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Broken	By : ThePhantomPixie Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 5549 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Twilight, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from this fanfiction

Chapter List
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(Hermione's Point of View)

The day was seemingly uneventful considering what I knew of schooling from Hogwarts. There we no trolls, no Dragons, no Boggarts, Basilisks, Hippogryffs, Three Headed Dogs affectionately known as fluffy guarding the key to immortality or Blast Ended Skrewts. No Devils snare to get out of or prisoners to break free by way of time travel and most definitely no dark lords. Then again, the bright sunshine that I hadn't expected in the place commonly quoted as the 'rainiest town in America' -while not unwelcome to her pale skin - made it more difficult walking around in a thick leather jacket and black skinny jeans that emphasised just how difficult my time on the run from the Death Eaters had been. There had been little time on the run for such comforts as healthy balanced meals and by now it was showing.

I missed my emblazoned red and gold robes, my uniform skirt and tie, my dragon hide gloves and boots. I missed the constant noise of quills scratching against parchment, the horrid hooting of owls at every given time and oddly enough … I even missed Potions class. Yet i knew that getting through at least my first day in the school I would find it easier to understand the way the classes worked. So far I had sat at the back of ever class after a brief introduction and awkward awe filled silence at my accent. No-one had expected the thick English accent apparently, and with the strange looks they gave me over my name one word simply sated them.

'Shakespeare'.

It had been no secret during my childhood that I was named after a fictional character in a play, but it did make my time in school more difficult given the way my muggle friends reacted to having such a person around them. I guessed this was just the same group of muggles, simply older and Americanised.

Ever since I entered Hogwarts for the first time I knew my life would change, I anticipated the thrill of challenges and threw myself into my work. Normally managing to be ahead of everyone with little effort. Here I knew nothing of the curriculum and had to make do with the fact that no-one was going to tell me anything helpful since I was not to sit any exam at the end of the year. Loss for them. Loss for me. It meant I had no homework to do. that meant less studying and more time devoted to mourning the loss of a life that I believed I could enjoy until my dying days. Never the less it made the transition period easier in many ways when no-one knew about mountain trolls, or Voldemort, or Bellatrix Lestrange ... that woman to this day continued to create chills down my spine. she was a constant reminder that magic was as dangerous as it was beautiful. No matter how little prompt i needed in being reminded of such matters.

The massive scar that I hid from sight at all times did that for me. Each time I moved it burned me, every time I took a new breath I was reminded of the duel with Antonin Dolahov in the Department of Mysteries when I was only fifteen. Expected to defend myself against a man over three times my age. Whoever believed we were special had never seen the looks of fear on us as children. Or ... more likely, they simply chose to ignore the overwhelming fear emanating from us at all times. It wouldn't have been the first time the Order or the Ministry thought they knew better than those actually going against the dark wizards.

"Right guys, break into partners. Time for your class assignment!"

the resounding groans around the room served to give me the idea that this teacher was something of a sticker for group projects, no matter the subject. As it was American History I knew I was going to have trouble getting anything done for the teacher. Usually at this point the class would break off into the pairs they had arrived. indicating a lack of warmth from the student body. Perhaps it was just me, did my magic make me something of an avoidance for them? I had never felt such things when i walked around town.

then again, I could put it down to the whole Idea of the new girl knowing nothing and to befriend her would bring a new level of maturity to the student body that many of them would not be able to cope with the responsibility of a potential clingy person waiting for them to do everything and show them everything that was possibly existing on the subject. However, surprisingly the teacher gave me a sympathetic look and gave me a simple gesture toward an empty desk, muttering that the other occupant was off sick but he would be the best partner for someone like me.

Someone like me. He doesn't know what I am. Poor soul that was caught having to work with me for the rest of the term. It seemed as Circe herself was trying my patience. My life would never be the one I wanted. I would simply have to accept it. Of course the muggles would never be able to know that I was something different from them, it would break one of the most fundamental rules of the wizarding world and I highly doubted the obliviators would be pleased having to erase the memories of an entire town in north America. That and the wizarding president would not be pleased about her lack of discretion. At least it would all be over in a year. She only needed the one year finishing the schooling system in America.

Thankfully, due to the fact that i was not expected to do much more than take notes, the class moved quickly. Letting me take time to appreciate the sheer amount of history that needed to go into any one of these projects. For someone to really understand something like this they must really have an affinity for the subject. Much in the way I had for charms and transfiguration. Of course something like American history was not terribly boring like History of magic; and thanks to the selection in the school library I was sure i would be able to exhaust the subject within at least a week. For now, I simply needed to get through the day.

By the end of the day however I found that the temptation of a school library was not as appealing as the thought of owning the books myself. Overhearing from some of the other students that there was a book store nearby I would be able to get some money together and keep them to myself. Something of my old life that I had retained. I would always enjoy books, it was something that had been present before i went to Hogwarts and thankfully was something that had stayed after. If i had nothing else in the world, i knew i would always have my books. So, once the final bell had rang my one thought was trained on getting on my bike and getting out of the atmosphere of school.

The bike ride wasn't long to the center of Forks where the book store was situated. Without even dropping off my stuff at the house I descended down the streets on the motor. Roaring down the street and making sure with each minute that passed that the machine stayed firmly on the ground. It would do no good to take off at a time like this. Being afraid of heights in her youth, Hermione found that being off the ground felt easier on the bike. Far more than it had been on a thin broomstick where there was no real seat to support me. the motorbike however was specially made to hold one person safely. Its muggle design was one that Mr Weasley had simply enhanced. Added with my own cushioning and sticking charms whenever I sat on the plush leather seat it made the ride all the easier. the handlebars helped too however.

The bookshop was neither large no fancy. It suited the town well with its local and customer based look. It held no up market charm or overworked ploys to get readers in. Simply the draw of books that were needed. That was all that I had ever seen the need for in bookshops. But oh how I missed Flourish and Blotts.

"Hey, I was wondering where you keep your books on American History? I need to choose a subject for class and I'd like to learn as much as i can as a basis." I said in a low voice to the shop keeper. Giving what I hoped was a soft smile. I never smiled much after the war. I never believed there was enough reason to truly be happy. I was alone in another world. Literally. I had seen horrors that people more than twice my age should not be subjected to and had been tortured on more than one occasion for the sake of a supremacy that would ultimately mean the downfall of the hypocritical leader.

"Oh yes dear. The fourth and fifth stack from the back. It ranges from the puritan settlers right to the civil war. I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for." she said sweetly, obviously being used to students grumbling over books. What she didn't expect was twenty minutes later to find the my returning, arms laden with books wanting to purchase them all. "... a-are you sure? That's going to cost quite a bit dear."

"I checked the pricing." I said plainly, handing over a few of my larger muggle notes to the woman. Expressing my wish to forgo the change and left with no words. silently taking my wand out of its holder up my sleeve and mumbling a short incantation before putting all the books in my magically enlarged bag; each one making no difference to the look of the outside of it nor the weight before sliding back onto the back of the bike. Tucking my hair up into a messy bun before slipping my helmet over the top and pushing her wand back up into her tight leather jacket I revved the machine into life and set off. Roaring down the roads once more.

All the while feeling a strange buzzing at the back of my mind as a pair of golden eyes watched me from the nearby trees. High up, looking down. A strange feral glint in his eyes as he ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he retreated into the shadows once again. Making his way back to his home where his parents and brother would be interest to know what had got him so worked up.
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Broken