What He Found
Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from True Blood or Harry Potter.
Summary: He'd given a lot of thought to what he might find after death; somehow, he hadn't been expecting to find her.
Author's Notes: I really did mean for this to be a one-shot. I have failed. (I am already working on Chapter Three, where we get to see more interaction with Godric and Holly, as well as Eric.)
Literally the day I posted chapter one, I started having issues with my internet and was unable to keep a connection for very long. On top of that, years and years of typing and PC gaming caught up to me; if I typed for longer than ten minutes, the carpal tunnel in my right wrist would act up. Thankfully, both issues are fixed, or as fixed as they're going to get.
Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited, followed, reviewed, and just enjoyed 'What He Found.'
Death had a sense of humor.
And if you asked Holly, there were few things worse than an all-powerful being with a sense of humor.
When she woke to her new life with the image of Godric – eyes quietly frantic and pleading as his hand lifted to meet her own but not fast enough – seared so deeply into her mind that she could still see it with every blink, she did so with the impression that she had woken up in, or at least very close to, the year that Godric had died.
So, ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind insisting that something was off, Holly rose from where she lay in the middle of a field, feeling a vague hint of familiarity for her location, brushed off her clothes, and apparated to the town she could just see in the distance.
After all, she had a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.
.
Clutching at the newspaper with enough force that her knuckles went white, Holly could only stare at the printed date and struggle to decide whether she should start laughing hysterically or swearing violently.
She really should have known better.
She was a Potter after all.
.
She'd expected she would be in for a bit of a wait before Godric returned; after all, time moved differently in the real world than it did in King's Cross, and Godric had to decide if he wanted to return or not (and she was rather sure he would).
She just hadn't expected it to be a minimum of eleven years.
She clenched her eyes shut until the black behind her lids spiraled into color and the colors moved like they were being twisted in a kaleidoscope; only then did she open her eyes to once more frantically examine the newspaper, as if expecting the characters to have rearranged themselves into something new.
But they still read the same thing.
Friday, March 27, 1998.
Death had dropped her in the past.
No, in a way, Death had brought her back to the beginning: to the day she had disarmed Draco Malfoy and gained the loyalty of the Elder Wand, completing the set of Hallows.
Death had brought her back to the very day she had become Its Master.
… That bloody bastard.
.
Death had been thorough when He'd made a place for her in this world, even going so far as to give her a second set of memories to call upon, as if she really had lived in this world for the past seventeen-almost-eighteen years.
Her life in this world was like looking in the funhouse mirrors at a carnival: the image wasn't changed so much as it was warped and distorted, all while keeping the major details the same.
She was still Holly Potter, daughter of Lily and James Potter, with her father's messy black hair and her mother's emerald eyes.
Her birthday was still the 31st of July, 1980.
She still bore the same lightning bolt scar on her forehead, though in this world, it was said to be the result of a rather nasty tumble from a tree when she was four years old, rather than a mark of her having survived the killing curse.
And she had still been placed in the care of her Aunt Petunia after the death of her parents. It was –rather ironically – a car crash that had taken them from her in this world, rather than a murderous Dark Lord.
.
Holly returned to the Dursley home with no small sense of reluctance; a prison is still a prison, after all, no matter how well the inmates were treated or how pretty the facility.
And she was treated well.
Though there was no love lost between them, Holly's life in the Dursley household had certainly been better in this world compared to her original world. Here, without the fear of magic, only jealousy fueled her Aunt's dislike and, rather than see Holly as a burden and neglect her, Petunia had seen raising Holly as a way to finally one-up her perfect sister for good.
Instead of life-threatening adventures and magic, Holly's upbringing had been strict and filled with lessons. Petunia expected high achievements and demanded perfection in all things, determined that she would raise her sister's daughter to be the Perfect Lady.
Perhaps, most surprisingly, – excluding the fact that she was back in 1998 – was the easy friendship that had developed between her and Dudley.
The amount of attention Petunia had dedicated to her quest to turn Holly into the Perfect Lady had caused quite a bit of tension for Holly and Dudley in the early years; all a five year old Dudley saw was that his mother was paying more attention to his cousin rather than to him and it had led to several years of insults that had ended in physical fights on more than one occasion.
However, Dudley's hatred and jealousy of his cousin mellowed once he'd found his own niche until he could truly see just how much his mother's demands took out of Holly. By the time the cousins were thirteen, Dudley had started running interference with his mother to give Holly a break once in a while, and the pair settled into a close and easy friendship that they maintained even now.
So, as Holly eased into her chair at the dinner table and prepared for what was going to be one of her top ten strangest dinners ever, she couldn't quite stop the amusement she felt that THIS was what really drove home the fact that she was in an entirely new world.
.
If there was ever a characteristic that Holly possessed that was a double-edged sword, it was her capacity to love.
Perhaps it was something she had inherited from her parents, or perhaps it was a result of her childhood in her original world where things such as love and affection were kept from her, but when Holly loved someone, she loved deeply.
When she loved, she held nothing back and gave everything she was. When she loved, she did it with her whole heart, her whole soul, with her entire being.
Dumbledore had called it her greatest strength, and it certainly was a strength, one that had helped her defeat Voldemort.
But, it was also her greatest weakness.
Holly knew she was weak when it came to those she loved.
Because there was nothing she wouldn't do for those she'd claimed as her own.
She would kill for them, and had.
She would die for them, and had.
And Godric had become one of those people during their time in King's Cross, had found his way into what her husband had once laughingly called her 'Inner Circle.'
The people she would burn the world for, and regret nothing.
.
Two years.
Two long years of losing herself in the bustle of life at University, burying herself in assignments, tutoring other students, and letting the voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's browbeat her into submission about how she couldn't look for Godric because 'what if she messed up the timeline' and 'awful things happen to those who meddle with time'.
She lasted two years before she gave into temptation and booked a flight for Dallas for the first few days of winter holidays, telling herself that she just needed to check up on him. She wouldn't befriend him, or even speak to him. She would just look in on how he was doing, and then return to England.
A girl could hope, right?
.
Finding Godric was easier than she'd thought it would be, especially considering the time restraints she was under.
She'd landed in Dallas early in the evening of the 20th, made her way to her hotel – sadly, not the Hotel Carmilla, which didn't even exist yet, much to her dismay; she'd hoped to stay there before it became a well-known hub of vampire activity – and had barely managed to finish her dinner before she fell into bed to sleep until nearly four in the morning.
Godric had mentioned that he'd grown fond of wandering the city in the years before his death, so rather than try to find him as he moved around, Holly had used the hours until sunrise doing her holiday assignments, lingering over her cup of tea, and browsing the pamphlets left in the room that advertised nearby attractions.
Once the sun was high enough in the sky that no vampire would be awake, no matter their age, Holly left her room, got a map from the front desk, and proceeded onto the busy streets of Dallas. She'd ducked into a nearby alley, cast a Notice-Me-Not charm and, through liberal use of various tracking and detection spells geared for the undead, tracked down Godric to his current nest on the outskirts of the city.
She'd marked the location on her map and had wandered back into the city proper to find a late lunch, browse the shops, and otherwise kill time before she could follow Godric on one of his walks and put her worries to rest.
.
Her resolve to not interact with Godric was far weaker than the resolve that had kept her away for two years once actually faced with the vampire she'd befriended in death.
For two nights – the 21st and the 22nd – she followed him from the moment he entered the city until he returned to his nest and what she saw only made her worries grow.
Godric looked miserable.
There was a sense of fragility to him and the way he moved that shouted at her until she could barely understand how no one else could notice it.
The slouch of his shoulders wasn't from laziness, but dejection; the hands he kept tucked in the pockets of the jeans he wore to blend in as he wandered didn't come across as casual, but defensive; he moved slowly, as if exhausted and weighed down.
And his eyes…
Godric looked at the world around him with a numb apathy that reminded her of what she had felt before she had walked to her death; he watched the world around him as if he were surrounded by thick glass, able to see the world passing him by, but unable to connect.
.
The next night, as the clock ticked over to one in the morning, Holly cursed her Gryffindor nature, even as she did the glamour charms that made her look as average as average could be. There weren't a ton of people out this late at night, but there were still enough out doing late night Christmas shopping that she could easily blend in and get lost in a crowd when she had to make her escape.
Dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin – what could be seen, at any rate – with dark jeans, a gray hoodie, and a pair of worn trainers.
It'd do its job well enough, she nodded in approval.
Then she took a deep breath, removed her notice-me-not, and stepped from the store she'd taken refuge in as she waited – running directly into Godric.
.
"I am so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going; I was so distracted. Are you alright?" Holly babbled, expression twisting into blushing mortification, her voice was higher pitched than usual from tension. She hoped he only took it as another sign of her embarrassment.
The distracted frown of confusion he gave her as her hands fluttered uncertainly near him, as if she wanted to check him for injury but didn't want to invade his space, had her mentally holding her breath.
Honestly, it was like he had forgotten how to interact with people on a regular basis!
"Are you alright?" she repeated when he remained silent, only staring at her with that same puzzled look in his eye.
Just as she began to worry that he saw her actions for the suspicious ones they rightly where, a slight smile slid into place on his face, like he'd just donned a mask.
"No harm done; I am much stronger than I look," he assured her, already starting to move around her to continue on his walk.
She panicked in her mind and blurted out: "No, not that, I mean, um… You just… Well, you look sad. I'm sorry, that was silly and invasive – "
Godric aborted his action, seeming to freeze in place at her side, looking taken aback by her words as she rambled and gestured, trying to salvage the mess she was sure she'd just made.
He was staring at her.
She cut herself off abruptly and shifted her weight from one foot the other, the weight of his amused gaze and genuinely fond smile rendering her hesitant. After a second, she brightened and turned her attention to one of the bags on her arm – she really had bought several things; this had to be believable! – and dug through it until she pulled out a small black box tied with a green ribbon.
She flushed shyly and averted her eyes before she pressed the box into his hands.
"Happy Christmas!" she exclaimed in a rush, almost stumbling over the words in her hurry to get them out; she smiled brightly at his baffled look and took off down the street before he could think to stop her.
.
The tension in Holly's shoulders didn't ease until she was in the air above the Atlantic; then, she let out a gusty sigh of relief and slumped in her seat.
She would check on him again next year.
.
He had considered opening the small box the moment he returned to his nest, but something had made him wait until it was Christmas day before he loosened the emerald ribbon.
Perhaps it was the sincere wish of "Happy Christmas!" or just that it was a gift given to him without any ulterior motives attached like many he had received during his tenure as Sheriff of Area 9.
Whatever the reason, he had left the small black box sitting at the edge of his desk, tempting him and drawing his eye throughout his meetings and the various papers he had to sign and sort until he finally deemed it time to open it.
He upended the box and a small stone, no bigger than a fifty-cent piece, dropped into his hand. It was a bright, sea-blue with black words etched into the glass and would fit rather well with the collection of sea-glass he had.
To get through the hardest journey and continue living, we need to take only one step at a time; but we must keep stepping. – Chinese Proverb
He kept the stone at his desk for months, pulling it out and idly rubbing his thumb over the words, wondering at how it had found its way to him just when he needed those words the most.
.
In 2001, Holly once more returned to Dallas for the first few days of winter break.
When she tracked down Godric, she was pleased to see that he looked a bit better than he had last year; at the very least, he seemed less numb and more involved in watching the world around him.
Unfortunately, this made it more difficult for her to give him his gift; he would get suspicious if another girl ran into him and gave him another stone, so she had to find another way.
As Godric strolled past where she sat at a small café, she let the stone drop before a seven-year old boy who'd been playing nearby her table; when the child picked it up, wondering where it had come from, Holly had pointed to Godric and said that it "must've fallen from his pocket; you should return it!"
She'd watched from behind her book as the little boy had chased Godric down and given the stone to him; she couldn't quite stop the smirk when the vampire, upon seeing the stone the boy held, accepted it despite the confusion of where it came from.
.
The life you live is the lesson you teach. Live well.
.
Before their deaths in this world, James had been a professional football player, and Lily, despite her young age, had been a chemist with a lucrative, if secretive, job. Between their paychecks, their life-insurance policies, the restitution from the lawsuit over the crash that killed them, and the already sizeable Potter family fortune, Holly's inheritance was nothing to scoff at.
Indeed, a week after turning eighteen, when the entirety of her inheritance was released to her, Holly was left reeling over the fact that she didn't have to work a single day in her life if she didn't want to.
Death had been very thorough in ensuring His Master's place in the world.
Despite that she didn't have to work, Holly had gone to University to get degrees in both Business and Design. During that time, she'd also decided to invest in several things, most of which had ended up paying out quite well so far, so her already substantial fortune only grew during her time in University.
So, when in the midst of end-of-term exam frenzy, she had an idea – though she was unsure if it were crazy and a result of sleep deprivation or a stroke of sheer genius – she checked her accounts and started haggling.
.
In July of 2002, Holly finished University in the top fifteen of her class. With degrees in hand, she packed her essentials and moved to Dallas on a semi-permanent basis.
By November, she closed the deal for a building in downtown Dallas, once filled with offices.
Renovations for the soon-to-be Hotel Carmilla were due to begin in January of next year.
If she laughed herself silly as she filled out and signed the papers to make the building hers, no one had to know.
.
Christmas, 2002.
You have all the tools you need to do the things that must be done.
.
Christmas, 2003.
The longer we dwell on our misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us. – Voltaire
.
Apparently, the fact that she named her hotel after a book about a vampire did more than just amuse her: it caught someone's attention.
The letter arrived on a Monday, with her name and address written in beautiful calligraphy; the kind one usually only found on wedding invitations, or in Holly's own hand.
The envelope was sealed with red wax that glinted like freshly spilt blood in the light of her apartment with an elaborate V pressed into it; the letter itself was written on heavy parchment.
Miss Holly Potter,
You are invited to attend…
.
She had been hesitant to attend, that conditioned paranoia of one who had seen and lived through war that never quite faded rearing its head and whispering that this could be a trap.
So, she took precautions, even going so far as to visit the location where the meeting was to be held beforehand and making note of escape routes.
When the day came, she donned her chosen armor – a charcoal pantsuit with an emerald blouse, heeled boots, and minimal jewelry – and set out for the meeting that would either end her life or change it.
Perhaps it was callous of her, but when she saw the thirty-some other people that were attending, a part of her was grateful; if this were to go bad, that was thirty other people with the chance of being attacked before her, giving her a better chance at escaping.
She entered the large room and mingled, making friends and connections, handing out and receiving business cards in turn, until it was time for the real meeting to begin, at which point, she took her seat in the middle of the crowd.
Within the next hour, she was officially let in on the secret that vampires were real, and that they were planning to fully reveal themselves within the next few years.
She was among those chosen to be let in on the secret early in order to help with the vampires' integration into society.
And then she learned why she'd been chosen.
.
"Your mother worked on the TruBlood project for a time," Roman Zimojic confided. "She truly had a talent for it, as well; there were more breakthroughs in the two years she worked for us than there were in the decade before. I was disappointed when she died; if she had lived, perhaps we would have been able to reveal ourselves earlier."
"My mother was a brilliant woman," Holly agreed easily. "If I am honest, I thought it was what I chose to name my hotel that earned me the invitation, but I am glad that there was more behind it than just my being cheeky."
"Well, it certainly drew my attention. Why did you choose to name it Carmilla?"
"Hotel Dracula didn't have the same ring to it."
.
Upon leaving the meeting with the Vampire Authority, Holly had agreed that when the vampires revealed themselves, Hotel Carmilla would be the first ever vampire-friendly hotel in the world, one designed specifically with its undead guests in mind.
As she left, Roman handed her a slip of paper and informed her that she should consider contacting the sheriff of Area 9.
Godric, he said, would be happy to answer any questions she might have about making a building safe for a vampire to rest in.
.
To: Godric, Sheriff of Area Nine,
Guardian Roman Zimojic has referred me to you for any and all questions I might have in regards to making the Hotel Carmilla safe and welcoming to vampire guests…
.
To: General Manager Potter,
Your initiative in ensuring the safety of your future guests is as impressive as the sheer amount of questions you have regarding it. It is my pleasure to work with you on this task…
.
Christmas, 2004.
Do what you can, with what you have, with where you are. – Theodore Roosevelt.
.
Though the correspondence with Godric became less and less about the precautions she should take and the amenities she should provide and more about philosophical debates, the letters were kept to a minimum and Holly never let on that 'General Manager Potter' was actually a woman.
She relished in the ability to contact him almost without restriction, and often found herself having to double check any and all messages she sent in order to make sure she wasn't bringing up anything that she wasn't supposed to know.
Though the restriction grated on her, Holly only had to remind herself of the times that Godric had looked at her without knowing her to strengthen her resolve to not interfere with his life beyond these small liberties.
If she wanted her Godric back, then this one had to die.
.
The years marched on.
.
Christmas, 2005.
To: Godric, Sheriff of Area Nine,
I found this stone and was reminded of one our previous discussions on the nature of happiness. Merry Christmas, Sheriff.
H. Potter.
.
Happiness is someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for. – Chinese Proverb.
.
RING IN THE NEW YEAR
AT THE HOTEL CARMILLA
GRAND OPENING!
.
The grand opening of her hotel had two hundred and fifty attending, with at least fifty of said attendees being vampires.
Including Godric and several members of his nest.
Holly skipped out on attending it and claimed that she was needed back in England.
It wasn't time for her to meet Godric yet.
.
June 1st, 2006.
The Great Revelation had happened the day before.
Curled up in her favorite chair, Holly clutched at her mug of tea and watched the various news programs.
The Marauder in her reveled in the chaos of the vampires revealing themselves; the rest of her only cared that she was that much closer to finally seeing Godric in person once more.
.
Within a month of the Great Revelation, anti-vampire groups numbered near a hundred in America alone.
The most vocal of these was The Fellowship of the Sun.
Holly had a special kind of hatred for that church; but then she'd never been fond of anyone who persecuted others for something that couldn't be helped.
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Christmas, 2006.
Pick battles big enough to matter, small enough to win. – Jonathon Kozol.
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Christmas, 2007.
You cannot change anyone else, you can only change yourself.
.
Christmas, 2008.
Everything is okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end. – Unknown.
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29 July, 2009
To: Godric
I am to head home to England for a short vacation in celebration of my birthday, but I would be glad to meet with you upon my return to discuss this topic further.
I look forward to meeting you in person.
See you soon.
H. Potter.
.
Holly spent her twenty-ninth birthday in a small house on the Isle of Skye in Scotland, not that anyone would believe her age by looking at her.
When she met Death after passing in her original world, she had not appeared in King's Cross as her 173-year-old self; instead, she'd woken up, back in her teenage body with all the scars she'd gathered up until then.
A witch's connection to her power grew stronger as she aged until, upon hitting majority, it stabilized and the witch essentially came into her own magic. Thus it should be no real surprise that witches (and wizards) aged slower than non-magicals; their power was constantly moving with them, boosting their immune system, slowing their aging, repairing the damage the everyday damage that would add up over time.
And the more magical power one had, the stronger a connection, the longer-lived one would be.
Holly had already been considered powerful for her age, if not the most powerful of her age group, and that power had not faded, not even in death.
When that already potent power combined with the Deathly Hallows, Holly's aging was slowed to a crawl.
In the eleven years she had been in this world, she had aged mere months.
Before the Great Revelation, Holly had been forced to do her hair and dress in a manner that would age her; even then, she employed light glamor charms to help make her look older than barely eighteen. Despite that, she still had issues being taken seriously; now, with the vampires out of the coffin, Holly had been slowly easing up on the glamour charms, had started dressing the way she preferred, and, within hours of setting foot in the United Kingdom, Holly had shorn her hair until it was back to the pixie length she preferred.
.
When she heard the report of the bombing of a vampire nest in Dallas, Holly packed her things and headed back to the States.
.
August ended before Holly started her search in earnest. She knew neither where nor when Godric would return to life, so she started her search in Dallas, radiating outwards from the hotel.
Unable to use tracking or detection spells simply because she had nothing to use to have the spells focus only on him, Holly searched the city by hand. It took her a month before she finally concluded that he simply wasn't there.
Oh, he was definitely alive again, but he just hadn't returned to where he had died.
With a weary sigh, Holly dropped into her favorite chair and stared out at the Dallas skyline.
If Godric wasn't in Dallas, then where was he and why hadn't he returned where he had died?
Death had returned her to life on the same day and in the same location as she had been when she became His Master, but then, she'd had no real ties to this world.
Was it possible that because Godric had a childe, still had a tie to this world, that he had been resurrected near that tie?
But where was his childe?
"My childe, Eric, owns a vampire bar in Shreveport. He uses it as his seat of power and rules his area from there; but, I have always preferred a house."
Brightening with realization, Holly grabbed her laptop from the side table and opened a web browser as she settled deeper in her chair.
Godric would likely wish to stay near his childe, especially after the pair of them had been parted by something as permanent as the True Death was supposed to be.
Her apartment in Dallas simply wouldn't do anymore.
.
The farmhouse she purchased that was an hour's drive from Shreveport required some repairs on top of the usual upgrades that she would need to make the house safe for a vampire.
She had workmen come in to repair the actual house during the day while, at night, she turned what had been just a crawlspace beneath it into a whole new level of underground rooms and, with no small sense of wry amusement, put the entrance to the underground level in the storage cupboard beneath her stairs.
Three weeks later, with the majority of the work finally complete, Holly grabbed her denim jacket and made the drive to Fangtasia.
She took one look at him on the throne and felt the tension leave her body, felt relief and affection flood her at the sight.
She had finally found him.
So, there's chapter two of What He Found. I hope you enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed the first one!
I can predict that there will be at least one more chapter, likely two or even three.
I really didn't mean for this one to go the way it did, but there it is.
-D.
