Calibrations
Each of the once most famous trio that ever walked upon Hogwarts grounds, were now living their lives across Europe. Now, five years after their graduation from Hogwarts, their fates are once again to be foretold and sealed off concerning mystery, disaster, tragedy, and romance (lust or love… however you want to see it as). However, none are aware of their atrocious destiny that is soon to befall them…
For we are all human. It's only the human nature to make mistakes like this… isn't it?
Chapter One
You Cannot Blame Me For My Wrongdoings'
Just a small introduction to what's been going on…
Harry, who currently resides happily in the town of Dublin, Ireland, now works full time as an Aurora (check that!). Also, Ron, lives part-time with Harry (in his double apartment), runs small errands for the Ministry, and is Harry's subordinate. Throughout part of the year (perhaps a month, as most), Ron returns to his moderate-sized flat in London, to play as a small-time Quidditch player (just for fun… like a small vacation). Hermione, who's living in Hamburg, Germany, works part-time in a small perfume shop called 'Deluge' during the summer, and works full time for the Ministry for the remaining part of the year.
Sidelong companions who are also weaved into the story include Neville, who lives rather just down the street of Hermione. He finds himself in constant aid, since he's forever scarred because of Snape. He works in a muggle magic shop (which is quite hazardous… who knows how he ever got the job!). Seamus, is the caretaker of Ron's flat (as a bond, Seamus gets to live there, what a bonus!), and is a Quidditch captain of a yet unknown team. There are yet more to come…
.:.
Harry, casually sipped from his white coffee cup, and sighed. It was another blasphemous day in the outer world of his home. Outside his window, fog had raced in, and thickly covered Dublin. He seated himself down into a small, fatly stuffed chair, and wrapped his hands closely around the cup. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristled with a brief simultaneous assault of consciousness. It was going to be a very cold day.
He quietly situated himself in a relaxed position, his small, thin-rimmed glasses propped on his nose. His coal hair was still untidy as ever, but just as feathery. His lean figure was not greatly muscular, nor scrawny. Bright green eyes still held their gleam of adventuress. He was very content and confident with his looks.
"Augh! When are we going to get some halfway decent weather?! I can hardly see out doormat, and that's hardly ten meters below us! What if someone comes bolting in?! Gawd, all of this nutty weather is driving me up the wall!" Ron moaned. He didn't like the feeling of being boxed in.
Harry dismissively waved his hand at Ron, and reached for the phone. He was going to have to call in to report Ron and he weren't going to be at work today. Possibly even tomorrow, if the weather decides to stay as it is.
Ron, rolled his eyes, gripped at the drapes, and closed them. It was five in the morning, and he and Harry were supposed to be at work in half an hour. How he hated early shifts! He ran a hand through his shaggy red hair. Gloomily dragging himself to a nearby chair, he dropped down into the seat. The weather really did dampen his emotions. Who'd of known?
Even if his attitude was gloomy, his physical appearance was still cute. His amber eyes still held their mischievous glint, while the faint spread of boyish freckles charmed a-many girls (and the old alike). He was moderately built, tall, and never the less lean. Yes, he assured himself that it was safe to assume he was just as gorgeous as Harry. Maybe just a little to confident though.
Harry set the receiver down, just ending his report to their boss about their being absent for the day. "Well… we could always think of this as a sort of mini vacation." Harry inclined, smiling slightly.
Ron didn't even bother to lift up his head to look at Harry directly. He peered over at Harry thru his red bangs and grunted.
"Some vacation. We can't even do anything except sit on our bums and rot."
Just as Harry was about to argue with Ron about his attitude, three loud bangs came from downstairs. Ron bolted across the room, and slid down the railings of the stairs, with Harry at his heels. They skidded to a halt at the doorstep. More bangs followed, apparently coming from the front door. Ron stood aside as Harry opened the door slightly. Harry gasped, dumbstruck. Ron blinked several times, and raised a weary eyebrow.
"Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley. What a pleasure." The voice coaxed, unconvincingly. In stepped Blaise Zambini. Quickly Harry and Ron's faces turned into frowns.
"Don't look at me like that! I'm here to bring you news." Spat Blaise, shrilly.
"How in the world did you get here?! And how'd you know we lived here…?!" asked Ron; apparently Blaises' arrival racked his nerves even more. Blaise smirked.
"It was shear hell to get here Weasley, especially with this damned fog. Not to mention you're listed in the phone book, you idiot." He sniffled courtly. It was very cold outside.
"Ah, right." Harry eyed him calmly. "What news do you come to bring us?"
"I'm here for the sake of your dear friend Hermione Granger."
.:.
Hermione stirred a bowl of syrupy chocolate with a large, wooden spoon, and laughed briefly. Who would've thought Hermione could cook? Gingerly she dipped a finger into chocolate, and then devoured it with her mouth. She squealed in delight. Crookshanks, who's once brilliant orange coat, was a pale tan, supposedly from old age. He yawned, showing a most large array of white fangs and stretched across the floor, underneath the dining table.
"Ooh! Perfect!" Smiling, she wiped her hands on her apron, and grabbed a pan from a cabinet. She set it down onto the counter lightly, giddy with excitement. Carefully, she picked up her bowl, and poured half of it's chocolaty-goodness into the pan. Once set, she opened the oven door, and checked the temperature.
"All's good and ready!" She chirped, and whisked the pan away from the counter top and shoved it into the oven.
Once she was done setting the timer for twenty minutes, she turned around boldly, and winced at the sight. Even if she's a wonderful cook, she left a disaster in her wake when it came to the cleaning. Blowing a stray hair away from her face, she began piling dirty cooking utensils in the sink. Almost instantly, the doorbell chimed.
"Ack! Um, hold on, I'll be right there!" Hastily, she wiped her hands on her apron, untied it, and dropped it atop a dining chair on her way to the door.
Hermione opened the door, smiling.
"Er, hi, Hermione, I, erm, just thought that… I'd drop by." Stuttered a voice.
"Oh! Neville!" she laughed, "what a surprise! Please, come in!" She opened the door fully, and let him enter.
Neville, once being the small, jumpy, fat, (cute), Gryffindor, was now a formal looking boy of twenty-three. His dusty brown hair crept just above his brow, while bright blue eyes smiled, greatly relieved. He walked into the hallway, and removed his shoes. He was just a few inches taller than Hermione, topping her by only three inches. Not to mention Hermione was five-foot-eight.
Hermione guided him into her living room, conveniently filled with urbane furniture. It had a nice autumn glow to it. Neville plopped down onto the couch.
"So, Neville! How's you job coming along?"
Hermione set herself in a chair adjacent from him. Neville could feel the faint tinge of pink blush cross his face, but it quickly passed.
"Oh, it's going along… fine. I suppose." He said miserably.
"Aw! Do tell. I promise, I won't make fun." Hermione laughed lightly, but winked at him, reassuringly.
"Eh, it's just me", he laughed quickly, "It's always me that's the problem." Hermione slipped from her chair, and sat beside Neville. Friendly, she held his hand, and commented, "no it isn't. You shouldn't blame yourself! It's not your fault." Continuously, she beamed. Neville turned several shades of red, but shyly nodded.
In a moment of awkward silence, she nibbled on her bottom lip, but soon spoke up giddily, "tell ya what! I'm gonna go check on my brownies, and you stay right here, okay? When they're done, we can treat ourselves!" she winked at him again, and walked away into the kitchen. Neville sighed contently, and relaxed.
As soon as Hermione left, the entryway door was blown from its hinges.
Three monstrous figures appeared from the smoke.
Various spells were cast, and an array of explosions enveloped the entire apartment.
Screams, cries, shouts, gasps, hisses, and commands were heard.
The three figures left with only one body.
Dull bronze fur floated in the air, smelling of burnt hair & scorched flesh.
Among the charred remains of the apartment, was the burnt smell of chocolate.
.:.
/end chapter one