So I came up with this out of the blue and spent about four-five hours with Lady Lily Anne cleaning it up. Basically, Harriet Potter wasn't even given a chance to defend herself after the Dementor attack and was sentenced to death by Fudge while the Wizengamot basically boggled at 'What the fuck just happened here!?"
Thankfully, even Umbridge wasn't that stupid, so all isn't what it seems, and so the story begins.
A red headed young man cut his way through the throngs of London's mid afternoon denizens while he worked his fingers around the handful of muggle coins in his pocket, a gift given by his only surviving best friend not an hour earlier.
He had about five quid and fifty pence available to him at the moment; a veritable fortune considering it could buy him a couple scones and a hot cup of tea to ward off the December chill. Much more than he had in a good long while, more than any Pureblood not aligned with You-Know-Who could claim they had gained honestly at the very least.
Harri would bitch smack him for that sort of thinking if she were still alive though. Money was money, food was food, don't be a whiner and take what you can get while you can get it so you can survive till tomorrow.
That was how Harriet Potter looked at the world.
Circe did he miss his best friend, murdered years ago by the Ministry for Magic after her kangaroo court trial at the age of fifteen; wand snapped, fortune stolen, and thrown through the Veil of Death before anyone could get a word in edge wise.
Ron Weasely grimaced at that, trying to blot out the memory of the literal blood riot that had exploded after the news was announced, how everyone who had supported the Girl-Who-Lived rose up and were soon beaten down by the Ministry.
Voldemort hadn't really had to do anything to take control after that, he just let Fudge and the now very much dead and unlamented Umbridge drive their country into the ground while showing up moments afterwords to clean the broken mess up.
As a self professed chess master, Ron had to admit they had all been well played in the end.
Well, that is aside from Hermione, according to Luna and Ginny it took Umbridge nearly three months to die after his favorite bookworm got her hands on the bitch that had arranged their best friend's murder.
Still, Umbridge's death should have at the minimum taken six more years to come to fruition in his opinion, but he had Prewitt and Black blood running through his veins, so he might be a bit biased in that regard.
Although... Hermione was...creatively vindictive, so he was going to assume Umbridge's final days had been suitably horrific and decided to do his best to reconcile his deep seated sense of vengeance with that fact.
Shaking thoughts of retribution and hatred off he entered a bookstore/cafe and approached the woman manning the register without making eye contact, Ron really wasn't in the mood for a conversation at the moment regardless.
"I'll take two cinnamon scones, and a black tea with two sugars and a twist of lemon to go."
The woman nodded and extended her hand towards him, "Alrighty, that'll be four pounds and seventeen pence sir."
Reaching into his pocket Ron handed the money over, then met the Avada Kedavra green gaze of the woman before him and a moment later focused his sight on the lightning bolt shaped scar on her forehead.
The woman took his money and handed his change to him and eventually Ron walked away from the register, tea and scones in hand as her unforgettable eyes and name tag ran through his mind.
Viridian Green. Violet Evans.
"They told us you were dead sis..."
With that Ron Weasley tore a bite out of his scone while grinning wickedly.
"Wait till 'Mione hears about this. She's gonna be pissed."
Violet Evans was used to guys giving her odd looks, so she hadn't really paid much attention to the ginger who had been staring at her for several minutes while he finished his tea and scones. The weird thing was, it didn't make her uncomfortable like usual, rather she wanted to tweak his nose and ask him if he was fantasizing about the Cannons again.
Which confused the hell out of her because what the hell was the Cannons?
Whatever, he left, she finished her shift, traded in the book she'd borrowed from the store for a different one, thankfully at the owners behest, and quickly packed her things up for her journey home. Letting out a sharp whistle as she exited the store her German Shepard ran out from the alley he had been hanging out in, wreathed in the steam from the vent he'd been laying against, while letting out a delighted woof.
Laughing as the large dog tried to lick her face Violet rubbed him down a bit before scratching behind his ears, "That's enough Padfoot, let's go home alright?"
With a bark Padfoot began panting and walked beside his master as she led him through downtown London, and not for the first time on said journey she became lost in thought.
Violet was an amnesiatic orphan, she'd shown up in a hospital roughly around the age of fifteen with nothing but a necklace stating her name as one Violet Marie Evans and the clothes on her back. She'd spent every free moment since she had regained consciousnesses to prove her worth, to earn scholarships for University, and to earn her own way without the help of handouts.
She had no idea what compelled her to excel but it was what she did, and she did it well.
At the age of 22 she was the assistant manager at Magnolia's Book and Brew, a bookstore slash tea shop that catered to the local college kids, offering discounted texts and hideously over caffeinated beverages for those desperately cramming for exams. Along with her own full time studies in pursuing her business degree Violet had nearly no time to herself outside of the few hours before she had to sleep, usually spent reading books borrowed from the store while cuddling her dog, eating a TV dinner, and trying not to cry at how lonely she was.
Today was no different, reaching her flat complex she and Padfoot rode the lift up to the thirteenth floor, and after a rather irritating few moments of getting her jammed lock to work got her door open and they soon entered their lovely two room home.
Tossing her keys on the bronze stag statue that she still had no idea why she felt compelled to buy from a yard sale, Violet soon shucked her boots and jacket quickly followed by her pants and work shirt. Turning on the kettle she fed Padfoot his low fiber doggy delights, took a quick shower, and after drying off and donning her pajamas took her fresh cup of chamomile and curled up on her bed.
Padfoot laid down beside her and Violet sipped her tea while running her fingers through the large dog's fur, slowly reading through the Bard's works, wondering not for the first time why 'A Winter's Tale' meant so much to her before she eventually fell asleep.
She stared at the ginger before her while trying very hard to keep her calm, and Hermione Granger liked to believe she was honest enough to know if she was lying to herself or not in that regard, really.
Still, this was...volatile territory, as in only Luna and Ginny could possibly approach her about this sort of thing without her entering 'Losing Her Shit Territory.' Ron knew that, so either he had at some point become suicidal, or he was being completely honest, the man standing beside her thankfully was able to find his words easier than she could at the moment.
"Are you telling me, by complete accident mind, you found my goddaughter, not only alive, but working in a muggle tea shop and she was completely oblivious as to who you were?"
Ron stared at Sirius Black a few moments before nodding slowly, "It was weird, it was Harri but it wasn't yeah? I mean when I was addressing her directly she barely acknowledged me, but when she caught me giving her looks, well..."
He ran his hand through his hair as he glanced towards Hermione before continuing, "She shot me 'the smile', you remember it... You have to..."
Gods did she ever, 'the smile' was a loaded thing when it came from Harriet Potter. It was part mischief, part worry, and all love, it was the smile of someone terrified of losing everything yet caring enough to hold onto every slip of happiness that came her way. It was the smile of someone who loved so hard it was painful, and was terrified it would all be taken away like it had been a sick cruel joke all along.
"I remember... If you aren't wrong-" Ron gained an indignant look but was cut off as Hermione extended a finger to silence him- "which I highly doubt you were, then that means we've all been lied to more than we had initially anticipated."
Sirius ran a hand through his beard while shaking his head, "Which means that even Dumbledore had been lying to us about her death, pity we can't ask the bastard why at this point..."
"True," Hermione stated as she glanced at a photo stuck to her fridge. It was an old Polaroid picture, in the center was a brilliantly smiling little girl with long wavy black hair, her arms thrown around the shoulders of a grinning redhead and a bemused looking wild haired brunette.
Written in a childish scrawl across the bottom was 'New Friends! Ron, Harri, and Mia, First Year!'
She had to resist the urge to sob as she met Ron's gaze evenly, "That doesn't matter though does it?"
Ron nodded once as he glanced at the photo, "No, it doesn't...lets go get our Harri back, yeah?"
Violet was having the mother of all bad days at the moment. While her boss was a very reasonable woman who she could easily work with, her manager was, in her opinion, which she respected because it was hers, a psychopathic ignoramus. One or the other she could have dealt with, but both at the same time?
Gods help her.
Not only did the idiot not grasp the fact that winter hols were soon to be over with and she went back to being a full time student, he fucking blamed her for not informing him about the situation. The fact that Violet had worked there three years and this little shit had been there four months not withstanding, the owner had freaking told him from the get go that during the semester he couldn't rely on her.
So what did the stupid shit try to do?
He sacked her, so she had thrown a pot of coffee in the bastard's face and left, but it couldn't be that simple.
Nope, her boss had to turn around, sack her manager for being the miserable little shit stain he was, and beg her to come back and run things while she found a replacement for him. Hopefully one who wasn't stupid enough to piss off a Welsh girl who had real shit to deal with.
It was with this high stress mentality that she met the gaze of a brown eyed woman who gave her a wan smile as she fiddled with her purse, looking incredibly nervous as she perused the menu.
"Can I help you ma'am?"
Said woman's smile sent uncomfortable butterflies flying through Violets stomach as she tried to focus on the order before her.
"Yes, I would like a red tea with two sugars, also, ummm..." she glanced about a moment before leaning forward and continuing, "could I possibly have my tea with you?"
Blushing scarlet Violet glanced about a bit before turning to the woman standing behind her, "Err...Anne is it cool if I take a fiver?"
Her coworker just waved her off with a smile, "Boss lady you do enough around here go ahead and take ten."
Nodding she made the requested tea, along with one for herself and sat down with her unusual customer.
They took a seat at a side table and both women fiddled with their drinks for a few minutes before a tatty braided bracelet landed in front of Violet. Picking up the dirty length of red and gold yarn she turned it around to read the black letters woven into the side.
"Friends Forever?" She asked in confusion as the brunette sitting across from her took her hands in her own, and soon met her emerald gaze with her teary brown orbs while she barely managed to sob out her reply.
"Forever, love."
Then something broke.
Staring down at the childish bracelet in her hands Harri shakily wrapped it around her wrist and knotted it together, standing she fell against the table and nearly collapsed to the ground for her troubles. Ignoring all the customers staring at her antics she grabbed Hermione's hand and held it so tightly that she was honestly worried she was going to bruise the poor woman, but still managed to croak out a few words.
"Ron...Sirius...
"Outside waiting for us dear," Harriet Potter nodded and stumbled towards the exit, not at all sure what she was doing, but damn well sure she was going to do something.
