Cast Aside Chapter 1, a harry potter fanfic

"Look, buddy, pal, amigo, bud, friend, muchacho, man," I grabbed his shoulder. "It's great and all, truly amazing in all honesty. I am overcome with awe on your part. If secondhand heroism was a thing, I would surely feel it just by standing and breathing by you." I looked into his eyes. "But as astounding as this all is, as phenomenally wonderful as it is, I just can't seem to understand why I should give a fuck. At all. Can you shine some light on that for me?"

He splutters in his own sense of disbelief. The Gryffindor looks at me, probably wondering what is wrong with me. But I don't really care. Truth is, you stop caring about things when they don't really affect you. Your person, that is. Because this wasn't me. Going back 20 years in the past does that to you, unfortunately. Anyway, that wasn't really my choice, per se. But it happened. Or, well, didn't? I don't work in the Department of Mysteries, give me a break.

"T-they were all over there, standing by her, and it didn't look good. She wasn't looking too good. Look, if anyone happens to come by, can you cover for me? They started first, and all that. You know."

He cast a fearful glance at me.

"You know?"

I sighed. "Sure. Hey, what is your name, by the way? You never told me," I reminded him.

"Oh, sorry. James Potter," He stuck out a hand to introduce himself. "Surely you've heard of us, right? If you haven't, you will." He grinned. "Who are you, then? You're new, aren't you? The professors don't know you too well, so your word should work. Might work." He huffed as he began spelling the unconscious Slytherins out of and away from the main walkway of the corridor.

"Yeah, uh, you're a valiant man. Only fight in self-defence. 100% bona-fide champ," I replied as I levitated one of the particularly lankier corpses with him. "Speaking of, can I get your autograph? I'm a little short on Butterbeer this week and it's REALLY getting to me." I enunciated profusely. James looked puzzled. One of the dumb Slytherins groaned behind him. We both ignored it. Students started filling the hallways at odd intervals. Class was almost over. The pair of us got weird looks. "You know, because I can sell it to someone or frame it on my bedpost back at the Tower and stare dreamily a--"

"Mr. Potter?" A voice inquired loudly behind me.

"Yes?" James and I sounded off simultaneously. He glanced at me. Dumbledore also glanced at me. His was more of a questioning look. A look that asked, "Why are there multiple unconscious Slytherins in my corridor?"

James seemed a little put-out. "Well, uh, you see, uh-"

"The big Slytherin started it all with his buddies over there. James, Gryffindor's ever courageous hero, stepped up to the plate and gave us four SMASHING home runs!" I gestured to the pile of bodies, some of which still had pretty bad nose-bleeds. Not the best image. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. James made some sort of noise in his throat.

"Okay, come on, you get the picture, right? Or, I'm sorry, here, I can relate to you. Ah..."

I stamped my feet, trying to recall the name. "Oh, yes, the telegram. That was your time, right? Anyway, they came around harassing this redhead in our House. See, I try to promote House-unity and the solidified front and all that, but making someone cry over what flows through their veins is really not a good way to meet me halfway, you know?"

"So, like I said, and here's where we circle back to the beginning, almost like I'm restating my thesis. Actually, there's a thought. When I go to turn in my essays at the end of classes, I can usually see the student's before mine. Most of the time, they're great. Sometimes, however, they're not, and so I'd like to hereby request that you add in an English course."

The hallways were feeling cramped, now. Classes were over and revolving to the next period. I felt like I had to wrap this up, now. "You might think that's in jest, but I am seriously genuine. Their writing is atrocious. Back to uh, Exhibit A," I wave an arm to the now-shifting pile. "James comes over and says, 'Hey, back off'. The Slytherins refuse and it gets heated, so they throw some curses his way, and it went from there." I heaved in a breath from my long-winded explanation. I gotta get in shape. That, or became an orator.

Dumbledore sat impassively. After a moment (a long moment, might I add) he nodded. "Mm-hmm," He sounded skeptical. "Mr. Potter, can you confirm this is as it happened?"

Mr. Potter looked quite askance. He was at a loss for words. He stuttered, trying to get back on track. "Well, uh, yeah, uh, yeah that was how it was," He added helpfully. "Sir." He amended.

Professor Dumbledore regarded us thoughtfully. "Alright. Well, my boy, I don't see a reason not to believe you. I'll ask these fine gents when they recover. Still, I must assign you a detention," He said gravely.

James' face fell slightly after that, but he kept up his composure. "Thank you, sir," He says.

Dumbledore nodded. "For them, I'd say it would be a mite worse. But, I suppose we shall see."

He strides off towards them, at which time James and I quickly and gracefully make our leave. I hear "Rennervate!" and groaning, and I hurry that much more.

I get clapped on the back heartily with a muttered, "Thanks!" and we both split up to go our own separate ways. And that was how I met my parents.

Living in the 70's is really something. Well, being that it is the Wizarding World, none of it changed that much. The Muggle world would hopefully be exciting to witness, but the Wizarding World was just as backwards as it ever was. That would probably never change, unless the 70's had out-spoken bushy-haired buck-teeth Muggleborns. Oh, Hermione. If only you were here. Shrugging my saddened thoughts aside, I mustered faith in myself and my resolve, and I shook myself, willing it into my bones. "I will do this. I can do this. I can do this. I... can do this! I can do this!" I shouted into the bathroom mirror.

The stall behind me opened. I met eyes with a Puff. "Having some issues there, mate?" He asked awkwardly.

"It's uh, hard to push past the fabric that is our ethnostate and brush aside the prejudice of society. I worry sometimes that I will never make it in life. It really sucks." I summarized tightly.

He looked down. "Uh, yeah. Gotta say, I wasn't expecting this was how my day was gonna go," The Puff remarks.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm sure it'll be alright, man." He half-heartedly tries to reassure my broken spirit. "What got you this way? Why are you in such a bind? Hey, aren't you the new kid?"

His voice echoes off the empty stalls. "Uh, yeah, that's me. But to answer you, History of Magic is hard to get through. Reading about the fiftieth Goblin rebellion in about as many minutes is not good for my mental health," I cringed slightly. The bathroom began to smell a little. It made me uncomfortable. The jocky Hufflepuff didn't seem to care.

"They teach us a lot about that sort of thing in Hufflepuff, mate," He informs me succinctly.

"Oh yeah? They teach you about Goblin rebellions in Hufflepuff? What the hell? Favoritism much?"

"No, Merlin," He huffed. "The mirror thing. Let me be the one to tell you, do not let anxiety rule you. You are the master of your body. You tell yourself what to do, not your brain or your heart. Apart from when to eat or sleep or all that. You hear me? You need to quell your useless emotion before it quells you!"

Well, I mean...

"A-alright."

He bounds out of the stall and gets in my face, all thoughts of excretion forgotten and out the window. "No, it isn't alright. That is a LOAD OF BOLLOCKS! That is SHITE! It is not 'alright'. It is not 'okay'. Now, you are going to look at me in the eye and you are going to tell me that it is not okay!" He yells in my face.

"It is not okay." I try to placate the rapidly-turning out of control Puff.

"It is not okay!"

"It is not okay."

"I am the master of my body!"

"I am the master of my body."

"It is not okay!"

"I rule my emotions, my emotions do not rule me!"

"It is NOT alright!"

Footsteps I hadn't noticed before our pissing contest made themselves known. To make matters worse, it was a boy from my House. "Oi, what in the absolute fuck are you lads doing in here?"

You might ask why I'm doing these things or why I, Harry Potter, am in the 1970s. You might wonder why I was talking to James Potter and rescuing my mother from some Slytherins. The truth of the matter is, I didn't really have a choice. One day, my Godfather pulled me aside from a really good match of chess and told me that my life was effectively over. That he knew I had to be the one. That I could nip it in the bud before it even began. That he was surprised it hadn't happened already.

"Harry," Sirius tried. "I went to Azkaban for twelve years. The world changed, a lot. Too much. Enough for an idiot like me to realize things need to change. Dumbledore and the Order know that, too. And they know you're the one to do it." He told me. "But they lack the conviction to do what's necessary. I wish I didn't have to do this. But the way I see it, we're in too deep, Harry. There's no point in trying now. You need to end it before it begins. Harry, do you know what this means? Do you?"

I nodded shakily. "Y-yes. But, what about my friends? The Order? My family? You?"

Sirius sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I know you'll come to understand. I really am sorry. But, like one of those things you get from the hospital..." He mimicked ripping off a Band-aid. "A band-aid, Sirius."

He laughed. "Yes, exactly, Harry. Such a young, nimble mind. Oh, you'll do great. Yes, it'll be better if you just rip it off. Anyway," He handed me a shimmering Portkey that I'd never seen before. "Don't change the past too much. Don't be an idiot. Kill Voldemort. And for Merlin's sake, DON'T--"

And I fell into black and nothingness.

That was my story of how I time-traveled. It wasn't some huge mess, some government sanctioned trip. It wasn't a super top-secret task from Dumbledore. Just Sirius pretty much throwing me into the past. With almost nothing to prepare me beforehand. Pretty Gryffindor of him, I must say. Commendable, truly. But that was how I went to the past, saved my mother, aided and abetted my father, and made a friend. Oh, and how I got sorted and everything. I went and told Dumbledore everything. He privately sorted it all out, as I'd entered within the year, so that was literal and figurative. He handed me the Sorting Hat whilst I was sat across from him in his office, and within about a minute, I was once again in Gryffindor House. At least it wasn't some big fiasco. He gave me the Gryffindor timetable and told my House that there was a new arrival, yadda yadda yadda, and I was in. Oh, and he told me about my new professors. Most of which I forgot their names. Except for McGonagall, Slughorn, and Hagrid. Those stayed the same. Looking at things lightly, it wasn't too bad. At least there were some people I was familiar with. I lost my friends, but I could make some new ones. Things would be okay. That is, until I had to go bite the bullet and face Voldemort. Oh, well. For now, I could prepare.

After taking some Veritaserum and also having him sift through my memories, Dumbledore gave me the Dumbledore seal of approval and helped me out, big time. He could be a lot of things, but Dumbledore was always there for you. He set me up with another name. Harry... Harry Caldwell. Because when was the last time you heard of a Caldwell? Unfortunately, the 1970s were a little worse, if not the same as the 90s, so names meant everything. To others, I would be some unheard-of Mudblood Muggleborn. To others in my time, I had the Potter name and fortune. For now, I had nothing. No vault, no family, nothing.

Dumbledore promised to sort all of that out when the time came. He said to not worry about it, that it would be a non-issue. "All smooth sailing, Harry," He told me cheerfully.

It was only something to worry about when I had to worry about it. Now, the only things I had to worry about were classes and remembering my professors' names. A daunting task, to be sure.

My first class was with that Puff from before. I never actually got his name.

"Good morning, class," Our Defence professor greeted. "Good morning, Professor Sautle." My classmates harmonized. He smiled in response. "The start of a new week, the ever so dreaded Monday..."

Some groans erupted from the class. "Oh, I know, I know," Sautle said empathetically. "Every weekend, I sit here marking your papers and then I have to face all of you again after the fact."

It seems he was a bit of a comedian on the side. Didn't fail, though. Some faint laughter could be heard. "Since some of you didn't do so well on last week's practical exam on beetles, we'll just have to go over it again," He hurried to address the class before they got uptight.

"You don't have perspective. If you can't face and take care of a simple beetle, what makes you think you can take care of anything bigger? It's all logical." He explained rapidly. I was willing to give it a shot. It was a sound idea.

Sautle got up from his desk and walked down the aisle. Down the aisle towards me. "Before we get to today's lesson, class, I'd like to give a warm welcome to our new student, Mr. Caldwell," The man egged me on. "Come on, come on, up we go." He encouraged. "It's just your classmates." I'd forgotten I wasn't facing half of Slytherin. Easing up, I waved to the somewhat bored class. "Er, hello. I'm Harry Caldwell. Fourth Year in Gryffindor. I'm sure it'll be a right good time," I attempted. I really had to try out that orating thing.

"Does anyone have any questions for Mr. Caldwell here?" Sautle asked. One hand rose, then another. Oh, I recognized that one. It was my father. James raised his hand somewhat hesitantly. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" I almost answered back in habit.

James leaned back in his seat. "Where are you from?"

That was easy. "Surrey." I replied with no difficulty. A few of the more magical students looked unsure. "Near London." I specified. I mean, wow. You had to have almost no contact with the real world to know, or not know rather, that Surrey existed.

Sautle pointed to the other hand. "Yes, Mr. Macmillan?" Ooh, the Puff was a Macmillan. Interesting.

"Yeah, uh, did you get over that thing?" He asked bluntly.

"Yeah."

Silence and a heavy awkward tone permeated the classroom. I cleared my throat to try and relieve it.

"Yeah, History of Magic sucks a little less now. Thanks." He shrugged it off.

A third, girlish hand thrust into the hair.

"Yes, Ms. Evans?"

"Actually, I have two if you don't mind," She blushed a little, her face matching her hair for a couple seconds. "Are you alright?" She asked, concerned. I set her at ease. "Oh, yeah. James caught most of it. I just helped him out, really. What else did you want to know?" I blinked.

She smiled. "Well, I'm glad to know you came out alright. Ah, do you like Hogwarts so far? How did it compare to your other school?"

Other school? Must be some Dumbledore thing. Improv time!

"I'm liking it so far, apart from that one thing," I said honestly. "I guess all schools are like that. But apart from that, it is pretty great. My older school was a little worse. Oh, and smaller. It's weird adjusting to a bigger place, but I'm making out okay."

Lily nodded. "Good to know. Hogwarts is great. You'll fit in, I just know it."

The other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs agreed amiably.

Sautle let me sit back down and got the class settled. "Now that we're done torturing the new student, let's begin with our beetles. Hop to! We don't have all day. That took lots of time as it is. Now, inter-house pairs, just like we've been doing. Okay? Okay. Pair up!"

The Puff basically ran over to me in his haste. "Gerry Macmillan," He outstretched his hand to me. I shook it.

"Glad to meet ya," I said truthfully. Our screaming match did help. Now, I could go into that horrible classroom and fall asleep so much EASIER! I told the giant Puff as much and he laughed. "We're gonna get on great, Caldwell. I just know it."

"Alright, already. Can we do the beetle thing? Why is it a beetle though? Aren't you guys almost a month into the school year?" I questioned.

He sat beside me and began to Transfigure something from his pocket into a red beetle. "It's like he said. If we can't figure out a beetle, we can't figure out a Dementor or a vampire or some other thing. You might think it's all a load, but he's alright. Better than our professor last year. He was bad, through and through. The beetle thing works."

At my expression, he raised his wand. "I'm serious. Watch." The beetle was warded away with loads of water, followed by a spider, then a rat, then all the way up to a mini-Boggart which he didn't really pull off. Had to be the real thing, I guess. Does it look like I regularly conjure Boggarts? No.

He dispelled it before anyone took notice. "Not really supposed to do that sort of thing, we're just sticking with the beetle for today. But you get the idea, right?"

I scoffed. "Yes, I get the idea."

I must've sounded a little skeptical of it all, still. After my response he shook his head. "You just wait. You just wait."

Defence class let out and my first class actually ended up being the last for today. That whole scuffle with the Slytherins ate up the majority of my lunch period, so I reckoned I'd just have to sneak down to the kitchens later. Oh, well.

Actually, since Defence was the last class of the day, I could just go down now. Taking in a breath, I adjusted my path to the kitchens and headed on down.

It gave me a sense of comfort to know that some things would never change. Things such as tickling the pear, for instance. Funny how that works. I got into the kitchens, introduced myself to a couple earnest house-elves and had a proper meal decently fast. I didn't ask them to rush it for me, they were busy as it was. It was a shame Dobby wasn't there to see me. Sometimes, it was easy to forget I was in the past. It felt like I was home. Maybe because Hogwarts was my home. No. 4 Privet Drive was never my home. I refuse to call it anything even resembling that. The moment Sirius laid claim to me and contested Dumbledore, the moment adjustments were made. It was easy, all things considered. I didn't worry about it, and everything panned out. Finishing my chicken, I thanked the elves and left.

"-and we split off. Almost made Dumbledore speechless. I didn't know whether to laugh or say, 'Oh, no, you got it all wrong.' Almost made us look like fools. Shhh! Hide!"

I stepped out, going back to the tower, pretending I hadn't heard the fairly loud whispering and seen the four shadows lurking behind me out of the corner of my eye. That wasn't the only surprise the evening held. Halfway back to the Tower, a spell flew past me as I turned a corner. Looking back, gaping, I expected it to be some sort of bad joke from the Marauders. Apparently not, as the Slytherins from before stood (mostly) recovered, albeit one was missing. Guess they healed up quick. That, or James' spells weren't too strong. Maybe both? I ducked as another spell came my way. "I couldn't find Potter. Guess you'll have to do. Then, I can make him bleed," The idiot sneered. I pointed my wand towards them, not really sure what to fire back. I was a little afraid. I didn't know where the Gryffindors were, and I didn't want them caught in the crossfire.

A figure stepped out behind them. It seems like my father had other plans. "There's no need to go looking for me, Rudy. I'm right here," He jeered. It worked. Rodolphus turned his attention to James, and the other two had their wands trained on me. "Expelliarmus!" I cried, firing directly at him. One of the other two deflected it away. "Diffindo!" He flung the Severing Charm at me."Immobolus!" I retorted.

Here, the other three Marauders made themselves known, and it became much more of a stalemate.

"Five to three, you're outnumbered." I called to them.

Rodolphus didn't respond, instead tightening his circle with the other two.

I broke the silence with a variety of spells.

"Reducto! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!" My Disarming spell hit true, and the Slytherin facing me became defenceless as I quickly Stupefied him.

Rodolphus and his buddy started to sweat. "Hey, uh, James, you wanna make sure you use something so they can't come get us the second they wake up in the Hospital Wing?" I meekly suggested as I just barely dodged a curse of some sort.

"Yeah, alright," He yelled back. Remus, Sirius, and Peter distracted the other Slytherin as James handled Rodolphus and I took care of his friend. Now, it was down to Rodolphus, and he knew it. He moved his wand in a strange manner, and mumbled something under his breath.

"Stop this at once," Professor Dumbledore commanded, shocking the daylights out of me as he stepped forward. "There is no magic in the halls. We know this, don't we? What year are you all, now?" He looked at the fallen Slytherin with a little distaste. "Rennervate!" He awakened the boy. "Now, it will be a month of detention for you all."

"But he-"

Even I had to join in the protest.

"But Rodolphus-"

Dumbledore silenced us. "Be silent. Twice in one day. I would have hoped you all could've stayed away from each other and left well enough alone, as it were. Sadly, I suppose that isn't the case. A month of detention. No magic in the halls. Now, if you break a glass or spill ink all over your notes, I can understand, but this?" He sucked in a heavy breath.

"Return to your Houses at once. Don't make me escort you."

I joined my father and his friends on their way back. The good night I was having had ended in an instant. "Bloody unfair, that is," Sirius complained quietly, trying not to invoke Dumbledore's ire as we moved further away.

"Rules are rules, I guess," I said. He looked over at me angrily. "Aren't you the new bloke? Cald?"

"Caldwell."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well,-"

James butted in. "Yeah, well, nothing. Caldwell here saved my arse earlier. He's good enough for me. Besides, Dumbledore was gonna get us for something sooner or later. You know how he is."

Sirius harrumphed. "Yeah, you're right about that," He laid it to rest. We continued walking. "Tell us about you, Caldwell." Sirius said.

"Well, I wasn't actually born in the city. I was more countryside, so it was a little hard breaking it to my parents. At least, that's what they told me. I had bad memory as a kid growing up. But I remember the day I found out I was magical. I wanted this teacup off the counter. Only I couldn't reach it, see? So, I tried to reach up and reach up until I could almost touch it. And then, I was able to grab it. Turns out, I actually pulled it towards me from the counter magically. Pretty neat. Anyway, after a couple years, we moved into Surrey, and I transferred into Hogwarts from my other school," I lied on the spot. Hopefully, it would work. It had to.

Peter spoke up. "How was your old school?" He wondered. I thought to myself.

"The same, but smaller, honestly," I answered. "Everyone has their groups and their friends. If you aren't with them, you aren't making it. The teachers were okay. I mean, I know spells, right? So, I guess that worked out. We had some arseholes like them, too." Peter nodded respectfully.

We were almost to the Common Room.

"What about you guys?" I returned.

James was the first to respond. "I grew up magically with my Mum and Dad. I'm not going to tell you where, family secrets and all that, but I'm also near London," He replied. Not really much information, but it was better than nothing.

Remus picked up the slack. "I don't think we've met. I'm Remus Lupin," He offered his hand. We shook. "Hello, Remus, I'm Harry," I introduced myself. He smiled kindly. "I'm also somewhat non-magical. I'm a half-blood. Just so you know, we don't care about that sort of thing," He deigned to inform me.

"Good to know."

"James and I met in our first year, when..."

Having made it into my father's group, I decided to relax a little over the next few days. Classes were the same as they were in the 90's, for the most part. Save for Sautle, the DADA Professor. Some of the other Professors weren't bad, but I really did enjoy Defence. I was afraid I'd never get better at Potions. Maybe with a Professor that doesn't scold and insult you every time you take in a breath, I could finally make some progress. Stunning, I know.

James regaled his merry little group with the tale of our witty escape from Dumbledore the first time around at least three different times with differing embellishments each time. The first time, it was embarrassing. The third time, it was hilarious. I can see why Remus and Sirius talked about the Marauders so much, even so many years later. It was obviously the prime time of their life. And it looked it, too. Anything Fred and George put together would not hold a candle to the Marauders. But, then again, they did idolize them. For good reason, I suppose.

Dumbledore kept on radio silence as the term continued. I could only hope he'd reach out and give me instructions or some sort of help. He said he would, but it was something I thought about in those nights when I twisted and turned. It was unavoidable, even when everything was airtight and secure. What if? What if? What if? But none of it did me any good. Still, those thoughts persisted. I did my best to keep them out of mind and focused on my work and bettering myself.

I saw Gerry many times in Defence. Occasionally, a Ravenclaw or Slytherin joint class was thrown in, but it was usually us Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. And it made for a great atmosphere. Everyone got along and we breezed through the lessons. It was no wonder Defence was my favorite, especially with such company. Gerry firmly stuck by "the beetle thing" and nothing I said or did would sway him. It was honestly ludicrous. Ludicrous though it was, it did hold sense.

The troublesome Slytherins from before took the hint and stayed out of our way. I guess they didn't want an entire year of detention. Yeah, well, neither did we. Now, here we are, still with a week left. Fuck, I hate those bastards.

I said as much to Sirius as the two of us scrubbed the floors near Filch's. He smirked. "Yeah, well, gotta be more careful next time. They won't give it up, and neither will we. Trust me, I know them," He said.

James echoed his sentiments, as did Remus and Peter, though not to the same extent.

"Can't trust the Slytherins, Harry," James warned me. "They're nothing but trouble, they are. Can't go five seconds without getting your bits almost blown off."

Sad though it was, even in my own experience, James was right. A very small minority of Slytherins left me alone, but I tended to look upon them with lightly hinted disdain. Not that I should judge like that, but it really did put me on edge around a Slytherin.

Hogwarts was a lot more fun with my new friends. Not that Hermione or Ron weren't fun too, but this was like Ron times four. It was almost insane. Some of their pranks, I helped, but I wasn't much of a pranker.

"Nonsense," Sirius declared. "We'll fix you up, and you'll turn McGonagall's hair blue."

I laughed at the thought. "Now THAT is a prank. But when?"

We debated on the idea of actually turning her hair blue. How to do it? And how to not get caught? After all, we did have to work on that, seeing as how the last incident turned out. I left the formulating to the experts, because they'd obviously been doing it for a while, and were seasoned veterans in the delicacy that is pranking.

I was serious in that idea, though. McGonagall was always serious, 99% of the time. She needed to lighten up. If you couldn't learn how to laugh and enjoy yourself, what was the point? I had no idea how long it would take them to get everything and prepare for it, but I let them be.

This would be epic.