know-it-all and correcting every single mistake you could possibly make. He's also a grade pusher, if he doesn't get the grade he wants (even by a fraction) he will annoy his teacher until he gets what he wants. Or a demerit, depending on who the teacher is. He, like my sister, has white-blond hair, but inherited my mom's emerald green eyes, another set of eyes I am jealous of.

And of course, there's my lil Basil. He's the sweetie pie in the family that I'm constantly with. He's funny in an innocent manner that makes you want to suffocate him in a hug. Basil is creative, always drawing, and at twelve he's pretty damn good. I envy his talent a lot of the time, since I could only draw stick figures and what I call "abstract art". However, Basil is incredibly sensitive and is easy to upset, which is why I'm often around him to protect him from bullies and... Hector's sharp tongue, and Iris' uncalled for insults. Because to be perfectly honest, Basil is a little on the pudgy side, but like me, he is reacting to puberty differently. Actually me and my baby brother have a lot in common, including hair and eyes. His hair is a mess of curls cutely cropped on top of his head with a pair of olive-hazel eyes.

"Evangeline!" Speak of the devil. I look over at the small boy and came up behind him, "What's up?"

"Look! It's Cedric Diggory's robes!" Basil was pointing excitedly a the mannequin that held the robes in the movie. I swear, for what ever reason, Basil adores Cedric and was so devastated that he died so soon. "Awesome," I smiled while admiring the robes. I heard a snort behind me, "Who cares about Cedric Diggory?" Iris sneered, rolling her eyes, looking back at a Sirius Black wanted poster. Basil pouted and looked up at me with his large eyes, sighing, I gave a pointed glare at my sister. "Cedric was played by Robert Pattinson in the movies...Remember?" I watched in mild amusement as Iris' eyes widened and before I knew it she was shoving me and Basil aside with her large behind, telling us to shove it. She swooned over the fabric, nearly falling to her knees in a religiously submissive fashion. Her hand outstretched, she was about to touch it until one of the many employees dressed in wizards robes told her not to touch the display or she would be kicked out. With a scowl, Iris crossed her arms over her chest.

I rolled my eyes, and began to push her further along towards where Hector was waiting with Basil. "C'mon, princess. More to see..." I pushed her into a small room that was supposed to be the exact replica of Albus Dumbledore's office. It was smaller than the movie, obviously, but it had everything. Dumbledore's desk, Fawkes sitting on his perch, Godric Gryffindor's sword placed on a stand on top of his desk, and many portraits, some "moving" and others plain. There was a fake book shelf with books, and of course, the sorting hat sitting on a stool for everyone to look at. While looking at the sword, I over heard Iris muttering something about the employee yelling at her, then "If I want to touch the bloody exhibit, I'll do it!" I saw her in the corner of my eye, eyeing the sorting hat and I already knew what she was thinking.

"Iris..." I threatened under my breath, only to receive rolling eyes. This caught the attention of Hector as he asked what was she doing. I saw her hand reach over the velvet rope, fingers just hovering over the hat. "Iris, stop," I told her again, reaching over to her. "What part of don't touch anything don't you understand?"

"The 'don't' part," she said smartly and with flick of her wrist, she snatched the dirty old hat, which naturally flared my anger. I stomped over to her and grabbed the end of the hat, intending to wretch it out of her grip. "You're really trying my patience, Iris. Why don't you ever do what you're told?"

"Why do I have to?" She challenged. Just then, Hector came and tried to be peaceful by taking Iris' wrist and telling her to calm down. Naturally, she refused, grip tightened. All this drama attracted the twelve year old, as he looked bug-eyed at the sorting had. "Oh, cool! I wanna see!" He shouted, coming to us and tried to pull the hat out of our grip as well. My attentions was shifted to Basil, telling him to stop pulling because he was going to rip it, but like his other sister, he didn't listen. We bickered and fought; Iris was arguing about how she was never allowed to do anything, and I argued back that she was too immature and impulsive to think of anyone else but herself. Hector tried to calm us down, and Basil was still begging for the hat. In all the chaos I barely noticed that the hand to my watch reached exactly 5 O'clock, and suddenly I felt something tugging at my belly button. In a sudden jerk, we were pulled into a vortex that seemed endless. I watched my body stretch to new lengths, but felt no pain. Before I knew it, we landed in a pile on stone floor.

We groaned in a pile of pain. "Christ, Basil, could you get your arse out of my face?" I heard Iris say, "I would if Hector got his legs off my stomach!" Hector then scoffed, "Evan is on my back! Get off!" With a struggle, I pulled arms from under Iris' legs and maneuvered myself off of my younger siblings. It was difficult because my head was spinning and I was so confused as what to happen, that it was hard to decipher which was floor and which one was a stray limb. I managed to crash onto the floor next to them, and they began to untangle themselves. In the entire mess of things, I didn't catch the sound of chair legs screeching across the stone. Actually, we were barely aware of a fifth presence in the room at all. Aw, fuck, it was probably that employee again. We ripped the hat, didn't we? Shit, I'm going to have to pay for it... That hat probably costs 20,000 pounds! I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop my head from spinning, shutting my eyes so tightly I barely noticed the sudden silence of the groans.

"Uh...Evangeline?"

"Whhhatt?" I was met with silence, which breached my curiosity as I opened my eyes to be facing a paisley purple curtain... That had feet underneath. My eyes traveled up until I was met with the bluest eyes since I saw my sister for the first time in my life. He had a beard, not incredibly long, just hanging of his chin, and it was a dark ginger colour with white hairs accenting it. The man squinted his aging eyes down at me before he actually said anything. For a moment, I thought maybe he was the boss that took Harry Potter seriously, because he looked just like Dumbledore, if there wasn't a movie. Well, at least a young Dumbledore.

His eyes soften slightly when he noticed the nervous and frightened look Basil had. "May I inquire who the four of you are? And how you were able to schedule a Port Key to come right in my office?"

"Port Key?" All four of us said in unison. My mouth hung open, but it seemed like Hector had everything under control. He pulled himself up from the stone floor and looked at the older man through his horn-rimmed glasses. "Excuse us sir, but Port Key? I realize this exhibition is supposed to be a somewhat realistic experience - as far as exhibits go - but..."

Hector trailed off when he saw that the man's hand raised up to stop him, his furry brow knitting together in confusion. "Exhibition? My boy, I believe you are heavily mistaken."

"Pardon?"

"My office is not for entertainment purposes, nor do I have a group of people touring around it on a daily basis," his response confused us. We all looked at each other, except for Basil who had his large eyes fixed on something behind me. "LOOK!" He pointed, "It's moving!" Before I could spin my head around to see what he was talking about, I heard a small squawk. I turned around and my eyes turned into dinner plates. The once statute of a phoenix was now moving his large wings, and turning his head around to peer at us curiously. "Holy shit, it's moving!" I scampered across the floor, away from the once fake mythological bird.

The old man turned around nonchalantly, looked at the bird with mild curiosity before returning his gaze back to us. "Have you never seen a Phoenix before?" He seemed surprised at this, and we were even more surprised that he found this surprising. "No!" We all shouted as if the answer should have been obvious and sane. At this, the old man started to think and then helped himself to a seat in a chair that wasn't there before. I took this moment to look around, the entrance in which we entered was no longer there. In fact, this room was much bigger, much more detailed, and there were no velvet ropes. All portraits were moving...actually moving around, some even showing interest in the drama that unfolded on the floor of the office. A very ridiculous conclusion sprang into my mind, but it was something I refuse to believe. Rational thought told my logic that this could not be logical, that there had to be some other explanation. But at the moment, my logic was siding with my imagination, which was a dangerous duo.

"Sir?" I caught his attention. I tried to rethink my question, since I didn't want to outright ask if we were in the wizarding world. Because if my hunch was wrong, I'd look like a lunatic. "Where exactly are we? Specifically building...and country. And time."

He looked at me in the eye, with that same curious look he had since we fell on his floor. "Hogwarts, stationed in northern Scotland, and the year is 1943."

"HOGWARTS?"

"SCOTLAND?"

"NINETEEN-FOURTY-THREE?"

It seemed like everyone was surprised by this news, even me, since I just confirmed my thoughts. For the briefest moment, I thought I was being punked. But let's just face it, who would go through this much work to prank a bunch of kids?

At our outburst, or rather my brothers and sister's, it seemed a conclusion was drawing in the man's mind - I now figured that he indeed was Albus Dumbledore - and wondered if he had a hunch at what was going. Instead of voicing his thoughts he leaned foreword in his chair, "What are your names?"

The three others were still freaking out too much to answer. I could already hear Hector's gears in his mind trying to figure all this out. Iris was probably on the fence of being excited, and worried at the lack of Apple products in this time. And I couldn't tell if Basil was scared shitless, or overwhelmed with excitement. And as for me? Well, all I could think of was how badly mom is going to hex my arse. Pun intended.

Being the oldest, I took it to myself to answer Albus. "My name is Evangaline Bennett. These are my brothers Basil and Hector, and my sister Iris. And I'm sure you gathered that we are not from here."

"Yes," he offered a smile, "After your strange reaction to my humble office, I deduced that you four were from no where near here. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Professor of Transfiguration here at Hogwarts. If you don't mind me asking, what time period are you from?" The question seemed odd even to us, but he said it so casually it was if he asked this on a daily basis. My guess was that he knew that were weren't from the 40s, I mean obviously, look at our clothes.

"2010," I answered, watching his reaction. His eyes widened, and a hand stroke his beard as he gave this some thought. "Well that is curious. How were you ever able to get your hands on a Port Key to teleport you nearly seventy years into the past? Has wizardry really have advanced that much over the decades?"

"Err," I shared a look with Hector, who now seemed to be level-minded after calming down. "Sir," he spoke up for me this time. "I regret to inform you that where we are from... There are no wizards, no real ones that is. And we aren't wizards either."

"Well I very well doubt that," Dumbledore sat back in his chair.

We cocked our heads to the sides in confusion, "Sir?"

"If you lot weren't wizards, you wouldn't even be here," it was a simple answer, but logical. Muggles couldn't see Hogwarts, let alone use a Port Key. Could they? Regardless, if we were wizards, we would have known by now...right? The four of us shared strange stares, all mix with a tornado of emotion. Primarily confusion. "But how?" I voiced my thoughts, "We never experienced anything magic-like in our...world."

"Perhaps," he began, still stroking his beard, "That in your world, as you say, magic does not exist. However, in this one it does... and perhaps the four of you in this world have acquired magic here. The real question is how did a magical item ended up in your world, to port back to this specific time and place." He seemed to be thinking out loud, and all this talk about two worlds made my head hurt. It seemed that Hector was the only one that truly understood what the old goat was getting at.

"I'm sorry to burden you with us being here, Professor," Hector began, momentarily cut off by Dumbledore insisting it they were no burden. "But what do you suppose we do now? We have no idea how to get back, and we don't have any ideas where to go. Our parents won't be born for another 20 years or so."

"I was thinking that very thing, Hector. The school year will not begin for another month. I believe it is wise for the four of you to stay here, and practice magic so you could attend the school. And for the duration of the school year, we will work on how to get you back to your time and world."

"Really?" Came a softer voice of Basil who had been quiet up until this time. With a nod and a small smile from the professor, the twelve year old leapt for joy. Iris was also excited as well, happy to get out of reality like most teenagers do. I saw the interest in Hector, being able to study knew things. Though one thing troubled me.

"Sir," I stood up from my spot and approached him. "My brothers and sister would be able to be at Hogwarts...They're the right age. But I'm twenty. I'm too old to be here."

He raised his hand to dismiss my worry, "Age should not be a barrier. I hope you don't mind being confused as a seventeen year old for a year, my dear. Since you are in your last year, I recommend extra lessons on your part, so you could be caught up with your classmates."

I wanted to groan. I hated teenagers with a burning passion. Couldn't he just make me a janitor or something? I turned back to my celebrating siblings, and joined their excitement. Though mine was a little more modest then theirs. Dumbledore raised from his seat, "Now, I believe we have shopping to do. I do doubt that you brought anything with you."

The rest of the first day was spent touring the castle. None of us barely remembered our way back to Dumbledore's office from down the hall let alone how to get down to the Great Hall. Though I supposed that we had a month to get aquatinted with the grounds. Being the Head of Gryffindor Dumbledore let us bunk in the Gryffindor Tower, that was where we had spent our evenings and slumbers. The very next day we went to Diagon Alley all the way in London. I felt a little bit at home when we arrived there, since we were from London. However, Dumbledore didn't take us to the actual streets of London and kept to the Wizarding World. We were confused at first, but of course Hector had explained to us about the London Blitz that happened in the 40s, and more than likely the city would be a complete mess.

We had borrowed hand-me-down robes from the school with blank crests. At least we didn't stand out with our twenty-first century muggle clothing. Though Iris wasn't particularly impressed with wearing hand-me-downs. I wanted to hit her, and tell her to be more thankful at Dumbledore's generosity. After stating that he will be needing to make a stop at Gringotts, we all went to a safe place in the Ice Cream Parlour, despite only Basil being the one that ordered ice cream. It took longer than what was promised for Dumbledore to return, but when he did he already had a bag of what looked like more robes.

He pulled me aside when we left the parlour and gave me a small purse that was heavier than a normal sized woman's purse. "This should be able to cover the supplies you will need. I gave your brother the list you will be needing for the school year. Once you are finished, I will meet you back in the Leaky Cauldron. I trust you know your way back?"

I nodded, "I really appreciate this, Professor."

He replied with a gentle smile and a farewell, and the four of us were left on the busy place of Diagon Alley. I walked up to Hector and asked him where the first place we needed to go, and the the first thing he said was "Ollivander's"

It was rather difficult finding it considering the place was crowded to the brim with people both rushing about and loitering. But eventually we found the corner store and filed in. The interior was as described in the book, stacked to the ceilings with small boxes that were filed into the wall; the bell chimed above us and soon after a pair of feet were heard as they made their way to the front. When I saw Ollivander, I was slightly shocked at how young he looked, though I had to remind myself that this was the forties and was likely a younger man now.

"What could I do for you lot?"

"We'd like to purchase four wands, please," Hector told him, taking lead.

He peered at us curiously, "Aren't you far too old to have your first wands?"

"Uhh," for once in my life, I heard Hector stumble on his words, trying to figure out how to explain this. So as a good sister, I saved us. "All our wands were lost during a crash course in flying over the English Channel."

The old man sighed in frustration, muttering about how children are so careless these days. He motioned us to come closer, and started with Basil. That took forever, since any wand that he touched ended up exploding something in the room. After what seemed like forever, they had ended up with a swishy 8 inch wand with a Unicorn hair core made with Apple wood. It was a cute and simple wand; rich brown in colour with a handle that had little leaves engraved. Next was Hector's, which was easier and he did less damage to the shop. His was slightly bigger at 10 inches, with Boomslang Venom as the core, and made out of cedar and was said to be flexible; the design on this one was plain, the handle only being remotely interesting with odd celtic engravings. Then, it was Iris', which took another decent amount of time considering she was picky as hell. Before my patience could ware thin, they settled on one finally. Another 10 inch wand, springy, with Dragon Heartstring core, made out of ash. It was a light brown colour with no handle but a grip for your hand, and a small lavender quartz crystal at the bottom of the handle. And lastly, mine.

For what ever reason, Ollivander eyed me a moment longer had he done with the rest. "I believe I have just the wand for you," he left back into the aisle, a little further than before, and came back moments later with a black box. "13 inch, Alder, Phoenix Feather. It's a rigid wand, though, you will need to have a hefty amount patience to break it in," he opened the box and I was met with one of the most prettiest sticks I've seen in my life time. And I've seen some pretty sticks. It was a thick wand, the tip a natural off white wood colour, though due to the wood, it faded into a dark purpleish red, as was its reputation to "bleed" from white to red. From the hilt it had thick vain type carvings that laced it self around the wand until it shrunk back to the tip. I reached out and pulled the wand out of its case, and once my palm hit the handle I felt a wave of power wash over my being, similar to that my siblings experienced when they found the one fit for them. At that moment, I wanted to start doing spells.

The rest of the shopping trip was mostly trying to drag Iris and Basil away from places we didn't need to go into. We bought our books, our cauldrons, quill and a lot of ink, parchment, and we even had time to buy some muggle clothing. I had a good laugh at the reaction on Iris' face when she remembered that the forties didn't exactly have a very nice wardrobe in her standards. Being a tom boy myself, most of the clothes I purchased were from the boy's section. And despite my distaste for my sister, I was grateful that she volunteered to tailor my clothes to much more tasteful dressings. That was the only thing I really admired about Iris, her love for fashion and make up. She would be a talented actress or model, or even fashion designer.

We got back to the Leaky Cauldron a little late, because Basil wanted to look at brooms. When we did, Dumbledore was already sitting patiently in a corner table, and so we joined him. That evening when relatively boring. We had a questionable dinner, and discussed our back story. Since it was impossible for us to pretend we were Americans, Dumbledore suggested that we were home schooled until our mother passed away after having a run in with a colony of giants when she went exploring in the mountains. We decided our blood line to be half blood, it would draw lesson suspicion to others. If we said we were muggle born, then being home schooled wouldn't make much sense. And pureblood names were far too known in the wizarding world.

Me and my siblings though, had an agreement not to mention the books from our time, even to Dumbledore. And as much as I wanted to save people's lives doing something that should have done...like kill Tom Riddle, I couldn't. Hector made me swore not to interfere with his plans. The idea was overwhelmingly tempting, however.


This story is MUCH longer than the others I've done. It took me forever to do chapter 2. So you wont be seeing it until maybe in a week. I like to be 2 or so chapters a head of the chapter I just posted. It makes me feel less rushed. Speaking of rushed, this chapter may seem rushed, but that's because I want to get all that out of the way. HOPE IT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR FEEDBACK!

- queen t. jack.