Main Title: Core magic
Chapter - ONE
Chapter title: the woods
Author: Billybob
Category: AU, alternate universe …set in DH
Main pairing; rbwHJG
Word count: 2,448 (plus or minus a few)
Rated: M, - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and implied sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.
Summary: the dance in the tent between HP and HJG bugged me. The director I'm told is a harmoine shipper - - but still it bugged me, because I'm a devoted rbwHJG shipper. Now the concept of Harry and Hermione getting together temporarily at the end of HBP is not a new one in fan-fiction, I've used the concept myself. So this is just another one.
The opening scene in this story was heavily inspired by 'Those Four Last Days of the War' - as originally written by; oscarpaz00 - - Fanfictiondotnet id #:7192398. I recommend it for those who like uber-powerful Ron's. The major differences between his tale and mine start with - one) the character of Ron himself, mine isn't all powerful and - - secondly and more important - - what happens after they first meet in the forest of Dean and that's when his story turns left and I go right.
(This is not actually an HP-HG ship, although it starts out that way)
Warning (one): Unbridled butchery of the King's English is a common facet of this writer's modis operendi and I have also been rightfully accused of: - gross punctuation and grammar errors, obscene ramblings on tangents that distract from the main plot and repeating already stated facts and plot points over and over. (I warned them, 'BuckNC' – what more can you ask)
Warning (two): The tale you are about to read is not at all flattering to the chosen one, or the bushy-haired…know-it-all member of the Hogwarts trio. Modern Heroes are not perfect demi-God's, they are more often than not - just human beings with real flaws. If you can accept this premise then by all means read on.
Warning (three); I will pick and choose items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.
Author's disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my few readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?
Again - - this is Rated M / alternate universe
And now ...lights - camera - action!
OoOoOoOo
February 1, 1998
A sudden ripple disturbed the calm air and, without the slightest sound, a man appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the snow covered forest. During the first few minutes he simply stood perfectly still, like a statue, with eyes closed… taking in his surroundings, just listening. He reached out mentally with his magic, probing the surrounding area for any trace of magic beyond his intended targets. Every living thing within five hundred yards came under his scrutiny …was examined and dismissed. No other magical signatures were noted beyond the two… that was good.
The wizard was dressed in earth tone trousers of brown, a tight matching jumper and black leather boots; a snow white camouflage travelling cloak was hanging over his shoulders, the hood of the cloak pulled-up to cover his head with a ski-mask of white covering his face. This attire made him blend into his surroundings perfectly and aided furtherer by the darkness of the night itself, it was as if he was invisible in plain sight - - like a hole had appeared in the fabric of the night of this silent, eerie forest. He was discernible only due to the shimmering of the snow that gently dropped through the thin layer of clouds covering the sky above and onto his cloak.
It would have been impossible for anyone, given the lack of light, to know where he was unless he moved; for thus was the great advantage of the chameleon cloaking that he wore. A prized procession of hit-wizards and assassins; the garment literally made the man invisible without using any detectable spell to render himself magically invisible.
After assuring himself that his arrival had gone unseen he stepped off without a sound …like a ninja of ancient japan his sense of direction was flawless - for this man didn't seem to have any problem at all navigating in the darkness of a moonless night. A flick of his hand and the marks in the snow made by his boots behind him filled in - leaving nothing to track. His hood barely moved for he didn't need to look around to see what was around him for his magic gave him a complete three hundred and sixty degree view of his surroundings as if it was the middle of daytime.
The forest was a big one; the barely visible trees around him were tall, wide and old, and the entire place seemed dead silent, as if no magical folk lived there. But he knew better. He knew that they were there; all alone ... The most wanted boy and girl in the entire Wizarding World. They were in that forest, hidden from their enemy. And now he had returned, after all that had happened, deliberately setting out to find them again, something no one else had been able to do. He was almost there, about to meet them, about to see them ... after so long.
He took a deep breath, taking in the cold air of the forest and its distinctive smells, and he remembered the last time he had been in this this part of the country. It had been summer then - - but upon reflection he found that he preferred the snow-covered grounds of winter. The lack of leaves on the trees meant his vision was not obstructed by the foliage which would give him more warning if an enemy approached. His mind wandered to the time he had spent on the islands of the North Sea, during his long journey of self-discovery, the strong winds and fierce storms - - Oh, how things had changed since then! He liked the gentle snow much more now, for starters; it felt like being home.
His feet weren't making any missteps as he moved over the snow, he didn't stumble over snow covered fallen branches. There were no snaps from broken twigs, for he moved as silent as death itself, as he had been trained - - like a ghost of transparent white - - avoiding the trees and other obstacles with the same self-assurance as if it was summer and the sun was shining high above him. He went on for about a few hundred yards, at which point the invisible path he was walking along turned slightly upwards, leading into a bunch of thick oak trees. He moved in-between them, and, once through, he found himself on the edge of a tree-free, circular-shaped hollow with a diameter of about seventy feet.
There he stopped.
To a passerby this area was empty, but the faint odors he smelled gave it all away, few trackers besides blood hounds used the sense of smell, to pursue criminals - and the UK was far too big a place to make DE led magical blood-hound team's practical. A wave of his free hand and the small lonely tent could now be seen in the center of the hollow, and no lights could be seen aglow inside it. No sound could be heard coming from it, either.
He could smell the faint odor of old, wore-thin canvas and the embers of a neglected fire and yet saw no physical signs of it. He slowly looked around the hollow, and sensed something in the air, a faint magical-glow that surrounded the place: the magical signature of the weak protective enchantments they had put-up to conceal themselves, so no one could see or hear them. These precautions were good enough to fool the average Muggle or wizard, for they were subtle and more importantly up to now they had-worked. Certainly, no casual passerby could have seen the tent or its occupants.
But he wasn't just anyone. Not anymore. When he had decided to find them, nothing in the world could conceal his target from him.
He shook his head sadly with disappointment when he noticed that there were no detection charms to give advanced warning of his approach and no one outside keeping watch. It was the hour before dawn, and they were both inside - in the warmth, sleeping peacefully, awaiting the morning, perhaps dreaming — or hoping — that the new day would bring some change, some progress, something that would made them feel as if they were finally achieving something in this war. From what his master had told him - - neither had clue about the location of the remaining Horcruxes or the means to destroy the one they now carried with them.
The Horcrux...
Under the hood, the man detected something strange and frowned. He closed his eyes, concentrating, letting his mind and his senses see what his eyes could not. He let his magic flow freely, his mind wander, mentally reaching out - - touching, feeling - - and then he perceived it, now much more clearly than before, and a sudden understanding came to him - - two instead of one. He hadn't expected to sense this, but, now that he was close enough, it was perfectly reasonable. He was pretty sure they weren't aware of it, and it was better that way, at least for now. It was useful Intel to have and once his role in this passion-play was done, then they'd have to deal with it - alone.
He extracted a wand from one of his pockets, and waved it slowly before him. The glow indicating the limits of the protective enchantments flickered, and became visible …he took a few steps forward, entering the hollow, silently breaking the charms, but without undoing them and without alerting the people protected by them. He moved forward a few feet and carelessly gathered a pile of rocks that he then silently transfigured into a modest stone garden-bench - - pointing it so it faced the entrance of the tent. Out of his cloak he pulled forth, four …forty-kilo burlap rucksacks, putting them in a neat row in front of his feet. A fair barter for the trinket he had come for.
He then sat down on the bench, crossed his ankles, put his elbows on his thighs palm up in a meditation-stance and became still, his body seemingly relaxed, while transmitting a strange magical aura - - a unique protective barrier of his own design. This ward guarded him and the tent with enchantments a hundred times more powerful than the wards that sheltered Hogwarts. Fully protected he calmly waited for them to wake up, for them to see him, for the new day to arrive… A day which would bring a lot of changes: to the world, to the war - - and to them.
He felt a touch nervous. After not seeing them for so many months, he was unsure as to their effect on him. As he meditated he cleared his mind of all distracting thoughts and emotion, he steeled his mind for the upcoming confrontation. His master had warned him that this would be the single greatest test of his Occlumency shields. For after everything that had happened between them, his notorious hot temper could flare suddenly - - which could easily lead to disaster. Occlumency - properly-done, would banish emotion in exchange for cold calculating logic, for he could not afford to be; upset, nervous, regretful, or angry during this meeting. Get in and out quickly - was the best plan for them all.
Emotions faded and soon he felt nothing at all, instead his mind embraced perfect calm and clarity. Feelings were a weakness - - the Slytherin's truly believed that, and now so did he - - they had been exploited to destroy him once already, and it had been a mistake he could no longer afford to repeat. As he was about to confront his personal Judas - - he was far better-off without them
What he felt about them had to be banished or he couldn't finish the mission. And only that mattered any more. He wasn't here to take revenge against them, for hate like love clouded judgment. He was here because it was a deed that had to be done and it was the right thing to do. Even the help of the two in the tent was not necessary for him to do what he had decided to do. In fact it would be better for all concerned if he did it, alone … he had the power now.
However, unlike his betrayers, the wizard on the stone bench did not have the arrogance to think that his newly found magical 'Might' gave him the right to defy the three sisters of fate. Destiny had set the main-deed for the Chosen One to do, and as he had learned bitterly over the years …there was a high cost in defying destiny.
As the sidekick in this passion-play, he had his role to do certainly and that was the sole reason why he had come. There were no room for feelings for anyone in his heart anymore; no love for family or his former friends, for banishing all earthly ties was part of the price demanded for the power he had been entrusted with. He had exactly one hundred and sixty eight hours before the last act, seven days before the power he wielded was used to end this war and destroy every single enemy he had - - in one massive blow.
After the lady you love tells you you're worthless it's easy to accept a fate as a expendable weapon. He knew the manner and time of his impending death and embraced his demise with calm resignation - - if nothing else it would end his crushing emotional torment. One life in exchange for many was not a bad way to go - epitaph wise. But there was also a sense of supreme rightness in what he was doing that acted as the ultimate form of comfort for a man whose days were truly numbered.
He fixed his eyes in the tent, silently watching, silently observing ... and waited.