A/U. Harry's still Harry, and he's still the Boy-Who-Lived. However, there were no Horcruces. Therefore, when Voldemort went after James, Lily, and Harry, instead of the Killing Curse rebounding and creating a seventh, unintended Horcrux, he died, full-stop. The war ended there in Godric's Hollow on Halloween 1981. So once our Trio reaches Hogwarts, they will have seven normal years to educate themselves.
Well… as normal as one can get. The premise behind this story came from a Tumblr prompt. I was discussing with a couple of friends how difficult it would be to write in greyscale, as we rely so heavily on colors when writing, and I threw together a few paragraphs that would become the opening of this story.
General warnings: I own absolutely nothing apart from my own collection of words and phrases. I am not JKR, and have no affiliations with her, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Universal, or anyone else who may actually own legal rights to the Harry Potter franchise. I don't even own the idea this fic was based around – as I said, that came from Tumblr. Also, as with most of my work lately, this fic features Femmeslash and a romantic soul-mate relationship between Minerva McGonagall and Hermione Granger. If that's too much for you, there's a lovely little red x in the top corner of your screen, or on the side of the browser tab. Please, feel free to use it.
Any addresses or information I use is obviously fictitious. Please don't send mail to random people in an effort to reach Witches and Wizards.
Round Two in my series of old unfinished WIPs. I really loved the concept behind this one and the beginning that I'd written. I hope you enjoy it as well.
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The prompt:
"au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate"
"Additionally: when your soulmate dies, the world goes back to black and white"
"No but can you imagine having a normal day at work or running errands but then everything suddenly goes black and white"
"But then after living in that b/w world for years after that you suddenly meet someone on the street and little things start to regain color. Nothing big at first, just like a rose on your way to work, and then her eyes next time you see her, and so on until everything is vibrant again"
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She had heard them sing the songs of colors. She had heard of blue, of green, of red, and of yellow. She had heard the tales of rainbows. But she had never seen them. She had always been surrounded by white and black and shades of grey and silver. She had longed to know more, and had eagerly gobbled up the stories and descriptions in works of both fiction and non-fiction.
She read about people who went their entire lives seeing in greyscale, and the silly romance novels where suddenly the world exploded into color, and she wished with all her heart to someday meet the person would hand her a rainbow on a shiny plate.
What she didn't expect was a knock on her door one day followed by the sounds of her mother greeting someone who spoke with a crisp accent. She never expected to walk into the sitting room and see a clear green pair of eyes staring back at her, framed by square-rimmed golden eyeglasses. Unlike in the stories, the world did not suddenly go boom! and fill with colors. It was rather more gradual than that.
First, it was those impossibly deep eyes, and the golden frames around them. She found herself riveted in place, and as the woman began to speak, she marveled to think that color on her lips was pink; a natural pink, unaided by cosmetics, and yet so perfect a shade in contrast to the pale skin that was no longer simply white, but a palest peach that indicated she didn't spend much time outdoors, yet didn't seem unhealthy. Her eyes raced over the rest of the woman's body before zooming around the room, hoping to see more things burst into colorful life for the first time, and in so doing, she missed the words the woman said.
"Hermione." Finally her attention was wrangled back with a stern word from her mother.
"Yes, mum?"
"Did you hear any of that?" There was exasperation behind her mother's voice.
Hermione looked down sheepishly, noticing for the first time that the little daisies on the buckles of her black shoes had a yellow center and white petals. "No, Mum. I'm sorry."
"That's quite alright, Miss Granger. Have I your attention now?" There was that accent again. Scottish, she thought to herself, and the voice itself was warm and comforting, like honey drizzling into a cup of hot tea. She raised her gaze and caught her breath at the dark green color of the woman's long dress, nodding.
The woman smiled, narrow lips quirking up on one side as though she understood what was happening. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I've come to give you some exciting news today, but I'll start by wishing you a Happy Birthday."
"Thank you, miss."
"I'll just go get your father, Hermione. Wait here with Miss McGonagall, please, while I do so."
Hermione nodded her assent and moved to take a seat in her chair across from the one currently occupied by the strange woman. As soon as her mother left the room, Hermione couldn't help but whisper, eyes wide open, "Do you see…?"
"Aye, but this is not the time. Not yet."
She felt as the woman's eyes moved to give her the same once-over she had just done for herself. She couldn't read the emotions quickly flickering through the deep green, but there again was that hint of a smile, lips tilting ever so slightly to one side as she whispered, "Yellow," when her perusal was complete at Hermione's feet.
Then her parents were both coming back into the room, and Hermione Granger learned some new things about herself. On the day she turned eleven, her life was irrevocably changed. That was the day she learned she was a Witch, just like the woman who had come to visit. She learned that there was a whole separate world out there, filled with other Witches and Wizards, and that magic was real. She learned that she would be receiving a different education than the one her parents had been planning for her, and that this woman – Professor McGonagall – would be one of her instructors at this school, far to the north in Scotland. Her world was turned upside down merely with that revelation, which explained so much about things that had happened to her in the past.
However, additionally, she learned that she had a soul-mate. The kind written about in all the stories and the songs and the poems. She had always imagined some devilishly handsome boy as her soul-mate, passing by on the street, brushing against her hand with his, and turning to discover the world in color. There was supposed to be a whirlwind romance that turned into a marriage, career, and later on, children. That was how she'd seen her life unfold. She had never once, in all her imagining, thought that her life would be any different from that.
However, her world was already blooming slowly into colors, and as the woman departed, leaving behind a book describing the history of this new school she would be attending beginning next September, she also learned that her soul-mate was real, was alive in the world, and they had found each other. Her name was Minerva McGonagall, and she was the most beautiful woman Hermione had ever seen.
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A/N: That's all there is of this one just yet, but I'm so in love with the concept that I may write a bit more on it soon. Reviews are, of course, always welcome.