Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or Harry Potter, sadly.

Tifa Lockheart had just closed her bar for the night and was now walking along the deserted streets of Edge. Not looking where she was going, she walked into a narrow alleyway. Tifa's head shaped upwards as she felt someone behind her. 'Damn, I let my guard down.' She spun around on the spot and aimed a punch at the strangers head. Then the unexpected happened; the guy drew out a small dagger and slashed down at Tifa's torso, blood splattered everywhere. The last thing she could remember was a foul laugh and then darkness.

-x-

Tifa could hear two people whispering urgently somewhere to the side of her. 'Ugh...What the hell happened?' She cracked one eye open and saw an elderly man dressed in some sort of robe talk to a middle age woman who looked worse for wear. Then she remembered the event previously. Tifa bolted upright into a sitting position (the woman let out a little yelp of surprise) and immediately clutched her head in pain.

"Wh-what happened?" Tifa managed to choke out.

"Miss, we found you late last night unconscious and bleeding badly on the doorsteps to this school." The man said kindly.

Tifa did a double take. "What?"

"It is quite true but first, introductions. I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school: Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry and this is Professor McGonagall." He motioned to the woman at his side. "Now, can you remember your name?"

Tifa nodded. "I'm Tifa Lockheart, sir."

"Nice to meet you Miss Lockheart, can you remember anything?"

"I had just finished locking up my bar and I was walking home, I was stupid and let my guard down and I got attacked. The guy stabbed me and then I passed out, that's all I remember, I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright, how is your wound feeling? We've numbed it so that you won't feel any major pain"

Tifa only then realised that there was only a dull throbbing along her wound. "Thank you."

"There one thing that concerns me, your wound it is healing at an alarmingly slow rate. Our healing magic seems to do little, if any good to your wound."

"Oh, that's okay. I can heal myself anyway." She dug around in the pockets of her black trousers (She's wearing her Advent Children attire) and pulled out a small glowing vile.

"What is that my dear?" McGonagall asked.

"It's called a Phoenix Down, it will heal my wounds." Tifa swiftly drank its contents and the older woman's jaw hit the floor when Tifa showed that he wound had completely healed.
"Where is this Hu..hog...um school?" Tifa asked, slightly embarrassed about her slip up with the name.

"Hogwarts, this school is neither here nor there. It can only be found by a person with magical qualities. However, I do believe that you are not around here my dear." The older man chuckled with a twinkle in his eye.

"Your right, I'm not." Tifa confirmed.

"Perhaps, if we examined her wand then we would know where she is from Headmaster?" McGonagall suggested.

"Ah, that is an excellent idea Professor! May I see your wand?" Dumbledore asked, holding his ageing hand out towards Tifa.

"Wand? Like what magicians use at the circus?" She asked confused looking at the two professors strangely.

"You do use magic...right?" McGonagall inquired with her brow creased slightly.

"Of course I do, but I don't use wands. I don't think I have ever seen anyone use real magic with a wand before. "Tifa shot back at the woman, she was tired and she wanted sleep. Why couldn't the people stop talking and offer her a bed already?

"Then how do you go about using magic then?" McGonagall challenged back.

"Well I use materia and summons obviously." Tifa stated flatly.

"Summons...mater-what?" Now it was McGonagall's turn to look confused.

"Ah! I do believe the answer we are looking for is quite simple." Dumbledore exclaimed, effectively breaking the heated glare that had started to form between the two women. When no one spoke, the Headmaster explained.

"Well Tifa is not from our world of course! I don't know how, but I believe that when you were struck down you somehow hoped from your world to ours. Thus passing out in that alley, and waking up on our doorstep." His eyes twinkled with his new founded idea, obviously happy with himself.

"That...could be it, I suppose." Tifa agreed, however mentally confirming: 'This guy's crazy.'

"Anyway, it's late and we are all tired. I'm guessing you don't have a place to stay, Miss Lockheart?"

"I don't, no."

"Well you can stay here for as long as you need my dear, it would be nice to learn from you if you allow and likewise you from us. If you would like to follow Professor McGonagall, she will show you to your room. I will bid you goodnight my friend." With that, the old man turned of his heel and strolled out of the hospital wing, quietly humming to himself.

McGonagall took one look at Tifa through narrowed eyes. "Follow me." She said curtly, and she too walked out the hospital.

'She doesn't trust me,' Tifa observed silently. She didn't blame the woman at all, at the end of the day Tifa was just as wary. None the less she followed the older woman out the room.

Wow, it's been a LONG time since I've written anything for FanFiction. This story actually was started in 2008, but I never got round to finishing the first chapter. Here it is though, two years later, the first chapter! Please review and tell me what you think!