Disclaimer: The wizarding world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling as do all characters from it, even if they are warped out of shape to an extent where you don't recognize them anymore.

This story is inspired by 'A Marauders' Cliché' by magic-spelldust, an amazing story which sadly only had 3 chapters before the author abandoned it. I have changed a lot, but that's where I got the idea.

Back to the Marauders' Era

Prologue

~"It is a cliché that most clichés are true, but then, like most clichés, that cliché is untrue."~

-Stephen Fry

I slammed my laptop shut in annoyance. Still fuming slightly, I stood up from my desk chair and went over to lie on my bed

Canonical Sirius Black does not fall in love with a Slytherin OC, damn it! I thought angrily. Why was the concept so hard to grasp for authors? Sirius Black, hater of all things remotely Slytherin, would not fall in love with some transfer student with the personality of a brick, just because she had boobs the size of melons.

I was getting too worked up, I knew it. It just annoyed me so much when authors warped canon without labeling the story as 'alternative universe'. Because Sirius falling for a Slytherin would definitely only happen in an alternative universe.

When I read Fanfiction, I wanted to read about the characters I knew and loved, not unrealistic and unrelatable original characters and the shadows of the characters from the books.

"Chloe?" My mum's voice drifted up from downstairs. "Can you get down here?"

I stood up slowly, glancing at my reflection in the mirror as I passed. Still the same dishwasher-blonde hair, dull grey eyes and pale skin.

Perhaps the reason I hated so-called Mary Sues – basically, characters without realistic flaws, too perfect to be real or relatable – was because I knew that the only way I'd be even remotely as beautiful or popular was in an alternative universe.

I did have friends, and I had been in a (not very serious) relationship before, but there was no way that guys would fall in love with me after a exchanging a few sentences, as was often the case in badly-written fanfiction.

I trudged down the stairs, pausing only to pull up the zipper on my over-sized sweater, and into the kitchen.

My mum was hurrying around the kitchen in a short black dress and stilettos, stirring the soup on the stove, making toast whilst simultaneously throwing objects into her open handbag on the counter like the super-mum she is.

Since my dad left us when I was seven, she'd been raising me alone, having a stressful job and been going on more dates than I'd probably have in the rest of my life. She also looked amazing, with golden-blonde hair and baby blue eyes. I had no idea why I got stuck with my dull features – I blamed my dad.

"I made soup and toast, I'll be back before two! Be good and behave!" She said, giving me a quick kiss and rushing out.

"Aren't being good and behaving the same thing?" I called after her.

"Yeah, whatever, do both!" She shouted from the hallway. "Love you!" I heard the front door bang shut.

I turned the stove off and poured myself some soup. Snatching the warm toast from the toaster, I plodded back into my room.

Grabbing my laptop, I placed the soup and toast on my desk and let myself fall back into my chair.

Except, I missed it.

I landed with a crash on the floor, my head banging into the metal wheels of my desk chair, my laptop smashing to the ground next to me.

Then everything went black.