Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, own the intellectual property of Harry Potter, or any related properties. This work is not intended to produce a profit of any sort.


Chapter One - Welcome Home

April 29th, 2007 - 23:14 | Great Britain - Ministry of Magic | Present Day

"I need to go away for a while..."

That's how Jacqueline had started the last face-to-face conversation she'd had with all of her friends and adopted family in one place. Well, everybody except Ginny and Luna, of course.

The memory of the collective shout of alarm that rang around the Burrow's dining room table at her announcement still made her ears ring a little bit. She had known the news would come as an unwelcome surprise for most of them but had still been taken aback by the force of their reaction.

With everybody clamoring to talk over each other, Jacque remembered being at a loss for words. Unable to process the myriads of questions being thrown at her, her mouth had drawn into a thin line, and she held up a frustrated hand, "Enough! I promise I'll answer your questions, but only if you all calm down!"

It had taken another minute, and a shrill whistle from Mrs. Weasley, for the table to calm enough for her to continue. Looking around at all of her friends' concerned faces she let out a soft sigh, before nodding to the youngest of the Weasley boys, who looked like he might just explode if she didn't answer his questions immediately, "Alright, Ron, you first."

"This isn't about Ginny is it, Harry?" Ron blurted out tactlessly, drawing a collection of groans and sighs from around the table, but he bulldozed ahead as usual, "Look mate, we're all furious at her for how she treated you, but-"

"That's not what this is about, Ron," Jacqueline interrupted tiredly, only to pause for a moment before shrugging and shaking her head, "I mean, I'll be honest, maybe it's a little bit about her too, but this has been a long time coming. This whole debacle is just pushing me out the door a little earlier than I'd planned. Ask Fleur, if you want, I've been asking Bill to help me take care of some business in South America for months now."

"But what about the auror academy, Harry?! We're two months from graduation, you can't quit now!" The plaintiff tone in her first friend's plea brought a lump to her throat, even all these years later. If only things had been so easy as finishing out the last few weeks of her training and going on to carry out her duties in the newly reformed Auror Corps.

"Ron, it's done. My termination paperwork is already on Shacklebolt's desk." She remembered the way her hands had shaken under the table, even after Hermione reached over to silently take hold of the one closest to her and gave a gentle squeeze.

The look of despair on her friend's face was heartbreaking, "But...why?! You've always wanted to be an auror, Harry!"

"I do...or, I used to, I guess. But the Auror Corps doesn't really want me, they want Harry Potter." Jacque shook her head, "They'll never let me be anybody else, and that just isn't who I want to be anymore."

Which, while true, wasn't the only reason that she had for wanting to leave the Auror Corps behind her. Not that she had been ready for anybody but Hermione to know the full extent of her plans at that time and could only hope that Ginny had kept her word. At the very least, she'd never heard about anything from that awful night coming out in the press.

Of course, seven years was a long time for rumors to spread. But while she had heard and read a number of wild theories as to where Harry Potter disappeared to on her few short trips back to Britain, never once had she heard someone come even remotely close to the truth of the matter. Most, in fact, had been patently ridiculous including her favorite - that she'd gone barmy after getting hit by a second killing curse and turned herself into a lion before running off into Hogwarts' forbidden forest.

'I reckon there's a tiny kernel of truth to that one, if you squint and turn your head a little.' She couldn't help but snort at the ridiculous notion that she could have pulled something like that off in the state she'd been in when she first left for Brazil.

The obnoxiously loud ringing of a bell to signal an incoming portkey snapped Jacqueline from her thoughts and into full alertness with a startled jerk. The Curse-Breaker cast a wary gaze at the sparse crowd in the Ministry of Magic's international portkey arrivals lounge. Intellectually she knew the chances of any real danger this deep within the ministry was unlikely, but she still found herself reevaluating the strangers around her as potential threats and searching out the nearest exit.

The sweep of Jacqueline's gaze faltered as emerald eyes fell on a stunningly attractive witch sitting across from her in the small lounge. The woman was well-dressed in a tightly fitting navy turtleneck that accentuated her graceful figure while a pair of dark jeans clung tightly to her long legs. When her gaze reached an angular face framed by a silky black bob cut, she froze - caught like a deer in the headlights as the dark-haired witch stared intently back at her.

A soft flush crept up her neck and warmed the redhead's cheeks. She couldn't help but feel that there was something oddly familiar in the way the other witch quirked an elegantly shaped eyebrow while she watched Jacque, amusement sparkling in her stormy blue eyes. When it suddenly hit her where she recognized the olive-skinned witch from her blush only intensified, and a smug grin spread across Daphne Greengrass' face.

Jacque hadn't seen the other woman outside of the tournament sphere since well before her breakup with Hermione. In fact, she didn't think that Jacqueline Evans had ever formally met the internationally famous duelist and broom racer, outside of the single duel they had gone up against each other in. Laughably enough, the fight had been called as a draw after they each managed to land simultaneous knockout blows, and by the time Jacqueline had come to the other witch had already furiously stormed off.

While they had both been advanced in the tournament bracket, the officials had also recorded the K.O.s as the first on each of their records. Considering that the Greengrass heir's penchant for perfectionism exceeded even Hermione's own somewhat frightening fervor, Jacqueline expected that the mark on her otherwise flawless dueling career still irked the other witch, at least a little bit.

'Be honest with yourself, Jacqueline, deep down you know you love that you got to be the one to knock her from that damned pedestal...'

The redheaded witch blinked in surprise at the unbidden thought, before averting her gaze as she reached up to gently squeeze the replica sabretooth resting against her chest, hoping to calm the restlessness that had welled up along with an alarming and entirely unwelcome hunger. It was as though the smug smirk on her lips was challenging her to cross the room and -

'That's about enough of that, thanks very much.' Jacqueline chided herself silently as she absently ran a thumb down the length of her totem. 'She's your best friend's ex-girlfriend, and probably hates your guts for scuffing up her record. Besides, that's not what you're here for, and you know it.'

Maybe she should go on a run once she reached the cottage; it was late on her home island, and she doubted she'd be able to sleep with her pent-up energy alongside a jump-lag addled circadian rhythm.

Once the Curse-Breaker's cheeks cooled, she glanced back up and was relieved to see the other witch's seat abandoned. The last thing Jacque needed was to have to sort out her complicated feelings toward Hermione's ex on top of all the typical regretful longings she had this time every year. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't torture herself again this year - and she wouldn't; that didn't mean she could simply disregard her morbid pilgrimage, however.

The dead were owed their due, after all.

Jacqueline was pulled from her internal tailspin when a tall middle-aged wizard with a bushy salt and pepper moustache and thick-rimmed glasses stepped up to her while his gangly brunette assistant trailed behind him eagerly. She couldn't help but compare the brown-eyed boy to her memories of Percy bustling around as Crouch Sr.'s assistant in her fourth year at Hogwarts.

'He doesn't look as self-important as Percy always does, at least.'

She grinned, both at the thought and the way the older wizard's brow furrowed when he caught sight of the S.P.E.W. pin on the collar of her leather motorcycle jacket. If Jacque had read his expression properly then she already knew his type and was more than happy to see him fume over the Wizengamot's recent ruling on elven rights.

"Can I help you, Officer..." Jacqueline's emerald eyes flicked down to the customs officer's badge, pinned to a mustard yellow cloak, before snapping back up to meet a stormy grey stare, "Fletcher?"

The older wizard bristled at the dismissive tone in her whiskey-soaked voice, while his assistant finally managed to tear his wide gaze from her cleavage only to wilt as he saw the look on his boss' face.

Ignoring her question, Officer Fletcher held out a demanding hand to her, "State your name, occupation, and the nature of your business in the United Kingdom."

The redhead resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she slowly reached into the left side of her jacket and plucked her passport from one of plethora of magical pockets sewn into the crimson lining. "Jacqueline Rose Evans, I'm a professional duelist and a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts." She answered, echoing his clipped tone.

The salt and pepper haired wizard snorted before snatching the blue leatherbound booklet from Jacque's manicured grip, while his brown eyed assistant - Williams according to his badge - suddenly looked as though he might wet himself in his excitement. "And your business here, Curse-Breaker Evans?"

"A birth in the family, paying respects to friends and family lost in the war, or putting my affairs in order so that I can take care of some personal business. Take your pick, Officer Fletcher."

"I'm sorry for your losses..." Fletcher's assistant replied hesitantly, while his boss flipped opened her passport, "And for the redundant searches, I know it must be getting tired by now, but you can never be too careful. There was an attack right here four years ago on Remembrance Day, you know - some bloke claiming to be You-Know-Who's heir or somethi-"

"Quiet, Harris!" The senior officer snapped, eyeing the witch disdainfully as he looked, up from the booklet clutched tightly in his fingers. "What's this personal business that you mentioned?"

A frown tugged at Jacqueline's lips at the question, but she met the tall man's gaze without wavering, "I'm visiting family and putting my affairs in order ahead of the last in a series of important medical rituals. Like I mentioned, it's personal."

"This ritual, is it dangerous?" Officer Fletcher asked with a furrowed brow.

"Not to anybody but myself, but I'm more than willing to take that risk." Jacque answered honestly, her frown growing into a nervous smile at finally being on the precipice of bringing this journey she'd been on for seven years to a close. Who knew what would come after, but she would be finished - complete. Or she could die of blood loss and in excruciating agony.

Either way, she was ready.

"You don't look ill...what is it meant to do?" The mustachioed wizard asked gruffly while Williams cast a dumbfounded stare at his superior's invasive question.

"That's between me and my ritualist, Officer Fletcher." Jacqueline replied cooly, her excitement abruptly doused by the abrasive man. She reached expectantly for her passport, since he still hadn't made any effort to return it, only for him to hold the booklet further up where he thought she couldn't reach it.

The redhead could feel a growl beginning to rumble up from deep in her chest at the taunting behavior but managed to suppress the urge to simply leap up and rip her documents from his weak grasp. Instead, she leveled an icy glare at the middle-aged wizard and held out her hand expectantly.

"I'm sure you have other people to see tonight, Sir, so unless there's anything else I can do to help you..."

A steely grey glare met Jacqueline's own, and the witch started to worry that she'd somehow managed to stumble face-first into uninvited trouble yet again.

"You've declared an awful lot of luggage to be sent ahead of you, Miss Evans. Just how long are you planning on staying in our country?"

"Sir, it's clearly marked on her forms that-" Williams tried to pipe in, to no avail.

Fletcher waved the brunette off dismissively, "I know what the forms say, Harris, but you can never be too careful. We don't want to go letting the wrong sort in - the Ministry's been tightening security for a reason, after all. "

Jacqueline's lips curled into an annoyed scowl, "You do understand that I was born here, don't you? Did you actually read that little book you keep waving around, or are you just using it as a fan to keep the flies away whenever you open your mouth?"

"And you," The witch rounded on the younger wizard, "How many times are you going to let him call you Harris before you tell him that's not your bloody name?! Grow a spine and stand up for yourself, damn it!"

Immediately she regretted lashing out, partially due to the mortified way Williams' lips were flapping without making any sound along with the vermillion shade reminiscent of Vernon's many tirades that was working its way onto his boss' face. But mostly because as far as most of the world was concerned Jacqueline Evans was raised primarily in the United States, rather than on her home island. Not that she thought this one incident would topple that particular house of cards - she was hardly famous, but she still didn't need the attention that making a scene like this garnered.

There was also the fact that she'd been horridly rude, of course, but the man had started it.

"Answer the question, Evans." Fletcher growled lowly. "Or you won't be going anywhere until I've done a very thorough search of your person."

Between Fletcher's menacing tone, his blatant disregard for boundaries - both professional and social, and most importantly his legally protected status as a ministry employee, Jacque knew that under no circumstances could she be isolated with this man. Not if she didn't want a one-way ticket to Azkaban, at least.

"Four months, maybe a little bit more." The redhead answered through gritted teeth while her totem began to burn angrily against her chest.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" A mocking smile spread across the senior officer's face as he finally lowered his arm, allowing the witch to snatch her passport back before he could taunt her with it again.

Jacqueline slipped the booklet back into her jacket pocket without breaking eye contact with the wizard, "Am I free to go now?" She asked frostily, pointedly refusing to engage with the malicious teasing.

Venom flashed in the man's cold grey eyes, and it looked as though he very much wanted to drag her off to some side room to interrogate her further. The wail of an exhausted toddler broke their stare down in Jacque's favor and a deep frown etched itself onto Fletcher's face when he cast a frustrated glare over her shoulder at the increasingly impatient crowd waiting for him.

"Mind yourself, Evans, both you and your money-grubbing friends over at Gringotts would do well to remember that the Ministry of Magic doesn't take kindly to troublemakers."

The Curse-Breaker's scowl deepened when Officer Fletcher shoulder-checked her as he stormed off toward his next unsuspecting victim with a thoroughly rattled Williams in tow. Grasping a callused hand around her scorching totem, Jacque closed her eyes and took deep soothing breaths. Once the heat subsided and the red haze around her thoughts began to clear she hastily made for the lounge's exit and made an immediate left without bothering to read the map posted outside the door.

"What a fucking tool..." The redhead grumbled under her breath on her approach to the Department of Magical Transportation's Floo Network terminal. Her eyes swept the mostly empty lobby just in time to see a dark-haired figure disappear into the acrid green flames of the center fireplace without so much as a glance back over her shoulder. Not that it surprised her much, Daphne Greengrass never looked back whenever she walked away from something, so far as Jacquline could tell.

An unexpected pang of disappointment at the fleeting encounter with the blue-eyed witch sparked briefly in Jacque's chest before she ruthlessly squashed it. Unwilling to examine these emotions any further, the duelist dug into her coin purse and pulled out a sickle for the blonde witch manning the night-clerk station, who stared back at her wide-eyed.

"Ma'am the Floo powder is only fifteen knuts." The night clerk supplied helpfully as she started to make change, clearly expecting the redhead to stop. Instead, she simply barreled through and grabbed a healthy pinch of the shimmering powder.

"Donate my change to the unaccompanied minor fund, please." Jacque called over her shoulder, before clearing her throat and tossing the Floo powder into the same central fireplace Daphne had disappeared into moments earlier. Hopefully Winky would have the fire going at home, or else she'd probably be spit out in the orchard's dormitory common room again.

"Emerald Grove Cottage!"

Jacqueline sucked in a deep breath and braced herself before plunging forth into the fire. The moment she did, the world became a whirling blur around her, and she struggled to keep her lunch as unfamiliar living rooms flashed by too quickly to make out any of the individual details. At this point, all she could hope for is that she would manage to land on her feet this time.


A/N: While I'm excited to fully kick this story off, it may be slow going for a while. Unsurprisingly, life is busy and hectic, and while I want to be able to put out longer chapters I feel like shorter bite-sized updates are preferable in these circumstances. Also, for those of you worried about missing out on seven years of life, not to worry. The gap will be explored, either through a time-warp mechanic or a separate short story regarding the period.