A Chance Blamed Fate
Disclaimer: You know the drill. Harry Potter and all canon characters/situations/places copyright J.K. Rowling, not me. I make no profit from this, it's just for fun. All original characters/situations/places copyright me, Nicole, so hands off. Thank you. Consider this applicible to all sobsequent chapters of the fic.
Author's Note:This fic is an experiment of sorts in several parts. The first part is an examination of several canon characters through the insertion of an original character. The second part is a general questioning of some of what I find to be questionable moral habits in the wizarding world, also accomplished by the thoughts and experiences of this OC. The third part is more personal - writing practice. In order to accomplish the first two parts, some peices of canon will be discarded, and some characters will be bent slightly to the way I see them, rather than sticking only to what we know about them in canon. As a result, you might find spoilers in thsi fic from all six books to date (that's up to and including Half-Blood Prince), but at the same time, some information gleamed in OotP and HBP may be ignored, either intentionally or by mistake, as I am not as well read on those two volumes as I am the first four. If the writing of this fics overlaps the eventual publication of the seventh book, I will most likely continue in ths fashion, picking and choosing which bits of new canon to acknowledge in order to acheive my perviously stated goals.
Oh, on a lighter note, in case anyone was curious, the title of the fic is taken from the Pearl Jam song "Tremor Christ," from "Vitalogy."
Rating: R for language at this point, possibly for violence/sex and "adult themes" later on.
Chapter One: Father of Mine
He was tall. Excessively so, Fallon thought, this man who was her father by birth. Devon, his name was, Devon Kent. He was a wizard - which explained Fallon's magical abilities - from London and he was standing not five feet away from her in the Boston Wizards Municipal building looking just as uncertain and awkward as she felt. Devon had the same light blonde hair and hazel eyes as Fallon, the only physical traits she had inherited from him. He looked fit, strong, and there was a sharp intelligence to his eyes despite the apprehension that clouded them at that moment.
Fallon laughed nervously.
"Hi," she said in a small, uncertain voice.
"You inherited your mother's freckles," Devon replied.
Fallon nodded. "And your hair, I see."
Devon smiled. "It runs in the family. Can I help you with your bags?"
Fallon nodded and handed him the heavier of her two bags, then lifted the second one onto her shoulder.
"The rest of my stuff was sent ahead, did it arrive okay?" she asked.
Devon nodded as they began walking to the Portkey terminal. "The boxes are in your new room waiting to be unpacked. The house elves wanted to do it for you, but I thought you might want to arrange things to your liking."
"Yes, I would, thank you." She paused. "You have house elves?"
"Two. They've been with the family for years."
"You know that's been outlawed in the States..." she said slowly.
"They're treated kindly," Devon assured her.
Fallon nodded, but was not convinced. The idea of having house elves had bothered her since she found out about her magical blood and entered the wizarding world. It was just recently that House Elf enslavement had been outlawed in the U.S. and Fallon had thought it a great victory. At the same time, she did understand that the Elves seemed to enjoy their work, and was torn on the whole issue.
"They were thrilled to find out you were coming," Devon added.
Fallon looked up at him quizzically.
"It's just been myself and the Elves for some time and they don't have much work to do with just me around. When I told them about you they were overjoyed to have someone new in the house to cook for and whatnot."
"Oh."
The pair reached the international Portkey terminal and Devon gave their destination. It was only a moment until the portkey was ready and they entered their transport area.
"You've traveled by portkey before, I trust?"
"Yes, once. It wasn't pleasant..."
"You get used to it," Devon said, then reached out to touch the old glass bottle that would serve as their passage to London. Fallon followed suit and was soon greeted by the unwelcome tug around her navel. Before she knew it, they had landed in the London terminal and Devon was holding out his hand to help Fallon to her feet, as she had landed on her rear at the end of the trip. She took his hand hesitantly and allowed him to help her up. They made their way to his modest flat in silence save for the occasional comment with regards to their surroundings from Devon.
"That there is an entrance to the muggle underground - I'm sure you know all about that, your mother being one..."
"Underground?" Fallon asked at one point, confused.
"That train they use that goes under the ground? That is what it's called, right?"
"Oh. They call it a subway in America," Fallon said. Not only was she having to get used to living with a wizard - her father - but she was also going to have to adjust to being in England, Fallon finally realized and was seized with a terrible homesickness. She had only been out of America for a few minutes and already she was hungry to return.
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When they reached Devon's home he paused on the front steps to mutter a spell to unlock the door, then pushed it open and stepped aside to let Fallon enter in front of him. She stepped through the threshold and was immediately struck by how magical the building felt. It wasn't even the moving paintings or magical objects she saw scattered about, Fallon could literally feel the magic in the air.
"This home has been in my - our - family for two hundred years. It's adapted itself to the changing times, of course, but the core of the place has stayed the same," Devon said as he shut the door behind them and dropped Fallon's bag on the floor in the hallway. She put the one she carried down beside it and let her gaze wander around the narrow entryway.
"Are you hungry?" Devon asked. "The kitchen's just through there," he pointed straight in front of them and Fallon headed in with Devon following close behind.
The kitchen was a large, brightly lit, friendly room, with a few small paintings on the walls and other decor suitable for such a setting. It gave off an air of wealth, but at the same time it was played down and humble. Down to earth, was probably the right term for. It was obvious Devon's family - her family - had money, but the house said they didn't flaunt it.
"Do-" Devon began, but was interrupted as two house elves scurried into view in front of Fallon and bowed deeply.
"Miss Fallon?" One of them asked. Fallon nodded. "Welcome's home. I's is being Toby and this is Lolly. Cans we be getting you anything?"
Fallon was staring at the elves, shocked. She had never actually conversed with one before, nor had she ever been addressed by someone as if she were a superior. And they both seemed so happy, it threw her.
"Why don't you take the bags in the hall up to Fallon's room?" Devon said to the elves. They nodded and disappeared with a pop.
"That was weird..." Fallon murmured, more to herself than Devon.
"You looked like you'd never seen one before."
"I hadn't," Fallon said. "They outlawed them in the States last year and most places in my State didn't have them anyway. They surprised me."
"They can do that, I'll ask them to be a bit less forward with you."
"Thanks."
Devon pulled an assortment of snacks out of the fridge and put them on the table then sat in the chair across from Fallon. She picked at them a bit as an uncomfortable silence stretched between the pair.
"This is awkward," Devon said after several minutes.
"Where have you been for the last fifteen years?" Fallon blurted out. The question had been itching at the back of her mind ever since she found his name and the break in the silence was just what she needed to spit it out.
"Right here," Devon replied. He averted his eyes. "Your mother and I only knew each other for a short time while I was visiting Boston. I left without knowing she was pregnant and she being a muggle had no way to contact me."
"That's convenient," Fallon said.
"I know. I don't expect you to trust me immediately. Or ever, without reason. But I stepped up as soon as I knew about you, that has to count for something. Half-blood or not, you're still my daughter, and nothing anyone says can change that."
Fallon narrowed her eyes at his comment about her blood and said nothing.
"My family's been pure-blooded for generations. Finding out about you... well... they're not pleased with me, to say the least."
"Goody."
"Hogwarts might be difficult. I don't think they've ever had transfer students. Not recently, anyway. Dumbledore says he's got it all worked out, though. They're not going to sort you with the first years, that would be awkward, so they're going to sort you separately, in private, after the feast and then introduce you to your house mates. He figures the rest of the school will catch on to you being there soon enough."
"I still don't understand why I can't continue school in Salem."
"Because they don't have an on-campus housing system and it would be ridiculous to go to the Ministry and portkey there every day. Besides, Hogwarts is one of the best school's in the world, Salem-"
"Is also an excellent school. And Voldemort isn't in America yet. It's safer there."
"For now," Devon said darkly. "It's only a matter of time before he spreads out of Britain and you're safer living with pure-blood's than muggles."
"You keep pressing your blood status. You're not one of his, are you?" Fallon snipped.
Devon looked taken aback by her question, but he answered "no" immediately.
Fallon nibbled a cookie and brushed a stray hair back from her face.
"I had to ask," she said. "By bringing me here, you've brought me into a war zone, you know that, right?"
"I'm fully aware of what's going on here, Fallon. You needn't worry about it just yet, in a few weeks you'll be at Hogwarts, it's the safest place in Britain."
"That doesn't mean I don't have to worry."
"I'm not going to fight with you about this. Why don't you head upstairs and start unpacking, ask Toby or Lolly if you need help."
Fallon got up from her seat without a word and headed for the door. Then she paused and turned. "Where's the room?"
"Up the stairs by the front door, it's the last room on the left."
She nodded and headed upstairs. The room was easy enough to locate, and she got to work unpacking immediately and did not go to sleep until the job was done and Led - her owl - was safely in his cage for the night.
When she did finally lie down in what was now her bed, Fallon cried herself to sleep.
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Authors Note Redux: I am fully aware of how American transfer students tend to conjur images of mary-sues and self-insertion on the authors part in the world of Harry Potter fanfiction. Very aware, I might add, to the point where I have considered just keeping the fic to myself to avoid undeserved criticism. However, please understand my reasoning. I decided to use an American transfer as the main character here because I needed a total outsider's view in order to be properly critical of the elements of the wizarding world I wish to examine. She is a sixth-year transfer so that she will be old enough to be considering such topics as I plan on addressing, and an American so that I could fashion a radically different wizarding culture for her to be coming in from based on the principles that the US's founding was based on - the lack of House Elf slavery in my American wizarding culture being just one example of that gap.