You Only Live Once

CHAPTER 2

Mira had liked the story very much. Silia had picked a good one—a story about the Marauders, full of friendship and lighthearted trouble. Eventually, the weight of the day and the soft glow of her bedside lamp caught up to her, and she fell asleep with the book still splayed open across her chest.

When she woke up, the sun was hitting her face with a harsh, direct heat. Her first thought was that she must have forgotten to close the curtains. Then, a sharp, cold breeze bit at her skin. Did I leave the window open, too? she wondered groggily. She tried to shift, to pull the duvet higher, but her bed felt wrong. It wasn't soft or bouncy. It was lumpy, moist, and strangely hard.

And it smelled like grass.

Mira snapped her eyes open. She wasn't in her bedroom. She wasn't under her covers. Instead, she was staring up at a vast, bright blue sky.

She scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was standing on the side of a massive, sloping green hill. Below her, a dark, shimmering lake stretched out toward a dense forest. And perched on the cliffside, towering over the water with its familiar stone turrets and glowing windows, was a castle. It was a castle she knew by heart, though she had never seen it in person.

"Good morning, Miss Aisling," a calm, melodic voice said from behind her.

Mira shrieked, spinning around. Standing a few feet away was an old man. He was tall and thin, with silver hair and a beard so long it could be tucked into his belt. He wore deep purple robes and half-moon spectacles that rested on the bridge of a long, crooked nose.

"It is completely normal for you to be confused, Miss Aisling," the man said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Waking up on the side of a hill in the Scottish Highlands must be quite a shock."

Mira stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "Is this a joke?" she gasped. "Did my father hire you? Is this his idea of a 'Sweet Sixteen' surprise?"

"I assure you," the man said, "I am very much real. I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Mira started laughing. It was a loud, manic laugh that echoed off the hills. "Oh, sure. Okay then, 'Professor.' Let's see it. If you're Dumbledore, do some magic."

The man simply shrugged and lifted a hand toward the sky. With a small flick of his fingers, the sun vanished. Dark clouds swirled into existence, casting a gloomy shadow over the hill. Mira stopped laughing. Then, he pointed a wooden wand at her. Before Mira could react, her feet left the grass. She let out a yelp as she floated three feet into the air.

"Put me down!" she screamed. He lowered the wand, and she dropped back onto the grass with a soft thud. "This is a dream. I'm having a very weird dream because of that book Silia gave me."

"It is not a dream," Dumbledore said gently. "Why don't you follow me up to my office?"

Mira followed him toward the ancient castle. As they walked, she saw portraits that actually moved and staircases that seemed to shift. She was still in her red nightdress, her hair a tangled mess, and her bare feet stung against the stone.

"Do you want me to pinch you?" Dumbledore asked suddenly.

"What?" Mira blinked.

"So you can see for yourself that you are not dreaming."

"No, thank you," she said quickly.

They reached a large, stone gargoyle. Dumbledore whispered a password, and a spiral stone staircase carried them up into a circular office filled with strange silver instruments.

"It appears," Dumbledore said, sitting at his desk, "that you have no idea how you ended up here. Tell me, what year do you think it is?"

"2022," Mira said, her voice sounding small.

Dumbledore sighed. "Ah. I must inform you that it is currently June 30th, 1977."

Mira felt the blood drain from her face. 1977? "I must admit, I am impressed," Dumbledore continued. "I cannot fully see inside your mind, which is rare for a Muggle. But we can discuss that later. Since today is the last day of the term, I need to find a place for you to stay. The Potters would be the obvious choice, but they are out of town. However... yes, I think I have another idea."

The heavy door to the office creaked open, and a woman in emerald-green robes stepped inside. She had her dark hair pulled into a tight bun.

"You called for me, Albus?" she asked.

"Ah, yes! Minerva, this is Mira," Dumbledore announced. "She is a Muggle girl who has somehow traveled across time and dimensions to join us this morning."

Professor McGonagall looked just as confused as Mira felt. "I beg your pardon?"

"I shall explain later," Dumbledore said. "For now, could you please accompany Miss Aisling to the Gryffindor common room? She needs something appropriate to wear. And while you are at it, could you bring me Mister Lupin when he wakes up? I believe he might be able to help us."

McGonagall simply nodded and gently took Mira's hand. "Come along, dear. Let's find you some proper clothes."

Mira let herself be led away, her mind spinning. She was in Hogwarts. It was 1977. And she was about to meet the people she had only ever known as stories on a page.