Reposted. From my other Pen Name 'Pixiekiz'
Summary: "Hermione is left broken by the war and the ever-present threat of rogue Death Eaters. Can one Texan vampire repair the shards of her existence, or will he push her that one step too far?" AU, Post-DH, Ignores Epilogue
Shipping: Hermione/Jasper (Jasmione) - slight Alice/Jasper in the beginning
Rating: M - Warnings for Language, Explicit content, Adult Themes
Timeline: Set in January 1998 - Pre Bella -
Disclaimer: I own none of the recognisable content from either of J.K's Harry Potter series or Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. All original content and situations belong to me. I make no money from this Fanfiction and write simply for pleasure.
2024 update - believe it or not after 8 years I am returning to this story and my others, I am editing all chapters to be readable and will begin posting new chapters very soon. Thank you everyone for continuing to believe in this story and reminding me of my love for writing.
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The war had been difficult for everyone. Bloody and unforgiving. Loved ones were lost alongside those who killed them. Friends and family mourned for those who had given their lives for 'The Greater Good' both willingly and not. Many people now hated that phrase. 'The Greater Good' had done nothing in the way of good since the famous Albus Dumbledore introduced it to the wizarding world almost forty years ago. Those who worked for 'The Greater Good' were tired. They were sick. Many were more broken than they wished to admit in both body and spirit. The ones whose lives were taken from them by force and those who offered them down for the sake of defeating one who was said to be the darkest wizard of all time were for the most part, decorated hero's. However, those who knew the inner workings of the defeat of Lord Voldemort; who on the outside were busy celebrating the ultimate victory that was the downfall of the darkest wizard known to the world, remained ever vigilant of the remaining Death Eaters that became rogue and scattered around the world. For the first few months, the Minister for Magic, Pius Thicknesse laid claim to the victory as one made by the tireless efforts of the Aurors and those working on the front lines in the Department of Law Enforcement. The more positive publicity he could glean from the war, the easier his re-election would be.
Only the remaining Order of the Phoenix members who survived the battle at Hogwarts knew the whole truth about the level of deceit the Ministry of Magic had fed to the general public over the years through their control of the media. Of them; only three knew how deep the terrors of the war had run. Yet they had held strong. Three teenagers became a single united front once more and told the wizarding world that there was indeed no need for them anymore, and that they had returned to their studies.
At least, that was the guise that left many people believing their world was once again returning to normal.
To their knowledge, even the saviors of the wizarding were going about their normal lives like nothing happened.
Of course; when did the Golden Trio ever do things the way they were supposed to be done.
Harry Potter; a boy wealthy beyond all imagination. Not only from the Potter inheritance, but that of the Black family fortune and status left to him in the will of one Sirius Orion Black, and indeed his own reward for his 'Order of Merlin - First Class' for the defeat of the dark lord Voldemort. He now held a steady income of investments and was making a life with his girlfriend Ginny wonderfully enriched following the end of the war. They had moved out of the now rebuilt Burrow and taken over his Godfathers old home in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. It made for a safe haven where they could get away from the media while Ginny was able to floo back and forth to the house at the weekends.
Harry remained an active member of the order, although his missions never began without a clever glamour to alter his appearance. For now, Harry Potter had disappeared. Replaced by a stockier, golden-haired menace whose smirk could rival that of a Malfoy. He' along with his best friend Ron would work side by side like old times. However, when the red haired boy returned from missions it was always into the warm arms of his beloved girlfriend, Lavender Brown. Despite everything that had transpired from the final battle, that kiss they had shared as she lay in the Hospital wing recovering had become a pivotal moment in their relationship.
When compared to his kiss with Hermione, he felt awkward, without emotion and in all reality, Ronald had compared it to kissing Ginny. They had agreed that their impromptu kiss on the battlefield was simply one of relief. For being alive. Not something to build a relationship on. And that was for the best.
The boys enjoyed the freedom that came with the compensation money from the ministry, Ron choosing to use most of it in rebuilding the Burrow, now a more sizable (and stable) home where the family no longer lived in extreme poverty. His brothers and Ginny had never been more proud of him.
However, during all the excitement few noticed the growing bags under the eyes of one Hermione Granger. Reminded nightly during intense nightmares of the terrors witnessed during the war; she had resolved herself to taking dreamless sleep potions nightly. The resulting mood swings were something akin to her studying for an exam and many believed she was simply going back to old habits, never once questioning the addictive qualities of the potions she was imbibing or the weight she continued to lose. It had hurt her that no one seemed to notice that she was in many ways falling apart; however she took solace in the silver lining that while she became more isolated and withdrawn, they would never pester her with prompts to be optimistic.
The fact remained that she was a liability to the order now that the rise in muggle attacks, and disappearances of muggle borns were not being publicised anymore. Though they had lost their leader, their frontman, the Death Eaters were still a liability and continued to spread their plague of twisted Pureblood ideologies wherever they went. Despite their lack of coordination within the Order of the Phoenix now that all their own figureheads had taken a step back, the survival rates for missions remained at a steady loss. It was for that reason Hermione fled from the comforts of England. From the security of Europe, and resolved herself to find a place where she knew no-one would know her name. After all, she was still being stopped in the streets for autographs. She was the only one who kept her appearance unchanged. Using complex and draining glamours to simply hide the many painful scars that littered her body. They were a reminder of the months when she was on the run, forced into hiding from the very world that had plucked her from her own childhood.
Of course, as luck would have it one remaining dark spot of her past could not be glamoured away.
Cutting from her right shoulder; down to under her left breast shone an ugly blackish purple welt. It occasionally reacted to apparation magic and burned whenever she cast the complex runic glamours over herself. But it was an unfortunate side effect of fighting in a war from the age of eleven for the rights of people far older than her. She was thrust into a responsibility when she was from a completely different world. One where she believed, after the war was over that she would once more belong.
Keeping her wand with her at all times as a precaution made her feel safer. Yet all the same she looked over her shoulders and documented her surroundings. Listening to the gentle hum of the magic in her brain. It told her whenever things were not quite right. It warned her when things were not distinctly muggle and unfortunately, it was that same instinct that made her nightmares feel so real each time they visited her in her sleep. It seemed dreamless sleep potions were not as potent without their resident potions master around to increase their strength.
It had been four months since she had set off from England. Keeping to hotels and high population tourist areas to keep her profile low, until she could reach her final stop. The small sign welcoming her to Forks, Washington was charming initially. Covered in the same green moss that surrounded the area. It made her think rather fondly of her first memories of Hogwarts. Of her first moments catching a glimpse of the grand castle and the surrounding Forbidden Forest. Back then, the only thing hounding the memories of her and her two best friends just happened to be a fifteen foot tall mountain troll with a sinus problem. Simpler days indeed.
As she took herself around the new area that was completely muggle (as confirmed by the American Ministry of Magic and Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt) she studied the school where the locals all attended. Before arriving and weeks in advance she had been enrolled with the American Ministry approved cover story that she was a transfer student who had finished her schooling in advance, thus allowing her to bypass any and all exams and simply absorbing the information given to her. She could not claim that she had the qualifications. But she could tell the authorities that she finished high school to the level that they set for those in their country. The American wizarding president had been more than willing to allow her to attend a muggle school considering all that she had done for the wider wizarding world, not simply Britain. After all, who was going to begrudge THE Hermione Granger - one third of the famous Golden Trio the chance to go to a school? Definitely not he.
"Better get this over with ..." She mumbled softly, swinging her leg over the enchanted motorbike that had once belonged to Sirius Black. A 'going away' gift as Harry had put it. It was the same machine that had carried him to the Dursleys all those years ago and he simply wanted nothing to do with it. Even after Mr Weasleys fixing it up and removing the side car the white 1959 Triumph Bonneville was given with no more than a mumbled thank you from either party and was now the sole transportation used by the war veteran of eighteen. It was a terrible thought that so many years ago the same bike had found the dead Potters house in Godrics Hollow. On the night that changed everything. That it had been the witness of so many negative events. Yet at the same time it brought the young witch a thrill to simply sit astride the great motor and hear it roar into life. Magically enchanted once upon a time to fit someone the size of Hagrid it had been returned to its original design, though it was no less magical. She had no intention of sharing or letting anyone ride the beautiful machine, so there was certainly no need for extra seating.
Giving the motor a good roaring start Hermione set off from her new home, a modest two bedroom house not five miles from the school. A short enough ride that she could get there in a solid ten minutes. It gave her time to take a loop around small town, gave her a chance to study the people around her and thankfully, take in whatever possible escape routes she may need in the future should trouble arise. The monetary reward from her Order of Merlin first class was enough that the humble house did not make too big a dent in her Gringotts account. How Harry could cope with such a large sum of money was unthinkable.
With a large black helmet covering her face and enough leather to make a cow concerned, Hermione reached the school without issue. She had found the idea of waiting to go back to school simply unbearable and after pulling the right strings, managed to get her first day settled right in the middle of term, meaning she could hopefully slot right in without fanfare or any sort of extra attention. Easing the motor down to a low hum she looked around and was startled by the sheer amount of people around her who watched with fascination. 'Brilliant.' She thought with a tinge of suppressed anxiety. 'I'm the freak all over again. Bloody brilliant.'
Bringing the bike into one of the free parking spots she looked around through the visor and gave a weak sigh. People were already staring intently at her and wondering who the new person was. Some of the girls mistaking her for a guy tittered excitedly as she rode past them. Forgivable, as Hermione had never really dressed like a female; yet insulting at the same time. She had hoped America would not boast such a stereotypical image of people on motorbikes being all male. Shame.
Swinging her leg over the bike and picking up her shoulder bag from the compartment at the back of the bike - another handy addition - Hermione gave the crowd a second to hopefully look away before she reached up and removed the helmet, hearing a resounding gasp. The very female looking brunette let her hair fall over her shoulders. Now sitting relatively more tame around the middle of her back the brown tresses that she had wrestled with during school had seemed to even out once given the care and attention it needed. A short cry of "Oh my god! It's a girl!" Made her grimace. Thanking Merlin that her wand was tucked safely away within her sleeve holster and at hand should she need it, Hermione didn't even bother locking away the bike. Knowing that anyone who sat on it would face the wrath of her jinxes. Namely a very nasty case of the runs for anyone who dared sit down and a sudden sprouting of warts to anyone who handled it too roughly. A simple modification of the 'SNEAK' charm she had created during her time in Fifth Year.
Today would be a good day.
Today would not be about the war.
Today would be a new beginning.
Today, Hermione Granger was a free witch.
Author Note: 2024 update, i will be rewriting all chapters to make it legible for readers and to correct any errors i found in rereading my own work. Turns out teenage me did not do a lot of research before writing this!