Author's Note: Hey Guys! So, here's a story. Read it. Review. I'll do the talky stuff at the end.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

Important Note: This chapter had been edited as of 7-21-12

A witch stared up at the castle before her, the sun glinting off her reddish brown hair. She stared around in awe, taking in the sights of its towers and its simplistic, elegant beauty. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes in pleasure as she breathed in the fresh air from the lake, and she smiled brightly to herself. It was like something out of a dream or a story book. It didn't seem real. Heck, it didn't seem possible at first, but it really was here. It really existed and not simply as part of some vertically challenged wizard's mind. Grasping the strap of her bag firmly in her hand, Amy Wyman reached down to pick up her luggage and sweater, pulling it along beside her as she approached Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Though it hadn't been long since she had step foot on the grounds of a magical school, she had never seen one as magnificent and awe-inspiring as this. She herself has attended the Salem Witch Academy in Danvers, Massachusetts. Though it was the home of the gruesome Salem witch trials that had blackened America's history, the school itself was a warm red brick building, which had housed close to two hundred witches. After spending seven years of her life in a school designed to teach young witches how to use their full potential of magic, Amy had decided to live her life teaching others what she had been taught. It didn't hurt that she got along with teenagers either.

This, of course, is what led Amy to where she was today. Upon request of Hogwarts's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the highly-esteemed wizard, Amy had left her old job at Salem as a teacher's assistant to come and teach Charms at Hogwarts. The last teacher, a one Filius Flitwick, had decided that his time at a teacher had come to an end, and he'd rather spend time traveling the world before the students finally drove him to insanity. Or at least, that's what Flitwick had told her during her interview for the job.

Either way, Amy had no qualms on picking up her life and moving to England, for it really only meant getting away from her overbearing parents and annoying siblings who liked to spend their time messing with her life, rather than their own. It had always been her dream to live away from her family, and England certainly was preferable. She had always told her parents during her teen years that if she hadn't turned out to be a witch then she certainly would have gone to a university out of state.

As she approached the entrance to the great school, Amy looked up at the words that adorned the doorway. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon,' Amy translated in her head, smirking a bit at the magical pretenses it help while pondering the slightly humorous motto. As she reached the doorway, Amy raised a hand to knock on the large entrance door, before pausing. 'Is this the time to knock? Or do I just push open the door?' She glanced around to see if there was anyone else around her, someone who could show her exactly where she was going, but alas, there was no one of the green, lush grounds. So without a second thought, she opened her hand, pressing her palm to the door and pushing against it.

The door swung open with no resistance, revealing to Amy a wide hall with tall ceilings and torches notched into the wall. As she stepped into the entrance, her bags dropped to the ground. She stared up at the vastness of the hall, the suits of armor that stood in the walls, and the portraits that talked amongst themselves, all of them jolly and happy in their frames. She laughed to herself a bit, taking in everything around her, and she wondered if everyone who entered this school felt the same way. Hearing noises from nearby, Amy picked up her bags once more, and she walked the hall, turning her head this way and that, as she admired the stone walls that seemed to tell a story. And then suddenly before her, Amy was facing a doorway, but this time the door were open and seem to beckon and call to her, inviting her in. She placed her bags just outside the door, and she slowly stepped through the entrance and into a large, warm hall.

The first thing she saw was the tables, four long tables adjacent to each other with another one at the front of the hall. There were places set, and the benches were neatly tucked in. The second thing she saw was the ceiling. Oh Merlin, the ceiling… all she could see was blue. The blue of the sky that she had left behind after entering the school. The blue of the day that was filled with warmth and happiness. The ceiling, well there was no ceiling, only a blue sky, but in the blue, was grey. The grey of storm clouds that was quickly approaching, grey that showed the coming of darkness. Of cold and despair, and despite the warmth of the September day, she shivered under her cardigan.

"Do you sense it as well, Miss Wyman?" inquired a voice from behind her, breaking through the calm that had settled around her. Amy whipped around, turning quickly to face the voice that had spoken to her, startling her from her thoughts.

Just inside the doorway stood a man, one of great age, with a long white beard, and half-circle glasses. He was clothed in long purple robes, and he held himself with great dignity and he held the air of a man with wisdom that only age could acquire. There seemed to be an air, not only of wisdom and knowledge, but of kindness to him.

"Forgive me, if I startled you. Miss Wyman," he apologized, his voice light and slightly amused yet completely sincere in every aspect. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am headmaster of Hogwarts."

"It's an honor, sir, I assure you of that," Amy replied instantly becoming as polite as she could. This was after all her boss. "I would introduce myself, but it seems that you already know who I am."

"But of course, Miss Wyman," Dumbledore said humorously. "You are Amy Wyman, born in Chicago, Illinois. You are the only witch out of your siblings, and you attended Salem Witch Academy where you were top of your class, prefect and Head Girl."

"It's a shame that I don't know as much about you as you do about me," Amy laughed, shaking her head slightly as the Headmaster spewed out random facts. "But it is a pleasure, nonetheless."

"It is indeed," Dumbledore smiled. "Though perhaps this conversation would be best continued in my office." He turned, gesturing with his aged hands to the hallway behind him. Amy smiled at him again, looking up for just a brief moment at the ceiling-sky again, before walking past the wizard and to the doorway. She stopped to pick up her bags only to be interrupted by Dumbledore. "Ah, do not worry about those." Amy glanced back at him, as he waved a hand towards her luggage. When she turned back, her bags were gone, and she straightened up abruptly.

"Well," Amy started blankly, "I guess we should be on our way."

"Yes," Dumbledore responded. "We should be."

AN: Okay, so I wrote this in about an hour, so it's not amazing. Anyway, we won't start off immediately with the Charlie/Amy romance, but we'll get there. This takes place in Goblet of Fire, so of course they'll meet because of the dragons, but they won't actually get together immediately... Don't worry though. They will. Also this chapter won't go day by day, because I need to keep Charlie in the story, and he's really not in the series at all, so I'll add him in as we go. Yule Ball, the tournaments, etc. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Signing off,