Common Sense in the Wizarding World (Marauders SI/OC)

Chapter 1

The first thought that came to mind was that it was dark. The second thought that came to my mind was the fact that I couldn't move.

Now, most people, when faced with a situation such as the one I'm currently faced with would panic. Surprisingly that didn't happen. I, myself, was questioning why it didn't happen. I knew that even though I was no coward, I wasn't stupid enough not to panic when I found myself in a dark, cramped place with no recollection of being put there. Thank god, that I wasn't claustrophobic, or I could see myself dying of a terrible panic attack.

Anyway, I did what any sensible person would do in my situation. I opened my mouth and screamed hoping to grab someone's attention. If someone had kidnapped me, I would at least like to know their demands rather than sitting in the dark unable to move.

At least, I tried, to scream, but quickly realized that I wasn't able to. While wasn't this fan fucking tastic. So, without being able to do anything I just sat and waited, pondering my surroundings. It was dark and cramped, but now that I took the time to examine it, I realized why I felt no panic. It felt right to be in the cramped dark space. Now I could truly feel the swell of emotion known as fear start to form in my gut. What type of drug did they inject me with to make me feel safe and dare I say happy for being kidnapped and probably chained in a dark cramped room?

After contemplating for a while, I slowly felt my body shutting down and telling me to go to sleep. I struggled, I really did, but it was a losing battle and surely enough I knocked out.

I woke up to the whole room shaking. See, in this situation most people would be panicking. I was panicking, I assure you, but another emotion predominately grasped my mind and that was rage. First people, assumingly, kidnapped me and forced me to stay in a dark room, for god knows how long. Then they had the audacity to leave me in a room doomed to collapse on itself.

People say that before they die, they see their life flash before their eyes. Knowing there was nothing I could do I simply closed my eyes and imagined my life. I was a 20-year-old boy who was born and raised in the United States of America. I was born to two parents who truly cared for their child. The only problem was that they didn't really care about each other and each argument they had truly affected me as I grew up. Money was never an issue, but it truly felt as if I grew up raising myself rather than being raised by my parents. I didn't have any huge aspirations or any dreams that would leave my name in the history books (as if I would want my name in a kid's history book that no one would read). I just had a simple goal, dream, or aspiration…whatever you want to call it.

I wanted a family that I could support and that loved me as I would them. Just as I was about to enter my third year of college and (hopefully) continue on my way to medical school, I suddenly woke up in the space in which my story began and thus we were here.

My name was….? I suddenly fully panicked for the first time ever since I had woken up in this god-awful place. I had forgotten my NAME! A name is something that you are given ever since you are born. It is bound to you and it is how the world recognizes you. Your name is as important as your soul (if it exists). Losing your name, means losing your place in the world, and losing your place in the world means you have nothing else.

Okay maybe I'm overexaggerating, but can you blame me? I've been locked in a dark room unable to move for however long and suddenly I realize I've forgotten my NAME! Before I can rant even further, I see the light. I even welcome it as nothing can be worse than being locked in the dark room for any longer. I reach for it and suddenly my eyes which became so accustomed to darkness felt like they were staring directly into the sun.

For a couple of seconds, I hear nothing, still adjusting to the amount of light I was suddenly exposed to. Then all of a sudden, I hear "It's a boy!".

Normally I am a very polite person. But before all of this I had woken up in a place that was dark and couldn't move at all. I had literally been stranded there a long time just to almost die from a freaky earthquake. Those couldn't be called normal circumstances, so of course I didn't respond normally.

"Of course, I'm a BOY, JACKASS! You want me to drop my pants and prove it to you?!" Like I said not normal circumstances. Anyway, it didn't really matter because all that came out of my mouth was what sounded like gurgling.

Now, that didn't sound right at all. After struggling for a couple of seconds I opened my eyes and noticed that I was surrounded by GIANTS! I mean these people looked like they could step on skyscrapers like I could step on bugs. At this point I finally realized what had happened. I had been abducted! No less by the mythical creatures known as giants. I know this isn't what I should have assumed, and most people would have guessed (correctly) that they were reborn, but I was a little crazy from staying in the dark room all alone except for my thoughts. As my hearing finally cleared up, I saw and heard what looked like a man holding me and looking at me reverently. "My son, my son" he whispered, sounding like a broken record. That's when I realized that on January 21st, 1960 (which I had found out later) I, the newly named Wes Reis, was born.

(4 Years Later)

I was born to an affluent businessman whose name was John Reis and his stay home wife Mary Reis. I was their only child and like every only child of an affluent family I was spoiled rotten. It was slightly weird for me to go through childhood again because even though I had lost most of my memories I still knew that I had grown up before.

I still remembered miscellaneous things such as reading books, but nothing concrete. I didn't suddenly gain eidetic memory (which would have been AWESOME) and my IQ didn't suddenly skyrocket. It was weird because even though I knew how to act like an adult and could control myself, it felt natural for me to act my age (4 at this point if you must know). I theorize (and I mean bullshitting with whatever I could) that even though my soul (because COME ON, it had to exist. I literally had reincarnated) was the one I had in my previous life it had changed.

The change probably happened when I was somehow put in the body which would be known as Wes Reis. I didn't forcibly take it over, but rather fused with it. Wes became me (whatever my name was) and I became Wes.

When I wasn't trying to, I actually acted my age naturally and again, I theorize, that due to my body being that of a kid, the part of my soul which was concurrent with that of a kid was dominant.

Don't get me wrong, if I wanted to, I could act like an adult, but the thing was I didn't want to. I loved my new life, not for the money, but because of my parents. John and Mary both loved me and thankfully their marriage was made out of their choice rather than familial obligations. I know that I could have outed myself as a genius and become one of those kids who got their doctorate at the age of 18, but again I didn't want to.

As pretentious as it sounded, I knew I was set for life in the financial aspect. To give you an idea of how rich we were, we had multiple houses throughout the UK as well as overseas. Yes, MULTIPLE, as in more than one! Apparently, my dad was a competent businessman (of course he was, we were rich!) who smartly invested his family inheritance and thus more than quadrupled its value. He had connections throughout the whole world and many shares in different companies. So, yeah, I was set for money.

Now that I've talked a bit about my family, I just want to reference how WEIRD it was to be alive in the 1960s. I remembered enough to know that I had lived in the 21st century, so the regression of technology was really strange for me. We had a telephone that had those fancy dials and a computer that was huge. Again, I was in for a huge cultural shock when I was old enough to explore the outside world. I didn't really mind. I was never a huge gamer and preferred to go outside with friends rather than being stuck inside.

Now I will say it right now, I do not remember how computers from the 21st century were built. First of all, I was a student going into the medical field and knew next to nothing about technology (except for a smartphone and things like that). As for things in the medical field, I knew nothing that was significant. After all, I hadn't even finished my undergraduate degree and entered medical school. I knew I wasn't anything extraordinary. My past life's dream was still my dream in my current life and that was just to live happily.

See, I had never really considered the possibility of the world/universe I was in to be anything different than my previous life. There was never any real reason to do so. I lived a normal, if not somewhat luxurious lifestyle.

Even though I lived in the United States in my previous life, and now in the UK, both were English speaking countries and to me there wasn't much difference between the educational systems.

Sadly, there were things prevalent in my second life that I hadn't had to witness in my first life, such as racism. Though I was a quarter Indian from my mother's side all it did was make my skin slightly darker. Other than that, I looked like any other 4-year-old-British kid. My mother and I didn't really have to deal with racism, because like I said before it wasn't that obvious, and the saying "money talks" was proven to be true.

No one really wanted to get on the bad side of a hard-core businessman who had connections all over the world and wholeheartedly loved his family. Racism as a whole wasn't super obvious in the United Kingdom, but it was there however minor.

Anyway, the story of my life really begins after I was approximately 4.5 years old. It was midway through the year 1964 in the month of June and me and my family were in the process of moving. For all my life, my family had lived in our large apartment in downtown London. We of course went on vacation to different places at which we had houses, but during the year we lived in London because it was easier for my dad to do work.

The reason why we were currently moving was yours truly. Education for children began at 5 years old, an age that I was approaching rapidly. Though my mother knew I was slightly mature for my age (ha if she REALLY knew) she didn't believe that Central London was a good spot for a child's education. Her and dad had been discussing the situation for the past year and they decided that we would move into a house in a rural neighborhood which was said to have a decent education system.

It also wouldn't be too far from London since my dad might have to go into the city to conduct business. I'm pretty sure my mom also hoped by moving to a community, that I would finally make some friends. Like I said before because of the way I am, I acted my age of 4.5 more often than not.

I don't mind making lifelong friends my age, but THERE IS A LIMIT to my patience. Imagine my situation and just picture it. The first day I was taken to a nearby park near central London at the young age of 3, I tried to make friends because I knew it would make my mom happy.

Even if they weren't really friend material, I wouldn't mind finding potential minio-, acquaintances. I MEANT to say acquaintances. Anyway, I'm sitting at a swing minding my own business when a kid walks over to me. He stares at me for a couple of minutes and then randomly says "James". I assume that, that was his name and I hold out my hand and respond in a sophisticated matter. "Wes".

Now you would think everything was going well and it was…. until the little bugger decided to stick his finger in his nostril and dig for…..gold. He then was about to grab my hand with the EXACT hand that was attached to the EXACT finger that had just looked for gold and had found it. Nope, Nope. "Houston, this is Wes, departing swiftly". I ran for it heading towards my mom and urging her to take me home. We walked by the kid and a woman who I presume to be his mother scolding him. He gave me the most betrayed look and I pretended not to notice. I mean I knew it was petty to hold a grudge, especially at a 3-year-old, but COME ON. My excuse was my physical age and left it at that. Anyway, I eventually felt guilty and came back on a later date to try and make amends, but he never appeared. Seemed like the family was only visiting which was a shame.

Morning of the Move

"Good Morning Dad, Mom" I whisper while rubbing my eyes clean of whatever may be in them. "Good Morning, Wes" my parents greet me in a synchronous fashion. My dad ruffles my hair, and my mom comes around from the kitchen table and gives me a hug and a kiss. I quickly sit down at the dining table and chow down on some waffles. Thank GOD, waffles existed in the current day and age. My dad questions me, asking about how I feel about finally moving. "I'm excited dad. Can't wait to see what the future brings" I reply in the most sarcastic tone. See, usually, it would strange for a 4.5-year-old to talk sarcastically, but my parents had already accepted the fact that I was more mature for my age than others. They honestly didn't see anything weird about it and appreciated it because I could "carry my own weight" which amounted to me setting my bed every morning.

After a couple of hours with all our things packed into moving boxes and placed in a truck we got into our car and started a two-hour journey to our new community. One which I didn't know the name of (I had been told it, but I wasn't really paying attention). Who doesn't love surprises? The answer: Meeeeeeee.

Time Skip -Two Hours

I had fallen asleep in the car, because what else could I do? I mean this wasn't the 21st century where kids my age were constantly on their own personal tablets that let them stream anything while permanently damaging their eyes. What? Its TRUE! Well, I fell asleep the beginning of the car ride and then was woken up by mom because we were almost at the neighborhood. I got up just to see us pass by a sign that looked like it had seen much better days.

WELCOME TO COKEWORTH

In the back of my mind, I felt like I knew the place, but eventually ignored it. I knew I never really visited the UK in my last life so there was no way I would know anything about a random community that existed in the 1960s, even if I had all my memories. Once in the community we passed by houses that looked all the same.

They all seemed to be two stories tall and have a mid-sized lawn with a couple of cars parked in front. There were a couple of parks as well, filled with children. I knew my mom was happy and I then and there questioned myself if I had been that anti-social. Then I realized the answer to my question was a resounding YES and decided that I would try harder to make friends in order to make my mom happy.

Though I loved both my parents equally, I was a bit of a momma's boy. If anyone ever asks though, I will deny it to my last breath, and no one will get any other answer from me.

We finally pulled up to a house that looked just like every other that we passed by, if not a bit cleaner. My mom got out and opened the car door while I undid the belts that were attached to my car seat.

Surprisingly, they were just invented, but not yet required by law. My parents decided to get one though just because it looked like it would give me a better experience in the car, and I'll tell you as kids we really don't appreciate them enough even one as crappy as the one I had. Well, that's a story for another time.

I got out of the car and the first thing that I did was look over at the neighbors. We were in the middle of two houses. The one to the left of the house seemed to be the home to a pair of elderly folks. The reason why I said that is because they were on two rocking chairs in their front porch. They waved at us and I waved back since they seemed nice enough.

I had never really met my grandparents from either side of my family. I'm pretty sure my parents were ostracized for some reason, but I never really bothered to investigate it. I mean I had two loving parents who cherished me, and I them. What more did I need?

I looked over at the house to the left and it seemed like the residents weren't present. There wasn't a car or anything and the lights were off. Eh, I'm pretty sure I'll eventually meet them.

We walked into the house together and the first thing that I noticed was that the place looked really modern (for the 1960s). The kitchen was big enough for all of us to fit in and it was open to the living room. The living room was pretty spacious and there was a bathroom nearby with a shower, so people didn't have to go upstairs. A bedroom existed next to the bathroom and there was a sliding glass door that led to the backyard which was decently spacious.

The stairs to go upstairs were actually next to the front door, so me wanting to see my room as soon as possible, decided to race up them. I briefly heard my mom yelling at me to be careful while my dad held her laughing. Once I got to the top of the stairs, I saw another living room space. To the right of the stairs there were two bedrooms and a bathroom. One of the bedrooms was the master bedroom with a shower and tub built in. To the left of the stairs there was one bedroom with a bathroom right next to. I walked into what I understood to be my room. It was decently big, easily as much as my old bedroom, with my bed already tucked in the corner. All the major furniture had already been unpacked and unloaded by the movers so all we had to do was unpack the miscellaneous stuff.

Overall, I was satisfied with my bedroom knowing that I really wasn't going to change much. I wasn't like other kids who liked to decorate their rooms with posters. All I really needed was my bed with some sheets, a blanket and a fan. With all of that I was set. Let it never be said that I was a needy child. After scoping out my bedroom I returned downstairs to spend the rest of the day with my parents unpacking stuff.

It was already past 5 by the time we got to the house so after unloading everything and organizing our clothes it became 8. We had a late dinner and decided to turn in for an early night because all of us were tired. I was tucked in by my parents into my bed. Both of them gave me a kiss on my head and turned off the light closing the door behind them as they left. I drifted off determined to explore my new neighborhood as soon as possible.

Time Skip-1 week

After a week of living in my neighborhood I could finally say I got the lay of the land. It was, for a lack of a better term, boring. There wasn't anything to really do. Sure, I could go to the park, and I did with my mom, but there really wasn't anyone there to play with.

We had moved right at the beginning of summer vacation so many of the families had left for vacation (duh). I can say that though I didn't really meet a lot of people the elderly couple that lived in the house to the left of us, Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, were super nice to me.

They invited us over a couple days after we moved for dinner. Mr. Jameson had been a veteran of the Second World War, but midway he had to be honorably discharged due to injuring his right leg which eventually led to a permanent limp.

My dad and him started talking about business in general, something Mr. Jameson was also passionate in and I could tell the conversation was going to take a while. Mrs. Jameson was an angel who honestly acted like she adopted me the second I had walked into her home.

I wouldn't mind either. The chocolate chip cookies that she baked for dinner were to DIE for. One key fact about me from my past life as well as present is my undying love for chocolate chip cookies. I'm serious, if someone wanted to be my friend all they had to do was pass me a chocolate chip cookie.

Anyway, her and my mom got into a serious discussion about cooking and started to exchange recipes. Though there was a decent age gap between my parents, and the Jameson's I was glad to see them making friends with our neighbors.

Don't misunderstand my parents did have friends, but it seemed like none of the close ones lived in the UK. Our neighbors from our previous neighborhood had kept to themselves.

Anyway, they informed us that our neighbors from the house to the right of us were on vacation and were slated to return in two weeks. I knew that they mentioned the name of the family, but I was too entertained by the Looney Tunes cartoons playing on television to care. I didn't really see how it concerned me unless they had kids my age and if they did, I knew I would find out in a couple of weeks.

Anyway, like I said, Mrs. Jameson had taken a shine to me (like she had to one of my missing neighbor's children, I had been informed) and let me visit whenever I wanted (which I did, they were pretty awesome).

Mr. Jameson didn't really mind me since I was quiet enough and whenever I did visit, we sat together and watched whatever was on the television. I had also found a nice patch of grass right next to a decently clean lake. I dubbed it the "Wes Spot" (very creative) and spent a lot of time taking naps and reading books.

I also spent a lot of time skipping rocks. I will mention that it felt like I had a talent for skipping rocks that I hadn't really explored in my past life. I had honestly just started to skip rocks, but could tell the number of skips I was getting kept increasing every day.

The first day at the "Wes Spot" I was getting around 4 skips. The second day I got around 8. On the third day I reached my current record of over 12 skips. I honestly didn't know if that was a lot, but what I DID know was that something was fishy. I did reach college in my previous life and knew that even if skipping rocks had something to do with technique it also had a lot to do with strength.

Now as a boy not even at the age of 5, I didn't really have much strength. So how was it possible that my skips were increasing every day? I threw the rocks the same way every single time, so I was honestly utterly confused.

Then I decided to do whatever a young boy should do when he had a question he wanted to solve. I tried to experiment with it. I first gathered up different sized rocks and laid them down from smallest to largest.

I made sure that each group had at least three rocks just to make sure I could repeat the trials over and over again. After finally organizing the rocks I had three different groups.

Predictability, they were named smallest, normal, and large. Then I took my time throwing one rock from each group with the same technique. I really couldn't control my power so I decided to throw each rock with the most amount of force that I could. I just want to clarify that there was a substantial difference between the big rocks and the smallest rocks. The smallest ones were like pebbles while the big rocks were a little hard to lift. I knew that, logically, the higher the weight the lower amount of skips the rock would go.

To my surprise, all of the rocks went around the same number of skips. Even the one that I had difficulty lifting! Okay now I was kind of confused. I knew now that there definitely was an outside factor I was missing.

This was further proven by getting the same results after redoing the trial with the other rocks I had gathered. Honestly at the end of the day as I was walking home (a quick 5-minute walk), my finger was scratching the back of my head.

I kept going over the scenario in my head and couldn't come up with anything. Now, the idea of superpowers did come into my head, but quickly fled my mind. Though I had inadvertently time traveled into a new body, there really was no proof that I had gone to an alternative dimension rather than my own. Even all the dates of the previous World Wars were the same. As I reached home and got scolded by my mom for my dirty hands (consequences of trying to figure out if I had superpowers) I quickly washed up and had dinner.

Afterwards I went to bed since all the time I spent on my "experiment" had really tired me out which didn't actually make much sense at all. Sure, the large rocks were slightly hard to lift, but that shouldn't have tired me out, should it have? Anyway, I snuggled into my bed drifting off hoping that I wasn't going crazy.

Time Skip – 5 Days Later

I have a major announcement to make. Even now I can barely hold the excitement in. I can literally feel every cell in my body shivering with anticipation (well I can't, but you know what I mean, rite?).

I'm pretty sure I have SUPERPOWERS!

I still can't believe it now. For the last couple of days, the only thing that had been on my mind was the experiment I did with skipping rocks. So, of course, now that I had been presented with the possibility of having superpowers, I decided that further testing was required.

The first thing I tried to do was levitate a small pebble in front of me for a couple of hours.

Guess what happened?! Absolutely nothing other getting a red face.

Well, it seemed like I didn't have telekinesis. Eventually a small break came when I analyzed the experiment with the skipping rocks. A common connection that I had witnessed in my past life was that superheroes who had superpowers that were more entwined with the mind usually had them connected to thoughts (duh!). To simplify it even further their mentalities and thoughts directly affected their powers and such. I guess a key example would be Jean Grey, the Phoenix.

I knew that I was trying to use a comic book as a guideline but come on! I had literally been reborn in the past. I swear, I was half expecting to suddenly hear a ding! and see a personalized system booting up.

Anyway, I decided to continue on the same track that I had done with skipping rocks, but instead of skipping them, I decided to throw them in the air with all my might. Again, I used three different sized rocks and repeated the trials multiple times. This time, even though I could tell that all of them didn't reach the exact same height, they were still a lot higher and closer than it should have been possible.

I knew that I didn't really have any physical abilities, so I focused on my thoughts.

What did my two successful experiments have in common?

I had analyzed my actions in depth and still hadn't been able to find the correlation between them. After pondering my actions for a couple of days I had decided to take a break. It wasn't like I didn't have all the time in the world. I was still a child!

So, I decided that taking a nap at the Wes Spot was something that could help me relax. I was doing just that when I felt something poke my cheek.

I ignored it thinking it had been my imagination until I heard what sounded like a "humph" and felt a much sharper poke. THAT had gotten my attention.

I opened my eyes rubbing them trying to see who would DARE interrupt my relaxing nap. The first thing I noticed was that the person had shoulder length red hair. They had a pale complexion (maybe from being in too long?) with red lips.

The now identified girl had a pout on her face as she waited for me to finally regain my bearings. Me, after finally regaining my full visibility, looked straight into her eyes and noticed that they were green. Emerald green. "Huh, strange eyes". They were pretty cool I had to admit.

"Hi?" I tried to say, but it came out more like a question. The girl took that as I sign and replied with a hello as well. We sat there staring at each other. Eventually I decided to introduce myself and told her my name.

She then replied with her name. You know, learning someone's name isn't supposed to be special. Actually, scratch that. It could be special if that person was going to be your best friend, wife, or maybe something as simple as your brother.

Sometimes learning someone's name could be a big surprise just because how different it is from other people. Honestly the girl's name wasn't that weird. It was relatively normal. But then why had it felt like my head had been hit with a sledgehammer?"

"Oh! My name is Lily Evans"

AN: And scene! Yup after not posting on this site for 2 years (was it 2 years?), I finally gained some inspiration and started writing a Harry Potter SI. Who doesn't like a good SI? I'll be honest I'm a big SI reader, but I've always had a couple of problems with them:

They always (and I mean Always) find a way to make their character OP

There is little character development

They make their antagonists stupid af (I mean come on; Voldemort should at least have a brain)

Anyway, I'll tell you guys right now, Wes isn't going to be hella OP. He IS going to be way stronger than the average wizard, but at the send time not as strong as Voldemort or Dumbledore. Maybe not as strong as Lily either. I will have his strengths lie in a completely different direction (Hint: You guys have already seen a glimpse of it in this chapter). He does remember the books, but not all the information (they won't really matter too much because this is all set before them anyway). In this story, I WILL be relating regular science and Biology to Magic. I've already come up with a couple theories on how and just need to completely sketch it out. Voldemort will have a brain, and I'll try my best to show that and there WILL be character development. I've never understood why SI's never really take advantage of having a new life and try to fix their past life regrets. Anyway, I'm doing this during the Marauder's Era because I think that it has a lot of untapped potential. I've never, and I mean NEVER seen a male SI done in the Marauder's Era and hope you guys enjoy it to. Last, but not least make sure to comment what House you guys think Wes will be sorted into, and please give me your reasons. It probably won't change what I have in my mind, but it will be interesting to see what guys think. Other than that, I will try to upload weekly and get this story to a respectable word count fast. One last last thing to note, is that in this story you will have a main character who uses his BRAIN to fight the enemy not just brawn. He will essentially be the brain that the Order of Phoenix was missing in cannon. If all of this interests, you guys I hope to see you in the next update. Peace!

-Blackbelt 219