I’m a muggle. At least, that’s what my cousin Fae calls me. I think it means non-magical human. Non-magical human, that’s me. I’m the exact opposite of my weird cousin, who’s a witch.

Up until recently, the only way I had ever heard of Sirius Black (or anything else magical) was through my cousin complaining or dreaming about them. But, now, I see him (them) nearly everyday. Not comprehending? Here, let me explain.

“Come on, Harris, your parents are waiting,” Fae hummed as she tugged me further along the path.

“I’m coming Fae, hold your horses,” I muttered as I tried to dislodge her arm from around mine. Fae was one of those touchy feely people and I feared that one day she would rub off on me.

Fae stopped short and looked at me curiously. “I don’t have any horses, Adriana,” she stated slowly as if I wasn’t capable of understanding her.

I gave Fae a dirty look and then retorted, “It’s a figure of speech, Fae. I’ve been telling you that for 17 years!” I raised my voice and Fae’s brown eyes brightened.

“Oh yeah, I remember now!” She was silent for a few steps before she twittered out, “It couldn’t have been the full 17 years, Adriana since we weren’t even talking for the first few.”

I cracked a smile at that and muttered something about Gryffindor girls and their big mouths. Fae burst into laughter and gave me a light push so my feet stumbled off the dirt path and into the grass. The nighttime dew dampened my sandals and I felt a stray gust of wind blow around us.

Fae pulled her light jacket closer to her as the zephyr left us chilled. The warm late summer night had suddenly become cold and seemed to give us an ominous warning. A pungent odor invaded our senses and my cousin let out a whimper as she grabbed my sweater and pointed the direction of my home. There, hanging above my now burning home was a sickly green skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

“Fae, what is it?” I asked even though I didn’t want to know the answer.

“Adriana… It’s the Dark Mark. You-Know-Who’s sign,” Fae whispered before she whirled us both around and began to sprint back towards her home.

“My parents!” I cried as I looked back at the fire. I struggled out of Fae’s grip and tried to run to my house but I stumbled on a root and fell. The last thought that thundered through my head before my world collapsed was, “Who on Earth is You-Know-who?”

“You-Know-Who or as I know him, Miss Harris, Voldemort, is an evil wizard who is bent on ruling the wizarding world. Well, at least that’s what all the signs point to,” Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry said, with a frown. I wasn’t listening to Dumbledore though; I was staring at what he was wearing through blurry eyes that were red and puffy from crying. Who on Earth would ever wear something as ridiculous as that…oh, yeah, Fae would. Wizards from my point of view are all weird.

Dumbledore was as eccentric as Fae had always colored him. At that moment, he wore a deep purple cloak and in a violet, he had stitched A.D onto the back. “Helps me remember which one’s mine,” he told me as his twinkling eyes caught me eyeing him with wary interest. Speaking of his eyes, they were framed by half-moon glasses that reminded me specifically of my Grandfather’s, but those were buried with him last year. However, it wasn’t his cloak or spectacles that really fascinated me, no, it was what was underneath. Underneath his already abnormal cloak he had on an orange vest coat, with included a black and white striped tie and yellow slacks.

My mouth was hanging open in unconcerned shock and Dumbledore nimbly tapped it closed with one finger. He then proceeded to stare unblinkingly into my eyes and suddenly without him saying anything or doing anything, I knew that behind his brave and indifferent façade, he was afraid.

A laugh bubbled out of Dumbledore’s throat and I was jolted out of my bizarre thoughts.

“Well, Miss. Morgan, it seems that instead of me reading your cousins mind-she read mine. Well, she didn’t technically see my thoughts, rather she knew my emotions. Why, you may ask? It’s simple, Fae Morgan, your cousin is an Empath.” Dumbledore nodded his head as if assuring himself of the fact.

Fae gave her Headmaster a strange look and then voiced her question, “Empath?” I didn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded vigorously to show that I also wanted to have a clue as to what Dumbledore was saying. I rubbed my eyes hard then blinked them shut, willing the tears to stop.

Dumbledore gave us a hollow laugh then proceeded to look at me sadly. “Which is why, I suppose, her parents are dead,” he whispered softly and my breath left my lungs. I was the reason my parents were dead. I let out a chocked sob and looked out at Dumbledore with blurry eyes once again. The twinkle that Fae had told me about many times was gone. I began to shiver. Dumbledore watched me closely before conjuring a blanket that Fae threw around my shoulders, although I didn’t notice a difference.

“She can feel our emotions,” Fae said suddenly, her eyes filled with knowing. “One of the Professors was talking about their race one class. He said they were nearly extinct.” Fae gave me a tight-lipped smile before tilting her head towards Dumbledore.

“Yes, Miss. Morgan, you are right. Empaths are indeed magical creatures, magical humans actually. They feel other’s emotions and at times even feed off them…” Dumbledore stopped and let his worlds trail off into the silence that had enveloped the room.

Fae was humming again, a thing she did often when she was thinking. “If she’s magical, how come she doesn’t go to a school like Hogwarts?” My head shot up and my brain screamed “NO!” I was not going to a magical school, never.

Dumbledore picked up on my discomfort instantly, but he disregarded it with a careful wink. “Sometimes magic doesn’t descend onto humans before the usual age. Some Empaths are never even discovered. I guess 17 is the age for you cousin.”

“So…Headmaster, will she come to Hogwarts? If she has magic and all anyway?” Fae asked her eyes brightening as she finished her sentence. “Oh Addie, Hogwarts! You could come to Hogwarts with me,” Fae exclaimed and clapped her hands excitably, but her happiness was short-lived as Dumbledore gave a sudden cough.

“Miss. Morgan, please don’t get your hopes up, for you cousin is not magical in the sense that we teach. She wouldn’t be able to learn anything about her powers at Hogwarts, except perhaps potions. Some Empaths were skilled at Potions, something in their magical make-up. So you see, Miss-Miss Harris what ARE you doing?” Dumbledore asked incredulously as he saw me beginning to open the kitchen door that led out of Fae’s house.

“I’m NOT going to a magical school and I’m NOT going to sit here while you two so happily decide my future and my home is sitting in ruins. I’m GOING home,” I seethed at them before I wiped the last tears from my eyes, whirled around, stomped out of the house and slammed the door shut. I grunted in frustration as the sleeve of my black sweater was caught in the door. I tugged and tugged again, but my sleeve would not come loose. Slowly I slid down; my eyes began to water again. I hit the concrete step with a soft thud and the tears began to flow freely.

“Oh Addie,” Fae cooed as she opened to door and freed my trapped sleeve. I lay a blubbering mess on her doorstep, but she still bent down to hug me. “You’re coming with me to Hogwarts Addie,” she whispered huskily into my hair.

I already knew I was.

Yeah. That’s how I came to Hogwarts and that's why I get to meet Sirius Black nearly every day (not every day because I’m a Ravenclaw and he’s a Gryffindor), it’s because I’m the reason my parents are dead. Fae says it’s not my fault and sometimes I believe her, but I lie to myself too often.

Just like I’m lying to myself that Sirius Black really does like me and he’s not just trying to get back at his parents. To him, all I am is a muggle girl who chanced upon Hogwarts. Of course, I’m not really a muggle…just partially one, but like Black really cares about that. His parents loathe him and with him dating me, a supposed muggle, they’ll just love him even more. Of course, I’m being sarcastic. Sirius Black is an arrogant, pompous and unbelievable sexy (can’t fight the truth) wizard and with me at his side he’s about to put his new plan into motion. The “muggle” effect.

A/N:: Well Isn't this a nice little story I've whipped up?  Yes, I know.  It's rough and following my main trend of Sirius/OC, but I've come to love this fic to death.
This beginning is rather urgh to me, but I promise that it gets much better.
Thanks for reading and don't forget to drop me a review!

This was beta-ed by the amazing Boots, or Puffyboots.  Hehe. 

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