Hello and welcome to my story! This is my first fanfiction so please be patient with it, it'll take a bit to get me going. Please leave me a review, anything is great. Thanks!
Disclaimer: Everything that you recognize belongs to JKR
"Carly, we're gonna be late!" I shout, hoping that she'll hurry up with the portkey. I mean, seriously, how long does it take to walk in and have some Ministry bloke say, 'Yeah, you can use this to go to Kings Cross.' Really. That's all it is. I've watched it dozens of times. Five minutes, tops. Merlin, I'm so going to miss the train.
Not that I'm impatient or anything.
"CARLY! MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!" I tap my foot and cross my arms, hopefully I look imposing. You know, to make her feel bad about taking so long.
"Here I am!" Carly finally comes out of the office, smiling down at me and entirely ignoring my angry stance. I give a huff and do my best to glare. After trying to maintain eye contact for several seconds, I give up the glare and smile instead. Carly always makes me smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks, holding up long chain that is the long-awaited Portkey. "Yep! But the real question is, are you ready for me to go? You know, you won't be able to bask in my presence for the next three months, better bask for as long as you can." I say jokingly, flipping back some hair and striking a pose.
I hold the stance for another minute before we both burst out laughing. I'm so going to miss her. Who is she, you ask? Well, Carly is actually my dad's long-term girlfriend. My dad, dating? Yeah, it's weird sometimes. When he and Carly first started going out I couldn't stand to be around her for more than three minutes at a time, and now she's one of my favorite people in the whole world. She's more like the older sister I never had than my dad's girlfriend.
After laughing like crazy people for a while, and attracting lots of strange looks from solemn Ministry workers, we calm down enough to finish our conversation. "Got all your things?" Carly asks me, glancing at the big trunk next to me. "Yup, got it all," I say cheerfully, excited to see my friends again.
"I'm going to miss you so much-we both will," Carly says sadly, putting her hands on my shoulders. "Have a great year," she says softly. I smile, and then give her a big hug, big enough to last till Christmas.
When we let go of each other, I ask, " When, exactly, is my Portkey leaving?"
"In... one minute." We hug again. "Tell dad I love him, okay?" I whisper, "and I'll miss you both so much." She glances at her watch, "Okay, your Portkey is about to leave. I'll tell Seamus that and I'll see you soon!" She smiles and stands back, not wanting to get sucked in with the Portkey. "See you at Christmas!"
I smile and hold tightly to the chain as it starts to glow bright blue, it's time for me to go.
There's the sound of breaking glass, and people are shrieking, but I don't care, I'll be gone in a few seconds. Plus, the Ministry people have been very easily spooked since the last Wizarding War. It's probably a stray owl or something similar.
I feel the familiar tug behind my navel, and smile to Carly. But she doesn't smile back, instead she looks scared. She reaches for her wand and as the Portkey tugs me away something hits me in the head and I am spinning, and the world goes black.
The world is blurry. Odd, that's not one of the normal side effects of Portkeying. Hmm. As I try to remember what the normal effects of Portkeying are, I realize something. I just can't remember anything.
Great. Just great.
I take a deep breath as I try to let the memories come back to me. Simple things, simple things first. Let's start with something basic. My name. Should be easy enough.
My name is Lena Finnegan.
I am sixteen.
My dad is named Seamus.
Carly is awesome.
So am I.
OK! It's all coming back to me now. Good. Now, why in the world am I laying on the ground, in Kings Cross Station of all places? Oh, yeah. Portkey. Head. Ouchies. I tentatively touch the top of my head. Yep, that's a bump all right. That'll hurt later.
I sit up and wince as all the blood rushes from my head. As my vision clears I glance up and notice the time. Oh, crap. It's five till. Greeaatt.
I jump up and jerk my super-heavy trunk up with me and race towards Platform 9 3/4. After looking both ways for Muggles, I run onto the Platform.
It's still crowded, but with more parents that students, seeing as the train leaves in... two minutes. I hurriedly make my way through the crowd to the train. I believe I smashed a couple toes with my trunk. Oops.
Finding a compartment right before the train leaves is tricky business. The trick is to look towards the front of the train. If you can't find an empty one up there you're basically screwed and will have to ask weird Hufflepuff third years if you can sit with them. And then spend the rest of the trip having the boys stare at you. And have to listen to said compartment mate's irritating conversations the rest of the way. Not that I have any experience in this area. That is preposterous.
Lucky for me I find an empty compartment pretty quickly. Now all I have to do is wait for the train to move and for my friends to look for me. Since the train just started moving I know that I have at least a half hour or so alone before anyone finds me. Perfect time to try out that new Droobles Bubble Gum I got last week.
Yum. As an added bonus the bubbles turn different colors as they float around the room. Endless amusement right there, folks.
While I am happily jumping around the compartment making sticky shapes out of the bubbles I've made the compartment door slides open and large hands cover my eyes.
I smile, the voice doesn't belong to my best friends, but I'd still know that voice anywhere.
"James!" I exclaim, and try to pull his hands off my face. "You can't hide from me! Now get those mitts of yours off my face!"
I hear a low chuckle and I smile again, "Hello to you, too, Rachel."
Wait, who's Rachel?
I stop smiling and my hands fall from James', trying to get them off me was useless. He's just too strong. But why is he calling me Rachel? I 'm pretty sure he knows me well enough to know my name. Maybe he's just messing with me.
"James, don't try to fool me, you know perfectly well my name is not Rachel. I thought knowing you for six years was long enough for us to get past this point." I laugh a bit, and resume the attempt at removing my blindfold.
His hands fall off at my touch, "What do you mean, Rachel? We've only been going out since the end of last year- not six years." He sounds confused. And I'm confused, too. Why would I be dating James? He's like my brother. I turn around. Standing in front of me is a teenage boy who looks kind of like James, and has brown eyes and glasses. This isn't James I know, unless in the last few months he shrunk an inch and changed eye color and suddenly needed glasses.
"Who the hell are you?" I ask, more confused than I've ever been. This even tops the time that Grandma walked into the house wearing a sports bra and basketball shorts while carrying a Yorkie.
He looks just as confused as I am, and says, "I think the question here is how the hell do know my name?"
"Umm..." I mumble, "I actually don't know your name, I just thought you were my friend, James, because he does that sometimes. Wait. Your name is James, too?"
"Yeah, that's me, the one and only James Potter."
Crappers. I don't' know this kid at all.
"Are you serious? James Potter? Or are you playing some sort of sick joke? 'Cause you sure aren't the James Potter I know." I say, hoping that someone is pranking me.
"Why would I be playing a joke?" he asks, looking even more confused, " I am James Potter, you know, one of the Marauders?" he speaks the last bit very slowly, like I'm stupid or something. "James H. Potter. Partners in crime with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew." he says this even slower, nodding his head all the while.
James H. Potter?
Merlin, this isn't good.
My James is James S. Potter II. That can only mean... this is James Potter... the first?
I look at James Potter Sr. with wide eyes and do the only thing I can.
Why in the world am I suddenly seeing dead people? Can I see ghosts now? I don't want to see ghosts, though, too many people died at Hogwarts during the War. There must be hundreds.
There must be a logical explanation for all this, I think as I slam shut the bathroom stall closed.
There's gotta be.
And here's the end of my first chapter! Again, please leave me a review, it'll really help me as a writer to better this story. Also, I totally made up the term "Portkeying".