Title : A Twist of Fate
By : BloodofInnocence
Category : Harry Potter
Type : Alternate reality/Romance
Status : Incomplete
Chapters : 1
Rating : R
A/N: A Harry/Hermione pairing, if you please.
:groans: Now I sound like a bloody Englishman. :clears throat: Eh…that was a joke. I thought that it would be fun if I imitated an Englishman of his speech.
This takes place after the gang's seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry's in the United States, taking refuge in that country from Voldemort's lingering supporters who were enraged at his death at the hands of the seventeen-year-old. Hermione's visiting a cousin who goes to the same university as Harry, while Ron is in the United States because of a friend.
I don't know if I'll put Draco Malfoy in this fic….we'll see.
Disclaimer: Would I really be writing this if I was the creator of Harry Potter?
Chapter 1
"Hey, Potter!"
The tall young man turned to see a classmate running up to him. "Andrew," he said in his English voice. "I thought that you didn't have any classes today."
"No, I don't, but my cousin's visiting from England. I'm supposed to meet her at campus today."
"Really? What's she like?" the young man asked, his curiosity piqued. Rarely did he hear anyone from England visiting the United States.
Andrew rolled his eyes. "You know, the first in her class, studious, serious, that kind of thing. Oh, yeah, and she gets mad pretty quickly if you're not serious about your studies and that." He gave his companion an amused look. "Long time since you talked with an uptight, snobbish English person, have you?"
"Andrew," the young man said warningly. "I'm from England, you know. It wouldn't be right if you insulted it in front of me."
"All right, all right!" laughed Andrew, holding up his hands. "I surrender! Please save me from the wrath of the infamous Potter!"
The young man sighed in exasperation and shook his head. "You and your American brashness," he sighed wearily. Turning to go, he said, "I have to go to class now, but perhaps we can have a study session later. Call me."
"OK. And be careful not to scare any more people!" called Andrew as the young man walked away. The only acknowledgement he received was the raising of an arm.
As the young man walked away, he let himself be immersed in past memories of England. Hanging out with friends. Learning magic with various professors. Finding and losing friends. Killing…
His hand curled into a fist as he recalled the horrific memories of the end of his seventh—and last—term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His last experience with Voldemort was enough to make anyone break and submit to madness. It was sheer will and determination that made him get back on his feet. Headmaster Dumbledore readily agreed when he requested some time in the United States to deal with his demons. That had been about two years ago.
Now he was at an American university, studying law. It wasn't that he really needed it, but it served as a distracter. He was already a certified Auror, but he couldn't really do that in the United States. He worked under the shadows, training himself in the most dire of situations, including performing magic without a wand. He could control various elements, including wind and water. He could make himself see without his glasses.
But even these accomplishments could not make up for the loss of friends in England. Studious Hermione Granger and amusing Ron Weasley. The three of them had been friends since first year of Hogwarts, and through the seven terms they spent together did they have their share of adventures. He knew that they would have tried to make him stay in England, had they known that he was planning to leave England for the United States. But they did not understand. They were not with him at the final showdown with the Dark Lord. No, he'd prefer if they didn't know anything about it except for the fact that he killed the Dark Lord.
His back straightened as he came into his class. Nothing came out of immersing himself in the past. He had a new life to live, not to dwell in the past and what might have been.
"Hermione!" called a male voice.
Hermione Granger turned to see a blond young man running across campus. "Andrew!" she said joyfully, dropping her bag and returning the hug. "Oh, it's so good to see you." Her brown eyes danced as she surveyed her cousin critically. "You've grown taller," she observed.
"And you shorter." Picking up her bags, Andrew carried them to the car. "How was the flight?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Crowded and noisy. Three babies decided that they didn't like going on an airplane, and the man beside me threw up a lot."
"Yuck. Anyway, Mom's expecting you. I don't have any classes today, so we can sit in the kitchen and catch up on things. Oh yeah, how's things with Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Roger?" Elizabeth and Roger Granger were Hermione's parents and dentists.
"Great. They say hi to your family."
"Great. Let's go!" The two got into the car and drove off. After a tour of the area and a short lunch, they soon arrived at a modest brick house with Virginia creeping ivy scattered over the far wall. Made up of sturdy four floors, it was set against a forest behind the house.
"Your room's in the attic," said Andrew as he hauled the bags from the trunk. "Mom's been redecorating the room ever since you said that you would be visiting. It's all girly and that, with pink and white lace trimmings."
"All right…"
"Hermione!" A thin woman clambered down the steps, accompanied by two girls around Hermione's age. She opened her arms for a hug. "It's so good to see you," the woman said.
"Hello, Aunt Patricia. I trust things are well?" Hermione's English upbringing was very evident in her words and accent.
"Yes, yes. Oh, you're the spitting image of my sister. Come in, come in! Andrew, bring the bags to the attic."
Andrew saluted his mother. "Aye, aye, mon capitaine." He only laughed when his mother threw him a dirty look.
"Now, how are things in England? You've graduated college, haven't you?" asked Patricia, putting the kettle on the stove.
"The school that I went to has a senior secondary school and college combined together. I graduated two years ago."
"Two years ago? When you were seventeen?"
"Yes." Hermione put in tea leaves and immediately put in cream. Americans and their tea bags. Sipping it, she said, "Acquaintances and I graduated at the same time, then parted ways."
"Didn't you have two male friends in particular?" asked Patricia, setting out a plate of cookies.
"Yes. Ron is currently in Romania with his brother, and…" Hermione hesitated, sadness filling her eyes as she recalled memories of the past.
"Hermione?"
"Harry…disappeared soon after graduation, perhaps after two months, I believe…yes. Two months. Nobody knows where he is. He's broken communication with everyone he knew in England."
"I'm sorry," said Patricia compassionately. She instantly recognized the young girl's feelings. She was in love, the poor girl, for a man who wasn't spotted for about two years, and it was clear that she was still in love.
"Mom, Harry's probably coming over for a study session," said Andrew, sticking his head in.
"Good. The young man's a good influence on you, Andrew. Perhaps you can learn something from him."
"Hey!" Andrew protested. "I study!"
"Not enough," said Patricia severely. She turned to Hermione. "Andrew has an acquaintance who, incidentally, grew up in England. He arrived here a few years ago to study at the same university as Andrew, and the two became friends. He's a very charming young man, and a heartbreaker, I warrant."
"A heartbreaker?" asked Hermione, interested.
"He has this sad quality," said one of Patricia's three daughters, Penelope, a dreamy look filling her eyes. "Like he's haunted. It drives girls wild."
"And he's from England, remember," said another daughter, Olivia.
"Yeah…and those dreamy eyes," sighed the last, Rachel.
"Oh, I see."
A doorbell rang throughout the house. Patricia moved to stand, but sat back down when Andrew came swiftly down the stairs to the front door. Heaving it open, he exclaimed, "You really did come over!"
The visitor said dryly, "And let you fail midterms? I think not, Andrew." The voice was English, a smooth male voice honeyed with culture and sophistication.
Andrew scowled, then said, "Come in, come in! You have to meet my cousin!"
"All right." The front door closed, and footsteps approached the kitchen.
"Mom, do you think I look all right in this white sweater?" Penelope quickly asked.
"Yes, yes, you do," said Patricia impatiently. The five girls looked up when the two males came into the kitchen. Patricia stood and said, "Harry! It's so good to see you."
The visitor inclined his head. "Likewise, Mrs. Leplace. It has been sometime, has it not?" He cast his eyes over the three preening daughters and his mouth curved into a smile. "And your daughters have gotten more lovely."
"Oh, Harry, you," laughed Patricia, then drew Hermione forward. "Harry, this is Andrew's cousin visiting from England. Hermione, this is Harry, a friend of Andrew's."
Hermione focused on the emerald eyes glazed with shock with her own. Those eyes were so familiar…"Harry…?"
"Hermione!" Shock paralyzed his mind, rendering him immobile as disastrous thoughts flooded his brain.
"Hermione? You know Harry?" asked Patricia.
Hermione turned to her aunt, still shocked by his appearance. "Aunt Patricia," she said numbly, "the Harry I was talking about…is standing right in front of you."
Patricia blinked, amazed at the turn of events in her household. One of her relatives long ago had joked that her house was the place of coincidence, and this was no exception. The two were clearly startled to see each other, enforcing Hermione's assertion that Harry did not contact any of his British acquaintances. It was the same thing as Harry not mentioning anyone he knew from England, either.
Hermione wheeled around to poke a finger at the startled Harry's chest. "You jerk! You left England without telling anyone! How could you? And then here I find you, all relaxed and that, while I and the others in England were worrying out of our minds about you, thinking that you were dead! Then Professor Dumbledore hinted that you might be dead even if you killed Voldemort—and don't you dare flinch, Andrew!—and Professor Lupin decided to confirm that you were dead! I already lost Hagrid, and I thought that I lost you too!" she went on, ranting as she paced the kitchen, glaring at her dumbfounded female cousins who feebly protested at her accusations. The three scurried away and looked at Hermione as if she had grown another head.
All the while Harry had kept silent, letting Hermione vent her feelings long suppressed in an effort to move on in life. He mentally cursed himself for being so careless. He should have sensed her in the same country as he was, but it was clear that he was getting rusty by adapting to the American Muggle life. He should have known that Hermione would recognize him instantly. Clever Hermione with her keen mind and quick wit. Even after the transformation he underwent after arriving at the United States she still recognized him. He then realized that she would always recognize him, in any disguise, in any environment.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Harry said quietly, "Are you finished, Hermione?"
Taking a deep breath, Hermione glared at him, saying, "For the time being." She sat back down on the seat, gulping her now-lukewarm tea. Harry took a seat near her, accepting a cup of tea from a shaken Patricia. Like Hermione did earlier, he put in a spoonful of cream and mixed it into his tea with some sugar. Sipping it, he stared straight ahead as Hermione stared at him. Andrew sat between them and swiveled his head between the two silent people, wondering what was going on.
Finally Hermione broke the tense silence. "Why?" she asked simply.
Harry looked over at her. "Why?" he echoed. His emerald eyes bore into her eyes as he repeated her one-word question. "Think about it, Hermione. You do remember what happened during seventh year," he said.
"Yes."
"It wasn't simple as that, Hermione. It was a bitter struggle between the Dark Lord and myself. I did not just kill him. In fact, it was a long time before I was able to. Before I killed him, things happened. Things beyond recalling, beyond memory. I still have the scar he inflicted on me." He thoughtfully ran a finger against the long scar on his right cheek. The thunderbolt scar had disappeared, but the other scar remained.
"The Dark Lord made sure that there would be some physical mark on me in remembrance of our last meeting. But the scar that runs deep the most is the memory.
"You and Ron couldn't possibly understand what I went through, given that you weren't there at the final showdown. After I healed and was given the approval by Madame Pomfrey to go out of the Hospital Wing, I spoke to Professor Dumbledore about my future. I requested to go out of the country, because I couldn't handle being there and try to go back to the times when I was young and innocent. He agreed, and talked to Professor Lupin in how to explain my disappearance. Professor Lupin agreed to say that I died from my injuries, and in the dead of the night I disappeared from England. I came here with my luggage and admission into a Muggle university so I could work with a distraction. For two years I lived my life. Until now."
"But that did not give you the prerogative to just to up and leave without a word, Harry. All of us thought you as dead. Is that not worse than knowing that you are safe and out of harm's way?" demanded Hermione, crushed that Harry would do something like that, as to leave without a word.
"They would have hurt you, Hermione, if I told you where I went," said Harry darkly. "The lingering Dark Eaters would have tortured to gain any hope of knowing where I was. For that, I could not stay. I could not stand the fact that you would be hurt if I lingered or let you know where I was."
"But is it not worth it to be among friends instead of being by yourself?" asked Hermione.
"It would have been, but given the circumstances, I could not stay." Harry stood up and wandered over to the terrace doors, looking out at the sun-gilded horizon. "To risk even more lives would be disastrous."
"So you left," said Hermione quietly, "to preserve your friends instead of risking them."
"Yes."
Silence hung heavily as Hermione digested Harry's account of what happened after the death of Voldemort, the Dark Lord. Andrew sat uncomfortably, noticing the currents between his friend and his cousin. He knew that they were friends, but somehow he sensed that it was more than mere friendship the two felt. The tension was much too thick and ambiguous for friendship on the rocks. Perhaps they were lovers…?
Harry stood. "I have some business to do at work. Andrew, we'll study together some other time."
"But you have to stay for dinner! Dad's been wanting to talk to you about something!" protested Andrew.
Harry shook his head. "My apologies." Picking up his books, he quickly let himself out of the house and headed for his apartment.
"Hermione? Are you all right?" asked Patricia gently.
"Y-yes. Just a little shaken." Hermione stood up, and said, "I'll go up to the room and unpack." She, too, exited the kitchen, heading towards her sanctuary.
A/N: Um….There you have it. My first Harry Potter fic. Does anyone like them::Looks up hopefully:
Sorry for the inconvenience, but for people who would like to see continuing chapters of this fic, and others, will have to go to the Yahoo! Groups called "BloodofInnocenceFanfiction" or something like that. There you can do bunches of stuff.
Thank you for reading and review!