A/N. Hullo there fanfiction lovers! This is my debut fanfic, thankyou, thankyou, hold the applause.. *clears throat.* Okay, so.. I have a LOT of ideas for this story, and I'm trying to narrow them down to what I actually want to do, and come up with things to fill in details of my brainstorming. My update schedule is one chapter per Saturday.

SUMMARY: This story technically begins at the beginning of Chamber of Secrets. It is in Yune's point of view, an original character, who as I said in the original summary, is in Ravenclaw. She is a year below Harry. The story will follow her years through school, sort of like the original story follows Harry's. For now, it just follows her and her friends' lives throughout their first and second years. Eventually, they will be going back in time to the Marauders' era, hence the story being labeled OC/Marauders. The plotline itself will unveil as you read ;) I might eventually change this into more than one story, possibly a year or two per story.

And hey, I'm a newbie. Please review, and share ANY and EVERY comment/concern/suggestion, because they will all be at least appreciated, even if I don't end up using them. Or not. We'll see. And plus, it will make me feel good. And making other people feel good makes YOU feel good, so spread the love, dears. Enjoy(:

IMPORTANT: I forgot to put this when I originally posted the story, but I wanted to let you know that Yune is pronounced YOO'nee. It rhymes with "looney." Just clarifying!(:

Ch 1: Of Owls and Ravens

Yune's POV

June 10, 1992

I woke up with a start. I sighed, recalling that I had witnessed the Dream again. The Dream was always the same: I was running out the doors of a huge building—my dream-self never seemed to find the need to turn around and examine what the looming presence I had left was—as if my life depended on it, toward a dark forest. I was clutching something cold in my hand. There were footsteps following me, pursuing me, trying to catch up… I had to reach the forest… When I was underneath the first branches, I slowly opened my hand and turned to face the pursuers, but before I saw either the object or them, I closed my eyes, twisted the object in my hand, and grabbed blindly at the two people in front of me (I assumed it was two, since I only grabbed two wrists); at that moment, my heart always felt as if it was torn out and flung somewhere far away, and I would wake up.

Before I had the chance to ponder what it meant as I usually did, I suddenly realized that it was my eleventh birthday. I jumped out of bed much more quickly than usual and got dressed. I pulled my unruly, curly black hair into a ponytail; I certainly wasn't going to waste my time on hair today. I bounded down the familiar orphanage stairs and into the kitchen.

Mrs. Periwinkle, my caretaker, beamed at me as I took my usual place at the table. (I was the first one up. Hey, stranger things have happened!) As usual, she was dressed all in light blue, her hair tied in a loose knot so as to be out of her face. Today, however, something was different about her. Her eyes sparkled as she said, "Yune, there's a rather small, feathery visitor here to see you!"

I looked at her, bewildered. She slipped out of the room only to return soon after, an entirely black owl perched on her arm; it seemed to be holding something in its beak. The owl fluttered over to where I was sitting and dropped the something, which appeared to be a letter, on my plate.

Ms Y. Black

Room #3 at the head of the stairs

Asbury Orphanage for the Young

London, England

I paused to wonder at how they knew what room I lived in, but it was the first letter I had ever received. It had my name on it. Yune Black. Right there. I opened it quickly.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress"

Attached was a list of the items required. The books were ridiculous; the very first one was The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). The equipment included a wand and a cauldron, and it mentioned we were allowed to bring an owl or a toad or a cat. I stared at Mrs. Periwinkle, completely dumbfounded.

She quickly said, "My dear, this is a great honor. You have wizard blood running through your veins, and Dumbledore told me you would probably get in, though that's about all he told me, minus to keep an eye on you, and your name of course…"

"Dumbledore? The headmaster of a wizard school gave me to you?" The way I said the words "Dumbledore" and "wizard" made them sound like I was discussing Santa Claus, and I was one of his forgotten elves to be fetched to come work at his workshop. I felt my expression turn sour. "Look, if this is supposed to be some kind of good birthday joke—" I began, exasperated.

"No, no, you don't understand! Oh, I knew I should have said something sooner…"

Yeah, you think? But I didn't say so, I loved her too much; she was the only person I had ever called friend. The other orphans…Well, they came and went. Besides, I was never like them anyway. Whenever one would mention favorite books, for example, I found myself starting to analyze some of my favorites aloud; before long, I was in what seemed to be a deep debate, until I realized that it was with myself, not them. I learned to stop talking and just leave the room.

"So you're saying that magic—" I couldn't help but make the word "magic" drip a little scorn, "—is real, and I'm to go to a school to learn it."

She nodded. I sighed. But then I felt myself starting to get excited. I felt that it was right somehow. Besides, anything would be better than the very unsatisfactory lack of anything mentally challenging here at the orphanage, even if it did mean going to a magic school, which would probably make me mentally challenged. Magic. The black owl, who I had almost forgotten was there, gave my head a friendly peck. It just occurred to me that an owl had delivered the fateful envelope. Magic. The word sounded a little more hopeful as I stroked my bird's feathers. I then realized what was different about my caretaker today: she seemed hopeful. Usually she was just extremely worried all the time, always bidding me to be careful. Magic.

"She belongs to you," Mrs. Periwinkle said, shaking me out of my reverie.

I felt a shiver run through me. The owl? Mine?

"In that case, I name her Raven," I replied. I had meant to ask how I had obtained an owl, and why I had never seen her before, but the name came to me on its own accord. Raven met my eyes and blinked. Magic.

August 21, 1992

September was approaching quickly. Today, Mrs. Periwinkle would be taking me to a place called Diagon Alley, apparently hidden behind a pub called The Leaky Cauldron. I climbed into her car, still a little skeptical of it all. I couldn't help it; I had been a boring orphan all my life, for pity's sake!

It seemed to take forever to get there, but upon reflection, the rest of the day's events were a blur. Mrs. Periwinkle was providing me with everything I needed with the money I didn't know she had, especially since I didn't recognize what type of money it was; I had never seen it before. I remember being fitted for school robes (yes, their uniform consisted of black robes and a black pointy hat. How could I go there? I had never even seen a wand before…), finding my books (which was much like a scavenger hunt), browsing the owlery for things for Raven (who insisted on staying glued to my arm, much to the dismay of the afore-mentioned robe fitters), and finally: getting a wand.

9 inches. Ash. Springy. Core: Dragon heartstring.

When Ollivander had found it, he handed it to me with the words, "Haven't given a wand to a Black in years. Though it's not a usual Black wand."

My heart started beating faster. "Usual?" I asked, my voice squeaky.

"Hmm? Well, yes, the Blacks have had a reputation for the Dark Arts, you know. That particular combination doesn't support that sort of thing very well."

I nodded silently and left, staring at my wand as if deciding whether I quite liked it, or if it was going to bite me when I wasn't looking.

Blacks? Usual? Dark Arts?

…Magic?

Well, after spending a day like that, I had to accept that it was real.

September 1, 1992

The next ten days went by rather quickly. As Mrs. Periwinkle led me to the train station from her car, I held her hand like I used to do when I was young. I felt no shame for it; I would be leaving the only friend I ever had to live at a mysterious (magic) school for a year.

She gave my hand a squeeze and let go. "Yune, it's almost time. I remember the first time I stepped onto this platform…" I looked at her, startled, but she only smiled and continued. "Your platform is right here: nine and three quarters."

We were facing a brick wall. She sniffed, and then pushed me and my cart of magical books and items I had no idea how to use—and Raven, of course, still perched on my arm—right into the wall. I closed my eyes, and opened them to behold the Hogwarts Express.

I soon found myself sitting inside of a small train compartment with two companions. Two of them were discussing what house they would be put in; the first one, Reyson, seemed convinced he would be in Gryffindor. "The Calills have been in Gryffindor for ages, so I have my fate pretty much set out for me," he said, somewhat sadly.

Alice, the girl sitting across from him, agreed. Upon reflection, this is the only thing they'd ever agreed about. "Yeah, same for me, except Slytherin. We've been there for almost as long as the Malfoys."

Reyson smirked. "Destined enemies, then. I've heard Slytherins are slimy gits." I had been quiet for most of the ride; force of habit, I suppose, since no one at the orphanage appreciated what I had to say all that often; except for Mrs. Periwinkle, of course. But Reyson, before Alice could make a comeback, asked me, "What about you? What's your name? Where do you think you'll end up? You pureblood too?"

"My name is Yune Black."

Before I could answer any of his other questions (which seemed endless), the Alice girl breathed in sharply. "You're a Black? I thought the Blacks had died out! Well, you'll be in Slytherin with me, then. Who are your parents? Maybe we're related," she said, twirling some of her black hair. Well, we did have a slight resemblance, I suppose, but I noticed that her eyes were a sharp green. I felt a small pang of jealousy; mine had always been a depressing grey.

"Erhm…" I began eloquently. "Well, my parents…I don't know." She tipped her head inquisitively, so I continued. "I've been an orphan all my life; I didn't know anything about magic until I got my letter. I apologize; I don't know what a pureblood is." I directed the last statement towards Reyson.

Alice looked as if she had just eaten something sour. "Nevermind. Must be coincidence." She didn't talk to either of us for the rest of the way there. I decided I didn't like her.

Reyson glared at her, and then looked at me apologetically. "Don't mind her. Like I say, Slytherins are slimy gits." She glared back. "But anyway, pureblood just means that both your parents are wizards, and have been for as long as most people can remember. Halfblood means you're half-wizard, half-muggle decent; and muggle-born—" Alice muttered something under her breath that sounded like "mblud", at which Reyson then gave her the death look, "—I'll deal with her later. As I was saying, muggle-born is when both your parents are muggles."

"Erhm," I said for the second time, "What are muggles?"

I spent the rest of the ride listening to him explain things about the wizarding world; every so often he would flick his dark blonde hair out of his eyes and think for a moment, trying to put it in muggle terms, I suppose. Eventually he also told me who and what the houses were.

Gryffindor, brave.

Slytherin, cunning.

Hufflepuff, loyal.

And Ravenclaw, smart.

Do orphans fit in any of those categories?

I suddenly realized that I very, very much hoped so.

And there you have it. Thanks very much for reading! It was rather short, but it was meant to be more of an introduction than anything.

Please review(: