Disclaimer:- Okay, this isn't my work! If it was, I'd be living in a mansion and not have to go to school! Don't sue! Any characters you recognise belong to J. K. Rowling. Any you don't, well, they're mine! DON'T SUE!

Hello faithful fanfic friends! This is my version of what happens when a girl from our time and world (strange that she's a bit like me!) suddenly wakes up, in St. Mungo's decades into the past. In the year 1980 to be exact, summertime. You'll find out all you need to as we go along, but...

Voldemort rising since 1977. Leave Hogwarts end of June 1982. Harry born in July 1987. Voldemort attacked the Potters Hallowe'en 1988. Harry goes to Hogwarts September 1998.

I think that's what's essential. At least it is for me so I get the timing right! Anyway, on with the story.

Technically this is two stories, but linked. So there are two parts. You'll find out what the second part is called later on – I don't know yet! So the overall title is...

Curses, Prophecies and the Elemental Guardians

And it starts as...

Part One – The Elemental Guardians, a.k.a. Voldemort's Mistakes

Sorry if I offend anyone by Kat's comments in this. I just don't like Bush or Blair. The war on Iraq was wrong. I reckon we in Britain should take the idea of only two terms of power for a prime minister. Blair's been in power too long and it's made him cocky. I'm not overly fond of him because of these stupid wars. Why can't they sort things out peacefully?

Just ignore my ramblings. Please.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 – Waking up

30th July 2003:

Kathryn Orenda grinned and turned off her computer. Eighteen reviews in one night! It was great! (A/N: Hint, hint!)

"Kathryn? Are you still up?" A female voice demanded.

She swallowed. "Uh, yes Mum."

"Why?"

"Lost track of time?"

"Have you at least done all your homework?"

"God, Mum, what do you take me for? A boy?" Kathryn scowled. Her opinion of boys was exceedingly low, owing to the fact that, having moved areas between Years 6 and 7, her SATs results had not been sent to the correct school. When she was in Year 9, she had found this out when wanting to know what she was predicted to get. But they had not been available, leading the boys who sat near her in Maths to endlessly tease her and decide she was a Russian spy, completely ignoring the fact that she knew no Russian and was born in the Isle of Man.

She heard her mother laugh. "That's a yes, then?"

"Of course it's a yes. What time is it anyway?"

"Quarter past eleven."

Kathryn gasped. "Really? God, I really did lose track of time. Oh well, I haven't got school for another five weeks." She grinned. "And even when I go back, I don't have to wear that God-damned uniform."

"Language, Kathryn!" Her mother reprimanded her sharply.

"It's a good job Bri is a sound sleeper or we'd wake her up." Kathryn grinned, climbing the stairs. "Where's Dad?"

"Your father is still in his study, working." Her mother explained.

His study was in the converted cellar. It was quiet down there and even Kathryn playing Mis-teeq on full blast couldn't disturb him.

"At least I know where I get it from." Kathryn informed her.

The woman laughed. "Get on with ya. Have you finished the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I finished the same weekend Dad bought it, remember? And I didn't burn, thank God." She'd spent the weekend on their decking in the back garden in her dad's hammock, reading.

"Well then, can I have it? No one will let me read it!"

"I think Bri's got it. You could try reading it to her. That way you've the best of both worlds."

Bri was eight years old and still enjoyed having stories read to her.

Her mother smiled. "Maybe."

"Hey, Orenda, down an' gimme twen'y!" Kathryn did a passable impression of her P.E. teacher, an American wannabe (A/N: I'm going on drill sergeants – I've not seen any of the mad British ones!). "This ain't nothin' to smile about!"

The woman laughed. "Oh, you! To bed with you!"

"Nah, to shower with me." Kathryn grinned, ducking her mother's swipe at the head, and launching herself into the bathroom.

She cleaned her teeth and then showered, scrubbing a day's worth of sweat, dead skin and pollution from her skin. Then she took an antibiotic to keep the acne that had scarred areas of skin at bay and combed her wet hair.

She wished she were different. She knew she wasn't ugly, but she never saw herself as pretty either. But then, she didn't know the truth of the matter.

Groaning, she entered her room in Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. For a summer night, there was a startling amount of fog outside. But it was also a typical summer night in that it was inordinately warm. She thrust her windows open and didn't bother closing the curtains, glad that there were no streetlights on her road.

A gust of fresh air hit her and she sucked it in gratefully. Glancing at the clock she slid under a single sheet that was her covering for bed.

'Twelve o'clock,' she thought. 'Isn't it funny how in almost every book, Harry's awake to see the very start of his birthday?'

She grinned. If it were real and following their times, technically, Harry would be sixteen now. But then, it wasn't real, and she had read enough fanfics to know that no one knew what was going to happen next.

As she fell asleep, that copious fog entered her room. As she breathed in oxygen, so did she breathe in that fog. That fog which contained more than mere water. It contained magic.

###

31st July 1980:

Kathryn's eyes fluttered open. What a strange dream! Being dragged back, as though she were somewhere she shouldn't be.

And as she looked up, she realised she was.

This wasn't her bedroom. The room was sterile, white, bare, not the fresh, sunny clutter that was her room, with its dusky blue ceiling.

She sat up.

And looked down. She was wearing a white hospital gown, but what surprised her more was herself. She wasn't that slim, was she? A mirror was on one wall. She stood up and walked, shakily, towards it.

The person that stared back at her was familiar, but not her. She was taller, 5ft 9 instead of 5ft 6. And slimmer, more elegant, though still curvy. The hair, though a mess, was identical, but for being several inches longer and curlier. The face was sharper-boned, the bone structure perfect, though her nose was no different. The mouth was fuller and the brown eyes wider, more innocent, but also more intense, with much longer lashes. And her skin... Her skin was flawless, a fair English rose complexion, though there was more rosiness in her cheeks. It was as though someone had taken her basic appearance and enhanced it to the point where she was extremely attractive.

There was a hairbrush beside her bed. Taking it, Kathryn swiftly brushed her locks, expecting the curls to go frizzy as they usually did. Instead, they settled back into soft curls and ringlets. She frowned.

For what appeared to be hospital, this was definitely weird. She did not have an IV stuck in her hand like she had had when she had her appendix out. She did have a bracelet though.

She read it, hoping it would shed some light.

Kathryn Farrah Orenda, it read. She smiled. That was her name. But then it read: Bed 7, Spell Damage Ward, St. Mungo's Hospital.

"What in the name of all things holy..." Her voice trailed off.

St. Mungo's? But that... that was in the world of Harry Potter! Fictional, made up, a story from the mind of J.K. Rowling.

Groaning, and thinking someone was playing an exceptionally cruel joke, she opened the door.

The corridor was quiet (she had been in a room of her own), few people were around. As she walked down the corridor, someone whistled.

She whipped round, her eyes flashing. A boy with black hair that fell elegantly over his face and fathomless grey eyes grinned.

"Love the gown, makes you look really sexy." He grinned.

"Unless you want to be in here wearing one of these gowns yourself, I'd suggest you keep your sarky comments to yourself." She snapped.

"Bee in your bonnet?" He asked.

"Brain in your head?" She retorted.

He, unexpectedly, laughed. "Not bad, for a girl." He grinned.

"Boys, such sexist pigs!" She complained, placing a hand to her temple.

"Who are you anyway?" The boy asked.

She was about to reply when a high-pitched voice squealed. "Kathryn! You're awake!"

She turned again to feel two small people throw themselves at her. Behind them were a man and woman who she didn't recognise, but appeared to be in their mid-twenties.

She shoved the kids away from her roughly. "Who the hell are you?"

"Kathryn? Don't you know us?" The woman asked.

"No. Who the hell is pulling this prank? All I know is I went to sleep last night, in my room, in the real world. I wake up, and I'm in a hospital bed, I look like some artist's been sculpting me to look better and I'm St. Mungo's Hospital, which doesn't God-damn exist! I swear, this is the kind of thing I'd expect from Jack, or Elliot! In fact, no, I'd expect in from the God-damn Marauders, except they don't exist anymore than St. Mungo's hospital and the world of Harry Potter! What are you going to tell me? That I'm actually a witch who went into a coma after being inexplicably attacked, only people suspect it might be because of some unknown or very powerful magical power, and it was Voldemort, even though he wasn't actually going to steadily rise in power for another three years?" Kathryn said it all very quickly and paused to gulp in breath. "Even better, I'm in the past, which means I know the future of your world because I read them in the Harry Potter books by J. K. Rowling and I've been thrust into the bit just after James makes a prat of himself in front of Lily and I'm now supposed to learn something like five years worth of spells in the summer so I can get to Hogwarts and be up to their standard? But I don't know much about this entire thing, because I only know the future of this world, and not much about the present because Rowling's quite cagey about the past except for that bit in Snape's pensieve, which is why there are so many God-damn fanfics on the 'Net about it. Am I right?"

The boy behind her nodded. "Well you are about some things. James did make a prat of himself in front of Lily, after the..."

"Defence Against the Dark Arts exam. I know, that was in there too. You were joking about the question about werewolves, and teasing Peter because he couldn't remember, even though he..." She stopped. "Wait a minute, I can't exactly go blabbing about that, can I?"

"No, and how do you know that?"

"I know pretty much all about that memory. Anyway, since you know about that, you'd be Sirius, right?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

"Great." She rolled her eyes. She had cried over Sirius' death in the fifth book.

"But funnily enough, the Marauders and St. Mungo's Hospital do exist."

"As does Voldemort. Shit." Kathryn massaged her head again. She was developing a headache. She looked at the other people. "I know him because he was in the books, but who the hell are you?"

The woman's eyes saddened. Expressive, large brown eyes with long lashes. She stared.

"My God, you're my... parents?"

"Yes, we are, Kathryn." The woman told her.

"You're so young!"

"Wizards and witches age more slowly. My family ages naturally until we get to about twenty-five and then age at half the speed." The man explained.

"So you look like you're twenty-five for another twenty-five years?"

"Yes."

"Good grief." She turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "And you're..." she looked down at the two small people. "You're my siblings."

"Yeah. I'm Leila and he's Paul." The older of the two, a girl, grinned.

"How old are you?"

"I'm eleven. I'm starting Hogwarts this year."

"And you?" She looked down at Paul.

"I've six." He told her.

She looked at her parents. "How long have I been in a coma? How did it happen?"

"You were playing in the woods with Sirius. You ran off and stumbled into a clearing somewhere. You-know-who had not yet started his ascent, but he was gathering followers, creating the evil that binds them. We believe he tortured you, or tried to strip you of your powers. You were exceptionally strong, even as a child. You had other powers, of which he could only dream. Whatever he did, it produced a warning signal. Sirius came and found us, but by the time were got there, You-know-who was long gone. You were in a coma. You have been for five years."

Sirius was staring. "Kathryn Orenda? Why didn't you say?"

"Because I didn't think I knew you. Why?"

"You were one of my best friends when I was little. You and..."

"James Potter, right?"

"Yeah. This is great!" Sirius grinned. "Another hot girl at school!"

She raised a brow. "And I thought these gowns were unflattering."

Sirius grinned. "Depends on the girl wearing them."

"God, you're as bad as you sounded." She looked at her parents. "And for crying out loud, call him Voldemort, will you? Fear of a name only heightens the fear of the thing itself. Besides, it's not like saying his name is going to bring him down on us."

Her mother said, "But..."

"Believe me, if it did, the Harry Potter books would've finished already."

"Harry Potter? There's only a James Potter." The man frowned.

She grinned. "Well, I was reading about the future, right? I mean, I was in 2003 when I fell asleep. But I guess I'm gonna have to talk to someone before I start giving out leaflets telling you all about the future. Besides, I know more about the Muggle future. Like someone's a bit snide to the normal American people because they vote George W. Bush to the presidency, and he's thicker than two short planks. And they're going to bomb Iraq. Mind you, so are we, because Tony Blair supports it, so he's not too bright either. I mean, who supports a war? That sort of thing."

"Oh." The man frowned. "Anyway, I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves. I'm Olden Orenda, your father. This is Elise, your mother."

Kathryn smiled. "Pleased to meet you. Now, can anyone explain to me why I'm prettier here than I was in what you say was a coma? And also how I lived sixteen years in five years? And about what the hell is supposed to happen now?"

"I think we'll leave that until the Healers have had a look at you. I'm surprised to see you walking and talking so well. Mostly people's muscles waste away with not moving."

Kathryn shrugged. "I dunno, I've always been a quick healer. Well, I was in the other place. Sorry, how do I know this is real?"

A hand whacked her round the head.

"OW!" She yelled.

"See, it is real." Sirius grinned. He had been the owner of the hand.

"SIRIUS BLACK!" She yelled. Then looked at her parents. "D'you know his middle name?"

"Um, Calhoun, I think." Elise replied, trying to keep a smile from her face. The daughter she knew and loved clearly hadn't been much different in her other life. And had obviously kept the same name.

"SIRIUS CALHOUN BLACK!" Kathryn screeched. "I am going to shove your head in the lion enclosure at London Zoo and give them an extra meal! I am going hang, draw and quarter you! I'll scalp you and make you eat it! I'll pull out your eyeballs and roll them in dirt before shoving them back in. I'll..."

"Have to catch me first." He grinned and sped off.

"Please, clothes?" Kathryn begged her parents.

Olden smiled. "You definitely aren't any different. Except I think it was him chasing you last time you spoke." He pulled out a wand.

"We pureblood, Muggle-blood, half and half?" Kathryn wanted to know.

"I'm pureblooded, your mother's a Muggle-born witch." Olden smiled.

Kathryn grinned. "Whoo-hoo! Take that, bigoted Moldyvort and your pathetic Entrail Eaters! We're the strongest there is!" She then noticed that she was wearing jeans and a cut-off sweater. "You couldn't make the jeans boot-cut?"

At that moment, the jeans changed to exactly what she wanted – boot-cut and low-waisted. She thought nothing of it and sped off in the direction Sirius had run.

Her parents frowned.

"That wasn't you, was it?" Olden asked.

"No. She has wandless magic, though she doesn't know it. That's what he was after, and what he didn't get." Elise smiled. "She's going to be a powerful witch."

Olden sighed. "Yeah, but if she's anything like she used to be, and Sirius, she's also going to be powerful trouble."

A/N: Like it, I hope so. Now, please, review!

I hope you like that change. I really didn't mean to be snide to the Americans. It just came out. I didn't think. I never do. But now it's not mean to Americans anymore! Yes! Review! I do like American people. I'm actually Welsh, and I am not racist at all. So being that snide was really out of character. But it's gone now. Ignore me.

But not this. Review!