Hello everyone and welcome to my very first really action adventure fan fiction. I will warn you: it has very little romance at all, so if that is mostly what you want, this really isn't your type of fan fiction. Don't get me wrong, I love romance, but this story is primarily action adventure. And maybe a ¼ of a teaspoon of romance, and that's about it. I think I am reiterating (that is to say, saying the same thing over again in a different way) so I'll just get on with my story.
Story name: Lost Isle (that's a really sucky name, but I don't know any other title that won't give away the story, so it might change about half way though. If anyone has any good ideas about a title, give me a holler through e mail or review, either which)
Basic summary: Just before the big battle of good and evil starts in the wizarding world, Hermione runs away, for reasons unknown. To California. She tries to ignore her roots, but soon, she stumbles onto something that she cannot ignore, and she is the only one who knows about it.
Disclaimer: Not mine. You know it. I know it. This is the reason it is on FanFiction.net and not in J.K. Rowling's book. Some of the plot isn't even mine, because it resembles a plot from an already published book, written by one of my favorite adventure authors, even though sometimes he has a lot of technical stuff in his books which make them hard to understand for the average laymen. I'll give you a cookie (figurative of course) if you guess whose.
Any who, on to the story!!!
Prologue
I, Hermione Granger wanted out. I was done with the wizarding world. I wanted to run away from it all with my little coward tail between my legs and forget it all. To use a term, I was more of a poet than a fighter, though most of my poetry sucked. The first battle I was in wasn't even that big. But I was scared anyway. With bodies lying on the ground, unforgivable curses whizzing through the air, I though I was going to pass out. Harry and Ron were fine; they where up there with everyone else, blast the deatheaters and trading reckless laughs. I was on my knees retching behind them all, wishing to die and be done with it. I wonder, if they had that happen at Waterloo and all the other famous battles, wouldn't they have painted it in the pictures? I suppose not. When this is said and done, I certainly won't be painted in any pictures. I'll probably be just a footnote.
There are no distinguishing marks on a person who is killed with Avanda Kedavra, but that doesn't mean they don't decay. Out on the battle field, with at least 85 degree heat, the smell was worse than I ever could've imagined. And their eyes, just staring up, the whites of their eyes pale as their skin. Every time I think back on that battle, I have a cold lightning like shiver run up and down my spine.
After the battle, when everyone else is talking, I was still haunted by the faces of the fallen, and I had nightmares about them for well over a month. And so I ran. Far away form what I believed to be the epicenter to the largest war I had ever seen or heard of.
I thought to myself, where could I go? No where in Europe, surely, so it was to America, to a little coastal town in California where there wasn't even high speed internet. I thought I could stay here and not get involved with anything going on. Boy, was I dead wrong. Dead dead wrong.
Chapter 1
Hermione Granger sat at a bar stool, at a bar that was in a need of a good fixer up. Sipping at a root beer at a bar that needed a dusting, she sat in silence. The TV behind her mounted on the wall was blaring about mass murders and kidnappings in Europe, and suspects. She sighed. I won't be able to run from it much longer, she thought with a sigh.
"Turn that crap off Bill." She said to the regular sitting closest to the TV. It was turned off, and an empty silence filled the dirty tavern.
"I'm turnin' on some good music Hermione." Said Charlie Maude, the barkeep. (a/n: I'm Maude! Charles F. Maude! Sorry, inside joke that I had to include!) He tuned the radio, and found a country station with Johnny Cash singing about a ring of fire.
Hermione had become accustomed to sad country songs about lost love and cowboys, and her favorite was 'Night Riders in the Sky', though she was partial to Toby Keith. She downed the rest of her bottle and got another one from Maude.
As he was uncapping her bottle of Lost Trail, he leaned over to her and said, "How 'bout those characters comin' in the door?" She turned around, expecting to see some fluffed up business man speaking on a cell phone, but what she saw instead gave her stomach a lurch quite unrelated to her need to belch.
They were cloaked in dark robes, and were speaking to each other in low suspicious voices.
"…He wants us to travel like muggles, since they're monitoring apparation work. Down right primitive, it is…" then they became aware that just about everyone (save a couple making out in the back corner) was listening in. Then they silently found a booth and began their conversation in low whispers. The previous noise slowly went back to its previous level (a dull hum).
"Whaddaya reckon?" said Maude in a low tone. "You okay Hermione?" Because Hermione recognized the cloaked figures. It not anyone from the order, it was Avery and McNair, two high profile deatheaters. If they were to spot her, there was no telling what they might do. She had swiveled around on her barstool and had fixed her eyes, horrified, at the Budweiser sign hanging over the shelves of hard liquor. "Do you know those two?" Her expression told him all he needed to know. "I'll take care of this." He said gruffly, walking out from behind the bar. Hermione watched him by the mirror. He walked over to the table.
"Can I get you boys anything?" He said, slightly polite.
"I'll take white Zinfandel." Said Avery. Hermione snorted though her horror. Avery didn't seem the champagne type. Maude squinted his eyes at him.
"I'm afraid we don't serve that here. It'll be beer or whisky." He said, in a mostly good natured voice. Avery exploded. It seemed that he had had just about enough over the last few days.
"Hillbilly!!!" He shouted, and stood up. The bar had gone suddenly silent. Maude's eyes went fiery, and he pointed to the door.
"Get out." He said in a low warning tone.
"OUT!!!" he shouted, and he grabbed both by their collar, dragged them across the floor, and tossed them out the door. He went back behind the bar to Hermione. "The nerve…" he spat in a dirty glass he had been beginning to wipe down. "No wonder you don't like 'em…"
Well? Did you love it? Hate it? Let me know!
Cellie