"The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well."
I slowly shut the book and wiped the few remaining tears from my eyes. It was done. After years of magic and adventure, Harry Potter was over. I couldn't believe it. It had ended exactly as I hoped it would. Harry lived, happily ever after and Voldemort was defeated. All really was well.
Well, all was well in the world of Harry Potter. My world was little less exciting. I was a college grad with no job and no prospects. My major was psychology, and unbeknownst to me at the time, there aren't many jobs you can get with that type of degree. I was living on my own in St. Louis. I had no family to speak of. That's what happens when your mom was a sixteen year old drug addict and your dad was some nobody. I was dumped at the nearest orphanage and I was never adopted. Truth be told, I never really felt like I fit in anywhere. I was an outcast in school and I never had any hobbies.
Then Harry Potter came along, and I was hooked. I couldn't get enough. I read ever book, saw every movie and even read my fair share of fanfiction. My favorite stories were the ones where James and Lily survived. That was the only part of the true story I had a problem with. Knowing what it was like to live alone and unloved, I wanted the opposite for little Harry. It just wasn't fair for him to grow up like that and then suffer through seven years of added torture by Voldemort and his minions. That particular topic was on my mind as I drifted off to sleep, not knowing my life was about to change drastically the next morning.
"Ugh, I've got to wash these sheets, they're so dirty." I slowly swung my feet over the side of the bed, but instead of my soft apartment carpet, my feet hit cold hard wood. My eyes shot open and I took in the sight in front of me. I was no longer in my third floor loft apartment in downtown. I was in some muggy, dusty old room apparently next to some ridiculously loud train tracks. I immediately panicked. Where the hell was I? I got up and looked for the door. I walked into the hall to find that I was in some sort of inn or hotel. Just then a woman with a large pointed hat walked by, broom sweeping behind her. I assumed she was one of the housekeepers. "Apparently she doesn't use that floating broom enough. The state of this place is…"
That was when I realized something in that last sentence wasn't right. I replayed it back in my mind. Floating broom? There's no way that was right. I shook my head and headed towards the stairs. I had to figure out where I was and soon. I had a job interview at 4 with an office that would likely choose someone else for the job. Story of my life. Still, I would like to at least arrive on time. I bumped into a man at the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, excuse me, ma'am. Didn't see you there." The man couldn't have been much older than me. I turned to him and just stared for a moment. He was a bit taller than me, with brown hair and kind of a tired look to him, like he hadn't gotten much sleep in the past ten years. His appearance did bother me, though. He was so familiar. I felt like I knew who he was, but I just couldn't name him. I guess he noticed I was staring and he just smiled and turned to go up the stairs. After a couple steps, he turned to me and said, "Quick word of advice. You might want to put on some real clothes before walking around the Leaky Cauldron. Not sure Tom would approve of you traipsing around barefoot." He smiled again and was gone.
I looked down and realized I was still barefoot and in my pajamas… which happened to be a tank and a pair of shorts. My face immediately turned red. Then my mind caught up with me again. Did he just say Leaky Cauldron? I raced to my room and looked out my window. I was somewhere busy. There were people in strange cloaks walking up and down the street. Oh my God, could it be? I dug through the drawers and closet, trying to find something suitable. Luckily there was a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in the bottom drawer, and my chucks were right next to the bed, exactly where I had left them the previous night in my room. I ran back out in the hall and tried desperately to find the man I had just ran into. Thankfully, he was leaving a room down the hall.
"Excuse me, could you tell me where I am?" I tried to hide the fear in my voice, but I did a poor job. The man got a concerned look on his face.
"I just told you, you're at the Leaky Cauldron in England. Right off of Diagon Alley?" He must have noticed the horror on my face, because his features became even more concerned. "Are you alright? Do you know where you are? Who you are?"
"My name is Lauren. Lauren Hastings. I'm from St. Louis. I don't know where I am or how I got here. I just woke up in one of the rooms and… and…" Here's where I started hyperventilating.
"Don't worry, I'll help you. You've probably just had some brief memory loss. Have you taken any odd potions lately? Been experimenting with any new spells?"
Potions? Spells? This couldn't be happening. I was too shocked to respond, so I shook my head. He took my arm and started leading me to the stairs.
"Don't worry. I'll take you to someone who can help. He's the smartest wizard I know by far. He'll be able to sort it out. Oh, how rude of me. Here I am taking you to a complete stranger, and I'm still a stranger to you as well. My name is Remus. Remus Lupin."
I stared at the man again, frozen in my tracks. That's why he seemed familiar. This was Remus freaking Lupin. I shook my head back and forth for a minute, trying to regain any sanity I still had left. When that didn't work, I simply smiled up at him and then blacked out.
A/N This is a bit different from other stories I've done, but it's been sitting in my head for a while now. I know how I wanted it to start, and how I want it to end. We'll just have to get there together, won't we?