Author's Note: *sigh* Yes, I know. I said I would finish those other fics
before I started in on this idea. For those of you who would like to quote
what I said about finishing, it's in Chapter 6 of Sparks (hey, go read that
one, too! A bunch of people reviewed and assured me it didn't suck.), but
some other people have got the idea for an AF/HP (for all you culturally
ignorant, HP stands for Harry Potter), like Chuthulupenguin (which I can
type out cause I'm good with big words, exempli gratia miscellaneous,
onomatopoeia, deoxyribonucleic acid, concatenation; oh, hey, go read hers
(I think she's a she, anyway. Oh man. Parentheses within parentheses. o_0)
too. It's pretty good, but its title is SO long that I'm not going to type
it out. You'll just have to look.) Anyway, please read this fic. I live for
feedback. And to all you HP-haters out there: at least read the first
sentence. If you're very good and review regularly maybe I'll kill off
Harry. ^_^
Hermione Granger was hating life. Without her last three years of magical training, and having missed four years of muggle education, her career options in either world were severely limited. But at age fifteen, she hadn't really had a choice. Her parents decided that maybe a world in which psychotic mass murderers with armies of "death eaters" and "dementors" wreaked havoc on civilization wasn't the kind of place they wanted their baby to live. Without graduating from magical school, she hadn't been allowed to keep her wand. She had struggled in muggle school socially and academically, and had ended up just scraping a GED.
So here she was, Hermione Granger, an English witch living as an American law-enforcement agent, driving a crappy Crown Victoria by day and an even crappier Nova by night. She was ugly, her cat had left her, she had no friends, she made a paltry living, her talent went unrecognized and unused, and her partner was a complete nincompoop. He couldn't even pronounce 'Hermione' right. No one in this entire godforsaken country could. HER-MY- OH-KNEE. It really wasn't that difficult.
Hermione Granger was hating life.
"Hey, Hermany," said Davis. At the sound of his abrasive, nasal voice, she reflexively reached for her gun before realizing once again that she shouldn't shoot her own partner. She sighed.
"Yes, Davis. What is it?"
"I just remembered I got a dental appointment this afternoon. I'm gonna have to ditch you."
She rolled here eyes and willed herself not to go for her gun again. "Davis," she said carefully, "you had a dental appointment yesterday. How often can your misaligned pearly whites possibly need fluoride?"
"I just have to leave now."
"No, you don't. We're checking out this area for possible chemical contamination. We'll leave just as soon as we're finished, and then you can go get flossed and fluorided till your eyes bubble."
"Why are we here again?"
Oh, lord, thought Hermione. Time to bust out the sarcasm. "Well, Davis, I think it has something to do with the fact that twelve area residents have been reduced to drooling, stuttering, amnesiacs in the last week."
"But if--"
Suddenly, there was a noise behind her back. Davis's jaw dropped open. "Obl," said a deep voice behind her before she whirled around and punched its lights out. The red-headed figure crumpled to the ground, wand in hand.
"That man just appeared out of nowhere!" Davis exclaimed.
Hermione had a sickening premonition as she knelt next to the comatose wizard. She lifted his head off his shoulder. Oh no. It was Percy Weasley. Action, action, action, Hermione, she thought to herself, do something quick! She grabbed the wand and pointed it at the unconscious Weasley- spawn.
"Obliviate!" she commanded, and felt again the power of magic surging through her fingers. She turned to her partner. "Obliviate!" she said again. Davis's eyes went out of focus and he swayed on his feet.
Percy stirred. Hermione put that to a stop with a swift kick to the head. She needed time to think. What to do with the body? Davis couldn't be allowed to see it again. Perhaps more importantly, what to do with the wand? If she left it with Percy, he could see that it had been last used to cast a memory charm. There was no telling how much he'd remember. If he found that he'd been zapped with his own wand, he'd know that he'd stumbled across a wizard or witch outside of boundaries.
If she took the wand with her, she'd be back in business. A witch again. She could leave behind her stupid job, leave behind Davis, leave behind all these imbeciles who couldn't manage a simple four-syllable name.
The decision about the wand didn't take long to make. She tucked it in her holster, and put her jacket on to hide it.
Now about that body. For good measure, she kicked Percy in the head again, on the other side, and dragged him over to some nearby woods. She smeared dirt on his face and hair for camouflage. Couldn't have more muggles finding him hidden there. She checked her watch. Davis would be coming around soon.
She sat on the grass next to him and waited.
Hermione Granger was hating life. Without her last three years of magical training, and having missed four years of muggle education, her career options in either world were severely limited. But at age fifteen, she hadn't really had a choice. Her parents decided that maybe a world in which psychotic mass murderers with armies of "death eaters" and "dementors" wreaked havoc on civilization wasn't the kind of place they wanted their baby to live. Without graduating from magical school, she hadn't been allowed to keep her wand. She had struggled in muggle school socially and academically, and had ended up just scraping a GED.
So here she was, Hermione Granger, an English witch living as an American law-enforcement agent, driving a crappy Crown Victoria by day and an even crappier Nova by night. She was ugly, her cat had left her, she had no friends, she made a paltry living, her talent went unrecognized and unused, and her partner was a complete nincompoop. He couldn't even pronounce 'Hermione' right. No one in this entire godforsaken country could. HER-MY- OH-KNEE. It really wasn't that difficult.
Hermione Granger was hating life.
"Hey, Hermany," said Davis. At the sound of his abrasive, nasal voice, she reflexively reached for her gun before realizing once again that she shouldn't shoot her own partner. She sighed.
"Yes, Davis. What is it?"
"I just remembered I got a dental appointment this afternoon. I'm gonna have to ditch you."
She rolled here eyes and willed herself not to go for her gun again. "Davis," she said carefully, "you had a dental appointment yesterday. How often can your misaligned pearly whites possibly need fluoride?"
"I just have to leave now."
"No, you don't. We're checking out this area for possible chemical contamination. We'll leave just as soon as we're finished, and then you can go get flossed and fluorided till your eyes bubble."
"Why are we here again?"
Oh, lord, thought Hermione. Time to bust out the sarcasm. "Well, Davis, I think it has something to do with the fact that twelve area residents have been reduced to drooling, stuttering, amnesiacs in the last week."
"But if--"
Suddenly, there was a noise behind her back. Davis's jaw dropped open. "Obl," said a deep voice behind her before she whirled around and punched its lights out. The red-headed figure crumpled to the ground, wand in hand.
"That man just appeared out of nowhere!" Davis exclaimed.
Hermione had a sickening premonition as she knelt next to the comatose wizard. She lifted his head off his shoulder. Oh no. It was Percy Weasley. Action, action, action, Hermione, she thought to herself, do something quick! She grabbed the wand and pointed it at the unconscious Weasley- spawn.
"Obliviate!" she commanded, and felt again the power of magic surging through her fingers. She turned to her partner. "Obliviate!" she said again. Davis's eyes went out of focus and he swayed on his feet.
Percy stirred. Hermione put that to a stop with a swift kick to the head. She needed time to think. What to do with the body? Davis couldn't be allowed to see it again. Perhaps more importantly, what to do with the wand? If she left it with Percy, he could see that it had been last used to cast a memory charm. There was no telling how much he'd remember. If he found that he'd been zapped with his own wand, he'd know that he'd stumbled across a wizard or witch outside of boundaries.
If she took the wand with her, she'd be back in business. A witch again. She could leave behind her stupid job, leave behind Davis, leave behind all these imbeciles who couldn't manage a simple four-syllable name.
The decision about the wand didn't take long to make. She tucked it in her holster, and put her jacket on to hide it.
Now about that body. For good measure, she kicked Percy in the head again, on the other side, and dragged him over to some nearby woods. She smeared dirt on his face and hair for camouflage. Couldn't have more muggles finding him hidden there. She checked her watch. Davis would be coming around soon.
She sat on the grass next to him and waited.