James wakes up and the first thing he's aware of is the smell of the ocean. He's being rocked gently, like a baby and the floor beneath him is rough and hard. He sits up, rubbing his eyes groggily, and glances around the room. It's small, dingy, and one thing's for certain - he's not in Hogwarts anymore.

"About time you woke up, sleepyhead." Sirius is there, staring at him, his silver eyes sparkling with mirth.

Sirius. Sirius must know what's going on. "Where - where am I?" James queries, blinking rapidly. "What's going on?"

Sirius looks at him oddly. "Did you hit your head when you drank all that booze?"

Oh shit.

"Oh, um, no," James lies, smiling. "I just, er, had a strange dream."

(More like he's in one right now.)

"Okay." Sirius still sounds dubious, but at least he's not staring anymore. James gets to his feet.

"Can you - can you get me some Hangover Potion?" he asks, rubbing his throbbing head. "My head's killing me."

The weird staring is back. "Are you sure that you didn't hit your head?"

Oh wait, he's supposed to not know about the Wizarding World.

"I'm sorry, I-" James breaks off as nausea rises like a tide within in. "Loo," he mutters, covering his mouth to forestall the vomit.

"Robbins is bathing in there - "

But James doesn't care, bolting to the nearest door and shoving it open. Someone yells, James covers his eyes, and stumbles blindly to the toilet - and heaves.

He can hear "Robbins" yelling loudly, "What the hell is wrong with you, Potter?! I'm stark naked -"

Once James has finished his business, he squeezes his eyes shut and shuffles back out of the room.

"Bloody hell," he breathes, feeling lightheaded. "That was traumatic."

And his vision goes black.


When James wakes up again, he's in a bed this time. "I like cats," he says stupidly.

"You what?"

It's Sirius again. James is pretty sure he's still in a different reality, and when he pushes himself up, it's confirmed.

"Let me give you a refresher, since you've appeared to lost your marbles," Sirius says. "You're on the R.M.S. Titanic."

Oh shit. He's heard tales of the Titanic, of its legendary sinking. He's heard the tragic love story of the couple - Rose and Jack? - and their separation, ending in his death.

And now he's living in it.

He's dead.


He spends a week in this reality, and somehow, the ship hasn't hit the iceberg yet. Which means he can experience being poor for the first time in his life.

But he has his best mates with him, especially Sirius. They enjoy raucous parties thrown on the lowest level of the ship, get splendidly drunk, and just have fun. It's the most fun he's ever had in his life.

He doesn't remember it, but sometime during the night he and Sirius wind up together on the same bed. This wouldn't normally be a cause for concern - except that they're naked.

Oops.


He avoids Sirius for another week after their accidental hook-up. It's rather hard, because they really have nowhere else to go, but he avoids his eyes, feeling awkward.

And then, Sirius corners him and goes straight to the point.

"I don't know about you, but that was the best night of my life," Sirius tells him, his eyes burning, "especially the end of it. And I don't regret it."

James's mouth is dry. "I-"

And then, he's cut off as a pair of lips slam onto his own, and it's dizzying and exhilarating and hot and heady and James is intoxicated.

More than ten shots of whiskey could make him.

And then James is ripped away from the warmth as the ship jolts, forcing his body to one side.

His heart thumps faster. The iceberg.

C'mon, he wills his brain, take me back to my reality. I don't want to die here-

And to his amazement, his brain complies.


When James wakes up, he's sweating and it's the middle of the night (a cursory glance at the window tells him that) and his sheets are clinging to his body.

James throws off his blankets, puts on his glasses and a t-shirt, and leaves his room, his mind spinning. What the hell happened?

He can remember bits and pieces of his dream - blood roaring in his ears, the sense of wildness, freeness, and a warm sensation on his lips. He remembers a pair of striking silver eyes, but he can't place them.

"Shit," he swears. "Buggering hell."

He goes to the kitchen, pours himself a glass of water, and sits, trying to put the fragments of his dream into one cohesive story.

But he can't remember.


Romance Awareness Month - At the age of sixteen (can be changed), everyone goes into another world (dream-world? Alt reality? etc) for two years/6 months/a week (you choose time-frame), hanging out with their soulmate.

Time is warped to make sure the two of you are (chosen age above) in this world. When the time is up, you're sent back into the real world, with fractured memories of what happened. These foggy memories make it hard to find them again.