Chapter 2
June 18, 1996
A high-pitched shriek startled Liv into consciousness. She groggily wiped at her eyes, confused by the darkness surrounding her. She moved to sit up, her hands hitting a soft pillow. A warm, muscular body jerked from underneath her, and before she could gather her bearings, her body unceremoniously hit warm, hardwood floors. She groaned at the contact and swore under her breath. What just happened? Had someone pushed her off whatever she was resting on?
Slowly, she sat up and rested her arms on her knees, dropping her head between them and squeezing her eyes shut. Her entire body ached, and a throbbing in her head intensified as she sat, trying to collect her thoughts. Sweat dripped down her brow, plastering her black curtain bangs to her forehead. Her throat was excruciatingly dry, and she wished badly for a sip of water.
Flashes of moments came rushing into her mind as she kept her eyes closed: her conversation with Regulus and Severus, Regulus’ quick goodbye, the Time Disc, Sirius, glowing…
Liv’s eyes flew open, her gaze immediately glancing down at her body and arms—no glow. Relief flooded through her until a searing pain spread across her mid-section when she moved. She held her breath as she lifted her sweatshirt and winced. Looking down, she saw a multitude of gashes drying with blood. The wounds still shimmered on her abdomen.
Before her eyes could adjust to the darkness, she heard feet shuffling, what sounded like covers being tossed, and the weight of mattresses shifting. She quickly pulled down her sweatshirt as her ears perked up.
“What in the bloody hell!” A hoarse voice broke the silence and cut through the ringing in her ears. It came from the place directly above her seat on the floor.
“Someone, turn on the lamps.” A clear, calm voice to the left of her made the request. “Ron, was that you who screamed?”
A few snickers wafted through the space. She would have joined in their laughter if she were not so damned confused.
“That wasn’t me!” the hoarse voice yelped unconvincingly. “But someone or something landed on top of me!”
Laughter pierced the darkness, and the voice swore at them. “Haha, very funny, you gits. But really, I swore a body landed on me.”
“Are you sure you weren’t having one of those dreams, mate?” A smooth voice jested. More laughs.
A familiar, concerned voice spoke to her right. “You alright, mate?”
The voice sounded like James. And Ron, who was Ron? Where was she? Getting over the initial shock of her fall, Liv forced her sore muscles to move and stood up from her seated position. She needed her wand for protection and to light the darkness so that she could see where in the hell she was. Instinctively, she reached for her Ash wand and panicked when it was not in her back pocket. It was still pitch dark around her, but she dropped to the floor, anyway, hands fumbling for her wand. She did not even want to think about the problem of a lost wand. How would she defend herself? Her wand was an extension of her magic—she needed it. She reached under what she thought was a bed and met socks, dust mites, and finally, her wand. Fingers curled around the cool, Ash wood, and she sighed in relief at the feel of the tiny runes etched around its handle. She thanked Merlin and any gods she could think of for not losing her wand in whatever messed up travel brought her to the unknown location. Once her wand was safely in her hand, she stood and whispered, “Lumos.”
While her wand tip lit up, lamps around the room came to life, setting a stark hue against the darkness of the hour. She blinked twice as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. A large room focused into view. Had she portkeyed herself back to the Gryffindor dormitory? It felt cavernous compared to the length of the tower—an extension charm, no doubt. Her eyes swiftly took an inventory of what she saw: six beds with deep red and gold trimmed hangings, six desks piled with an assortment of books and trinkets, and six trunks with random pieces of clothing thrown over them. Worry slowly crept into her thoughts, causing a deep panic to settle into her chest. Something felt off. At best, her brother and his friends had found out about her prank and decided to get the best of her before she could act. At worst… nothing good came to mind.
Eventually, her gaze landed on six shocked faces, all staring back at her with various confused expressions—faces that were unfamiliar and not whom she expected to see. She took several steps back to put some space between her and the beds. Was she in the Seventh-Year dormitory? But that could not be right as she knew all the Seventh-Year boys.
A boy with mahogany-brown, shaggy hair and eyes as wide as saucers, unblinking, sat upright in the far bed to her left. He held the bed covers up to his chin as if trying to hide as much of himself as possible. A strange-looking plant sat on his bedside table. To his left was a tall, lanky boy with turquoise hair—a pair of beautiful, dark brown eyes squinted at her as if calculating her movements, trying to figure out if she was a threat. Two boys stood, wands pointed in her direction—one had a missing eyebrow, and the other had black, natural hair and dark skin. The boy with whom she landed on stood with his shoulders square, pajamas disheveled, and a deep blush matching his red hair spread across his freckled face. He looked affronted at her intrusion, and she could not blame him. Finally, she took in a lean boy with messy black hair that stood up on all ends and a face that almost matched her own. Seeing him standing there brought a flood of relief.
“James?” she asked, happy to see her brother. She smiled weakly and slowly moved towards him, extinguishing her wand light with a quick Nox. “You prat—you knew about the prank! How did you find out? Did Regulus cave and let you in on my plan? You both pretend to hate one another, but I know a secret friendship when I see it.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “So much for thinking my prank was brilliant,” she mumbled.
The boy she approached took a defensive step back, his legs hitting a trunk. He raised his wand expertly and pointed it at her chest. She stopped mid-movement in confusion and raised her hands to show that she was not a threat. Her head continued throbbing intensely, and it became difficult to focus on her brother.
“Who—who are you? I’m not James, and I’m fairly certain I don’t know who Regulus is.” His voice was confused, but his defensive stance did not waiver. He pushed a pair of round glasses to the bridge of his nose, setting them higher on his face.
Round glasses… her brother’s glasses were not round. James wore rectangular frames, occasionally the aviator style when he wanted to impress his friends. The more she observed the raven-haired boy’s features, the more she realized that the boy in front of her may not be her brother... but how? He looked just like James, except his nose was shorter, and his eyes were wrong—brilliant green met her amber ones. In fact, if she really thought about it, his shade of green was remarkably familiar to her brother’s paramour, Lily Evans. An odd, lightning bolt-shaped scar sat on his forehead above his brow—James did not have that scar. She knew every scar and cut on her brother’s body, most of which he got while playing with her as children or flying around on their brooms.
A wave of dizziness washed over Liv, and her midsection throbbed again from the gashes. She must have fallen harder than she had thought. She stepped back to lean against a desk for support and accidentally knocked over a few books and quidditch gloves. The group of boys looked at the items strewn across the floor and then back to her face.
“Alright, good one, gents.” A forced laugh escaped her lips as she turned to the boy she thought was her brother. “Jamie, you bested me—what can I say.” Her right hand moved to the bracelet on her left wrist, carefully threading the pearls through her fingers to ground herself. The entire situation she found herself in made her uneasy, but she continued. “I swiped an old Time Disc from Father’s study and had hoped to use it on you and Siri—transporting you both home, but there was a tussle, and the disc broke… something went incredibly wrong.
“Wait—Sirius, which one are you?” Her gaze landed on the red-haired boy. He startled as she shifted her focus to him. “It must be you. You were in his bed—well, your bed. Did you lot take Polyjuice position?” She glanced around at the six figures and then back to whom she thought was Sirius. “Merlin, the resemblance to the Prewett’s is uncanny. I don’t even want to know how you got one of the twin’s hairs. Sorry about falling on you, Siri. Right clumsy of me, but you grabbed my wrist and broke the disc!”
She kept moving the bracelet through her fingers, her heartbeats thumping loudly in her ears as all she received back were blank stares. “Remus...” She searched for the tallest boy in the room, and her gaze landed on surprised dark-brown eyes. She involuntarily took a step toward him. “You’re the only one in this group who could even passably brew Polyjuice.”
There was a pause before the room broke out into an uneasy energy.
The turquoise-haired boy crossed the room to whom Liv thought was her brother and Sirius. He spoke in hushed tones, but she could still hear him.
“Did she just call me Remus?”
“And pretty sure she asked for Sirius,” the James look-alike commented, his wand still aimed at her. The look he sent her way was less suspicious and more intrigued. Liv had a feeling he wanted to know how a random girl materialized in their dorm room.
The Prewett-looking boy turned his head to the two boys who had spoken. “Mate, how does she know about your dad and your godfather?” His arms gesticulated wildly between the two. “She also mentioned my uncles. How does she even know about them? Maybe she’s one of them, a-a Death—”
“Don’t even say those words in this dorm, Ron!”
“And she called you James—you don’t think…” The turquoise head gave them both a meaningful look.
“Guys, why would she ask for Sirius if he’s a wanted criminal?” A nervous voice broke their conversation.
Multiple scoffs rang through the room.
“Neville, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The shaggy-haired boy melted into his covers.
A voice with an Irish accent interjected. “One of us needs to leave and wake up McGonagall. I think she’s bleeding.”
“Not yet! She doesn’t seem like a threat. Absolutely out of her mind, bloody mental, but not a threat.”
“Ron, you’re just trying to avoid detention,” the dark-skinned boy laughed.
“Why would McGonagall give us detention for something we didn’t start?” Neville asked.
“Clearly, we all know that answer—"
As their side conversation continued, the only thing Liv could focus on was a calendar at the far end of the wall that read July – 1996. Her legs shook, but she forced herself to move towards the calendar. As she moved, a sense of dread set in her bones. Heat crept up her body, and it seemed like the room had become 20 degrees warmer. There was no way in Merlin that it was 1996. Twenty years into the future? Absurd. No, if it were 1996, she would be an adult with children and adult responsibilities. No, she was in 1976 finishing her Fifth Year at Hogwarts. She was betrothed to a tall, dark-haired, brooding Black heir who had somehow carved out a place in her heart. She was heading into her Sixth Year with the intention of going into her N.E.W.Ts to hopefully become a trainee Unspeakable post-graduation. She stopped in front of the calendar and squinted at it. Her hand reached up and traced the year.
The large dormitory room felt like it was caving in on her. Her breathing became shallow, and her heartbeat raced a mile a minute. The room quieted as the six boys watched the downward spiral unfold before them.
“No, no, no, no. This is not happening. This is—I don’t—I couldn’t have messed it up so badly. Fuck…” She faltered and leaped back like the calendar had stung her hand. She began to pace and mutter to herself. “If that’s not Jamie, and Siri is not here… but it’s the Gryffindor dormitory—what did I do?” The headache only seemed to intensify as she ran through her thoughts. Her fight or flight mode finally kicked into high gear—she had to find her way out of what was quickly becoming a nightmare.
“Where’s the Time Disc?” she shouted at the boys standing there helplessly. Shrugged shoulders and concerned looks were all she received. “Must have dropped it when I fell…” She turned around and raced to Sirius's—no Ron’s—bed, ignoring the six sets of eyes following her movements. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw one of the boys move toward her as if she were a wounded animal, but an arm shot out and stopped him. She threw back the covers and searched for the device. She shoved her hands under the mattress, in between the fitted sheets, and tossed pillows to the side. “It must be here! Where is it!” Her voice had gone up an octave in panic, and her hair began to spark on the ends.
“Oi! That’s my bed you’re tossing!” The Sirius imposter stalked towards her, but the lanky boy with the calming presence stopped him. He, instead, carefully walked up to her and gently turned her around, keeping her in his grip.
She looked straight into his worried gaze. Her mind could not take the paradoxes any longer. “Please tell me that’s Sirius—” her voice shook, and she pointed at who she now knew was Ron “—and why are Jamie’s eyes jewel green instead of hazel?”
The boy hesitated but answered calmly. “That’s not Jamie, that’s Harry. And Sirius, well, he’s not in this dorm.”
Harry wore a similar worried expression as the boy who had not yet let go of her arms. “Right, I’m getting McGonagall.” He did not wait for his dormmates’ reply and quickly left the room, letting the door slam behind him.
“No—what—Merlin, my head hurts. And I can’t—I can’t—” She fell to the floor and landed awkwardly, taking the kind boy with her, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Hey—hey, you need to take some deep breaths.” His clear voice cut through her own thoughts, and she nodded in agreement, closing her eyes. A cold sweat broke out along her entire body, and she shook from head to toe. Sanity seemed to slip from her grasp, so she reached for the pearl bracelet again and concentrated on his voice. “Four breaths in—good—now out for six counts.”
Liv followed his direction and felt her heart rate slow down, but with it, the exhaustion she felt earlier seemed to intensify tenfold. Spots dotted the line of her vision and she fought to stay upright.
“Is it really 1996?” she breathed. The slow nod of his head was all the confirmation she needed. Her palms dug into her eyes as shock finally took over. “Impossible. This must be a dream. A completely fucked up one!” He winced at her tone, but she did not care. “I need to leave—I need to get up or wake up or something!”
She struggled and pushed herself off the floor, immediately regretting the decision. The room around her swayed. Her floor companion quickly moved to stand up as well. As he did, his hair changed colors from vibrant turquoise to a deep orange. She smiled at him, surprised by the change. Feeling slightly delusional, her hand reached up to his hair. “Incredible,” she whispered, eyes wide in appreciation. “Your voice—it’s very calming.” Her comments froze him mid-way as he stood, and at the same time, her vision tunneled.
The last thing Liv remembered before passing out and hitting the hardwood floors was a pair of concerned, dark brown eyes with gold flecks burning into hers.