Chapter 1: It's a Gift

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Any names used are fictional- randomly gotten from the depths of mine and hyuga-hanyou-lover's minds, and any connection to persons living or dead is coincidental. I do happen to own two OCs (Taylor & Brandon) in here. I don't own the third though.

Note: This chapter has been edited because I felt like it. I changed my OC's last names. I dunno why, but I felt like these new last names fit them better. I have also made some revisions. This story is officially active once again, and I shall write more for it. Mainly because I have lost the majority of my interest with Naruto (said interest has been replaced with Resident Evil and Harry Potter). Enjoy my revised first rule!

Rule #1: The first thing you should do if you find yourself stranded in the Harry Potter world, is try and see if any of your friends are also there. Really, you never know when those friends may come in handy.

Taylor

I see you all have welcomed my awesomely-godlike presence to tell my side of this story. Of course, maybe I should introduce myself.

I am Taylor Lynne Lehrer, and I am, or was, turning 16 in four or so months. I have light brown hair, green eyes, and glasses. A lot of people (and by a lot I mean most everyone) describes me as very eccentric, with a god-complex and narcissistic tendencies. I seriously think they're just jealous of my awesomeness. I mean if they weren't, why complain about it, eh?

Right, back to the story. Let's see... I'm pretty sure this entire thing started with me getting an odd urge to re-read the entire Harry Potter series and re-watch the movies. Huh. Anywhozals, I cracked open the first book, and then I do believe I passed out. I dunno, all I know know is that I somehow woke up in an abandoned house somewhere in Britain, and younger than before...

I don't know about any of you readers, but I am a very angry person when I'm woken up. As such, since someone or thing was knocking on the door, effectively waking me, I growled and punched the closest thing to me. Which just happened to be a wall. So it fucking hurt. A lot. I colourfully swore (seriously I swore fricken rainbows), rolled off the couch I was on (when the hell do I sleep on a couch?! I have a perfectly comfy bed!) and made my way over to the door, wrenching it open with an angry hiss.

On the doorstep was some old lady. She looked familiar though... Damn, I should lay off the sweets before bed. Because I swear to Jeeves, that Professor McGonagall from Harry Potter was on my doorstep. Her hand was raised, as if she was about to knock once more. I stared at her for a second, before slamming the door shut. "I don't want no cosplayers in my home." I shouted, absently realizing the double negative, and walked back into the living room to get a few more Z's in. I froze just inside the room though. "The fuck!? How in the hell did you get in here?!" I pointed at her, as she was sitting on the couch I awoke on, sipping a cup of tea. She looked up at me, one of her eyebrows raised.

"Language, Miss Lehrer. And I got in through Magic." I snickered, thinking that she was kidding. Until she conjured up another cup of tea, and held it out to me. That made me stare blankly for a moment, before grinning widely.

"Really! Awesomesauce!" Now don't get me wrong, I've always believed in magic and what not. I simply resigned myself to never being able to do it. McGonagall stared at me as if I was crazy.

"That's all it took? Most muggleborns need more of a demonstration." I scoffed, and waved a hand in dismissal.

"Dudette, I'm no muggleborn. I'm a pureblood from Germany. My 'rents, though, raised me Muggle for the majority of my life. They were... strange peeps." Oh yeah, my epic lying skillz. Yes, "skills" with a "z". The professor nodded in acceptance.

"I see. I guess that's why you were so used to Magic." She looked around the room. "Why do live here instead of with your parents?" She eyed me suspiciously. "Speaking of parents, where are they?" I blinked, and thought quickly.

"Oh... They... died about a year ago. I was in an orphanage, but I ran away... they didn't like me or my magic much. I feel a little guilty though, at leaving my friends I made there..." I trailed off when McGonagall flinched. Now that I think about it, don't most Dark Lords have a past that involves mistreatment in an orphanage? Hmm. I need to research this.

"Ah, do you know their names?"

"Roderick and Erna." Thank me that I looked up random names a long while ago. I looked back at her, and saw her nod.

"I think I remember seeing something like that in the Prophet. I suppose I should take to Diagon Alley, and then Gringotts. You can make your purchases on your own after you finish business at Gringotts, right?" I nodded, bringing a mental map of Diagon to the forefront of my brain. It was rather blank, as I wasn't quite sure how big Diagon was. On second thought, maybe I should ask her to accompany me... She rummaged through her robes, and pulled out a beige-ish coloured envelope. "Here's your Hogwarts Letter." I grinned, and took it from her. It read, 'Miss T.L, Lehrer. The Living Room, the Fourth Abandoned House, Spinner's End.' Now where have I heard that street name before? Oh well. I turned, and followed McGonagall out of the house.

Brandon

Hello readers. My name is Brandon Smythe. I was about to turn 16 in three weeks, thus making me the eldest in my triangle of friends. I am rather antisocial, and couldn't care much about anything. I only have two friends, Taylor- you know, the crazy one, and Sam (she'll be introduced after me). I have really light blond hair, and I have been told that my eyes were a piercing blue colour. Taylor keeps calling me "Malfoy". I retaliate by calling her an idiot.

I'm getting off track. My tale begins with me walking up the driveway to Taylor's house. She had called me over, saying something about having a "Harry Potter Marathon of Awesome". She threatened to drag me from my house (please, understand. She really would have done this), should I not show up. I entered her house, only to find her absent. I sighed, and made my way into her living room, the designated "Wait Here for Me or Die Room." She wasn't there, but one of her Harry Potter books was on the ground. With a shrug I picked it up.

I don't remember much of what happened afterwards. I read a line or two, about the Sorting, and I think I must have been more tired than I felt, because I fell asleep on her couch.

I awoke later in a kind of lumpy bed, in an unfamiliar room. I jumped out of the bed with a shout. I had shouted louder than I thought, because some weird lady came running in. She looked... Old. Like, ancient. I bet she saw dinosaurs while she was a child. "Uh..." I started, not knowing what to say.

"Hello young'un." That accent. English. I must be somewhere with a high population of English people. I gave her one more glance over, before I started to look around the room.

"Where am I?"

"Sepulchre's Orphanage. We found you a block or two away unconscious." I nodded, and stood tall.

"Thank you." I gritted my teeth at saying those unfamiliar words. "But I must be going. My... sister will be missing me." I guess Taylor could be called my sister. The lady stared at me.

"How old is your sister?"

"21." Whoa, I think Taylor's lying "skillz" have gotten to me. She nodded, and moved out of the way.

"By the way, young man, what were you doing unconscious, and what is your name?"

"I'm Brandon Smythe, and I was walking home from a friends house, when I heard a loud noise. I dunno, I must have been really tired." I adopted a "scared" look. "My sister must be extremely worried! I gotta go!" I dashed out of the room before she could ask me another question.

I was out of the Orphanage and four blocks away before one could even say "Orphanage". And then I was just wandering around the town I was in. Dammit, I had gotten myself lost. What fricken luck. "Ugh, might as well walk around aimlessly. No, that sounds like something Taylor would... do..." I trailed off, before I smacked myself. "Why don't I just ask for directions?!" With a groan, I turned and dashed off down the closest road.

I really should have stuck to the road I was on before. Seriously. The houses on the road I turned down all look abandoned. All of them. Except maybe that one way down the road. I could see a somewhat trimmed lawn. "But it looks like no one is home..." I mumbled to myself. As I passed by what I thought was the fourth abandoned house, it's door opened, and some weird old lady stepped from it. Then I heard it. That achingly familiar voice.

"So what, we gonna go or what- Oh hey! Brandon!" Taylor. For fuck's sake, why couldn't it had been Sam? At least then I could have pretended to not know her!

"Taylor." I looked at her, and then the older woman. The woman was looking back and forth between us, before she dug through her pockets, and pulled out an envelope. She walked forward, until she was a foot or two away from me.

"Brandon Smythe?" Whoa, how did she know my name?

"Yeah?" She nodded to herself, and handed the envelope to me. I looked down at it, and raised a brow. It read, 'Mister B.B, Smythe,The Street, Spinner's End.' I was about to ask what the hell it was, when Taylor shouted.

"Yeah! Brandon can come with us to Gringotts!" Somehow, I knew that this was going to ruin me later.

Sam

Hi there readers. I guess it's my turn to tell my side of waking up. But first, let me tell you all about myself. My name is Sam, short for Samantha (but don't you dare call me that!), Callow. I was the second oldest in our group of friends, turning 16 in a month. My hair is an auburn colour, and my eyes were a rather uninteresting shade of light brown. I'm quite the studious child, although I was a bit shy. However, hanging around Taylor and enduring the brunt of her God-Complex caused me to change from extremely shy to hyperactive and loud in a heartbeat. Yeah, my friends and I are strange.

Yeah, my story's just as interesting as Brandon's there. I went into Taylor's house (speaking of that, Taylor you should really leave your spare key where it's not in plain sight), and spent half an hour searching through the house, before finally settling into the living room. I went to sit on the couch, when I saw a Harry Potter book on it. I raised an eyebrow at it, and snatched it up. Like the others, I don't remember exactly what happened. I read a line, something about a three-headed dog called "Fluffy", and fell asleep.

I awoke sometime later in a tree of all places. I looked down, and noticed I was, like, seventy feet off the ground. Okay, that's an overstatement. I was only about four feet off the ground, but seriously! I was scared. I mean, I remember being in a house, and then I was in a tree. Did someone kidnap me? Damn, I always thought Taylor would be the one kidnapped first...

After a few minutes of contemplating about how I ended up in the tree, I had climbed down. I looked around, and noticed I was in some grassy and tree-filled park. "I seem to be in a nature park..." I nodded at my logic, and started making my way out of the park. Do you readers know how easy it is to get lost in a park? Because either it's really easy, or my sense of direction sucks. I'm banking on the latter.

Right! After stumbling through the underbrush for about half an hour, I ended up on a sidewalk. My arms and legs were pretty red, and some cuts that I had gotten somewhere along the line were bleeding. I reached up, and tried to smooth down my roughed up hair. People around took one look at me, and then walked off. Unhelpful bastards. Not a single one asked if I was okay.

So after I took a breather, I tried to identify where I was. I, by some weird inkling, looked up. And then I saw it. The Big Ben. "Holy... I'm in London. And not the one in Canada..." I grinned, and started to walk off. And wouldn't you reader's believe it, I saw someone who I thought was fictional. Harry freaking Potter. Although that just made me think I was dreaming, but then I remembered all my cuts (which stung a lot by the way). Something in the back of my mind said that this entire thing was all Taylor's fault...

Since I was not paying attention to anything other than my thoughts, I had started to unconsciously follow Harry and that weird giant dude who was with him. I was knocked out of my thoughts by an owl, who decided that my head must have been the most comfortable spot in all of London. That's right, an OWL, thinking about my comfortable hair, swooped down, and fricken nosedived right into my head. It hurt. Like hell. "Ow! Damn owls! It's a conspiracy I tell you!" And that signified the entrance of my hyperactive tendencies.

I rubbed my head, and glared at the owl, who was perched innocently on a sidewalk-sign. It stuck it's leg out at me. It was then I noticed that there was a letter attached to it's leg, and that I had at least four robe-clad people and one normal looking preteen staring at me. With an angry sounding huff, I looked down at the neat writing. 'Miss S.H. Callow, The Leaky Cauldron, London.' I looked up from the letter, and noticed that that weird giant dude with Harry was right next to me. I stared up at him.

"Um... Hi?" I squeaked, my shyness towards strangers coming out. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a shout. A rather familiar shout.

"Professor! I know that chick! Brandon! It's Sammy-Sam!" I turned angrily.

"Don't call me that Taylor! That's a horrible nickname and you know it!" And my shyness flied out the window. Oh how I hope it crashed and burned. I heard an exasperated sigh, and turned to the two accompanying Taylor. I noticed one was Brandon, and the other... was yet another fictional character.

"Sam, just drop it. We're all going to some place called Gringotts, to get money." I nodded.

"Okay." Taylor whooped in joy, and started to drag me and Brandon into the Leaky Cauldron. Why, oh why, did I not listen to my gut feeling and refused to enter the Alley with Taylor?

A/N: And end. This story is here for my writer's block relief, so don't expect to many updates a month. Even if this story is active once again.