ALL POETRY IN THIS FANFICTION, UNLESS STATED OTHERWISE, WAS WRITTEN AND BELONGS TO ME. YOU MAY NOT USE IT WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

Disclaimer: All things from the Harry Potter books in this fanfiction do not belong to me. They belong to J. K. Rowling.

Running faster than ever,
Having no fun at all.
Lies surround her;
They drown her.
No longer feeling that small.

Rainy ran farther and farther, deeper and deeper into the forest. Blood and tears were dripping down her face, which was mostly covered with her black hair that she had grown so tired of with throughout her life. She couldn't stand it any longer; the knowledge of being a murderer was burning inside her. It was killing her. She had to go back. She had to change history.

4 Months Ago

It was all too much now. She couldn't stand it. She was going back for her seventh year of Hogwarts soon, but now she wasn't sure whether or not she would want to. What was the point? She already had her OWLs, so what was the point of getting her NEWTs? And it wasn't like anybody would miss her. All she had was that little group of friends, who probably didn't like her that much anyway.

Lorraine DeAmico was the same age as a group of people in her year, known as the Marauders. They were known by everyone in the school, and liked by most people. There were four of them. There was Sirius Black- known for his good looks, sense of humor, and many past girlfriends, James Potter- Sirius's best friend, known for his good looks (not as good as Sirius's though), being the chaser and captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and his sense of humor, Remus Lupin- smart, also good looking but not as good as Potter or Black, and a prefect, and Peter Pettigrew- small, blonde, and funny-.

By the end of her 6th year, Lorraine had come to the conclusion that she wasn't ever going to get noticed by anybody unless she did something. The Marauders were almost legends, and they were the complete opposite of her.

Her friends had always said to not be so scared, but she really couldn't help it.

Invisible and silent,
Going by unnoticed,
Needs some help,
But air's the closest.

She had to be at Kings' Cross soon, so she grabbed her trunk and stuffed it into a backpack that had a charm on it that made it fit more things in it. Lorraine shuffled out of her house and walked down the street. Her town was practically empty. There were almost no ways to entertain people there, and there was garbage all over all the grass. The roads were old and were practically falling apart.

Empty and lonely,
Like a ghost town,
Not really homely,
Makes people frown.

Lorraine slowly walked down on the old sidewalk. There was nobody else outside, and some of the only things she could hear were the wind, the mice, the dogs, and the radios inside houses. "Hey you!" came a raspy whisper from between two buildings.

She turned to the right, and looked into the shadows of the alley. "Who's there?"

"Come closer, down here!"

Lorraine cautiously walked into the darkness, saying, "Who are you?"

A hand reached out, grabbed her arm and pulled her deeper into the darkness. "Do you want to do something that can make you have a meaning?" The person began. "That will help somebody, and will make people notice you."

"What… What's the thing?"

"Have you ever heard of Lord Voldemort?"

"N-n-no." She said.

"Excellent… Well, do you want to work for him?"

"Well…"

"Excellent."

Pain suddenly surged through the arm that the person was holding. "If anybody hears about this, you will suffer a most painful death." And with that, the person disappeared.

Lorraine sat in the empty compartment of the train. She rolled up the left sleeve of her blouse. Right there was something that looked like a tattoo of a skull and a snake coming out of the mouth. The arm still burned badly, and she couldn't stand it anymore. She was starting to regret she had ever walked into that alley.

The door to the compartment opened, and she quickly rolled down her sleeve. "Hello Cameron."

Cameron was a short girl, one year younger than she was. She had dark brown hair, green eyes and a unique sense of fashion, which she couldn't express when she had to wear her school uniform. She was sometimes what people called a 'tomboy' but would get mad at anybody who called her that. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

Lorraine looked out of the window, which was covered with raindrops. She could hear the rain falling down hard on the train. "I don't want to go to school this year. But my parents are making me."

"Why not?"

"There's not really much of a point to it."

"Yes there is!"

"Sure…" She sighed, grabbing her left arm, attempting to stop it from hurting. The pain was almost unbearable.

Regret but don't reveal,
Take but don't steal,
Stinging and pain,
Not yet to blame.

"Yes, professor. I won't use the Time Turner for anything bad. Have I ever broken a rule? No."

"Okay then, Miss DeAmico, but please remember that if you use it for anything but to get to your classes, we will find out and you will get in trouble with not only the school but possibly the Ministry as well."

"Yeah, I know. I know." Lorraine said to Professor McGonagall. "I'm the kind of person you can trust with this time glass thing. I'm nothing like those Marauders."

"Okay. You may go back to the Great Hall for the feast. Good day."

"Okay, b-" Mid-word, the tattoo on her left arm started to sting more than before. Her right hand flew to her arm and gripped the spot where the tattoo as she dropped down onto the floor of the professor's office, groaning in pain.

"Are you okay, Miss DeAmico?" McGonagall asked.

Still clutching her left arm, Lorraine stood up, nodding. "Yeah, sure. Don't worry about me. I cut my arm by mistake this morning. It's nothing."

"Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"No. No, really." She forced a smile.

"Well… You may go now."

"Bye." She stumbled out of the office.

Why was it suddenly hurting so much? She rolled up her sleeve, and looked down at the tattoo, which was now almost glowing. What did it mean? Was somebody trying to contact her? Or maybe they were trying to summon her…

She couldn't risk just going to the Great Hall and hoping for the best. Lorraine ran out of the castle and looked around. She had to get off grounds, so maybe someone could apparate her to wherever they wanted her to go.

She ran across the grounds, running faster every second, just as the tattoo was hurting more and more every second. By the time she got to where it definitely considered off the grounds, the tattoo was burning like hell. She fell onto the ground, clutching it. Not only was she in pain now, but she was also tired, and hungry. She had missed the feast and hadn't had lunch, nor breakfast.

Confusion,
Hunger,
Tears,
Pain.
To make her day the worst,
All she needed was rain.

Just as Lorraine thought up that poem in her head, she disappeared and reappeared in a dark, cold graveyard.

A/N:
Duuuude! It took me about one month to write this, and would've taken me longer if I hadn't been on my computer for 12 hours everyday for the past few days. I would really appreciate if you review this, and tell me everything that's wrong about the fanfiction so far and everything that you like about it, because that will just help me make my next story even better! You can also ask me questions in the review, and I'll answer them in my next chapter. If the story ever gets boring, please don't just stop reading it, because it will end up getting interesting soon. I hope you enjoyed chapter one! Next chapter will be up in a week from today, February 23, 2005. Bye!