"In My Life"
(Partially inspired by the song by John Lennon and Paul McCartney)
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except the plot. And even that's pushing it.
"Nicole, I'm glad you could come on such short notice," said director and agent Tim Werthing, gesturing to the seat across from him. "It's rather important."
"It's not a problem Tim, I didn't have anything planned." said a beautiful girl with curly light brown hair in her late teens.
"I'm glad." He took a seat. "Nicole, you must have noticed how well and quickly your acting career has risen. Your nomination for the academy awards has earned you praise from many people nationwide. Now, your fame has spread internationally." He looked over his glasses at her. She responded with a curious look. "Now that this has happened, a director in England has specially requested you for a leading role in his new production. The film will be produced by New Line Cinema."
The girl, named Hermione, was awestruck. "New Line Cinema?" she asked incredulously. She never expected to work with such a well-known company.
"Yes. Now this is why I had to tell you this minute," he continued. Hermione listened carefully. "It starts filming in two days."
"Two days!" The joy that had filled Hermione flickered. She would surely have to leave tomorrow morning. She sighed in frustration. She wasn't organized enough to pack for six months in about five hours. "Where did you say it was again?"
"In England." Tim put on his "wise man" look. "I suggest you take this, Nicole. It's the chance of a life time."
"I know." She whispered. "But England? Why England?"
"Because that's where the film is going to take place. In London." He gave her a quizzical look. "Why are you so against England? You're from there, aren't you?"
"Well, yes, that's sort of the point." She looked at the floor. After four long years of working hard to forget what she left at home, she did not feel prepared to face the same memorable places, especially in London, where she had lived.
"Tim, I don't think the chance of a lifetime is good enough for me."
"How about a nice paycheck? Perhaps...oh, let's say, several million dollars?"
"Several million?" Hermione stopped looking at the floor. Though highly experienced and famous actresses wouldn't blink at the idea of millions of dollars, Hermione was only eighteen and not yet used to having more money than she knew what to do with.
Tim smiled. "I thought that might work."
Hermione smiled back at him. "I'll get my suitcase."
"We hope you enjoyed the flight." The airline attendant spoke loudly into her microphone.
'This is it.' Hermione thought as she unbuckled her seatbelt and made toward the exit of the plane.
"Thank you for flying American, Ms. Madison."
Hermione put on her fake smile and headed towards the baggage claim. After nearly an hour next to the revolving suitcases, she realized that the airline had lost her luggage and the next flight's passengers were retrieving their bags.
"Shit. The damn airline's lost my luggage." She went to the lost luggage station. "Excuse me?" she rang the little bell on the desk in front of her. Finally a young lady appeared.
"May I help you?"
"Yes," Hermione snapped, "Your airline has lost my luggage, and I have to be in a hotel downtown in less than thirty minutes." No sleep in forty-eight hours was not a good thing for Hermione.
"Your name please?"
"Madison. Nicole Madison." She looked impatiently at her watch.
"Mmmm-hmmm." The flight attendant looked at Hermione with exasperation. "Your real name, please."
Hermione caught sight of her reflection in a small mirror behind the counter and groaned inwardly. Having not slept in forty-eight hours, there were huge bags under Hermione's eyes and her hair was stringy and held up in a messy bun. Not to mention the fact that she was wearing a sweatshirt that was far too large for her and didn't flatter her in the least. She sighed. "Look lady, I haven't gotten much sleep lately, so I'm not looking my most glamorous at this moment, but please, please, just believe me."
The woman frowned, but typed something into her computer. "I'm sorry ma'am, there isn't any record of a Nicole Madison flying on your flight today." She raised an eyebrow as if expecting an explanation.
Hermione thought. Of course! Tim had bought her ticket; the record would have his name, not hers! "Oh, that's because Tim Werthing, my agent, he reserved that ticket. If you look up his name, I'm sure you'll see it."
"Ma'am, I cannot disclose any information concerning anyone else on the flight, or if indeed a Mr. Werthing did reserve a ticket for today, I cannot lawfully tell you so without proper identification."
"Lady, I would show you my drivers' license, that is IF it were not stuck in the suitcase that YOUR airline lost!"
"Ma'am, please step aside."
Hermione was fed up. She shouted to the large group of people standing by the baggage claim. "OI! PEOPLE! DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO NICOLE MADISON IS?"
Many people nodded and looked at her strangely.
"Do I look like Nicole Madison?"
"No, not really." "You? You wish." "Mmmm, maybe a little bit. Not much." Were only a few of the replies she received. "You all need glasses!" She shouted without much point. Then, after glaring at the whole of them, she charged out of the exit and hopped on the first bus that she found. She grabbed a seat and glared at a picture of herself outside of the window. 'Lovely. I knew I didn't want to come back to England.' She scowled as the bus rolled along peacefully. 'I have to meet my new director in an hour, and I won't be able to take a shower, a great first impression.' She started mumbling out loud angrily to herself. "Not Nicole Madison indeed. We'll see where she is when I tell Tim about this. Not Nicole Madison, ha!"
"Excuse me?" A young man with dark hair and green eyes looked at her curiously.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Is this seat taken?" He asked.
"Oh, no, sorry." She moved her coat and put it in her lap. The man sat down and opened a newspaper. Hermione continued to look out of the window. After a minute or so, she saw a black and white reflection of herself in the window. It was moving... "What the-" Hermione said out loud and spun around only to see the man with the newspaper next to her. She cautiously tilted her head to see the name of the newspaper, begging it to be anything but... "Oh." She said out loud. The name 'Daily Prophet' was visible above a large article.
The man looked at her, realized what must have happened, and carefully shoved the newspaper out of sight and reached for something in his pocket.
"Don't even try it." Hermione said. The man tried to look quizzical, but it didn't work. "You ought to be more careful." She said casually. "You can't put a memory charm on everyone you meet."
The young man looked thoroughly relieved. "I'll remember that." he said and smiled. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Nicole. Nicole Madison." she said. "What's yours?" she found it immensely hard not to laugh at the shocked expression on his face. 'At least SOMEONE believes me.' she thought.
"My name's Harry. Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you Ms. Madison." His disheveled hair fell back slightly as he extended his hand.
Nothing in the world could have prepared Hermione for that. She felt an incredible sadness come over her, and she nearly broke down in tears. Before long, however, her acting skills took over and she said, "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you too, Harry. I'm sorry, but this is my stop." she lied and quickly got off the bus.
'Oh my god.' she thought as she turned the corner. 'Why London? Why me?'