Chapter One: Hit or Miss
Author: Jamsel
Rating: PG
Summary: When three best friends fall apart and leave each other creating three different tales. What happens when they begin to interweave? Perhaps a bit of Romance.
Pairing: Maybe R/Hr
Disclaimer: as someone else wrote. I'm just a fanfic author. JKR owns the characters I just play in her playground.
"Have I waited to long
Have I found that someone
Have I waited to long
To see you"- New Found Glory taken from Hit or Miss
Hermione sprinted down the driveway as fast as she could, her lungs burning in the night air. She grabbed a tree branch and swung herself up and over the seven foot stone wall, landing cat like on the other side. She took a minute to regain her footing and continued the sprint to her car. Taking a minute to look back up at the mansion she noticed that a few lights had turned on. Quickly, she jumped into her car and sped off down the road.
The job had come to her by telephone, the buyer hadn't identified themselves but they had offered her five hundred thousand Galleons to steal eight different rings, all in different highly protected homes or museums. This was her second ring, they were rather remarkably plain, white gold with a single letter engraved on the inside of each. She never questioned her jobs anymore, she just took them. She never accepted jobs worth under two hundred and fifty thousand anymore. It was an insult.
The life of a thief, she found, was rather enjoyable. She'd thrown ethics out the window when her old life had come to a halt. She'd become a thief out of desperation for something to put her excess energy into. And she'd become a very, very good one. No one (in the black market circle) really knew who she was. They'd nicknamed her "The Shadow," because she had never failed a job. Ever. She pulled in the most money out of anyone within the circle and she was nothing but a mere rumour to most.
She turned off the main road and pulled onto a short side road. After a few minutes she turned off the side road onto an old country road. She bumped along the road and eventually came up to a wooden gate. She climbed out of the car and unlocked the creaky gate. As she drove up to her mansion, she smiled. It was a beautiful old house, full of cozy rooms and fireplaces that she spent the weekends reading in.
Her maid, Esmerelda, came to greet her and handed her a letter that had just come by owl. It was a heavy envelope, her name spelled out in purple ink on the cream coloured front. She entered her mansion and jogged up the stairs flipping the water on in her bath tub. Zipping open her backpack she removed the ring studying with curiosity. She still couldn't understand why this ring was so important. Shrugging Hermione placed the ring in a box inside of her safe and recovered the safe with a hanging tapestry. Shrugging out of her black clothing she sank into the bathtub, grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. It was a wedding invitation. Curiously, she flipped it in and read it. She gasped and almost dropped it into the water.
Mr. Sirius Black and his fiancé Mrs. Arabella Figg cordially invite you to celebrate with them their Marriage Saturday July the twenty first Two o'clock St. Orgdenberg Church, Hogsmeade. Please RSVP by Owl if you wish to bring a guest. Ron Weasley shook his head staring at the crumbled walls of the small motel room. The walls were water stained and the bedcovers looked moldy. He shrugged and dropped his things. He needed sleep and this was a bed. Sighing he fell back upon the bed covers. Life as an auror was never as glamorous as people thought. Sighing he leaned back into the pillow and tried to close his eyes. He couldn't keep them closed. For some reason he had to get up. He sat at the edge of the bed and rummaged around until he found a small photo book. He always carried it with him but never looked at them. He didn't know why.
Sitting cross legged in the center of the bed he opened the photo book. The picture instantly made him smile. It was a picture the Hogwarts school photographer had taken when he, Hermione and Harry had been reunited. They were all smiling up at him, arms around one another. They had been so innocent. He sighed, not wanting to continue. The war had taken so much from him, the biggest loss, his friends.
He hadn't heard from either of them since it ended, six long years ago. They'd fought together for two years after leaving school, fought for their freedom and the freedom of wizards everywhere. And they won. He sighed. But the war had taken its toll on himself and his friends. When it was all over, he remembered that day and he would forever, they all went their separate ways. Hermione had been broken, he hated himself for letting that happen to her, Harry just looked tired. He was the first to leave. He'd just jumped on his broomstick and flown away. Not a word to anyone, not even Sirius. Hermione had run after that and himself. He sighed and turned the page.
It was a picture from the summer, when they'd all been at his house after first year. Smiling happily in the garden of the Burrow. The next picture of the trio in the common room, the next of them reunited at the feast, when Hermione woke up from being petrified. The one after that the trio after the Sirius Black ordeal in Third Year. He smiled to himself remembering good ol' Sirius. How he'd cared so much for Harry and the gang.
The picture book told the tale of The Trio at Hogwarts, each year at least three photographs and more telling of the major events. Those had been the best years of his life. He'd give anything to see his friends again. He flipped to the final page of the book, at the picture he knew was coming. He feared that picture so much. It was a picture of Hermione and him, sometime in the final three months of school. She'd jumped on his back and he was holding her. They were both laughing, not looking at the photographer. It was his last happy memory of that year. It was the last memory he'd had of her smiling, laughing. Emotion over came him and he slammed the book shut. He hated himself. He blamed himself for letting her get taken. He wished ever day that he could turn back time and save her, help her. Harry, Ginny, everyone had told him to let it go. But he couldn't. She'd felt so much pain, seen so much pain. He hated himself for letting that happen to her. He hated himself for letting her be tainted by the powers of Voldemort. Sighing he leaned back into the pillows and attempted to close his eyes when he heard a rapping at the window. Wand drawn he threw open the musty curtain to find an Owl hovering outside. He sighed and opened the window and the owl flew inside covered in rain. It dropped a heavy looking envelope on the table with his name written on it in purple ink and flew back out into the storm. Curiously he picked up the letter and closed the window. It was a wedding invitation. He flipped it open and dropped it in surprise. It read
Mr. Sirius Black and his fiancé Mrs.Arabella Figg cordially invite you to celebrate with them their Marriage. Saturday July the twenty first Two o'clock St. Orgdenberg Church, Hogsmeade. Please RSVP by Owl if you wish to bring a guest.
Harry stared at the empty classroom, remembering when he used to walk through the doors, late and hurried. Accosted by a door, a faulty step or Peeves who still lived in the old classroom block. He stared at the third desk from the left, the desk where he usually sat with Ron and Hermione during Defense Against the Dark Arts. It had always been one of his favourite classes, and now he was a professor.
After the war, he had to escape the area. He just couldn't look at anyone anymore. It was as if they would judge him for killing. He couldn't handle it, so he went to Gringotts, filled his pockets with gold and left for two years. He traveled on his broomstick everywhere he could think of, always wearing some kind of hat, to remain incognito in the crowds. He traveled all around Europe, flying by night, exploring the mornings. It wasn't as if he would've been able to sleep. He hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since, well, before the war.
Two years later a letter from Dumbledore (who had survived the war and was still the Headmaster of Hogwarts) persuaded him to return to England and become a professor-Defense Again the Dark Arts. He agreed after much hesitation it was an owl from Sirius that had made him agree to the idea. Sirius had been upset when Harry fled, even though he remained contact. He'd encouraged Harry to move on, his parents, Ron and Hermione, would have all wanted it. He wanted Harry to move on. The war was over, there was nothing left to do but live, Sirius had written. Harry agreed to this a bit reluctant to start over.
He'd started teaching at once, immersing himself in his students and his classes. There was a group of friends, two boys and a girl from Gryffindor house in one of his First year classes. One, clever, one courageous, one funny, they reminded him of himself, Ron and Hermione when they were in school. He sighed, the sigh echoing throughout the empty class room. He sat up at his desk and began to gather his books together. It was time to return to his apartments for some sleep, or attempt at sleep. He stood up and was preparing to leave when Dumbledore entered the room.
"Oh, hello Professor." Harry said plopping back down at his desk with a bit of a sigh. He scratched his head looking at his old mentor.
"Hello Harry." The old man said with a wrinkled smile. Despite the fact that he was a teacher, Dumbledore still called him Harry. Harry liked it better. "Is something troubling you?"
"No," Harry sighed. "Just reminiscing." Dumbledore smiled at him. "That little trio in Gryffindor, brings back memories eh?" The old man's eyes twinkled with delight. His thoughts seemed to wander back to old times for a moment. "Definitely." Harry said with a cold smile. He wanted to see them again, very much so. He sighed and stood up. "Walk with me to the hospital wing Headmaster?" Dumbledore looked at him curiously. "I'm just going to get a sleeping draught."
"Insomnia still bothering you?" Dumbledore asked as they began to walk. Harry nodded. "You know, Harry, there are many magical ways to cure that, you don't need a potion. It's almost the equivalent to a Muggle Sleeping pill."
Harry shook his head and look at the headmaster with tired eyes. He tried to smile a bit and failed. "The muggle stuff is weaker. I still have the dreams. The only good sleep I can find is the sleep draught Madame Pomfrey makes." He sighed. He'd tried everything to obtain a good night's sleep but nothing worked. The sleeping draught did the job but he usually awoke with headaches, stomach aches and weakness.
"Harry, I don't mean to butt into your personal life but when was the last time you spoke Mr.Weasly or Ms.Granger?" Harry raised his eyebrows at the Headmaster. It was a very odd question coming from him. He usually only asked about Sirius (who Harry frequently wrote too and visited at Christmas.)
"Well, " Harry began thinking and realized "after the last battle six years ago. That's when I left. We all went our separate ways that day." The Headmaster looked at him surprised.
"Perhaps it is time." With that final word Dumbledore turned down an opposite hall way and left Harry to go get his sleeping draught.
When Harry returned to his apartments, ready to sleep he noticed a heavy cream coloured envelope sitting on his desk. He cut it open, read the letter and smiled. Mr. Sirius Black and his fiancé Mrs. Arabella Figg cordially invite you to celebrate with them their Marriage Saturday July the twenty first Two o'clock St. Orgdenberg Church, Hogsmeade. Please RSVP by Owl if you wish to bring a guest. PS- Would you be my best man?
Author: Jamsel
Rating: PG
Summary: When three best friends fall apart and leave each other creating three different tales. What happens when they begin to interweave? Perhaps a bit of Romance.
Pairing: Maybe R/Hr
Disclaimer: as someone else wrote. I'm just a fanfic author. JKR owns the characters I just play in her playground.
"Have I waited to long
Have I found that someone
Have I waited to long
To see you"- New Found Glory taken from Hit or Miss
Hermione sprinted down the driveway as fast as she could, her lungs burning in the night air. She grabbed a tree branch and swung herself up and over the seven foot stone wall, landing cat like on the other side. She took a minute to regain her footing and continued the sprint to her car. Taking a minute to look back up at the mansion she noticed that a few lights had turned on. Quickly, she jumped into her car and sped off down the road.
The job had come to her by telephone, the buyer hadn't identified themselves but they had offered her five hundred thousand Galleons to steal eight different rings, all in different highly protected homes or museums. This was her second ring, they were rather remarkably plain, white gold with a single letter engraved on the inside of each. She never questioned her jobs anymore, she just took them. She never accepted jobs worth under two hundred and fifty thousand anymore. It was an insult.
The life of a thief, she found, was rather enjoyable. She'd thrown ethics out the window when her old life had come to a halt. She'd become a thief out of desperation for something to put her excess energy into. And she'd become a very, very good one. No one (in the black market circle) really knew who she was. They'd nicknamed her "The Shadow," because she had never failed a job. Ever. She pulled in the most money out of anyone within the circle and she was nothing but a mere rumour to most.
She turned off the main road and pulled onto a short side road. After a few minutes she turned off the side road onto an old country road. She bumped along the road and eventually came up to a wooden gate. She climbed out of the car and unlocked the creaky gate. As she drove up to her mansion, she smiled. It was a beautiful old house, full of cozy rooms and fireplaces that she spent the weekends reading in.
Her maid, Esmerelda, came to greet her and handed her a letter that had just come by owl. It was a heavy envelope, her name spelled out in purple ink on the cream coloured front. She entered her mansion and jogged up the stairs flipping the water on in her bath tub. Zipping open her backpack she removed the ring studying with curiosity. She still couldn't understand why this ring was so important. Shrugging Hermione placed the ring in a box inside of her safe and recovered the safe with a hanging tapestry. Shrugging out of her black clothing she sank into the bathtub, grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. It was a wedding invitation. Curiously, she flipped it in and read it. She gasped and almost dropped it into the water.
Mr. Sirius Black and his fiancé Mrs. Arabella Figg cordially invite you to celebrate with them their Marriage Saturday July the twenty first Two o'clock St. Orgdenberg Church, Hogsmeade. Please RSVP by Owl if you wish to bring a guest. Ron Weasley shook his head staring at the crumbled walls of the small motel room. The walls were water stained and the bedcovers looked moldy. He shrugged and dropped his things. He needed sleep and this was a bed. Sighing he fell back upon the bed covers. Life as an auror was never as glamorous as people thought. Sighing he leaned back into the pillow and tried to close his eyes. He couldn't keep them closed. For some reason he had to get up. He sat at the edge of the bed and rummaged around until he found a small photo book. He always carried it with him but never looked at them. He didn't know why.
Sitting cross legged in the center of the bed he opened the photo book. The picture instantly made him smile. It was a picture the Hogwarts school photographer had taken when he, Hermione and Harry had been reunited. They were all smiling up at him, arms around one another. They had been so innocent. He sighed, not wanting to continue. The war had taken so much from him, the biggest loss, his friends.
He hadn't heard from either of them since it ended, six long years ago. They'd fought together for two years after leaving school, fought for their freedom and the freedom of wizards everywhere. And they won. He sighed. But the war had taken its toll on himself and his friends. When it was all over, he remembered that day and he would forever, they all went their separate ways. Hermione had been broken, he hated himself for letting that happen to her, Harry just looked tired. He was the first to leave. He'd just jumped on his broomstick and flown away. Not a word to anyone, not even Sirius. Hermione had run after that and himself. He sighed and turned the page.
It was a picture from the summer, when they'd all been at his house after first year. Smiling happily in the garden of the Burrow. The next picture of the trio in the common room, the next of them reunited at the feast, when Hermione woke up from being petrified. The one after that the trio after the Sirius Black ordeal in Third Year. He smiled to himself remembering good ol' Sirius. How he'd cared so much for Harry and the gang.
The picture book told the tale of The Trio at Hogwarts, each year at least three photographs and more telling of the major events. Those had been the best years of his life. He'd give anything to see his friends again. He flipped to the final page of the book, at the picture he knew was coming. He feared that picture so much. It was a picture of Hermione and him, sometime in the final three months of school. She'd jumped on his back and he was holding her. They were both laughing, not looking at the photographer. It was his last happy memory of that year. It was the last memory he'd had of her smiling, laughing. Emotion over came him and he slammed the book shut. He hated himself. He blamed himself for letting her get taken. He wished ever day that he could turn back time and save her, help her. Harry, Ginny, everyone had told him to let it go. But he couldn't. She'd felt so much pain, seen so much pain. He hated himself for letting that happen to her. He hated himself for letting her be tainted by the powers of Voldemort. Sighing he leaned back into the pillows and attempted to close his eyes when he heard a rapping at the window. Wand drawn he threw open the musty curtain to find an Owl hovering outside. He sighed and opened the window and the owl flew inside covered in rain. It dropped a heavy looking envelope on the table with his name written on it in purple ink and flew back out into the storm. Curiously he picked up the letter and closed the window. It was a wedding invitation. He flipped it open and dropped it in surprise. It read
Mr. Sirius Black and his fiancé Mrs.Arabella Figg cordially invite you to celebrate with them their Marriage. Saturday July the twenty first Two o'clock St. Orgdenberg Church, Hogsmeade. Please RSVP by Owl if you wish to bring a guest.
Harry stared at the empty classroom, remembering when he used to walk through the doors, late and hurried. Accosted by a door, a faulty step or Peeves who still lived in the old classroom block. He stared at the third desk from the left, the desk where he usually sat with Ron and Hermione during Defense Against the Dark Arts. It had always been one of his favourite classes, and now he was a professor.
After the war, he had to escape the area. He just couldn't look at anyone anymore. It was as if they would judge him for killing. He couldn't handle it, so he went to Gringotts, filled his pockets with gold and left for two years. He traveled on his broomstick everywhere he could think of, always wearing some kind of hat, to remain incognito in the crowds. He traveled all around Europe, flying by night, exploring the mornings. It wasn't as if he would've been able to sleep. He hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since, well, before the war.
Two years later a letter from Dumbledore (who had survived the war and was still the Headmaster of Hogwarts) persuaded him to return to England and become a professor-Defense Again the Dark Arts. He agreed after much hesitation it was an owl from Sirius that had made him agree to the idea. Sirius had been upset when Harry fled, even though he remained contact. He'd encouraged Harry to move on, his parents, Ron and Hermione, would have all wanted it. He wanted Harry to move on. The war was over, there was nothing left to do but live, Sirius had written. Harry agreed to this a bit reluctant to start over.
He'd started teaching at once, immersing himself in his students and his classes. There was a group of friends, two boys and a girl from Gryffindor house in one of his First year classes. One, clever, one courageous, one funny, they reminded him of himself, Ron and Hermione when they were in school. He sighed, the sigh echoing throughout the empty class room. He sat up at his desk and began to gather his books together. It was time to return to his apartments for some sleep, or attempt at sleep. He stood up and was preparing to leave when Dumbledore entered the room.
"Oh, hello Professor." Harry said plopping back down at his desk with a bit of a sigh. He scratched his head looking at his old mentor.
"Hello Harry." The old man said with a wrinkled smile. Despite the fact that he was a teacher, Dumbledore still called him Harry. Harry liked it better. "Is something troubling you?"
"No," Harry sighed. "Just reminiscing." Dumbledore smiled at him. "That little trio in Gryffindor, brings back memories eh?" The old man's eyes twinkled with delight. His thoughts seemed to wander back to old times for a moment. "Definitely." Harry said with a cold smile. He wanted to see them again, very much so. He sighed and stood up. "Walk with me to the hospital wing Headmaster?" Dumbledore looked at him curiously. "I'm just going to get a sleeping draught."
"Insomnia still bothering you?" Dumbledore asked as they began to walk. Harry nodded. "You know, Harry, there are many magical ways to cure that, you don't need a potion. It's almost the equivalent to a Muggle Sleeping pill."
Harry shook his head and look at the headmaster with tired eyes. He tried to smile a bit and failed. "The muggle stuff is weaker. I still have the dreams. The only good sleep I can find is the sleep draught Madame Pomfrey makes." He sighed. He'd tried everything to obtain a good night's sleep but nothing worked. The sleeping draught did the job but he usually awoke with headaches, stomach aches and weakness.
"Harry, I don't mean to butt into your personal life but when was the last time you spoke Mr.Weasly or Ms.Granger?" Harry raised his eyebrows at the Headmaster. It was a very odd question coming from him. He usually only asked about Sirius (who Harry frequently wrote too and visited at Christmas.)
"Well, " Harry began thinking and realized "after the last battle six years ago. That's when I left. We all went our separate ways that day." The Headmaster looked at him surprised.
"Perhaps it is time." With that final word Dumbledore turned down an opposite hall way and left Harry to go get his sleeping draught.
When Harry returned to his apartments, ready to sleep he noticed a heavy cream coloured envelope sitting on his desk. He cut it open, read the letter and smiled. Mr. Sirius Black and his fiancé Mrs. Arabella Figg cordially invite you to celebrate with them their Marriage Saturday July the twenty first Two o'clock St. Orgdenberg Church, Hogsmeade. Please RSVP by Owl if you wish to bring a guest. PS- Would you be my best man?