Title inspired by MONSTER by Skillet.
Fic inspired by a gifset I made on tumblr.

unbeta'd. And, also, this is my first ever Harry Potter AU fanfiction, so please, bear with me! :)

They weren't supposed to meet. It was all a big mistake.

But in the end, it didn't matter. Because their accidental meeting ended up being the best coincidence the Ministry of Magic could ever have wished for. And then everything crumbled under them all.

Clinton Francis Barton. Clint would forever remember the day the the sorting hat had been placed on his head, and he would forever remember the conversation that had happened inside his head.

"You're very true, aren't you Clint?" the hat had asked him, and he answered quietly, nodding to himself. He could see his brother, from there, sitting at the Rawenclaw table. Their parents had been Muggles, and when Barney had received his letter, they'd abandoned them to live on their own because of their freakish nature. Barney had never forgiven them that, but Clint had just waited anxiously for his own letter.

"I can see you're hard-working, and very loyal. You may not agree with what's being told, but you'll never sway from your path once you've decided on it. In that, I see your brother's stubborness. But where he was cunning and smart, you are more patient, and ready to put others' need before your own."

Clint hadn't been born in England. He was born in the United States, just as his brother. However, when both of them were abandoned, their great-aunt had offered to bring them to England, and help them out until they were old enough to take care of themselves. She, herself, was a witch. And, it was probably why they'd both been accepted at Hogwarts rather than Salem or Roswell.

"Well, then, Clint. I better put you in Hufflepuff then," the hat stated, thoughtful, as Clint closed his eyes, hoping that he wouldn't end up in the same house as his brother. Anything but his brother.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat yelled, and Clint breathed out. The table cheered at him, and he got up, walked towards the table, and sat down near the other first year students. He felt embarrassed and frightened at the same time, though he'd never admit it. He was Muggle-born, and nobody in his direct family was a wizard. When Barney had first had an episode that could have involved magic, both of them had thought it was a joke. However, everything had been turned around, and, eventually, both of them were accepted into the Wizarding school.

For the first years in the school, Clint was a good student. He was patient, and got into the Quidditch team of his house, as a Beater, because of his perfect aim. He never missed, and not even in rainy weather or a windstorm, did the bladgers hit wrongfully. Of course, every other team of the school hated him for it – especially the Rawenclaw team. And, especially his older brother, who served as a keeper.

When his brother left the school, Clint was allowed to breathe freely, as he didn't have the pressure of his kin to push him too far. Eventually, he graduated with almost enough N.E.W.T.s to apply to become an Auror, but he lacked the Herbology subject to pass it on. Upon his request, he was sent to Salem School of Witchcraft to study Herbology and Apparition there, to strengthen his knowledge of the magical crafts – and to find his American roots. Barney had disappeared from the surface of the world, but Clint didn't care.

Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Nat' had a faint idea what this voice inside her head was. She was sure it came from the hat, but she didn't want it on her head. However, protocol had dictated that she had to sit in front of the entire dining hall and get her mind read by a magical hat, and that she'd get sorted into a house.

So far, nothing was different from all the other students at Hogwarts. Except that she was already 14 years old. And that she had been expelled by Durmstrang school of wizardry a couple of months before because of her inherent wish to use some of the unforgivable curses on her fellow students. She'd almost gotten her wand broken, but they'd agreed to let her keep it on the one condition that she accept to move to the United Kingdom and study there instead.

This had been the arrangement between Karkaroff and Dumbledore on her behalf.

"You're very stubborn, yes, I can see it here. Isn't it quite odd, to sit here, after having been sorted into Fehu, in Durmstrang house. But, I see you clearly, Natalia. And I see only one house to host you while you stay here." The hat paused.

Natalia rolled her eyes, as she watched the other students. The other first years had been watching her all the way here, and all the other students had been turning their heads towards her when McGonagall had escorted her towards the first year group to be sorted. Nobody had explained why a 14 year old girl had to be sorted today, but she didn't care.

"RAWENCLAW!"

The hat called it out. She'd been secretly expected to be sorted into Slytherin, but the teachers had told her never to expect getting into a certain house, unless your family had been in that house. And, Nat' didn't have any family in the United Kingdom. She didn't even have any family in the East. She didn't have any family because they'd all been killed.

Before her eyes. As she got up from the stool, and walked towards her new house, she remembered why she'd turned out the way she did. Her mother and father had been killed by three werewolves. Three werewolves who'd begged them to shelter them for the night, saying there were afraid of being attacked by a werewolf if they slept out. Three werewolves who had lied their way into her family's house. Three werewolves who'd changed in the bedroom next to hers. Three werewolves who had eaten her mother and father's hearts.

And the only way she survived was because she managed to climb up onto the roof, and spent the night crying, whining, screaming for someone to hear her. But nobody had come. When morning came, the werewolves left the scene, laughing and smiling. And little Natalia, 7 years old, had sworn that she would kill them.

She sat down gently at her table, and when a younger first year student joined her a couple of minutes later, she ignored her, staring into the empty plate in front of her. She didn't want to be here. They'd sent her far away. Too far away. The werewolves would disappear before she could find them again. But, if she could just get through the Hogwarts curriculum, then she would be a free witch.

If she could learn how to transform into a spider, or if she could just learn how to deal with the murderers who killed her family... Oh, if only.

She did actually graduated Hogwarts with no too many troubles. She had a fine penchant for potions and transfiguration, and she even took astrology. But what she loved most was the Defense Against the Dark Arts, because there, she could ask about all kinds of things, and learn how wizards would protect themselves from it. She could remember some courses of Dark Magic she'd taken in Durmstrang. But, she never used any of those spells during her classes in Hogwarts.

It would simply attract too much attention. When she graduated, she asked the headmaster – Dumbledore – to get some help to get back to her native Russia. To get back to the place she came from, to make peace with her past.

She spent the next 7 months hunting down the three werewolves who'd killed her parents. And when she found them, something unexpected happened.

Tadaaaaah! I'm writing this runningly in the coming days, so I'll try to update soon, but University is killing me with work. Promise I'll try to do it quick, though!

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(20/03/2014)