I'm writing several different stories at the moment, but the muse hit me hard for this one several months ago and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm hoping it will back off now that I finally wrote the prologue, and allow me to concentrate on my main fic, Ephemeral Time. I don't know if this will be a story with a very quiet plot, or a series of very closely connected one-shots. It's set a couple months after DH and some time between New Moon and Bella's wedding. Pairings will be cannon for Twilight characters. I haven't quite decided for HP, but it will be mostly cannon anyway.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America.
Small as Forks is – a place where families have lived for generations and everyone knows everyone – anything new is always big news. And the fact that an unknown family from England would soon move in was certainly Big News. The agent who had received the initial phone call could talk of nothing else for nearly a week, as the town gossips – of which there were many – slyly flocked to hear.
Not that they were given much information to go on. Simply that they were British and looking for a house with plenty of space in a fairly remote location. The woman who made the call, young by the sound of it, had seen the advert on the internet and called on behalf of herself and a male friend or two. Brother, boyfriend, roommate? The town speculated eagerly, wondering when the foreigners would show.
It was a surprise to both the Cullens and Bella Swan that they were not among the first to know. Alice Cullen had not caught so much of a glimpse of new residents until Bella had relayed the news to her. It was generally speculated by the family members that this meant the newcomers would have little to do with them, and were relieved. Alice chose to actively look into their future regardless, and caught only flickers of a skinny, black-haired young man with green eyes and glasses. Of his companions she received only vague impressions of numbers, sometimes more, sometimes less.
It was frustrating to a Seer who was used to knowing. Not quite as frustrating as trying to look past the shape-shifters, but she did wish the foreigners would make up their minds.
Harry took a moment to survey the house – his house, their house. It was his first time seeing it, and Hermione had chosen brilliantly as always. A little rundown, perhaps, and in need of subtle expansion spells despite its already large size, if as many people were coming as they'd extended open invitations to. But he had come ahead to get the house fixed up while Ron and Hermione took a detour to Australia to track down her parents now that the danger was mostly gone.
Hermione had given him a few spellbooks on house upkeep and repair, as the Muggle way took too much time. Harry had been forced to become very good at keeping a household running, but the Dursleys had never let their home get as bad as this one.
It was nice, though. He thought he could fall in love with it, if given a chance. The work would keep his mind off…things. Nightmares. Memories. Paranoia.
He'd better find a way into town first. He needed paint and groceries. Possibly also a car to blend in, even if they planned to Apparate more often than not. At least the electricity and water had been hooked up. And Hermione had told him what colors to paint each room, not trusting him with that particular decision.
"Boys," she had said mock disdainfully. "Gryffindor boys at that. I'd probably arrive to find everything in blinding red and gold."
He wouldn't have, really. Gold was too bright, reminded him of artificial smiles, forced attempts at happiness, celebration when all he felt like doing was lying down and sleeping until his heart stopped aching.
Red was blood.
Harry scowled and shook his head. Hadn't they left to get away from the nightmares? And the reporters and mobs. He Occluded his mind until calm once more stole over him and began walking through the plentiful woods that surrounded his new home. Brighter, airier than the Forbidden Forest, even in the rain he had been warned was typical of Forks. He liked it, both for hiding them away from neighbors and simply for the scenery and fresh air.
Town was actually a bit of a walk. He had ended up apparating a few times, only able to go as far as he could see since he didn't know the place yet.
Finding the grocer's and the hardware store was easy in such a small town. The staring eyes and subtle attempts at gaining information on him he could handle. It would blow over eventually and he was used to much worse. Besides, they were not being malicious, simply overly curious, and he was probably the most exciting thing that had happened to them in years. They were probably scandalized over how young he was.
It was inconvenient trying to escape with all of his purchases and no car in sight, but he managed.
Three days later the rain finally let up so that he could paint the outside of the house. The inside was almost unrecognizable and the front porch had been expanded on a whim. Harry mused that it was lucky there wasn't anyone around to notice how unnaturally fast the repairs had been done.
He hummed as he worked, letting the repetition lull him into a trance. Hermione would set up the permanent wards when she got there, and she had been quite excited about a rather obscure spell she had found to cast on all the windows that would keep any magical activity from being seen. They wouldn't have to worry about keeping magic use restricted to windowless areas. Not that they were planning on using a lot of magic, with all the electronics around but Ron was a Pureblood and it came naturally to him.
Hours later, body aching from exertion, he stood and stretched his back. He was also a bit sore from perching on his broom in order to reach the higher levels. Harry had forgotten to buy a ladder and didn't trust his Transfiguration enough to risk it. Repelling Charms made sure no one had been able to witness his blatant use of magic.
One more thing, he thought, bringing out the small wooden slat he had gotten. Every wizarding house he had ever visited had a name, and he thought his required one as well. Hermione would probably read too much into it and be unhappy. Or maybe she would know better than he did what he meant. He hoped this wouldn't get him a lecture.
Carefully, using his wand to create the letters neatly, he wrote Wayward Home – and stopped. They were trying not to attract attention. The name Harry had chosen would probably catch more attention than they wanted.
So he left it as it was and levitated it up to hand in the middle of the overhang over the front porch. He didn't need a sign really. He knew what this home was meant for, what it would become. And besides, the full name was a bit long to say, even if they had decided against having a fireplace.
Even if no one else knew, to Harry it would always be the Wayward Home for Broken Souls.