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calmlyerratic · 2 days
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What would it be like? Meeting your dead father for the first time?
It couldn't possibly be true. Sure, Sirius, Lupin, and—bloody hell—
Ron felt his throat burn dry at the shock of the teenage Wormtail, parading haphazardly along beside them. And he couldn't deny his own eyes and ears—Sirius and Lupin as young as he'd seen them in photos.
But, how in Merlin's name could they be?
Harry had shaken Sirius' hand, but Ron hadn't, and he felt incredibly tempted to poke him with his wand. So, he did.
"Oi! Where do you get off—!" Sirius brandished his own wand, silver eyes narrowing to slits.
Probably should have gone for Lupin, Ron reconsidered as he watched Lupin hold back a grin.
"Sorry mate," Ron grimaced sheepishly as they walked, putting his hands up in surrender. "I just wanted to—er, be sure..."
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic read it here on ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 3 days
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"So—you lot are really—from the past, then?"
Harry, the bloody lunatic, was nearly running again up the corridor ahead of them. As Ron tried to keep up, he blinked fervently at the young Sirius, Lupin, and Wormtail, hurrying along beside him.
It was an extraordinary sight to see—all five of them the same age, from the past and future, striding down the dim dungeon corridors with the speed and likeness of a train moving through a dark tunnel.
Ron gulped as he caught a fleeting glimpse of Wormtail under a passing gas lamp.
"Don't catch on very fast—" Sirius huffed, dark hair elegantly trailing along behind him, "—do you?"
Ron's ears flushed red. "Well how would you feel—if your mate's dad's mates came up to you—looking twenty years younger!"
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic read it here on ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 7 days
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working on my fic and I couldn't quite remember if wizard chess pieces talk, until I found this 🥺
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(sneak peek—Hermione's pov from ch 11 of Encounters of the Future Sort below the cut)
"Well, come on!" Exclaimed a knight with the hilt of his carved wooden sword missing. "Have your go then, lass!"
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A small round table lay before her with a very worn wizard's chess set. It belonged to Gryffindor, so it was usually on display, and the pieces had a habit of goading anyone who sat before it to join them for a round.
"Sometimes doing nothing is the best possible move," she told the night quietly.
"Aye, but keep an eye on b5." The knight brandished his broken sword. "To battle!"
"Of course you'd say that, you're a knight for God's sake." Hermione told him.
She gently spun the wooden knight to face away from her, ignoring his noble protests ("A knight's oath is as unbreakable as his armor!"), then sunk back into her chair and sighed.
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Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic, read it here on Ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 8 days
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“Prongs, are you stoned?”
James’ brow knit further in confusion, only affirming this speculation.
“Sirius,” Remus whispered. “Look at his eyes."
Remus' eyesight was impeccable, but Sirius had to squint through the dim lighting. James' eyes looked a little bloodshot and much greener than usual.
“Well, just look at him Moony—he’s high as a bloody kite!" Sirius barked in half-laughter. "That stuff from greenhouse seven does a number on you, eh mate?” He winked at the tall red head, who gulped.
James and the red head exchanged a bizarre look and Sirius burst out laughing.
“Oh this is brilliant! Do you have any more? And why in Godric’s name wasn’t I invited?” Sirius tucked a strand of dark hair elegantly behind his ear, eyeing the red head. “Who are you, anyway?”
The red head was very white. He clutched his wand in one hand and his half-eaten brownie in the other.
“What the bloody hell is going on!”
Sirius snorted. “Blimey, must be good stuff?"
Remus' lips pursed slightly as he bit the inside of his cheek. “Who are you?”
“I'm Harry Potter.” James answered, in a way that quite convinced Sirius he was.
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic, read it here on Ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 13 days
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I don't know who needs to see this buuuut... moony is an actual word??
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calmlyerratic · 14 days
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omg 😭 so happy you're here for the chaos <3
Harry meets teenage Sirius & Remus
"Remus Lupin." The teenage Remus nodded cordially. "I–I don't think we should be talking to you."
"Nonsense, Moony." The youthful Sirius brushed this away with an elegant sweep of his hand. "Excuse him—he's a bit on edge because we're in the future and all that, you know..."
"No, Sirius. I really don't think they do." Remus suggested blandly. "In fact, I'm not sure you do either."
"Perhaps not," Sirius whole-heartedly agreed. "But I can't imagine a circumstance I would rather be in than this current moment."
"How utterly selfless of you," Remus muttered.
"Wait until we find Prongs, he won't believe it—"
Harry's heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
"Is my da—erm, James—is he with you?"
"Yeah, he was anyway." Sirius shrugged. "We got caught up with Peeves and I think he went back to the common room to—hey, wait!"
Harry began running blindly up the stone corridor.
James—his father—was actually here? In the common room? Details escaped him, who cared why or how—
He had to run, he had to—
"Harry–! Hold your bloody hippogriffs!"
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by @calmlyerratic
read it here on Ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 17 days
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So excited for your fic like james and lily aren't even together yet and they're gonna realise THEY HAVE A CHILD OMFG it's gonna be a start to a love story and Harry's gonna see it happen or maybe just think that he has a part in it ahh I'm dyingg
AHH I'm so excited too! I've always wanted to read an AU where the marauders go forward in time, but started writing it instead lol 🤍
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calmlyerratic · 17 days
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I don’t read any jily or hinny fics usually but I read your fic encounters of the future sort after your post came for chapter 10 was on my dash and I love it sooooooo much it’s so good i can’t wait for chapter 11 I just know I’m gonna tear up when Harry meets James and especially Lily like he’s going to meet his mother 😭 ugh I’m tearing up just thinking about it and I feel so bad for Ron see wormtail like the trauma he has from knowing an old guy was sleeping in his bed with him ugh it’s also so sad I feel so bad for him
Omg I know right, poor ron lol I'm hoping to give him (and all of us) a little closure on that trauma. I can't wait for Harry to meet his parents too!! It's an emotional rollercoaster 🥲 so happy you're here for it <3
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calmlyerratic · 18 days
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Harry meets teenage Sirius & Remus
"Remus Lupin." The teenage Remus nodded cordially. "I–I don't think we should be talking to you."
"Nonsense, Moony." The youthful Sirius brushed this away with an elegant sweep of his hand. "Excuse him—he's a bit on edge because we're in the future and all that, you know..."
"No, Sirius. I really don't think they do." Remus suggested blandly. "In fact, I'm not sure you do either."
"Perhaps not," Sirius whole-heartedly agreed. "But I can't imagine a circumstance I would rather be in than this current moment."
"How utterly selfless of you," Remus muttered.
"Wait until we find Prongs, he won't believe it—"
Harry's heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
"Is my da—erm, James—is he with you?"
"Yeah, he was anyway." Sirius shrugged. "We got caught up with Peeves and I think he went back to the common room to—hey, wait!"
Harry began running blindly up the stone corridor.
James—his father—was actually here? In the common room? Details escaped him, who cared why or how—
He had to run, he had to—
"Harry–! Hold your bloody hippogriffs!"
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by @calmlyerratic
read it here on Ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 18 days
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Professor Trelawney on déjà vu
"Broaden your minds...the inner eye must be open in order to see into the beyond..."
Trelawney's voiced wavered mystically, her eyes magnified through circular spectacles.
"Akin to the nebulous, ambient thoughts of a mind at sunrise, as reality lingers somewhere between asleep and awake... what is déjà vu if not a prior knowing of the unknown?"
"I have something nebulous and ambient to drop in the loo after this..." Ron muttered.
Harry bit back a smirk as Trelawney's eyes snapped to his. She drew one of her innumerable shawls more tightly around her shoulders, as if shuddering from a sudden chill in the air.
"Harken to the wisdom of your dreams...heed their messages..."
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by @calmlyerratic
Summary: AU & headcanon time travel. A freak cauldron explosion leads the Marauders, Lily, and Sev hurtling forward into the future where they come into contact with Harry and friends during their 5th Year at Hogwarts. Alternating POV's. Anything is possible. Lots of shenanigans, but also an emotional rollercoaster. Silly, Jily, & Wolfstar.
read it here on Ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 19 days
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If James met Fred & George
"You gave Peeves those dungbombs?" James' jaw dropped. "That's a risky venture."
"Indeed it was," Fred grinned. "A gamble that has paid off thus far."
"And we can't take all the credit," George said modestly. "Rotting them was Lee's idea."
Fred nodded. "We were just planning on reeking a little harmless havoc—"
"—pun intended—" George winked.
"—until Ginny told us you were toadnapped."
"Best laid plans," George shrugged wistfully.
"I was just saying that earlier!" James exclaimed in awe.
Who were these two and where had they been all his life?
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort by @calmlyerratic
read here on Ao3
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calmlyerratic · 27 days
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It's April 1st, 1996
...and the Marauders are in the future, but they don't know it yet...
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A flash of red hair caught James' eye and he darted over to the fireplace.
The red head heard him coming and turned around—it wasn't Lily.
"Oh, hey Harry." She smiled, adjusting her fiery locks in a ponytail. "I thought you went to the library with Ron?"
The fire danced shadows on James' face as he stared at her speechless, an uncomfortable feeling creeping into his gut. This was the third time today he'd been called Harry—why had everyone suddenly forgotten his first name?
"You know," said a very bushy haired girl seated beside the red head, "you really should be, Harry. I finished that essay days ago."
"I'm not Harry, I'm James." James said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The red head and the bushy haired girl met his eyes with shock, then noting the conviction on his face, they exchanged a worried glance.
The red head leaned over and whispered something in other girl's ear that sounded an awful lot like, "I think he's finally cracked."
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Ao3: Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic
Silly, Jily, & Wolfstar
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calmlyerratic · 27 days
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It's April 1st, 1976
...and the Marauders are time traveling into the future...where they meet Harry.
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It was a beautiful Saturday morning. The sun was twinkling through the lofty clouds, casting rays of warmth on the freshly thawed spring grounds of Hogwarts. Most students were outside, lounging along the banks of the Black Lake and enjoying this sudden heat wave.
But if someone just happened to journey up to the school's seventh floor, their nose would detect the foul stench rotten eggs, and their eyes would see through the fog that was consuming the corridor, and they would be led to a room that could be found only if you knew where it was. And in this room, they would discover four boys hovering over a giant, brass cauldron.
"Shut up Moony! We're fine."
"I agree with Prongs—shove it."
"No one cares what you think Padfoot!"
"Ouch, Moony. And I didn't realize words could bruise..."
"Oh—sod off. It's not my fault that you two have some absurd death wish."
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Ao3: Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic
Silly, Jily, & Wolfstar
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calmlyerratic · 1 month
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Encounters of the Future Sort
Chapter 6: The Toad's Lair
by @calmlyerratic
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Read it here on Ao3.
Ch Summary: AU. The Marauders time travel to 1996.
“Lift up your fringe, James.” Fred implored, crossing his arms.
“What? Why?”
“Look,” George began, also crossing his arms. “Either you’re actually Harry and you’ve just gone bonkers—”
“—or you’re not Harry—”
“—and the only way to be sure—”
“—is for you to lift up your fringe.”
ch word count: 2.8k — rating: T — cw: Umbridge. Lol.
Read Chapter 1 | full Summary & Chapter Index
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Continuation of Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm, from Ginny’s perspective
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Ginny
Hospital Wing
With Hermione and James
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“I trust there is a good reason for this intrusion?” Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, glaring at Ginny and Hermione.
“Well, you see…” Ginny began, twirling a strand of fiery hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. She watched as Madam Pomfrey handed a very pale second-year Hufflepuff a glass of dark green, syrupy liquid.
Ginny opened her mouth, then hesitated.
How can I explain this properly? Yes, Madam, I believe Harry Potter has finally cracked…
To Ginny, Harry was tall, dark, and mysterious—but always very humble. Almost intimidatingly so. When he wasn’t brooding, and he usually was these days, he was so gentle and always unusually kind. He had a sharp edge sometimes, though only when it was warranted.
Harry had never been full of himself in the slightest—even when he had every right to be. That was one of the many things she always admired about him, so it was very off putting when he puffed out his chest and ran a hand through his (quite lovely) untidy hair, like he had suddenly developed an insufferable ego.
Hermione also seemed to be at a loss for words as she chewed on her bottom lip, nervously hugging her crossed arms.
Ginny glanced around to make sure no Slytherins, familiar faces, or any members of the Inquisitorial Squad were lurking about. There was a handful of younger students lying in hospital beds, two of whom had large red boils sprinkling their faces. She smirked. Apparently, Fred and George’s skiving snackboxes were becoming quite the trend.
Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and appeared rather irritated. Ginny decided it would be best to jump straight to the point.
“He, er,” Ginny lowered her voice, “he thinks he’s his father…”
She glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who was tying his shoe.
“Hey, I don’t see Evans here,” Harry called from across the infirmary. “Tell her I’ll catch up with her later, yeah? I still need to find Sirius, Remus, and Peter.”
Ginny heard Hermione gasp as she watched Madam Pomfrey clutch her heart.
Having spent the entirety of last summer at Grimmauld Place, Ginny knew there was no one in the world Harry loved or valued protecting more than Sirius. The way he yelled Sirius’ name so casually gave her goosebumps, like he wasn’t a world-renowned escaped convict in hiding. Like he was talking about a different Sirius, from another time…
Maybe a time when Sirius and Remus had been friends with his father? He’d also mentioned Peter, who Ginny was nearly positive had been the same Peter masquerading as Scabbers for nearly twelve years. No one ever seemed keen on discussing precise details of that disturbing revelation, but she’d gathered bits and pieces of the story listening in on Order meetings over the summer and she knew the whole subject made Ron insanely uncomfortable.
“Oh-okay?” Harry said as Madam Pomfrey led him to a bed with white cotton sheets, his expression akin to that of her brother’s when their mother was overreacting.
It was awful to hope that he had been cursed, but she’d honestly prefer it to the thought of him losing his mind. Ginny watched as Madam Pomfrey examined Harry with her wand, then checked his pupils—
Weird.
Ginny stepped a foot closer, in case her eyes were deceiving her.
By the tip of Madam Pomfrey’s wand, Harry’s eyes were lit up—and they were brown. Or rather hazel, with amber tones and subtle flecks of green.
But, Harry has bright emerald green eyes…
She took a moment to digest this information, then glanced over at Hermione, who had a strand of frizzy hair falling across her anxious face. Ginny didn’t suppose she noticed his eyes—Hermione had been incredibly strung out preparing for her O.W.L’s. It had been difficult for her to string two words together unless they were about the history of Giant wars, the properties of moonstone, or the translation of rather complicated looking runes.
Harry blinked and his strange hazel eyes looked right through her. Something was very off…though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
For all of his physical appearance, he looked just like Harry: tall and thin—but muscular from years of quidditch—with his long nose and unruly raven hair. Even his voice sounded the same, it was only what he said, and how he carried himself that was so eerily uncanny.
Ginny gathered herself from fixating on Harry’s jawline and watched curiously as he answered Madam Pomfrey’s questions.
“My name—it’s James Potter.” Harry said once again, and he was so convicted, Ginny couldn’t help but consider the probability…
Madam Pomfrey, however, grew increasingly concerned. “A-and what year is it?”
“It’s April 1st, 1976.”
Ginny tuned out of the conversation. 1976…how old was Sirius again?
Madam Pomfrey left for her office and Ginny blinked, wondering how viable it was that he was telling the truth.
At that moment, Harry ruffled his lovely hair again, like it was a reflex, solidifying this nearly impossible thought. She thought of what her brothers would say.
“The thing about growing up with Fred and George, is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible…” —Ginny, OotP, chapter 29
Harry turned quite pompously to Hermione and Ginny when Madam Pomfrey was out of earshot.
“Look, I respect your dedication, but this is kind of becoming a drag.”
He jumped to his feet and waved a hand in farewell, with a disarming smile.
“Peeves is at large and I’m a deserter, so…nice to meet you both, I appreciate your time, and see you around!”
Ginny watched him leave the infirmary; mouth slightly ajar.
How could this be Harry?
“We’re supposed to write an essay on the properties of moonstone, which is the main ingredient in a love potion…” Hermione squeaked, tucking a long frizzy strand behind her ear. “I wonder if maybe someone slipped him one? Although I don’t think it’s possible to—to, you know, use it in connection with a deceased person…”
Ginny bit her lip, wondering if Hermione could handle her new theory, and feeling slightly vulnerable being the one to point it out. Everyone knew Ginny had a terrible crush on Harry when she was younger and she didn’t particularly enjoy calling attention to it.
“Hermione, did you notice his—erm…his eyes?”
Hermione blinked, staring blankly. “What about them?”
“They…weren’t green.” Ginny bit her lip again, feeling her cheeks flush.
Damn red headed complexion, she thought haughtily.
Hermione knit her brow, her eyes darting around as if searching internal files for an explanation.
"What do you mean?"
“When Madam Pomfrey was shining her light...his eyes were hazel.”
Hermione blinked again, still seated at the foot of the bed, staring at the infirmary door. She suddenly jumped to her feet.
"We should go after him.”
Ginny nodded and the two of them hurried out the grand wooden doors of the infirmary, leaving an agitated Madam Pomfrey in their wake.
“He can’t have gone far—oh!” Hermione stopped short; eyes very wide.
Ginny spotted a flash of pink a little way down the corridor, just outside the entrance to the library.
One good thing about Umbridge, Ginny mused, you could always see her coming.
“Is that—?” Hermione squinted.
“Yeah, it is.” Ginny sighed. “Bullocks.”
Harry was standing there, caught right between Umbridge and Snape. Ginny and Hermione watched for a moment, as Umbridge turned on her heel and led a reluctant Harry down the opposite end of the corridor.
Ginny adjusted her fiery ponytail, preparing for battle. “I bet she’s taking him back to her lair…”
“Her lair?” Hermione bit her lip and cracked a smile.
Ginny nodded, unable to stifle a grin herself.
“That’s what Fred and George call her office.” Ginny shrugged. “It’s quite fitting, actually.”
Hermione gazed down the corridor, contemplating. “We have to do something.”
Ginny took a sharp breath in with a bolt of inspiration. She grabbed Hermione’s elbow.
“C’mon, I have a plan…”
James
DADA Classroom, Umbridge’s Office
James walked in silence behind Umbridge, the sharp click, clack of her pink heels piercing his brain with every step along the stone floors.
He lingered as far behind her as he could, hoping to dodge down a corridor before she realized he was gone. Every time he came close to escaping, she cast a glance over her shoulder with a nasty smile.
Who the hell was this woman?
Finally, they reached a classroom on the third floor in the North Tower. It was a room unfamiliar to James, as he haughtily climbed a short staircase to her office. She opened the door and gestured him inside.
It took all of James’ remaining patience not to throw up then and there, on her knit carpet. It was like an eerie, pink paradise.
“The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.” —OotP, chapter 13
James wrinkled his nose at the dense, pungent scent of roses and potpourri. Umbridge delicately closed the door and motioned to a small table draped in lace.
“Sit, Mr. Potter.” She said sweetly, her lips curling into a sickening smile.
James supposed it was more of a command than a request. She clicked over to her desk and sat down, where he spotted a large wooden block with ‘Headmistress’ in gold writing.
“That says Headmistress…Professor Dolores Umbridge?”
The toad woman’s head snapped up, giving James the impression he’d fallen right into her trap.
“Yes?” Her cruel eyes pierced him. “Is there a problem?”
James raised an eyebrow. Despite the fact she was obviously baiting him, he was unable to resist.
“Er, yeah. There is. You aren’t Headmistress, Albus Dumbledore is—or the Headmaster, anyway.”
Umbridge became very red in the face and she jumped to her feet, which didn’t make much of a difference as she wasn’t much taller standing than sitting. James bit his bottom lip to hold back a smirk.
“Don’t-test-me-Potter,” she whispered scathingly, the sugary sweetness evaporated from her voice. “You’ve caused quite enough trouble for me to have you arrested for the remains of your school years. Albus Dumbledore can no longer protect you—just one quick call to Cornelius and you’re off to Azkaban!”
Sure, James had pulled a few pranks here and there, but nothing that serious. However, this woman was clearly unstable and vindictive, which was enough of a disturbing combination to keep James locked in place.
He watched silently as the toad smoothed her cardigan and drew a piece of parchment from a desk drawer. Her sugary smile flickered back on.
“Now, sit.”
James was not feeling eager to provoke her, particularly because he wasn't sure what he'd done to begin with. So, he sat on the edge of the straight chair in the corner, just in case it came alive to strangle him.
“Now, shall we begin?”
Umbridge set the parchment on the table in front of James and handed him a long, thin black quill with a very sharp point.
James poised the quill in his fingers. Umbridge sat behind her desk and laced her fingers together, continuing to smile psychotically at him. He waited for a few moments, trying to ignore the eerie purring and stares of a thousand cat eyes looming down upon him.
“Not to be presumptuous,” James twirled the quill between his fingers, unable to quell his defiant nature. “But may I be so bold as to assume I will be writing lines?”
Umbridge smiled, if possible, even sweeter.
What was that muggle saying Remus used? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
The toad certainly seemed quite keen on this theory as she opened her mouth, and James wondered if she’d spotted a particularly juicy fly, but before she could speak a deafening CRASH sounded above their heads.
The creepy purring went quiet as Umbridge jumped to her feet and the room shook slightly as several smaller crashes followed. She drew her wand from her frilly pink cardigan and ran towards the door. At the last second, she whipped her head around and pointed menacingly.
"We are not finished here, Mr. Potter!”
James, however, begged to differ. He stuck his tongue at her back as she jolted out of the office.
Jumping to his feet, James peered out the crack in the door until it was safe to follow. Umbridge turned right down the corridor, so he turned left, truly hoping she would meet her demise with this godsend of a distraction.
What a weird day, James thought, with absolutely no concept of just how weird it was about to become.
As he rounded a corner, James came face to face with two tall, gangly red heads that appeared identical in every way. He blinked twice with the fear he was seeing double.
“Made it out alive did you?” the grinning twin on the right asked.
James looked back and forth between the two, confused—but that did seem to be a familiar pattern today.
“That,” the twin on the left began, “was a clever little diversion we refer to as—”
“—‘tempt Peeves into pelting Mrs. Norris with dungbombs’—” the one on the right added.
“—‘and inconsequently, give Filch an aneurism.’” The one on the left finished with a wink.
“That was you?” James baffled.
The twins nodded in unison, grins mirroring one another.
“Ginny tipped us off,” the one on the right grinned. “And here we are, your knights in shining armor.”
The one on the left bowed regally. “No need to thank us—just preforming our civic duties.”
James wondered why these odd, identical people he'd never seen before were helping him with such aplomb.
“Well blimey, thanks anyway! Thought I was a goner in there, dunno who put a crack in that toad's cauldron…”
“No problem, mate. Wouldn’t want that scar to get any deeper,” the twin on the right nodded to James’ hand.
James stretched his fingers, examining his hand; quite unaware of any scar he had attained.
The twin on the left knit his brow. “Huh. Murtlap essence does work wonders…”
“Saved our hides with the fever fudge,” the twin on the right grimaced. “Cleared up those awful puss filled boils, especially good for pesky ones right in the—”
“Look, I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re on about,” James admitted, running the hand in question through his hair. “Actually I don’t even know who you are, to be honest. Have we met?”
The twins exchanged a cryptic glance.
“Fred—” the one on the right pointed to the one on the left.
“—and George.” The one on the left pointed to the one on the right. “Blimey, Harry—did Umbridge confound you?”
James scoffed in frustration, his ego swelling. “Why does everyone keep calling me that? My name is James. As in James Potter. Who this Harry bloke is, I’d really like to know!”
Fred and George exchanged another glance. They nodded in unison, as if they’d had a whole conversation in two seconds without actually speaking.
“Lift up your fringe, James.” Fred implored, crossing his arms.
“What?” James puzzled, wondering what difference his hairline could possibly make. “Why?”
“Look,” George began, also crossing his arms. “Either you’re actually Harry and you’ve just gone bonkers—”
“—or you’re not Harry—”
“—and the only way to be sure—”
“—is for you to lift up your fringe.” Fred resolved matter-of-factly.
James shrugged, sighing. “All right, then.”
It seemed like a ridiculous request, but James was just glad to be speaking with people who actually seemed to comprehend what he was saying.
So, he lifted his fringe.
To James’ curiosity, Fred and George leaned in and squinted their eyes while they examined his forehead.
"How intriguing..." Fred considered.
“Did you put Murtlap essence on that scar, too?” George puzzled.
“Unless, George…”
“Yes, Fred?”
“Unless he’s actually—
“—not Harry, at all?”
James nodded his head in exasperation. “I’m definitely not Harry.”
“The resemblance is uncanny, George.” Fred commented lightly.
George stroked his chin and nodded. “Indeed it is, Fred.”
The twins contemplated James for a few moments, circling around and eyeing him over from top to bottom.
Fred straightened up, turning to his twin. “Shall we?”
George nodded solemnly. “I believe so.”
The two simultaneously waved their wands and James’ arms and legs were bound by invisible ropes.
“Hey—!” James squirmed; his arms pinned to his sides.
Fred flicked his wand upwards and James’ tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.
“Sorry, mate. But seeing as we don’t know who you are…”
“And also that you’re nearly indistinguishable from Harry,” George added.
“We can’t leave you gallivanting around unsupervised.”
Fred waved his wand again and James’ feet levitated slightly off the floor.
James, tongue tied and bound, thought of many foul cuss words and it was rather fortunate for the twins he was totally incapacitated.
Whoever this Harry bloke is, James thought, I’ll hex him into next Tuesday.
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Notes: Fred and George are so much fun to write heheh. Next chapter we're back to Harry, Ron, and the remaining Marauders! Young Sev and Lily are going to make an appearance here soon, too.
A gigantic hug to everyone supporting this fic! As a writer, feedback is so incredibly invaluable. It helps me process the chapter from a new perspective. Whatever strikes a chord or makes you giggle, let me know! Hearing from you totally fuels my day and inspiration. I <3 you all.
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calmlyerratic · 1 month
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Encounters of the Future Sort
Chapter 5: A Strange Encounter
by @calmlyerratic
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Read it here on Ao3.
Ch Summary: AU. The Marauders time travel to 1996.
“Prongs? You all right?” the young Sirius knit his brow.
Lupin put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Er—Sirius, I don’t think that’s James.”
Ron let out a small yelp and looked down at his half-eaten food. “I hope this isn't a brownie from greenhouse seven…”
ch wc: 2k — rating: T — cw: Harry is rather broody
Read Chapter 1 | full Summary & Chapter Index
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Notes: The divergence from canon starts at the beginning of ch 29, just before Harry makes a plan with Ginny in the library to break into Umbridge's office and uses her fireplace to talk to Sirius. That Harry/Ginny scene is truly adorable and I think I'll have to make up for cutting it in this crazy AU world later…anyway, enjoy :)
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Continuation of Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm, from Harry's perspective
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Harry
Dungeon Corridors
April 1st, 1996
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“Two and a half feet of parchment on the history of Fulbert the Fearful—it’s mental!”
Ron reached into the pocket of his robes and began to unwrap a pasty, as if he needed to refuel from this mere thought.
“Yeah, well I expect it’d be a bit easier if he wasn’t known for never leaving his house,” Harry agreed dryly.
“Inquisitorial Squad material, that one is." Ron mumbled through bites of pie. "D’you think Hermione’ll let me copy off the essay Binns set us?”
“Probably not.” Harry sighed, wishing she would. “Worth a go though…”
“It was the first day of the Easter holidays and Hermione, as was her custom, had spent a large part of the day drawing up study schedules for the three of them. Harry and Ron had let her do it — it was easier than arguing with her and, in any case, they might come in useful.
Ron had been startled to discover that there were only six weeks left until their exams.” —OotP, chapter 29
Harry too had been taken off guard about their rapidly approaching O.W.L’s, but he kept this from Hermione. She was already prying about his occlumency lessons, and he didn’t feel particularly keen to share that Snape had nearly hit him in the head with a jar of cockroaches, or the reason why.
Despite the pressure of encroaching exams and Hermione’s firm encouragement to study, Harry had called it quits that afternoon, following a half-hour of rereading the same paragraph in his transfigurations book over and over again—with the realization he wasn't retaining a single word.
Ron had then suggested they take a detour from the library (“Can’t work on an empty stomach, can we?”) and the two boys had popped by the kitchens. The pockets of their robes were now filled with leftovers from very enthusiastic, insistent elves. They were in no rush to return to the dormitory, hoping to avoid Hermione’s studious wrath all together.
“…one evening off a week? I mean, she’s brilliant, Hermione—but she’s only left me a 30-minute block for meals!” Ron sputtered as he finished his pasty and pulled a brownie out of his pocket, which he began to unwrap. “No wonder we’re bloody starving…”
Harry nodded absentmindedly as Ron rambled on, squinting through the dim dungeon corridor. The heavy rains outside and the fluctuating spring temperatures, mixed with the damp dungeon air, were casting a layer of moisture on his glasses.
Harry heard Ron ask him a question, then glance at him hopefully. The only word Harry caught was ‘quidditch’, but he quickly nodded.
"Yeah—absolutely.”
Ron sighed in relief, a slight smile returning to his face as he took a bite of brownie.
“Yeah, the badges are bound to grow old soon…slimy Slytherin gits…”
Harry continued to nod and give one-word responses of affirmation here and there. Although he wouldn't admit it to Ron, the last thing on his mind was Slytherin and their 'Weasley is Our King' badges. Quidditch was still a priority for Harry, even though Umbridge had kicked him off the team earlier that year, but his mind was currently bursting at the seams with all that had happened during the last few weeks.
For one, he couldn’t shake the resentment he held towards Cho for their last conversation. Her words rung unpleasantly in his mind:
“She’s a lovely person really, she just made a mistake —” —Cho, OotP, chapter 28
How Cho could possibly defend Marietta when the latter had sold them all out to Umbridge was infuriating.
Currently, it was easier to feel angry at Cho and Marietta than to face the guilt of starting the DA in the first place. Harry was very much in denial, but the unreal fear that Dumbledore had truly left Hogwarts because he'd assumed responsibility for it all weighed heavily on his subconscious. Umbridge was now completely unhinged with her new title as Headmistress, and Harry was positive she’d slipped some veritaserum into his tea the other day to ascertain information on the Order.
Then another matter, putting Harry quite over the edge, was his last occlumency lesson and the all-consuming desire to know more about his father. His terrifying encounter with Snape and the pensieve had left Harry queasy and positively plagued with questions.
Most importantly, was James as arrogant and cruel as Snape had always claimed?
“He felt as though the memory of it was eating him from inside. He had been so sure that his parents had been wonderful people that he never had the slightest difficulty in disbelieving Snape’s aspersions on his father’s character. Hadn’t people like Hagrid and Sirius told Harry how wonderful his father had been? (Yeah, well, look what Sirius was like himself, said a nagging voice inside Harry’s head. . . . He was as bad, wasn’t he?) Yes, he had once overheard Professor McGonagall saying that his father and Sirius had been troublemakers at school, but she had described them as forerunners of the Weasley twins, and Harry could not imagine Fred and George dangling someone upside down for the fun of it . . . not unless they really loathed them . . . Perhaps Malfoy, or somebody who really deserved it . . .
Harry tried to make a case for Snape having deserved what he had suffered at James’s hands — but hadn’t Lily asked, “What’s he done to you?” And hadn’t James replied, “It’s more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean?” Hadn’t James started it all simply because Sirius said he was bored? Harry remembered Lupin saying back in Grimmauld Place that Dumbledore had made him prefect in the hope that he would be able to exercise some control over James and Sirius. . . . But in the Pensieve, he had sat there and let it all happen. . . .
Harry reminded himself that Lily had intervened; his mother had been decent, yet the memory of the look on her face as she had shouted at James disturbed him quite as much as anything else.” —OotP, chapter 29
Teenage Lily's words played over and over again in his head, like he was on a nauseating merry-go-round.
“You think you’re funny,” she said coldly. “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone.”
“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on…Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.”
“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily. “…you make me SICK.” —OotP, chapter 28
“She had clearly loathed James and Harry simply could not understand how they could have ended up married. Once or twice he even wondered whether James had forced her into it. . . .
For nearly five years the thought of his father had been a source of comfort, of inspiration. Whenever someone had told him he was like James he had glowed with pride inside. And now . . . now he felt cold and miserable at the thought of him.” —OotP, chapter 29
Harry sighed, removed his glasses and cleaned them on his robes, hoping his mind too would miraculously clear with a swipe of the damp dungeon air. All he'd really wanted to do since he'd seen Snape's memory was talk to Sirius.
"He was not sure what Sirius could possibly say to him that would make up for what he had seen in the Pensieve, but he was desperate to hear Sirius’s own account of what had happened, to know of any mitigating factors there might have been, any excuse at all for his father’s behavior...." —OotP, chaper 29
It was like an unscratchable itch; he needed to know, and he had been racking his brain to figure a viable way for the past week. Unfortunately Umbridge had every fireplace in the castle under surveillance, and he couldn't exactly put it all down in a letter. The more he thought about it, the more discouraged he became. It was too risky and unreasonable—
“Hmm wonder who that is?” A drawling voice sounded from around the corner. I hardly ever see anyone down here…”
Harry quickly shoved his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He and Ron looked at each other, gripping their wands inside of their robe pockets.
The dungeons were Slytherin territory, and the last thing either of them felt like dealing with was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad. Gryffindor was losing house points left and right from these Umbridge appointed bullies; just this morning poor Neville lost ten points because Malfoy had insisted he was “breathing too loudly”.
Holding a breath, Harry and Ron nodded at each other and rounded the corner. Harry’s jaw dropped. He was face to face with the spitting image of a teenage Sirius—like the memory had grown a sentient consciousness and climbed right out of Snape’s pensieve.
“Oi! Prongs!” Sirius yelled haughtily, and Harry couldn't help but draw the comparison of the pensieve Sirius shouting at Snape as he was dangling upside-down.
Harry prickled with anxiety. Is this really happening...?
“Where the hell did you go off to, then?” Sirius accused.
In the dim light of the corridor, Sirius had high cheekbones and dark hair that fell elegantly about his shoulders.
He glared at Harry. “We had to fend Peeves off by ourselves! Luckily he found some first years to go after…”
Harry blinked, still not believing his own eyes. He wasn’t sure if this was his manifested worst nightmare or if teenage Sirius actually was standing before him. But that wasn’t even the weirdest part.
He called me—
“Prongs?” Sirius took a step towards Harry, as if reading his mind.
Harry suddenly felt very vulnerable. His occlumency lessons hadn't gone particularly well. Worse off—he'd severely unnerved Snape in the process, whom he never trusted to fiddle around with the contents of his mind to begin with.
On that thought, what were the chances that it had only been a few days since Umbridge interrogated him about Sirius' whereabouts?
"Mr Potter," said Umbridge, "let me remind you that it was I who almost caught the criminal Black in the Gryffindor fire in October. I know perfectly well it was you he was meeting and if I had had any proof neither of you would be at large today, I promise you. I repeat, Mr Potter… where is Sirius Black?" —Umbridge, Ootp, chapter 28
Harry thought of Mad-Eye Moody as he recalled the unpleasant conversation in her office. He was sure Mad-Eye would advise him that this might be some kind of cruel trick to catch him off guard with the purpose of eliciting information.
Ron, who was quite pale, took a step backwards and tugged the sleeve of Harry’s robes. “Harry…have I gone mad or a-are y-you seeing this too—?”
I can’t be hallucinating then, Harry thought quickly, trying to gather all possibilities. Maybe dark magic, or...a boggart?
Was his new worst fear that his father and Sirius were nothing but arrogant schoolyard bullies? He was certainly ruminating on it a lot. Boggarts did feed off fear and prefer dark, dingy places...
Harry considered this as another possible option, grasping his wand very tightly in the pocket of his robes. His eyes fell upon the two other boys behind Sirius.
One was thin, tall, and had a long scar trailing across his nose. Lupin. The other was short, round, and had mousy hair—
Pettigrew.
Harry snapped his jaw shut and tensed up. It had to be a boggart or an intentional, dark magic trick. Only members of the Order and Voldemort truly knew about Pettigrew…
“Prongs? You all right?” the young Sirius knit his brow.
Lupin put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Er—Sirius, I don’t think that’s James.”
Ron let out a small yelp and looked down at his half-eaten food. “I hope this isn't a brownie from greenhouse seven…”
Sirius and Lupin were staring at Harry like they were just as confused as he was. As Harry eyed them both over, they didn't seem spectral or uncanny...and his scar didn’t hurt, so that was a good sign. Despite his initial alarm, an odd, calming sensation consuming his gut told him this strange encounter didn't hold nefarious intentions.
Resolved in this hopeful, somewhat desperate belief, Harry opened and closed his mouth a couple times before managing,
“You’re Sirius Black."
Notes: Okay this chapter was also a bit serious—I'm really getting into the timeline here and expanding on my original plot, so it's going to be a little longer of a ride! The shananigans are coming, I promise! Thank you to everyone supporting this fic, you totally make my day :)
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Read chapter 6 here.
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calmlyerratic · 1 month
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Peter: We're sure that this is...actually the future?
Sirius: *rolls eyes* No shit, Wormy.
Peter: Well it's not exactly the first thing I'd jump to!
Sirius: The spitting image of Prongs is standing just outside the door. And he knows about Moony. So unless you told someone—
Peter: *squeaks* I'd never–!
Sirius: *glares* Then you know the next probable solution.
Remus: Yeah, I trust all three of you and I don't reckon anyone else knows.
Peter: So...if that really is James' kid, w-we could accidentally change the timeline, or u-unborn ourselves!
Sirius and Remus: *silence*
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from my fic, Encounters of the Future Sort
read it here on tumblr or here on Ao3 :)
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calmlyerratic · 2 months
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I keep thinking about how Regulus the star is the heart of the constellation Leo the Lion.
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