A/N: This is my first venture into writing a Harry Potter fanfic, so here's hoping I do it justice.
This story basically follows the OC's POV as she is thrown into the fictional world of Harry Potter and has to learn from scratch everything about magic and being a witch. There will be an eventual romance with none other than Severus Snape, but for now the story is rated M for language - Lauren has a potty mouth :D
I hope you enjoy this new venture with me :) Here goes...
Lauren Ward slammed the door shut to her tiny apartment, the sound reverberating jarringly throughout the interior, and leaned against the unyielding wooden door as she breathed in deeply, willing her temper to cool.
"Goddamn you, Deacon," she growled, hot tears springing unbidden to her eyes.
Pushing herself away from the door, she made her way to her living room, absently kicking her sensible heels off and swiping angrily at her eyes to ward off the tears that threatened to spill.
"Goddamn you to hell," she repeated as she slumped heavily on her threadbare, but comfy sofa. She stared mulishly at the blank T.V screen, unable to will up the energy to flick it on and surf some channels to distract her, anything to make her forget the phone call she had just had with her boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend, she corrected sourly. Honestly, who dumps their girlfriend over the phone? The answer would be Deacon, that's who.
She rubbed tiredly at her face and sighed heavily. She was angry, though pissed off was the best phrase to describe her current mood. But what had transpired was hardly surprising. Their relationship had been of one that consisted of many ups and downs.
More downs than ups, she admitted to herself.
And, truthfully, she hadn't been happy for quite some time. The only reason she had stuck it out was because it was familiar. The constant game of fighting and breaking up, and then the making up followed by the brief period of lovey dovey happiness. It had become routine.
She was smart enough to know it was a toxic relationship and had been looking for a way out for some time now, and today had finally been the last straw. Especially after that phone call.
Well, it's over now. Time to finally move on, she thought with determination.
Deacon must have realized that she was deadly serious this time and there would be no coming back this time, for he quickly changed his tune. But she had had enough and did not back down. No, she had finally found the courage to move on.
Lauren heaved herself off the couch and padded to the kitchen, grabbing a chilled bottle of wine from the fridge.
Perfect time to get sloshed and forget that asshole, she mused as she uncorked the bottle.
Settling herself in front of the television and drinking straight from the bottle, Lauren flicked through the channels, finally settling on a cheesy romcom.
Ahh shit. I really need to get out more, she deliberated peevishly, but still didn't drag her attention away from the movie, where the guy was predictably declaring his undying love to the woman who had been under his nose the whole time – he only been too blind to see it.
Lauren rolled her eyes dramatically and took another swig from her bottle, feeling the heady effects of the alcohol. It was working wonders and going straight to her head.
Maybe I should order something to eat to help sober up. After a pause, she mentally shrugged off that thought. Nah, and she proceeded to take another long gulp from the bottle.
Two hours later she was blissfully passed out in front of the telly, completely oblivious to the world around her.
So oblivious, in fact, that she did not hear the key in lock, nor did she hear the door creak. Nor did she sense the dark figure stalk into the room and loom over her as he studied her with hatred burning in his soulless eyes.
A few moments ticked by and Lauren stirred, sensing something was amiss. She blinked heavily, blearily making out the figure of a man standing over her. A very familiar man.
Her eyes widened in fear but before she could open her mouth to scream, something swung down at her head, sending her into pitch black oblivion.
ooOoo
Lauren groaned, her entire body aching and her head pounding incessantly.
Bloody hell! That's one hell of a hangover. Maybe I overdid it with the wine…
Her eyes felt like they were made of lead, unwilling to open.
Yup, too much cheap wine. That stuff's bloody potent!
Her senses were slowly starting to come to life and the first thing she noticed was that she seemed to be lying on a hard, stone floor. She was definitely not in her carpeted living room or on her sofa, where she was sure she had passed out.
What the…
Her other senses were starting awakening, and the second thing that pierced her awareness was the sound of murmurs and whisperings. And by the sounds of it, it belonged to a rather large crowd.
Did I, in my drunken state, decided to go gallivanting and end up somewhere else? It wouldn't be the first time that's happened…
The murmurings were steadily growing louder, or maybe it was because she was just starting to fully wake up.
Oh, enough of this! Where the hell did I end up?
Lauren slowly opened her eyes.
And what she saw made no sense.
Are those…floating candles?
She frowned. No, that can't be. I must still be bloody drunk!
She blinked again.
Nope, candles are still there. What the hell? Is this some kind of trick?
Her frown deepened, resembling more of a menacing scowl. The murmurs were still flooding her sense, but she could not pick out anything intelligible in what was being discussed.
She sensed a sweeping movement nearing her and slowly turned her head to the side. The murmurings halted, much to her relief. But her relief was short lived.
She now found herself staring into a see of curious faces of children, all seated on long benches and wearing peculiar black cloaks. Some were craning their necks to get a better look at her, while others leaned back far enough in their seats to witness what was unravelling before them.
Something rustled beside her and she slowly turned her head in the direction of the movement. Her eyes locked with a pair of twinkling and piercing blue eyes of an old man who was crouched beside her; eyes that were framed by half-moon spectacles. The rest of his features were hidden by his impressively long white beard and equally long hair, though this did nothing to distract from his spectacularly crooked nose.
Wait…you look familiar, her foggy mind supplied, rather uselessly.
He gave her a kind, almost grandfatherly smile, but it did little to ease the apprehension she suddenly felt.
Something's wrong. Very wrong.
"Hello, my dear. You gave us all quite a fright," he said, his voice a low and pleasant rumble; a voice meant to sooth and calm troubled souls and draw them into a sense of security.
She blinked up uncomprehendingly at him.
He continued in his calm tone, almost as though it were nothing unusual for him to converse with another person while they lay flat on their backs on a hard, stone floors.
"May I enquire who you are?"
Lauren swallowed thickly. She opened her mouth to answer and had to cough to clear her parchment dry throat when nothing but a croak came out.
"Lauren. Lauren Ward," she finally managed.
The old man smiled down beatifically at her and once again she was struck with the thought that she knew him from somewhere.
"Lovely to meet you, Miss Ward. And may I enquire as to how you managed to appear in the Great Hall? Quite spectacularly, I might add."
She frowned hard at him, trying to focus her mind enough to make sense of the situation. It didn't help that her headache was trying to pound its way out of her skull like a jackhammer.
"I…I don't know." Lauren struggled to sit up, and a long-fingered hand at her back offered the aid she needed. She sat there on the cold floor, well aware of all the eyes of the children trained on her like a target, but she was only focused on the grandfather figure in front of her. The world had only narrowed down to the two of them.
She stared at him, willing him to believe the truth of her words, feeling close to tears in her confusion.
And then suddenly, the pieces fell into place, slotting neatly in her head.
Her head whipped back to the fresh-faced children, noting that each row wore a different colored emblem on the breast of their black robes.
No…but that means…
Her head whipped back to the man crouched beside her, who was staring keenly at her, his true thoughts hidden behind his calm and relaxed façade.
A slight movement behind him caught her attention and her attention was drawn to the dark figure swathed all in billowing black. There was no mistaking the hooked nose, glinting obsidian eyes that seemed to burrow deep into her soul, searching out her darkest secrets, nor the inky black hair that framed his pale features.
Severus Snape.
She swallowed hard, reality crashing down hard on her.
She tore her gaze from the formidable figure the Half-Blood Prince cut and turned once more to the aged man, whom she now realized was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"Where am I?" she asked, already knowing, but dreading the answer.
A slight frown crinkled his brows at her question, almost as though the answer should have been obvious to her. It was now, but she really needed confirmation before she freaked out.
"You're at Hogwarts, Miss Ward."
A harsh hiss escaped her lips and she closed her eyes tightly, willing this all to be a bad dream.
Breathe deeply, Lauren. Calm down. Maybe when you open your eyes, you'll be back in your apartment and this will all turn out to be a dream. No, a nightmare. Hush! Now, count to three and open your eyes.
1…2…3…
She slowly opened her eyes, only to find that this was not a dream and she was very much in Hogwarts. She was in the fictional world of Harry Potter.
"Fuck," she cursed softly.
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