A/N: So this is my first attempt at a Self-Insert, the point of this fic is to explore the idea of a character with knowledge of the future that grows up between the Marauder Era and Harry's Hogwarts Career. As a self-insert the main character is based off of me and my reactions, thus there may be character bashing, but rest assured I shall keep all characters in-character and any-bashing will be internal and only affect the story in how my character chooses to interact with the rest of the Harry Potter cast.

Also, I am a Slytherin, I have always been a Slytherin, I shall always be a Slytherin. The same goes for my character. I don't think there is anything wrong with the other houses. I just don't want to get to the point of her sorting and lose half my readers because they want 'this' house or 'that' house. So, please, no Slytherin bashing. The extremity of house-rivalries will be explored later in the fic so I'll save my opinions on House-bashing for those chapters.

Hope you enjoy!

Prologue

When I first came to in this-new-world I found myself surrounded by a bunch of weirdo priests chanting some sort of spell. At the time I could do nothing but scream at the weird occult scene I found myself in. In later years I would come to learn that my mother had paid some Charms Masters a lot of gold to 'bless me' with long-life, something that seems to have evaded my family for generations.

When I brought this to my mother's, for she was not my 'mom,' attention she would simply say"those whom the gods love die young" and I would be left to stifle a giggle at the irony of such a statement. After-all, if the gods' love kills you then is it their hate that brings you back?

Those are the sort of thoughts I allowed myself to ponder as I lay awake bored out of my mind those first few months. I am ashamed to say that it took me much too long to work out what had happened, although fear played a big part in it. I could deduce early on that I was not stuck in some rather vivid coma and had in fact been re-incarnated, but that thought often led to the question; how did I die? And while death may be an uncomfortable topic for most, I found myself more worried by my lapse in memories.

Alright, 'worried' was putting it mildly. I was rather young to have died in my first life-19-but still rather well adjusted, I was a year ahead in my University studying Chemistry with the best of them, even writing a book on the side. I had gone through a lot in my early years and it shone through in my laid-back care-free take on life.

Not much could have shaken me, and in fact neither my death nor my re-birth registered as more than 'inconvenient' at the time. Their was nearly 20 years of work flushed down the drain, however, despite my general resilience I have always had a major-crippling fear. It stemmed from a throwaway line years back on how 'we are what we remember.' Just a nice little aphorism, but it got me to thinking and a mind can be a heinous place. Mine lead me in maze of circles before spitting me out with a sever fear of amnesia and anything memory-loss related.

So when I died, I moved on, when I found myself in a baby's body, I shrugged, but when I found myself unable to access certain memories of my past life. When my dad's face began to fade and my three siblings began to mesh into one amorphous blob-I cried, nay I bawled.

I must have been a terrible baby, and it sure didn't help that whenever I let loose a whimper-when I allowed my thought to stray from philosophy such as 'Am I reincarnated or simply remembering the first few months of my life?' to anything remotely related to my fading memories of competing in gymnastic meets-I found myself being rocked to sleep by the ugliest midget I had ever seen.

It took me awhile to come to the conclusion that the gods must have more than hated me, and unbidden a quote from a lecture long-forgotten floated to mind about a girl named Cassandra with the gift of prophecy ; "those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad." It would cross my mind, religiously, every time something went wrong.

For just like Cassandra, I knew exactly what was to come, after all denial would only let me ignore what was clearly a House-Elf acting as my nanny or conveniently timed exploding light fixtures for so long. And denial would definitely not explain away the two faces peering down at me with beautiful locks I used to jokingly compare to my own, nor the way they so carefully introduced themselves as my big brothers 'Siri' and 'Reg'.

Yes, like Cassandra I found myself with knowledge of a future most bleak, and just like her I found myself in the exact position to prevent people from listening to me. Truly, I nearly broke that year. If it wasn't for my two brothers and their constant attempts to make me laugh I would have. For it was their unconditional love that allowed me to find a purpose, and in finding a purpose, a reason to more than live, but thrive.

Born Amalthea Dorea Black on December 19th 1970, I was the First Daughter of Orion and Walburga Black and I was the self-appointed savior of Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus Black. Baby or not, I now had a mission and I'd be dammed if I let anyone take my big brothers away.

Well there's the prologue, the next chapter should be a little longer, although I am going to keep the chapters between 1K and 2K so that I can update faster.

Thanks for reading!