A/N: Welcome to my all-out second attempt at a SI fic. It'll likely be terrible, but experience improves my writing. I will not try to improve or embellish my character like I did with the first attempt. This will be my personality, plain and simple. My name will not be used. I hope I don't disappoint, but knowing me it will probably happen anyways :P. Enjoy (hopefully).

Chapter 1: Not your Standard SI, is it?

Now I know that most of you reading this are saying to yourselves, "Why am I even here reading this shit? It probably won't be good, just another standard Self-Insertion into the world of Harry Potter!" And then you'll read the first chapter, decide you can probably finish off the story, and then get dragged into it. You'll soon find yourself wishing you were me, becoming me even in your imagination, thanks to my wonderful and masterful use of first-person. You'll reach the end wishing for more, and when I claim to be putting out more you furiously demand it.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps you will simply click or touch a link off the page and never read more of this. Maybe you'll be one of those readers who see me for who I am, a friends and stranger. Your choices are yours to make I suppose. I hope you will read this, my story, to the end but I can't force you to do anything. I can't control you.

Now where should I begin? Oh yes, the beginning of course, I wouldn't want to ramble off like I'm doing now, would I?

I hike through the woods. It's a beautiful day, surprising for Ohio, I know. Normally it's all clouds and such, but today it's pleasantly sunny. I would normally be out here with friends, but I felt that I wanted a quieter hike than normal. With friends I would be raucous and wouldn't be able to appreciate fully the splendor that is nature. I reach the summit of the next hill and look out across the lake. Leaning against the spruce nearest me, I take a breather and prepare to continue walking. Suddenly I feel a vibrating coming from my pocket.

"Must be my mum," I murmur to myself, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. "Hmmmm, unknown number. Well it can't hurt to at least look at the message; I don't normally get these texts for nothing."

I slide open my phone and look at the message. It reads: Get ready for a wild ride with Divine Travels! Now partnered with Magical Baubles for double the fun! You've got to be kidding me. How did these spammers get my cell phone number? I don't even recognize either of those companies! Wait a minute, what's that sound? I turn around, hoping it was just a bird or something. I'm disappointed. Figures. My eye twitches as I observe a hole. Not a hole in the ground, mind you, but a hole in the air, in the very fabric of reality. Words pour out of it as if on some invisible page I no doubt don't have the optical ability to see.

I stand mesmerized by the sight in front of me until I realize, quite belatedly, that I'm moving toward the hole. Why, you may ask? Well, I have no fucking idea, why do you think I'm talking to myself in my own head. It's not as if there's anyone else to talk to. I step closer and closer to the hole despite my best efforts not to. What the hell, I'm just gonna go with it. And with that, I jump into the hole head-first.

I wake up to blackness. Well by blackness I most certainly men the backs of my eyelids, which are in fact not black but red because of the light filtering through. I open my eyes to a rather large bustle of activity in what I suppose would have to be England. I turn about frantically trying to determine my location but the only thought in my head is: SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT! I slow down and take some deep breaths. Passing out here probably isn't a good idea. I turn about more slowly and take notice of a train in front of me. It's bright red, and I walk around to the front of it. It says Hogwarts Express.

Fuck. This can't be legitimate. I can't see this as real. I search for my phone in my pockets but all I find is a stick of wood. I'm about to throw it away but as I look at it I realize it looks suspiciously like a wand. You have GOT to be kidding me. This just isn't possible. I pull my bag from my back and rifle through it looking for my phone but all I find are textbooks and some clothes. The clothes don't even look like the spare I brought either, they look to be—FUCK! They're robes! I sure as hell didn't have those earlier! This has got to be a joke of some kind.

You know what? Fuck it, this could be legit. I might be stuck in my head though. Let me try something. "Wingardium Leviosa," I murmur while I point the wand-like object at my pack which I had placed on the ground. To my immense surprise, it rises. Well shit, this is real. My imagination is terrible, there's no way I could have come up with that. I notice something else almost immediately after this proclamation. I'm 15 again! I don't even remember what I looked like at 15, how am I there now? Suddenly the train blows its whistle and I scramble aboard, having no wish to be left behind.

The train starts moving, and I freak out a bit. If this is in my head, I shouldn't worry. Why am I worrying? My subconscious hasn't appeared to tell me I'm dreaming, so it's probably real. I shake off my fears and start down the hall looking for a somewhat-empty compartment. I look into one near the end and do a double take. What the hell! Was that Harry Potter? I think it was. Let's introduce ourselves, shall we? I open the door.

"You mind if I sit here? I'm new and don't really see anywhere else to sit."

The girl next to who I suspect is Harry and who looks quite a bit like how I had imagined a non-Emma Watson-looking Hermione Granger would look beckons me in. "Your accent is unfamiliar. Where are you from? What's your name? Mine's Hermione Granger. The two with me are Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter." At this, I fall faint into dreamland. Why couldn't this be a fluke? She just HAD to go and shatter my hopes of it being a dream, didn't she?

A/N: Well there's part 1. Not exactly a standard SI, would you say? I tried my best but I'm not sure I got it down. I'm obviously American, so if I use language unfamiliar to you don't worry about it.