A Marauder's Cliche

Harry Potter Fanfiction Parody

Chapter One

There was a great void of nothingness. Just a blank black canvas behind eyes shut, and when I made an attempt to open them, it didn't work.

After what felt like an hour but was more like a minute, the senselessness ceased. My eyes opened wide, and what I saw made me wish they were closed again. Curiosity got the best of me as I breathed it all in. The room was spinning, and the black void was replaced with whirling blue lights. If I hadn't been so freaked out, I would have thought they were magnificent. But then came the feeling of my stomach dropping to my feet, and I cringed.

Just when I thought I might vomit, everything went still. Silence ensued, save for the sound of my heart beating hard against my ribcage. My eyes had shut again, this time of my own accord. When I opened them, it was all I could do not to let out a shriek.

It was like I was in an invisible bubble for just a moment. I could see through it. I was standing in front of a platform that I knew was only real in fiction. Platform 9¾. It was eerily quiet, but when the bubble popped, the sounds of bustling bodies and the famous scarlet train's whistle screeched.

I must be dreaming, I thought, backing up against a stone wall slowly. Oh crap. Oh crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

I reached into my pocket for my iPhone. I couldn't find it. Instead, I pulled out a golden pocket watch which ticked steadily in my palm. I groaned frantically. Who carries pocket watches anymore?

I searched the other pocket, only to discover I was carrying a small, brown leather coin bag and a long, thin wooden object. I could only assume it was a wand. I opened the leather bag up, expecting to find US currency, but what I saw was at least fifteen golden Galleons. Wizarding World money. I tapped it with my finger and glided my thumb over the intricate design on the heads side. "Doesn't feel like plastic," I muttered to myself worriedly. I whimpered quietly, allowing my eyes to go as wide as saucers. My voice sounded extremely different. Higher, for one. More… musical? Like tiny silver bells. My real voice was quite raspy and slightly deeper than the one that just escaped my lips.

I tried to find a window on the train. Before I could reach it to look at myself, I was halted by an attractive man in his late teens with shoulder-length peroxide-blonde hair, a pale face, and grey eyes.

"My, my," he said, smirking. "What have we here? I don't recall ever seeing you at Hogwarts before."

Before I could shoo him away like the maniac I felt myself becoming, a reply came from my mouth involuntarily. "We're not at Hogwarts. Not yet, anyway."

I covered my mouth, shocked. I tried not to let it show, because if my guessing skills were up to par, I would have guessed this guy to be—

"Lucius Malfoy," said the blonde, extending his hand eagerly. He was wearing black leather gloves and a silver ring with a Slytherin crest etched into it. "And you must be that new American exchange student they told us about. Aria something? What was it?" He whooshed his hair out of his face dramatically, and his black robes flowed around his ankles.

Oh my God, I thought. Did I… time travel?

"Yes," I said mechanically, that strange musical voice coming out instead of my own. "Aria Shade."

He gave a crooked smile, his eyes going up and down my seemingly taller frame. I furrowed my brows, looking down at myself. What the heck? I was wearing stylish black ankle boots with an extremely short skirt, which showed off legs that did not resemble my pale chicken legs back in, you know, reality. These new legs of mine were sun-kissed, bronze, toned, glowing, and the skirt was black and seemingly vintage. I definitely time travelled.

And I definitely had a ridiculous name. Aria Shade? What was I now, half wizard, half vampire or something?

"I'm surprised they're letting you on school grounds at all, what with your condition and all," he said snootily. "I usually only associate myself with purebloods, but for you, Ms. Shade, I think I'll make a generous exception."

I scoffed. He spoke as if he was his own gift to the universe. However, I was curious as to what he meant by my "condition." Was I a werewolf? Oh God. Please don't let me actually be half vampire.

Just as I opened my mouth and was about to sarcastically say, "No thanks, Mr. Wonderful," a rowdy group of male voices assembled behind me.

"Oi!" said one of them.

I felt a hand rest gently on my shoulder. I looked at it, confused, and looked up to see a beautiful boy with long brown hair, eyes black as night, and the face of a dark angel. I don't remember this character being canon, I thought to myself. Oh, wait

"Is this git bothering you, Beautiful?" he said sincerely. "Get lost, Malfoy. Nobody wants you 'round. You smell like outdated convictions."

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, but no one except for you really cares that Muggleborns are allowed to be taught at Hogwarts. Get with the times, will you?" said another voice.

I brushed the hand off of my shoulder, turning slightly to get a better look at the new voice's possessor. He had dark, messy black hair, black-rimmed glasses that framed lovely hazel eyes, and my gosh, he was impossibly attractive, too. What the actual hell? I froze for a moment, looking toward the entire trio. That was when I realized who these boys were supposed to be.

The Marauders.

Dude with the glasses? That was James Potter, aka Prongs. He did resemble Harry, if Harry was ten times more good-looking. And the dark angel was clearly Sirius Black. Padfoot.

I peered behind them both, noticing an American Eagle model-looking boy with sandy blonde hair, healthy physique, pretty eyes, and small scars all over his face. He looked like a Prince of Camelot. In my head, I pretended his scars were the results of battle wounds, when really I knew they were from full moons passed. Moony.

I looked around while they insulted each other publicly. It seemed as if they did this frequently because they were really good at it.

"Well if it isn't Potter and his pledges," said Malfoy, amused. "You three are worse than Mudbloods because you two purebloods—" he pointed at James and Sirius, "—actually defend tainted wizard blood." He sneered their way, waved his hand at them to signal for them to go away, and said, "Now leave us be. We were mid-conversation."

I looked at him as disbelief featured on my face, and said, "Actually, I think the conversation was clearly at its end." I turned sideways, my back mostly to Lucius. I added, "Also, aren't you done with Hogwarts by now? You're supposed to be older than the Marauders. This is all wrong. Who's running this show?"

They all laughed, ignoring me. That was irritating. None of them took my words seriously at all. I guessed I could forgo logic and reason and canon altogether for the duration of this fantasy dream world story.

Malfoy sniffed at me, his nose crinkling as he did so. He said, "Fine. But you're making a big mistake. I suppose it's for the best, though – if I were to be seen associating with a half vampire, my reputation would be in ruins, anyway."

"Well, now, we can't have that," I said heatedly, shooing him off like I'd meant to from the get-go.

On my heels, I turned at the sound of an intelligent voice speaking. Remus Lupin was one of my favorite Marauders. I smiled when he spoke. "I suppose we'd better board the train now, too. It's leaving in five minutes." He pointed at a bare wrist as if to signal to a watch that wasn't there.

"Always on top of things, aren't we, Moony?" said James brightly. He then turned to me and grinned. "We have an empty spot in our compartment if you're interested, erm—"

"Aria," I said unexpectedly. "Aria Shade. And sure, I'd like that."

I would like that, even if the words coming out of my mouth weren't the ones that I'd formed in my brain. It was every fangirl's dream, or at least it was mine, to ride to Hogwarts with the actual Marauders. Considering the fact that they were fictional characters, it could only mean that I was also fictional. That would explain my perfect skin and what I was able to notice about my physique just by glancing at my legs. To myself, I bet that I was stunningly gorgeous. Whoever was running this story I was in seemed to have no grasp on what a Mary-Sue was and how to avoid writing one. I could see flowing black hair curl around my face and down my shoulders. Something inside of me was reminded of the cliché "dark hair like a raven's feathers," but I suppressed that.

"Great," said James. He introduced himself and his two friends, even though I already knew their names. He then gestured for all of us to get a move on.

We walked aboard the Express. I had to admit, it would have been such a magical experience for my inner fangirl if I wasn't still freaking out about everything. I tried not to let it show, though.

It seemed that every compartment was full. What a shocker, I thought. Isn't it always the fact that they're all empty until we reach Lily Evans' where she's reading by herself?

Wow, I needed to stop reading so much fanfiction. My prediction was extremely dead-on. Through the glass, I saw a beautiful girl with bright emerald eyes scanning parchment-filled pages of a book of spells. Red hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was munching on some fruity-looking candies. She seemed at peace, and I just knew James, Sirius, and Remus (but mostly James and Sirius) were about to ruin her train ride.

But this time, I noticed Lily wasn't alone. A short brunette with skin like snow and hair similar to my own sat across from her. She looked like she could have come off the set of Pretty Little Liars. I was hoping to be alone with the Marauders to soak in their awesomeness, but—

"Woah, who's the porn star?" said the pretty short girl who also spoke in an American accent. Everyone turned to look my way. The boys all had expressions that made me want to put drool buckets at their feet. They ogled me, as I knew they had been trying to based on all the fanfiction I've read, but now they had a reason; someone had pointed me out. I wasn't used to the attention, like, at all. I almost looked behind me to see who they were staring at when I realized the pretty girl was talking about me. I must have looked confused and uncomfortable because somebody answered for me.

"Aria Shade," said James. "And you are?"

"Oh, goddamn," said Lily, annoyed already. "Can't you find somewhere else to sit?"

James sat down next to Lily, smiling impishly. "No can do. Everywhere else is full. Just like my heart is full of dreams, dreams of me and you."

She scoffed, burying her head back into her book. "Not today, Potter. I'm trying to get a head start on classes." She rattled the giant book in her hands.

"One of the things I love about you," he said, grinning. He ran a hand through his messy hair, causing it to stick up even more. I refrained from rolling my eyes. Every James Potter I'd ever read had that nervous habit. He also always had the inclination to flirt with Lily in the most obvious and confrontational of ways. In reality, that would come across as stalker-ish and creepy. I winced, being from the world of reality and being fully aware of how uncomfortable the banter was, and sat down next to Sirius. He was seated next to Remus, who sat by the window.

"I'm not a porn star," I said, feeling the need to clear the air with the pretty girl. I made up a lie in an attempt to get her to like me more. It seemed like I was stuck in this situation for a while. It wouldn't be a bad idea for me to make the best of things. Especially since she was sneering in my direction. "Um, everyone in America looks like me, I guess."

"I'm from America, you idiot," said the girl.

"Now, now, ladies," said Sirius, pulling out some chocolate frog cards from his robes. "Can't we all just get along?"

Lily looked up from her book to glare at James at Sirius' comment.

"Who are you again?" I don't remember reading about a snide short girl in the books, I wanted to say. "You never said."

"Stel—I mean, Caroline Bludworth," she spattered nervously, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her green eyes pierced through me like two lasers. "Transfer student."

Yes, because the books often referred to transfer students. Not.

"I met her just outside the train. She seemed really lost, so I'm keeping an eye on her. New schools can be hard to get used to," said Lily, not looking up from her book. I imagined she was trying not to look at James, or else she was trying to forget he was there completely.

"Right," said the pretty girl, Caroline. "New schools are hard."

For some reason, the way she said it made me want to believe she wasn't talking about new schools but of something else entirely. I shrugged away the feeling and went back to trying to have deep conversations with the Marauders.

"So, gentlemen," I began, "Round One of Get to Know You. Question One: What's your favorite color?"

It went on like that for a while. I laughed a lot, sometimes unwillingly, as if my creator wrote in my reactions and I played them out like a simulation. Despite the fact that everything and everyone looked so perfect and acted so unnaturally at times, I was having fun. I almost forgot there was something, or rather someone, missing.

"Hey, dudes," I said, patting the back of my hand on Sirius' chest, "Where's Peter Pettigrew?"

They all looked at me as if I was growing snakes out of my hair. Then they just laughed again.

I frowned, annoyed. It was another cliché aspect of Marauders fanfiction, and I was stuck living in it. "There are four Marauders. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Where's Wormtail?"

"You clearly don't know as much about us as you think," said James, half chuckling. "We don't know any Peter Petti-whos or—what did you say? Wormtail? Yeah, we don't know any Wormtails, either."

I looked to Remus for confirmation, my eyes growing dark. And when I said that, I meant metaphorically, but Remus' eyes went wide and said, "Merlin! I thought that was a myth. Your eyes really do change color!"

I wanted to question him, but at that point, Lily said we were almost at Hogwarts and we needed to change into our robes. Which was ridiculous, if you asked me, because the train ride was usually an all day affair. I looked out the window, and even though only about an hour had passed, the sky was full of a mix of pink and orange from the setting sun.

The group herded out of the compartment's double doors, laughing and chattering as they did so. I told them I would catch up, and Remus stayed behind with me. I asked, "What did you mean when you said my eyes changed color?"

I remembered a story in which an original character called Charlotte Grimshadow had eyes that changed color with emotion. It was the story I left off on before everything went black.

He looked up, and shame colored his deep eyes. "I didn't mean to be so rude about that. I'm sorry. I was only surprised. I should have known better, especially since I'm… I'm a werewolf."

Inside I was kicking and screaming, No! No no no no no! Remus Lupin does not simply admit these private things to total strangers!

On the outside, my face shown understanding, and I was calm.

"I just never met a half vampire before. Do you… you know… drink wizard blood?" As soon as he said it, he shook his head, realization drowning him. "Sorry. Please, don't answer that."

There's no such thing as half vampires. God damn it.

"No, it's okay," I said aloud. "I can eat or drink whatever I want. Human blood tastes best, but wizard or witch blood is my next choice. If I was a real vampire, it wouldn't sustain me for a prolonged period of time Only human blood could." Now the words were just coming out of me as if they were being written by a mysterious force and executed by my puppet body. "But don't worry. I wouldn't drink from a werewolf. Or any of you guys, really. I can live off of food and water. I only drink blood when there's a willing donor."

Oh, gross, I thought, thinking of the way hot, sticky blood would feel inside of my mouth, flowing down my throat as I swallowed graciously. A new thought came to be. Thirst. Oh, god, this probably won't end well in the long run. I pushed the urge to drink back. It was easier than I thought. I was never caught up in the vampire craze the way other girls my age seemed to be. I guess it would have benefited me to read up on vampire lore before unknowingly time traveling to a new dimension where characters in books are real. But shoot, ain't nobody got time fo' that.

"Anyways," I cleared my throat, trying to make the dryness ache less. "I should go change. It's nearly dark."

I made my way out of the compartment when I realized I had no idea where to get my uniform or robes or even which House colors I would be sporting. Sighing, I just walked toward the back of the train and found the bathroom. Luckily, right next to it, there was a linen closet. The door was open slightly. Stacked inside, I saw plain black robes, white button-ups, black skirts and pants, and grey sweater vests. I grabbed one of everything, not really sure which size would fit in this body. I probably wouldn't know until I reached a mirror or tried these suckers on.

Illogically, the bathroom was free, despite the fact that apparently everyone was supposed to have been changing into their uniforms. I rolled my eyes, giving the door a slam by accident. I didn't know my own strength. I guess half vampires were stronger than normal people. This idea is so stupid, I grumbled internally.

I set the clothes down atop the toilet seat, which was down, and stopped at the sight of my own reflection.

I hadn't been paying attention to the top half of me. I only knew my hair was dark and long and that I had perfect, glowing, tanned skin. I checked my new body out. There was more there than I knew what to do with. Seriously, how is that ass even possible? I poked it, and my finger bounced back as if I'd poked a spring mattress. I've got the butt of a hardcore squatter.

I peeled off the tight vintage skirt I'd been adorning and put on the knee-length uniform skirt. It felt so much more comfortable. I felt grateful for the change.

My eyes reached my current dark, revealing blouse. My eyes went huge. Those weren't the only huge things I saw before me, if you know what I mean. No joke, my cup size had to have been well over a DD. I was probably in the F or G zone. And once again, illogically, despite their size, they seemed to be supple and gravity defiant.

"Of course," I mumbled to myself. "Why would an OC have small boobs? Why would an OC have breasts that she could actually fit into clothing?"

I sighed, taking off the blouse that I had on. I laughed, slightly hysterically, outraged. "Oh, it gets better." I was donning a lacy red push-up bra. They looked even bigger without the shirt on. I poked one of them hesitantly, feeling as though I was poking somebody else's body inappropriately. They sure felt nothing like my real boobs. My small, real, perky boobs back in my home dimension.

I swore to myself, disbelief evident on my face. "No wonder why Caroline called me a porn star. No seventeen-year-old should reveal so much of their body like this."

I made a mental note to try to remain decently covered, but admittedly, the white button-up dress shirt that went under the sweater vest wouldn't button all the way up. It was a tight fit. Checking the tag, I noticed it said XL. "Damn it," I groaned. There wasn't another size up. I fastened as many buttons as I could without them busting apart around my chest area. The buttons covered just enough so that the red lace of my bra was invisible. The sweater vest came down in a V around my neck, and my giant ass melons were regrettably popping out.

This is what the author wants, I decided. It's pointless to fight it, then.

I gave myself a final look-over before putting the robes on. I stared only at my new face, noting my features. I wasn't ugly. That was obvious. Nobody writes ugly characters, I thought. If I ever get out of this, that's the first thing I'm going to do. My hair reached my mid-back in perfect waves and curls, which probably wasn't even the style of the Marauders' time period, but the author ignorantly chose to make it that way, anyway. My cheekbones were prominent and high; my lips were full and seemed to be shaped by the gods; and my eyebrows arched darkly over heavily made-up, lightly glowing blue eyes.

My eyes glow and change color, I thought. Fabulous.

I exhaled loudly, grabbing the wand out of my other clothing, and made a mental note to play with it later. I knew that magic wasn't a game, but come on. Who could resist such temptation?

I made it safely back to the shared compartment, but not without hearing cat calls and wolf whistles on the way there. Now that I thought about it, how couldn't I have noticed that my boobs were ginormous? They were like two bustling water balloons attached to my chest. When I walked, they had minds of their own. I knew that was going to get very old very fast.

As I looked inside the compartment, I noticed everyone but Caroline was wearing Gryffindor robes. The two of us wore House-neutral black colors.

"Wow," said Sirius. Remus and James looked up at me, genuinely taken aback, I think. Sirius smirked, gliding a thumb across his mouth nervously. "If you aren't sorted into Gryffindor—"

"You're going to stop speaking to me?" I asked, trying to finish his sentence.

"No," said Sirius. "I was just going to say that I would miss seeing you around the Common Room."

As soon as he finished speaking, I was about to give a mechanical, mundane flirty reply. But a dark figure passed our compartment and backed up to stare inside.

Sirius sighed, clearly bothered by this person's presence. "What do you want?"

A gorgeous (surprise!) guy with hair like Sirius' narrowed his pale yet heavily lashed eyes and folded his arms over his chest, which seemed only slightly less bulky than the seventh years filling the compartment.

"Now is that any way to regard your own brother?" said the boy. He smirked in my direction. I knew how stupid it was, but I kind of melted. There was a dark, rebellious appeal to Regulus Black. I almost wished the author would sort me into Slytherin.

"You're not my brother," said Sirius grimly. "Not since old Walburga sacked me as her son."

"Do not speak ill of our mother," fumed Regulus. It was clear that he was fond of her, but he regained his composure. "I just had to come see it for myself. Two Americans, here, on the way to Hogwarts. It's all anyone has been talking about. Yet nobody said they were going to be so beautiful."

It was easy not to accept compliments, or blush, or feel grateful for them. This wasn't my real body, face, or even species. It was impossible for me to be unimpressed by his words.

"Merlin, you are such a sleaze," said Sirius.

"Yeah, why don't you run along, Reggie," James piped. "Let the adults enjoy the rest of the ride in peace, eh?"

Regulus' face turned cold. He glared at the two boys. "Call me that again, and—"

James stood up, reaching into his robes for his wand. He didn't pull it out, only left his hand inside, touching it threateningly. "And what, Black? You'll do what to me? Please, do share."

Sirius followed suit, putting himself between the boys. Remus, who should have actually been away doing Prefect duties with Lily, sat quietly, not intervening at all. It was totally out of character. I wanted to pull my hair out.

"Just get out of her, Regulus," said Sirius coolly. "With any luck this is the last time all year that we see your smug little face."

Regulus did indeed look smug. "Don't bet on it, brother."

The train stopped suddenly, and I felt the jolt push me into Remus. My eyebrows arched higher as I gasped. "Sorry," I apologized. Remus put away the book that had been in his lap and waved the incident off sheepishly.

I turned to see Regulus storm away, black robes trailing behind him like black, smoky water. I decided in that moment that it would be a good idea to ruffle some feathers between the two brothers, or rather, the thought was written into my head against my will.

I'm going to end up playing with both of their hearts, I thought, not evilly, but in a way that the author had to make it clear what exactly was going to be happening in the story. Terrible foreshadowing, if one could call it that. I grimaced, wishing I had a bottle of something to raise into the air and say, "Bottoms up!"

It was going to be a long ride.