Back to the Marauders: Starlight-Mist
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
Hello Readers!
I started this story back in 2014, and despite being a brand new fanfiction writer, I thought it would be an amazing idea to publish a time-travel story. Looking back on this decision, I have many regrets, as the story quickly blew up and I found things getting out of hand. As I struggled to regain control, I realized a few really important things:
1) I disliked the writing style I had started writing in. Not only was the story written in first person, but the formatting was very inconsistent. Thus started many series of edits, reformatting the story, rewriting entire sections, and transitioning the narration from first-person to third-person. I am still in the process of transitioning the narration of this story (Note as of June 2019).
2) Because I dove into writing this story with very little planning, there are some major inconsistencies that I must address. Firstly, in the original books, Oliver Wood is born sometime around 1975, but in this story he is born in July 1978; this inconsistency was caused because I wanted to write in his mother as a character and did not consider his canon birthday. Secondly, I accidentally hired Trelawney too early, so she is the Divination teacher in 1977; this inconsistency was caused because I wanted to include a prophecy and foolishly decided to make Trelawney the deliverer of the prophecy.
3) I had to find a way to resolve the story, filling in any plot holes and explaining everything, including a prophecy. I'll tell you, readers, prophecies are rarely good signs. My biggest mistake was publishing a story without a general idea of where I wanted to go. All I knew was that I wanted it to be long, which explains why the first handful of chapters are so slow: one day every two chapters.
Since its publication in 2014, I have seriously grown as a writer. Thank you to everyone who has stayed with me on this journey to fix this story, and to those who still read and review. Your support means the world to me, and I hope to finish this story someday.
Starlight Mist
September 7, 1999
"I loathe to admit it, Ron, but that new Slytherin Keeper is pretty bloody good. Rumor has it that he spent his entire summer training with the Seeker for the Chudley Cannons."
"If Dorian trained with Gideon Gudgeon then my last name isn't Weasley," Ron snorted skeptically, interrupting Harry. "And besides, when are you one to listen to rumors?"
"As captain of the Gryffindor team, it's my job to keep up to date on the other teams, and that means listening to rumors and deciding whether to give them credence or not. Personally, I don't think that Dorian trained with Gudgeon, but that doesn't change how good he is."
While Harry and Ron continued conversing, Hermione seated herself and reviewed her homework again, her quill hovering above the parchment as she searched for any issues that she might have missed. No matter how many times Harry and Ron tried to explain Quidditch to her, Hermione never understood the appeal of needlessly endangering oneself by flying around on a charmed twig; besides, the war had been plenty enough danger for her.
Hermione was interrupted from her thoughts when the door to the Potions classroom swung open and Draco Malfoy strode through, closely followed by his lackeys. As he swaggered past past her desk, Malfoy knocked her stack of books to the ground, sneering at her. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. After the war, Draco had served some time in Azkaban, then was released on parole to continue his education and rebuild his life. While he had changed greatly from the brat he once was, no longer using blood slurs, he continued to be a general nuisance.
Meeting his challenging gaze, Hermione extended her hand over the book as she reached into her magical reserves and scooped up the soft silver of her magic. Breathing deeply, she channeled it through her body. Slowly, a misty hand materialized, trembling as it picked her book up off the ground and set it on her desk. Unable to create a corporeal hand for too long, the brunette witch let go of her magic, and the hand promptly dissipated.
"Still pathetically weak, but much improved," Draco noted, tilting his head at her with a look of grudging approval. Hermione allowed herself a small smile, for as much as she despised Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, his compliment meant a lot to her.
"You're getting stronger," Ron noted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Hermione turned her head and was met with a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. The nose thing was a joke between the two of them, an action that Ron had picked up after Hermione had shown him a few soap operas in the first few months of their relationship.
"I still don't get why you're able to tap," Harry commented from her other side.
Her new skill, a relative of wandless magic known as "tapping," had been a subject of many conversations between the trio. Aptly named after the action of tapping into one's magical reserves, "tapping" was a form of magic only used by purebloods due to the need for large quantities of pure magic. As a child from two parents without any magical reserves, Hermione shouldn't have been able to tap; the most she should've been able to do was use wandless magic. Additionally, her magical reserves should've been smaller than a halfblood's reserves - small enough that she shouldn't have even been able to sense her magic flowing through her.
However, for some reason that she still had not figured out, Hermione's magical reserves were overflowing and after the war, she constantly felt a gigantic swirling mass of her magic. When she really focused, it almost seemed as though she was simply a glass container for the magic, and that it was splashing against her walls in an attempt to escape. It was this need to release this magic that had resulted in her first experience with tapping.
Coincidentally, this tapped outburst had happened in front of Malfoy, and it was his sputters of "That's not possible!" and "You shouldn't be able to tap!" that had clued her into the fact that it hadn't been wandless magic that she had just performed. After this realization, Hermione had immediately set to researching tapping. Much to her surprise, nowhere in history was it even implied that half bloods or muggleborns could tap.
Before Hermione could respond to Harry, the door flew open and Snape glided through the door, his robes billowing out behind him. His nose wrinkled in distaste, he snapped, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter. After seven years of being in my class, I expect you to at least have a quill on your desk. Today, we will be brewing the Visnox Potion, discovered in 1963."
Hermione picked up her quill and prepared to scribble down the list of ingredients that was sure to follow, but just as Snape opened his mouth to announce the first ingredient, a wave of pain shot through her stomach and through the rest of her being. Pins and needles coursed through her body as the feeling ran down her arms and to her fingertips. She felt as if her brain was swirling inside her skull, and as the nauseous feeling intensified, Hermione let out a pained whimper. As the feeling finally receded, she opened her eyes to find the entire class staring at her. Her quill was now snapped in half, the ink leaking all over her hands and onto her empty sheet of parchment paper.
"Miss Granger, is there something that you would like to share with the class?" Snape asked coolly, eyeing her with unimpressed eyes as he turned away from the board.
She shook her head and Snape turned back to the board. As Hermione reached down to her bag to extract a new quill, the feeling returned again. Letting out a startled cry, she tumbled out of her chair. The back of her neck began pulsing and her skin began to burn with a feverish heat, causing her stomach to curl. When the burning finally disappeared, leaving her skin eerily cold, she found that the class was staring at her yet again. This time, there was no laughter, and the feeling of nausea started to pervade her entire being.
"Miss Granger, do you need to take a trip to the hospital wing?" Snape asked, his face betraying no emotion. Then again, what did she expect from the teacher that had somehow double-crossed Voldemort and survived? Of course he was a cold soul.
"I think I'll be alright," Hermione answered hesitantly as Harry and Ron helped her back to her seat, worry evident on their faces.
"Then do stop interrupting my class. Twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape snapped, pinning her under his strict gaze. Embarrassed, Hermione bowed her head and waited for Snape to continue, accepting a replacement quill from Harry. However, the moment their greasy-haired professor turned back to the board, the pain returned and worse than the previous two times.
She yelped loudly.
The classroom blurred and someone started yelling about the hospital wing, their voice unrecognizable as her head started pounding. Hermione curled up in an attempt to shelter herself as bright lights flashed behind her eyes and her heart raced so fast that she thought it might burst. Her lungs were on fire and she could feel her blood moving through her veins. As her limbs began spasming, the burning sensation that accompanied the first two times fled, and she felt empty, almost as if her blood was somewhere else and her soul was floating away. Her magic started swirling wildly, and she felt painfully weak. Hands latched onto her wrists and she felt herself drunkenly stumbling forward...or was it to the side...or was it through the floor?
A golden glow burst forth from around her, and the last thing she heard was someone screaming her name.
August 28, 1977
When Hermione opened her eyes, she immediately realized she was no longer in the potions classroom. Head spinning, she lay on the ground, staring up at a starry sky.
'What is going on?' she wondered to herself, slowly sitting up, clutching her head in an attempt to stop the nausea. Her confusion only intensified as she observed her surroundings, which appeared to be the dirt floor of the Forbidden Forest. 'It is impossible to apparate in Hogwarts grounds and there was no gut-hooking portkey feeling, so how did I get here? Also, why is the moon out?'
Suddenly, Hermione realized that something was wrong...there was absolutely no motion or sound. It was as if everything lay in hiding, in wait for something. Scrambling to her feet as a sudden stab of fear seized her, Hermione drew her wand. Her sharp caramel eyes immediately started scanning her surroundings for anything that looked out of place, and she quickly came to the terrifying realization that she was in the Forbidden Forest.
As her heart sped up, Hermione cast a Point Me spell and hurried back towards Hogwarts. Every once in a while, she thought that she heard the sound of a someone following her, but there was nothing there. Finally, Hermione reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Just as stepped onto the well-worn path back to Hogwarts, she heard a snarl from behind her. Whirling around, Hermione was met with a full-grown werewolf glaring down at her as saliva dripped from its teeth. Feral yellow eyes bored into Hermione's mind, and she realized that there had indeed been something wrong...it was the night of the full moon.
A scream choked itself in her throat as the hulking beast took a step towards her. She immediately took off for Hogwarts, her feet churning as the werewolf quickly gained on her. Panicked, Hermione cast a Patronus charm. Her otter skittered fearfully around her head, "I'm in the Forbidden Forest. A werewolf is chasing me. Help!"
With a flick of her wand, the otter pranced to her intended recipient, Dumbledore. It was only seconds after her otter had sped off that Hermione realized her mistake. Dumbledore was dead and Professor McGonagall was the Headmaster. Too scared to think up another plan and too fearful to try casting another Patronus, she kept running.
Just as she reached the steps, she stumbled and fell like the damsels she had read about in fairytales when she was younger. As she cursed her rotten luck and stumbled to her feet, a large mass slammed into her. Her head collided against the stone stops, and though her head was ringing, Hermione desperately tried to roll away from the werewolf. Scooped up by a monstrous paw, Hermione was thrown into the air. Landing hard on her back, she fought to stay conscious as the werewolf batted her wand out of her hand with its furry arm, snapping her wrist with a sharp crack. The werewolf quickly pinned her down, and as she struggled to free herself, she found herself in immense pain.
Before the werewolf could do her any further harm, a curse hit its chest and the muscled monster reared back, letting out a morose howl as another curse struck him across the face. Hermione watched in confusion as the werewolf was chased away. Wasn't it impossible to defend oneself against a werewolf by means of spells?
Someone told her to stay strong as they levitated her through the air, and Hermione stopped thinking and resigned herself to the sleep that begged to overtake her. The last thought that passed through her mind was that she was now a werewolf.
September 2, 1977
When the brunette witch woke up, the first thing that she noticed was that she was not alone and that two people were conversing loudly to her right. As she floated in and out of consciousness, she heard a few key words and phrases, including "was not Remus," "Gryffindor Head Girl Badge," and "Forbidden Forest."
It took a surprising amount of effort force her eyelids to open, and when they finally opened, Hermione's heart nearly stopped in surprise.
"Professor Dumbledore? Madam Pomfrey? But you two are both dead. Am I dead too?" she stammered as she tried to sit up, a sharp pain in her left arm causing her to wince as she pushed herself upright. Madam Pomfrey clucked at her as she poured the contents of a small green vial into a glass, then held it to her lips. Hermione reluctantly accepted the potion, which was both bitter and coarse, but cleared her vision and returned strength to her limbs. "Did I have a stroke in the Potions classroom or something?"
"That is a question that we don't know the answer to. I believe that the best question to start with would be what year it is right now, as it seems to us that you are not from our time," Dumbledore stated, a familiar twinkle in his eyes as he sat down on the bed next to Hermione.
"September 7th, 1999," the brown-haired witch answered promptly.
Dumbledore inhaled deeply, "It seems that you have traveled twenty-two years back in time, as the current year is 1977. You were found on Hogwarts ground on the twenty-eighth of August and have been unconscious ever since; it is currently the second of September. Based on your robes, I think it is safe to assume that you are a student of Hogwarts during your time. Until we find a way to send you back to your original time, it would be best for you to join Hogwarts for the year, Miss..." Dumbledore trailed off, gesturing to her to finish her sentence.
"Granger," Hermione answered, trying to process the unimaginable.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. To prevent any issues, I think it would be wise for you to change your name and appearance. Would you like to choose your new name, or would you like us to give you one?"
Although she knew that Dumbledore was simply thinking to preserve her identity as a time traveler, she couldn't help but feel that he was giving her a chance to be a different person and lead a different life. Hermione gnawed on her bottom lip as she thought of the name she wanted to adopt...the new personality that she would be.
"Liesel Karma Ellen."
"Miss Ellen, you have just transferred from the American private school Swish 'n Flick and were sorted into Gryffindor in my office. Your father is a muggle and your mother is a lesser-known pure-blood, thus making you a half-blood. I ask that you keep the fact you come from the future a secret, for it could have dozens of unforeseen consequences on the future."
"An understandable worry," Hermione nodded.
"The next order of business is the fact that you are a lycan now, as Madam Pomfrey was able to heal your bite wound. During full moons, you will be transforming in the Shrieking Shack with your fellow Gryffindor and lycan Remus Lupin. Do you have any questions?"
Hermione looked down at her empty holster, then queried, "Do you know where my wand is? I'm afraid that I lost it when...attempting to fight the werewolf."
Dumbledore drew her wand from his pocket, and accepting her well-worn wood from the Headmaster, Hermione proceeded to cast a glamour. A minute later, she had completely changed her facial structure, raising her cheekbones, shrinking her nose, and widening her jawbone. She further tanned her skin and transformed her untamable brown hair into a straight deep black with hints of brown; her eyes, she left the same.
After she tucked her wand back into her battered thigh holster, Madam Pomfrey entered the room carrying a pile of clothes. Hermione nodded in gratitude, then waited for the Headmaster and friendly matron to exit before putting her head in her hands. Her mind was whirling in shock as the fact that she had traveled to the past finally sunk in.
Tears welled up in her eyes as her gaze drifted to her left hand, which was adorned with a silver ring that had a golden feather engraved in it. The ring had been a gift from Harry and Ron, bought after the war at a magical auction. The ring served as a constant reminder of their friendship and the fact that she was part of the Order of the Phoenix.
Sliding off of the bed and stripping out of her old uniform, Hermione dressed herself in a white button-up, house tie, v-neck jumper, pleated skirt, and pair of black shoes. Straightening her posture, Hermione took in a deep breath and looked herself in the mirror.
Her eyes stared back from a completely foreign face.
She was Hermione Jean Granger turned Liesel Karma Ellen, and damned if she didn't take this chance to lead the life she had started and never completed - the life of a normal student with a normal life and normal friends.
XxxX
"Gryffindor students, I would like to introduce our new American exchange student. Miss Liesel Ellen will be joining the seventh-years, and I trust that you all will be welcoming and helpful to her, should she have any questions."
There was a light round of applause as Hermione took her seat.
"Welcome to Gryffindor, the table for the noble, courageous, and brave. I am-"
"-a terrible influence and prat," finished a red haired woman with vibrant green eyes. It was with a start that Hermione realized that they were Harry's eyes, and that the woman was his mum, Lily Evans. Which meant...the other person was Harry's dad, James Potter.
"Must you always make me out to be the villain?" James groused, reaching a hand over towards her head in an attempt to wildly muss the girl's hair.
Lily sighed, batting James' hand away from her signature locks as she introduced herself, "Head Girl, Lily Evans at your service. This prat is James Potter, Head Boy, though I can't imagine how he received the position. May I call you Liesel?"
"Nice to meet you, Lily. Yes, you may call me Liesel," Hermione answered as she helped herself to some breakfast. The spread of food was similar to the Hogwarts breakfasts she had consumed in the future, which was a familiar comfort.
"Liesel, if you don't mind me asking, how come you already have a British accent when you are an American exchange student? I assume there is quite a large disparity between accents, is there not?" James asked as he speared a slice of sausage.
"My parents are British and we talked a lot while I was in America," Hermione answered, trying not to wince when she realized how lame the lie sounded; she quickly stuffed a spoonful of porridge into her mouth to prevent further questions. Swallowing the hot food, she turned to her left, where she saw Remus engrossed in a book. Her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a surprisingly familiar sight, despite his lack of scars.
"Hogwarts: A History?" Hermione asked, surprised at his reading choice.
Remus looked up, meeting her chocolate eyes as he answered simply, "Yes. Have you read it before? It is quite a good book."
Hermione nodded vigorously, "It is my favorite book."
"So that explains why you weren't so shocked about Hogwarts," Lily spoke as realization dawned on her. "Most of our first years have hard time getting used to Hogwarts in all its grandeur, but you seemed right at home when Dumbledore introduced you. Well, you better eat quickly because our next class is Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins."
"Do you have any idea what we are going to be doing today?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing much...just a little dueling."