Then and Now: Prologue
To start things off here, I've decided to post up my first H/Hr work (and is still a WIP). This is posted up on AdultFanFiction.Net, and more than likely I'll continue to post following chapters of this story there as well as here. It's not much for a prologue, but again, this is my first H/Hr story, and to be honest, I've not written fanfiction in a very long time. It's been hard enough trying to find inspiration for my own original fiction let alone finding inspiration for Harry/Hermione fanfiction.
Anyway, enough with my rambling. Here's the prologue:
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does. If I did, the Crapilogue would never have happened, Harry and Hermione would have hooked up, and all the H/Hr shippers would be sleeping peacefully at night instead of grumbling in their sleep that Ron and Hermione are no good for each other.
Then and Now
Prologue: Recollections I: Two Weeks After the War
The light tapping of glass followed by the impatient screeching of an owl roused Harry from slumber. Groaning, he shuffled into a sitting position in his bed and looked out the window to see a bushy brown owl pecking at the glass. Rubbing sleep from one eye with a free hand, he sauntered over to the window, undid the latch and threw up the sash. The owl flew in, dropping a scroll and did a loop before perching on the end of his bed, screeching again.
“Not another one,” he said to himself as he picked up the scroll. On the binding there was a tag with a return address. He absently tossed it onto a literal mound of mail in a corner of the room that once belonged to his godfather. He shook his head. First, he was The Boy Who Lived, now he was The Hero of the Wizarding World. For a fleeting moment, he wished he was back at the Dursley household, completely shut away from both the Muggle world and the Wizarding world, ignored unless there was a chore in the house that no one else wanted to do…
He snorted, banishing the thought. Much as the attention grated away at him, he knew that many wizards and their families meant well. Voldemort was defeated; Death Eaters were being arrested left and right. People finally slept peacefully at night. And he was the cause of it all.
The owl at his bed screeched, bringing him from his thoughts. Careful, or you’ll get a big head, he thought as he opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and searched for some owl treats. As he found and picked up the fabric drawstring bag, a sudden wave of sadness washed over him. Hedwig… He pulled out a dried treat and flicked it in the delivery owl’s direction. He tossed it back in his trunk and picked up a velvet black pouch as the bird finished pecking at the piece of food. Taking a Sickle from the pouch, he tossed it towards the owl. It looked at him and blinked twice before picking up the coin and taking off, screeching as it left.
“Kreacher?” he called out. Immediately, the door to his room opened slowly, creaking all the way.
“Master Potter is awake,” the house-elf said hoarsely. He bowed subserviently, the locket around his neck clattering softly on the floor. “Kreacher was just about to wake Master Potter. Master Weasley and M-Mi...” Kreacher seemed to choke on the word, “…Miss Granger are downstairs.”
“When did they arrive?” Harry asked.
“Just now, Master,” he said. “Kreacher tried to follow your orders and ask Master Weasley and Mis-Miss Granger to leave to allow Master Potter rest. They kept returning, Master. For two weeks, Master. Kreacher wanted to punish himself but the…” He faltered again. “Miss Granger would not allow it.”
The smile came unbidden to his lips. “It’s all right, Kreacher. You did no wrong. Tell them to come up. I’ll be changed in a moment.”
“Yes, Master,” Kreacher said, turning to leave.
“And thank you,” Harry added, remembering who was visiting him.
“Master Potter is too kind to Kreacher,” he heard the house-elf say as the door closed behind him. Quickly, Harry rummaged through the old dresser, changing into a pair of faded black jeans and a blue t-shirt. He was putting on a pair of socks when he heard a knocking at the door.
“Come in,” he called out, and immediately Hermione and Ron opened the door.
“You’re a bugger,” Ron said. “Hermione was seething for days.”
“Why?”
“Keeping Kreacher in the way of talking to you,” she replied knowingly. “You haven’t talked to us in a fortnight, Harry! Why?”
Harry shrugged. “You have families to see to right now.” He turned to Ron. “Much as I love the attention, I do need some time alone.”
“Are you mental? The entire world is out there having the time of their lives! The only reason other members of the Order haven’t barged in on the place is because we told them what you ordered Kreacher to tell us.”
Harry gestured to the small hill of paper at the corner of the room. “I know what’s going on out there, Ron. I think I’ve gotten owls from every wizard family in the country thanking me for defeating You-Know-Who.”
“Don’t think we haven’t!” snapped Hermione. “The guest room in my house is full of them! I shudder to think what Mum and Dad will do when they get home from their vacation and see what happened!”
Ron smiled lopsidedly. “George and Lee are having the times of their lives reading all the fan mail I’ve been getting. Even Percy’s had a go or two at me.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Good to know your family’s getting along then.” He turned to Hermione. “When do you think they’ll be getting home from Australia?”
Hermione shrugged and her shoulders seemed to slump. “They’ll be home in a few days. I asked Ron’s dad and Kingsley if I could have some Obliviators help me set their memories straight. Professor McGonagall is going to go herself to make sure everything goes smoothly.” The fire in her eyes that disappeared briefly returned with full force. “Don’t change the subject, Harry! We’re all worried about you!”
“I’m fine,” he said, though that didn’t seem to allay their concern. “Really, I’m fine! I just need some space for a bit. You know we’ve been swarmed by friends and Death Eaters alike since we Apparated into Hogsmeade. With everything that’s gone on, can’t I ask for a bit of time alone?”
“Why, though, Harry?” Hermione asked.
Harry took a breath, trying to get his thoughts together. “After all that we’ve done, after all that Dumbledore’s asked me, asked us, to do, after realizing that all we did was actually laid out for me…” He shrugged and his voice fell to a somber tone. “After doing it all, I’ve got no direction. What’s there for me now?”
As if to answer, three owls swooped in, each dropping an envelope, did a quick turn in the air and left without so much as a screech. Confused, they each picked up an envelope. Ron and Harry stared at each other in horror while a smug smile began to form on Hermione’s face. Each letter was from Headmistress McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Anyway, enough with my rambling. Here's the prologue:
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does. If I did, the Crapilogue would never have happened, Harry and Hermione would have hooked up, and all the H/Hr shippers would be sleeping peacefully at night instead of grumbling in their sleep that Ron and Hermione are no good for each other.
Then and Now
Prologue: Recollections I: Two Weeks After the War
The light tapping of glass followed by the impatient screeching of an owl roused Harry from slumber. Groaning, he shuffled into a sitting position in his bed and looked out the window to see a bushy brown owl pecking at the glass. Rubbing sleep from one eye with a free hand, he sauntered over to the window, undid the latch and threw up the sash. The owl flew in, dropping a scroll and did a loop before perching on the end of his bed, screeching again.
“Not another one,” he said to himself as he picked up the scroll. On the binding there was a tag with a return address. He absently tossed it onto a literal mound of mail in a corner of the room that once belonged to his godfather. He shook his head. First, he was The Boy Who Lived, now he was The Hero of the Wizarding World. For a fleeting moment, he wished he was back at the Dursley household, completely shut away from both the Muggle world and the Wizarding world, ignored unless there was a chore in the house that no one else wanted to do…
He snorted, banishing the thought. Much as the attention grated away at him, he knew that many wizards and their families meant well. Voldemort was defeated; Death Eaters were being arrested left and right. People finally slept peacefully at night. And he was the cause of it all.
The owl at his bed screeched, bringing him from his thoughts. Careful, or you’ll get a big head, he thought as he opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and searched for some owl treats. As he found and picked up the fabric drawstring bag, a sudden wave of sadness washed over him. Hedwig… He pulled out a dried treat and flicked it in the delivery owl’s direction. He tossed it back in his trunk and picked up a velvet black pouch as the bird finished pecking at the piece of food. Taking a Sickle from the pouch, he tossed it towards the owl. It looked at him and blinked twice before picking up the coin and taking off, screeching as it left.
“Kreacher?” he called out. Immediately, the door to his room opened slowly, creaking all the way.
“Master Potter is awake,” the house-elf said hoarsely. He bowed subserviently, the locket around his neck clattering softly on the floor. “Kreacher was just about to wake Master Potter. Master Weasley and M-Mi...” Kreacher seemed to choke on the word, “…Miss Granger are downstairs.”
“When did they arrive?” Harry asked.
“Just now, Master,” he said. “Kreacher tried to follow your orders and ask Master Weasley and Mis-Miss Granger to leave to allow Master Potter rest. They kept returning, Master. For two weeks, Master. Kreacher wanted to punish himself but the…” He faltered again. “Miss Granger would not allow it.”
The smile came unbidden to his lips. “It’s all right, Kreacher. You did no wrong. Tell them to come up. I’ll be changed in a moment.”
“Yes, Master,” Kreacher said, turning to leave.
“And thank you,” Harry added, remembering who was visiting him.
“Master Potter is too kind to Kreacher,” he heard the house-elf say as the door closed behind him. Quickly, Harry rummaged through the old dresser, changing into a pair of faded black jeans and a blue t-shirt. He was putting on a pair of socks when he heard a knocking at the door.
“Come in,” he called out, and immediately Hermione and Ron opened the door.
“You’re a bugger,” Ron said. “Hermione was seething for days.”
“Why?”
“Keeping Kreacher in the way of talking to you,” she replied knowingly. “You haven’t talked to us in a fortnight, Harry! Why?”
Harry shrugged. “You have families to see to right now.” He turned to Ron. “Much as I love the attention, I do need some time alone.”
“Are you mental? The entire world is out there having the time of their lives! The only reason other members of the Order haven’t barged in on the place is because we told them what you ordered Kreacher to tell us.”
Harry gestured to the small hill of paper at the corner of the room. “I know what’s going on out there, Ron. I think I’ve gotten owls from every wizard family in the country thanking me for defeating You-Know-Who.”
“Don’t think we haven’t!” snapped Hermione. “The guest room in my house is full of them! I shudder to think what Mum and Dad will do when they get home from their vacation and see what happened!”
Ron smiled lopsidedly. “George and Lee are having the times of their lives reading all the fan mail I’ve been getting. Even Percy’s had a go or two at me.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Good to know your family’s getting along then.” He turned to Hermione. “When do you think they’ll be getting home from Australia?”
Hermione shrugged and her shoulders seemed to slump. “They’ll be home in a few days. I asked Ron’s dad and Kingsley if I could have some Obliviators help me set their memories straight. Professor McGonagall is going to go herself to make sure everything goes smoothly.” The fire in her eyes that disappeared briefly returned with full force. “Don’t change the subject, Harry! We’re all worried about you!”
“I’m fine,” he said, though that didn’t seem to allay their concern. “Really, I’m fine! I just need some space for a bit. You know we’ve been swarmed by friends and Death Eaters alike since we Apparated into Hogsmeade. With everything that’s gone on, can’t I ask for a bit of time alone?”
“Why, though, Harry?” Hermione asked.
Harry took a breath, trying to get his thoughts together. “After all that we’ve done, after all that Dumbledore’s asked me, asked us, to do, after realizing that all we did was actually laid out for me…” He shrugged and his voice fell to a somber tone. “After doing it all, I’ve got no direction. What’s there for me now?”
As if to answer, three owls swooped in, each dropping an envelope, did a quick turn in the air and left without so much as a screech. Confused, they each picked up an envelope. Ron and Harry stared at each other in horror while a smug smile began to form on Hermione’s face. Each letter was from Headmistress McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.