SURPRISE! This story isn't dead anymore! After finishing my eighth chapter in my Boku no Hero Academia fic (you can find it in my profile), I remembered that I actually had this piece of work that I never got around to doing, so for now I've made some minor changes (mostly grammatical) and polished the sentencing up a bit.
I promise that I'll eventually get around to working on this fic, but I currently want to do the MHA one more. It's actually pretty good, if I do say so myself, so go check it out!
Chapter 1
You'd think that as a seventeen year-old, I'd get used to random shit getting handed my way by the clusterfuck that was life.
Apparently, that didn't seem to be the case.
Out of all the things I could have been doing, when I could have been doing my AP homework, it was playing around with my replica of Dumbledore's wand from Harry Potter.
If I so chose, I'd try to write a fanfiction story, but I was just too damn lazy to do it. I had better things to do, anyway. Like trying to get Plat in Rainbow Six Siege.
I had my 'wand' aggressively pointed at the ground, as if there was a downed enemy there. "I'm going to kill you Harry Potter..." I whispered, trying to mimic the exact same pose from Voldemort's monologue in the Goblet of Fire movie. For some reason I was obsessed with performing that over and over again, even after doing so in front of my drama class two years prior.
Not long soon after, I was sitting at my desk, writing down properties for the spell that I really hoped was original. I called it the Exidius, derived from "exidium", which meant "havoc" in Latin. I wanted the spell's properties to be similar to that of the Wabbajack from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, meaning the effects of the spell were unpredictable.
For example, were you to cast Exidius during a fight which I didn't exactly recommend, you could transfigure your enemy into a chicken, or even a giant whale. Hell, maybe even a pencil to signify my undying hatred for writing essays in English class. I swear, typing was so much easier, and the words looked much better, too.
After a bit of time, I stopped what I was doing and pulled out my phone, smiling at my friends' posts on the various social media apps I had installed. At the sound and banner of a Snapchat notification, I checked the messages that were sent to me, and my eyes stared a bit too long at the sender's name.
Hermione Jean Granger
That looked...pretty strange, to say the least. Nowhere, could I recall, was I friends with anyone named after a Harry Potter character on Snapchat. Out of curiosity, I tapped it, wanting to see who it was that had suddenly shown up in my friends list.
Hello?, was what I saw on my screen. I was about to ask who it was I was speaking to, when the the BitMoji avatar (which looked very similar to Emma Watson) popped up, indicating that the person on the other side of the conversation was currently typing, causing me to delete my question and wait for whatever it was that they had to say.
Is anyone there?, was what I received. I immediately moved my thumbs to write out my response.
Who the hell names themselves after a Harry Potter character on Snapchat? I asked, then hit 'send'. I didn't get a response until about five minutes later, only to be asked just how I knew about Harry Potter.
I immediately facepalmed. Have you not even seen, read, or heard of the Harry Potter series? As I was about to send the message, I received another one, but not from this so-called 'Hermione Granger'. Nope, this new one seems to have come from an Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. "Not another one," I muttered to myself. With a resigned sigh, I opened the notification, only for my face to take on a confused expression at the message I had been sent.
I'm very sorry to have to do this to you. I can hope you can eventually forgive me, but alas, I simply can't take any chances of you refusing.
What? What in the Hell could that have meant? What was going on here? Why were these people contacting me?
That was when the bullshit struck.
Everything that ran on electricity in my room, from my lights to my computer, started flickering on and off, before suddenly short-circuiting and then shutting off. I immediately turned on the flashlight on my phone in a panic, wondering what could have caused such an event. A few seconds passed before I heard the sound of something rattling, and I shone the light towards the source of the noise, which revealed that one of the light bulbs had begun shaking. A quick glance around the room confirmed that the other lights, along with my computer, were shaking as well. Thoroughly creeped out, I began to try to exit my room, desperate to get away from the increasing danger.
No such luck.
The door handle was red hot, almost as if it just come out of a blacksmith forge. I could also see that it was starting to turn yellow, as well. I made for the door leading to my shared bathroom with my cousin, but it, too, was superheated. I then ran for my windows with the hope of jumping out, but I couldn't get either one to budge open, and yet they were unlocked.
That was the moment when the unthinkable happened.
All of a sudden the windows, the light bulbs, and even my computer broke open, and out them shot out a myriad of colors towards me. I instinctively looked away with my arms covering my face, but to my shock, it seemed that the colors were actually moving around me.
Only then I realized that something else was at play here, as all the lights started to swirl around me with increasing speed, until I could no longer see the individual colors, only a cylinder of white. Against my better judgement, I reached out a hand to touch the edge of the "tube" surrounding me, but although the light was visibly displaced, I felt nothing. I reached out with my other hand, wanting to see if I would meet resistance.
I did meet it, just not in the way I expected.
Two very large hands grabbed hold my wrists, then yanked me forward. My eyes widened at the force, and I yelped as I hit the ground. I stayed there for a second to recover my thoughts and try to figure out what had just happened, but I saw the sudden change in my surroundings, and I immediately stood up in alarm.
I had to do a double take at what I was looking at.
I was met with a small crowd, but most notably, I could make out the faces of Gary Oldman, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, and Michael Gambon staring at me in shock. I blinked, giving myself a second to recover, then quickly stepped back in shock. I quickly looked around to see my surroundings. Okay, I was in a foreign area, with people I didn't know (not in person, at least). In my 'all-rational' train-of-thought, I concluded that there was no way they could have been responsible for whatever happened not even a minute ago.
'Unless...' I thought to myself, but I quickly shook the thought away as soon as it popped up. No, there no way that one of my secret fantasies had just come true. This is the kind of thing I should be writing about, not actually happening to me.
After calming down and assessing the situation, I cleared my throat and looked at the group of people staring me.
"So uh, ya'll mind telling me what the fuck just happened there?"
Silence was my response. The damn silence was beginning to grate on my nerves and I sure would like to figure out why I was no longer in my room, and how I could possibly go back.
I grit my teeth and held up my arms in defense. "Who are you, and where have you brought me?!" The people at the front of the crowd stepped back in alarm, but still none of them responded.
"Summoning ritual brought you here," said the voices of two males in the back. I looked over at the sound to see a familiar pair of twins.
'It's about damn time.'
"Well there's an answer," I said sarcastically, motioning over to them. "Thank you so much, Fred and George." I could only look on with an impassive face at the shock that appeared on their faces, and I looked over to the surprised faces of the others. I then looked over at the old man wearing the gray robes, who was slowly walking towards me. "I assume you're Dumbledore then?" I asked him. He nodded and held out his hand.
"I am he, indeed." I looked at the offered hand suspiciously before I tentatively shook it. "Forgive me, but I must ask, young man, how is it that you know who we are? I don't recall either myself or Ms. Granger ever giving you our names," the man replied.
I debated on whether or not I should tell him everything I knew. It would really give them the advantage and Voldemort could be taken out as soon as the end of the year.
"If you answer my questions on exactly how you brought me here and why, then maybe I'll consider answering you on that." I stepped back and looked around. "You and the twins said I was summoned here."
Dumbledore sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Yes, you were. I can hope you'll eventually forgive me for this, but I used a combination of dark and ancient magics in a ritual to call forth someone who had the knowledge of how to defeat Voldemort."
'Of all the fucking clichés.'
I rubbed my eyes. "So you're telling me, that you found and used a ritual to give you an advantage, and out of all the possible people who could have been summoned, it ended up being me: a random seventeen year-oldfrom the 21st Century. I don't even have magic." I noticed his alarmed look, but I continued. "Do you know of any way to send me back after all this is done?"
"...I'm sorry, but I could not figure out way of doing so."
MOTHER-
I looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, my tongue pushing on my inner cheek. What was I supposed to do now?
Lord, what the fuck just happened to me? While I wasn't a hardcore Catholic, my faith had been renewed over the years, as a result of research, so I looked to God for anything that was truly out of my control.
While my life wasn't as optimal as I wanted it to be, it was the life I was just living. My mother- oh God, my mother. What was she doing right now, frantically searching for and never being able to find me? After losing my brother to leukemia, there was a high chance she wouldn't be able to go on.
My friends. They'd be wondering on why I was no longer responding. They'd think that I actually committed suicide after that first attempt last August.
Oh no.
Hell, I was even in a damn musical! We open in two weeks damn it! How are they gonna go on without me? They're screwed with even just one person gone!
Well, fuck.
If I was to be stuck here indefinitely, in 19-fucking-95, then that meant that I was never going to be able to see anyone I knew again. I'd never get the chance to try and-
It dawned on me. I wasn't ever going to see anyone I knew again.
I fell to my knees and began to hyperventilate. My hands started to ball into fists, and quickly started drawing blood from how hard I was digging my nails into my palms.
No...
My entire being just wanted to scream in rage and break every single thing around me, but some reason I just couldn't. I tried to keep the rage and hurt down, but I just didn't care at this point.
Image after image flashed in my head, all of them memories over the course of ten years. All of them included people I would never see again. Faster and faster they would pop up, until everything stopped at one final image of my entire family.
I barely registered the nearby crack, along with a few yelps, but it didn't matter over the sheer hopelessness of it all.
I was alone now. Taken from my family and the only life I had never known.
"Young man, if you would please calm down!" cried a voice from somewhere in the room. It was then suddenly became aware of my surroundings again, and noticed that that the dining table had been broken in half.
I looked up at the group (Order of the Phoenix, now) with a befallen expression, and bowed deeply. "I'm...I'm sorry for the damage I did to your home, Mr. Black, and to everyone else who I may have potentially hurt." I looked up and saw the man who wore Gary Oldman's face walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder.
"It's alright, lad," he whispered. "It's alright. You've had a bunch of shit happen to you so fast." He stepped back and pulled out a stick (wand, actually), and pointed it at the table. "Reparo," he said.
I watched the table repair itself to its condition when I first arrived with a sense of awe and admiration. The feeling of despair were quickly replaced by those of slight joy. It finally dawned on me that I actually now had magic. I was a wizard, who could cast spells! I realized that one of my greatest fantasies had come true.
'But at the cost of losing everyone I had ever known in my life.'
I regained my depressed attitude nearly as quickly as it went away. I looked back to Sirius, who held out his hand. He gave me a grin. "After that whole mess, it'd be nice if we got a name out of you," he said, speaking up from earlier.
It didn't take me long to give him one. I should have given him my name, but to be honest, I didn't want to be known as I was before. This was my chance at a new identity, and I wasn't going to let it go to waste. Part of me wanted to use the name Cygus Lorman, the pseudonym I used for almost everything involving the Internet. After all, it was best 'Harry Potter-sounding' name I could think of. But no, I wanted to use a name that would serve as a reminder and an homage to the life I had once lived.
With a deep breath, I accepted and firmly shook the offered hand. "My name is Michael MacGyver." I looked behind him at the crowd. "Pleased to meet all of you, I guess."
Stay tuned!