1977
There was a chill in the air as the four Marauders stepped off the train, readying themselves for what would be their last year at Hogwarts. They wondered if it was normal to feel nostalgia for something that wasn't even over yet. It was a singular mindset amongst most of the seventh years who returned to finish off their education. The four friends—brothers, really—clambered into the same carriage. Unlike years prior, which were spent discussing possible pranks and mischief, there was a solemnity that had been cast. An end of an era would soon be over for them and of course, the mounting pressures of the wizarding world toward a blood purity war was amplifying. So, they did what they did best; made a few jokes and carried on. Hopeful is a word that could always be used to describe them.
Roguish, irresponsible, and reckless were others, at least according to Professor McGonagall.
James Potter sunk into a seat at the Gryffindor table. Despite his best efforts, the elusive Lily Evans still hadn't given him the time of day. It was all that he could do not to stare blankly at her from where she sat further up the table, closer to the front.
"Still mooning over Lily, I see." Remus Lupin commented with a wry smile.
James rolled his eyes and huffed. "I don't understand why she doesn't like me back. I mean, I'm likeable, right?"
Peter nodded, trying to be supportive.
"And I'm not bad looking—" he continued before Sirius cut him off.
"Are we really having this conversation again?" Sirius asked sarcastically. "Look mate, maybe you just need to accept—"
James was already getting up when he said, "I'm going to go talk to her."
"That's the dumbest idea you've had since yesterday." Remus remarked, pulling out his class schedule to compare with the others. Such banter continued when James returned, yet again having been shunned by Lily. The young witch didn't necessarily mean to disappoint the young Potter heir. She simply had a mental list of requirements any future partner had to meet. And while James did have intelligence and charm, he had succeeded in being unkind to one of her best friends, which was enough to deter her from him for now.
The first years were brought in and procedure was followed all the way through Dumbledore's beginning of term speech. Then the food appeared, and they all tucked into the delicacies they had missed all summer. The warm food and good, missed company had sent most students into a sleepy state. They were winding down and were all but ready to climb the stairs to their respective dormitories and turn in for the night.
Perhaps that is what they would have done, if nothing had happened in the next few minutes. They would have been halfway there already, yawning to themselves about class schedules and whatnot had there not been something that jarred each and every person present out of their stupor. It started out with screams of horror and disdain, before followed with silent gasps of disbelief.
For laying near the massive doors of the Great Hall appeared a girl no older than the oldest of students; unconscious and bleeding from several great wounds.
No one knew that it was Hermione Granger that had landed in Hogwarts, for she was not supposed to be born for another two years, and another twelve before she was due to step foot into the great castle.
She was a mystery.
And she was dying.