Insignificant Little Details
There is a phenomenon where even the most minute change in the world can have large effects everywhere else. This is what we call the butterfly effect. Everyone, even witches and wizards, don't put much stock in it. Perhaps this is because we can never know for sure what each action and word and choice would have turned out like. Sure we can wonder, we can think 'what if?' but we will never know, not really.
Many people and creatures in the wizarding world, Centaurs being just one example, believe in fate instead, believed that everything has been mapped out in the stars for thousands of years.
The story of the friendship of the marauders, the infamous bond between Sirius Black and James Potter, the star crossed love of James and Lily Evans. All these were thought to have been decided by fate long before they happened. Sirius and James were to meet on the train, automatically feel that click between them and then spark a rivalry with Severus Snape and Lily Evans.
But what if one thing were to change?
In 1971, when the eldest Black brother was to start Hogwarts, Sirius and the rest of the Black family were going through Kings Cross Station. All of the family were looking forward to avoid interacting with the filth that was muggles, while Sirius looked around in awe, never been allowed to see muggles before.
The first time around, Sirius was the first to go through the barrier between platform nine and ten, eager to avoid his relatives. But what if he wasn't? What if he was the last? What could this seemingly inconsequential action change in the future?
Well, we're about to find out…and it all started with a muggle losing his keys.
Mr and Mrs Watkins were proud to say that their marriage was working out perfectly fine, thank you very much. They were in love and happy and there was food on the table and right now, surely that was all that mattered.
Mrs Watkins worked at a hospital not far from town, but was currently on pregnancy leave. She was a tall woman with dark skin and eyes, although she did have very pale blonde hair. Mr Watkins was a skinny and gangly man, with a rather large nose.
The Watkins had been together since they were fifteen, high school sweet hearts, married at nineteen and now, at twenty, Mrs Watkins was on her way to having her first child. Both their parents believe that they got together much too young and that it would never work out, they were just waiting for the day for them to show up on the doorstep admitting defeat, but Mr and Mrs Watkins were determined for that not to happen.
Despite being a happy, kind hearted couple, at the moment the Watkins were having money troubles. Mrs Watkins was thinking about quitting her job as a nurse once the baby was born and Mr Watkins was currently in between jobs. They were already cutting down to bare necessities so they didn't have much of an idea of how they were going to deal with a baby on top of that.
On September 1st, a bright, sunny Tuesday, our story starts, there was nothing about the sunny street outside to suggest that Mr Watkins was about to change the whole future of what was thought to be fated in the wizarding world. Mr Watkins frowned as he stood in front of the mirror, holding up a green tie and then a stripy blue one, wondering which one would make someone want to hire him. Mrs Watkins on the other hand, was sitting at the table, munching on a pickle dipped in peanut butter…it was painfully obvious that her cravings were in full swing.
At half past seven, Mr Watkins was rushing about the house in a panic, looking on every surface and in every drawer wondering where his keys could possibly be, he even checked his underwear drawer, but he could see hind nor hair of them, although he did find the watch he lost a few months prior.
"Love, have you seen my keys?" Mr Watkins called absently, as he lay down on the floor to check under the settee.
There was a muffled sound of Mrs Watkins' reply from the kitchen, which must have been a negative as Mr Watkins let out a groan as he stood up, looking about the living room as though a flashing light would appear to direct him to his keys.
Mr Watkins couldn't understand what he could have possibly done with them. He knew he had them yesterday when he drove to the grocery store, Mrs Watkins having sent him on a food run to satiate one of her insane cravings, but after that…nothing. Mr Watkins was incredibly clumsy and so often misplaced things, that was perhaps why he lost his previous job as a secretary, he could never keep the boss' time table in order.
He reached a hand under each of the cushions on the settee, but yet again found no keys, although he did find a hair clip, a biscuit, two old socks and over four pounds in change, which he pocketed before straightening up with a sigh. He scrubbed a hand over his weary face. This was the first job interview he had had in weeks, he couldn't afford to miss it because he misplaced his keys.
"Looking for these?" came a voice from behind him, Mrs Watkins' voice having a slight Spanish lilt.
He turned to see his, very pregnant, wife standing in the doorway, one hand on her swelled stomach and the other stretched in front of her with what he instantly recognised as his keys hooked on her ring finger.
Mr Watkins sighed again, but this time it was in relief. A tired smile appeared on his young face and he ran a hair through his dark hair.
"You," he said, moving forward to kiss his wife, "are amazing."
"I know," Mrs Watkins replied, a small smirk on her lips and her dark eyes filled with mirth. "Dios mio, what would you do without me?"
"Crash and burn, love," Mr Watkins smiled, chuckling slightly.
"And don't you forget it," said Mrs Watkins with a rather smug expression, giving her husband another kiss.
Just five minutes later, Mr Watkins picked up the stack of his credentials, pecked Mrs Watkins on the cheek, and rubbed her swelled belly, whispering goodbye to his unborn child. "I love you," called Mr Watkins as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of the drive.
Mr Watkins sat in the usual morning traffic jam, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked about the road with a frown. "Come on," he muttered in annoyance as the traffic moved forward just a few feet. He couldn't afford to lose this job opportunity, he was not about to ask his parents for money, it was bad enough that he had to listen to their condescending words when they looked at the cheap furniture in his house.
He puffed out a breathe and briefly glanced at the car beside his before looking forward again. For a second, Mr Watkins didn't realise what he had seen, then he jerked his head back to the car to look again. In the window of the car beside his, two wide amber eyes were blinking at him, the eyes of a barn owl, perched in a copper cage. He blinked in surprise and the owl blinked back. What person actually had an owl for a pet? He wondered, but before he could muse on the thought much longer, the traffic finally moved and he lost sight of the car.
When Mr Watkins finally got to his destination, Kings Cross Station, he quickly made his way down the platforms, not noticing that the family with the amber eyed owl had turned up at the same place.
He shifted the pile of credentials to hold them in his left hand as he pulled a ticket from his suit pocket with his right. He was looking for Platform eleven. Mr Watkins sighed when he noticed that he was only at platform four and had just ten minutes to catch his train.
He picked up his pace so that he was in a brisk walk and weaved his way through the station. Mr Watkins was so distracted by the thought of being late that he noticed an eleven year old boy cross his path a second too late and he crashed into him. Mr Watkins' credentials fell to the floor and there was a loud, indignant screech as the boys cage, containing a cream barn owl with speckles on its chest and beady black eyes, crashed to the ground too.
Mr Watkins looked at the boy in surprise as he grabbed his cage and then began to help Mr Watkins gather up his papers. The boy had dark hair and aristocratic features, despite his young age, but that wasn't what surprised the man, it was that not only did the boy have an owl, but he had a rather large trunk too and he was dressed in strange, black robes. Now that Mr Watkins thought about it, there were quite a few strange people on the platform today, almost all of them having a trunk just like the boy's.
It took Mr Watkins a moment to realise that the boy was talking.
"-Wasn't looking where I was going," he was saying sheepishly, as he handed Mr Watkins the last of the papers from the floor and straightened up. The boy then looked over his shoulder nervously, as though scared someone would see him.
Mr Watkins stared at him for a moment before coming out of his stupor, shaking his head quickly, and straightening up also.
"No, no, no, don't even mention it, it was entirely my fault, I was running late, you see," he said kindly, before he looked at his wristwatch and saw that he only had two minutes left to catch the train. "I must dash, I'm sorry again" Mr Watkins said, before quickly hurrying away, not noticing that the strange boy was staring after him in unconcealed awe, having just had his first interaction with a muggle.
Author's Note: This idea just hit me, so I would really like to know whether you think this story is worth continuing. It contains a Slytherin Sirius, Remus/Lily and Sirius/James.
Review whether you think I should continue!