Hello readers! This is my first fanficiton! I'm so excited! :D Okay, so this is a crossover Dramione of Harry potter and Vampirates, hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I don't not, nor will i sadly ever own Harry Potter or Vampirates. They belong to the brilliant J. K. Rowling and Justin Somper. But I can still write about them.
The salty breeze of the ocean whipped through my brown, curly hair and filled my nose with its strong scent. Rays of sun warmed my body as I lounged on a beach towel. My eyes followed the waves in their repetitive motion of crashing onto the sand before rushing back to the ocean. A few wispy clouds dotted the blue sky. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
Several books lay at my side. All muggle of, course. I was catching up on muggle work since I had spent so much time in the Wizarding World, and had neglected the one I was born into, which was why I was spending my entire summer with my parents away from magic.
The beach in America was a nice get-away from the dismal place I had become used to in England. The war had been a wrecking ball, damaging even the best of things, such as Hogwarts, or George Weasley- he was torn up to shreds with grief over his twin. Everyone was in mourning, and I...I wanted to forget it ever happened.
I hated dreaming of the haunted eyes of the dead floating and blaming me as I was helpless to save all of them. I hated dreaming of Bellatrix leaning over me, laughing mentally in my ears, the sound ringing in my head even after I would wake up... I paled at the thought.
"Honey, are you alright dear?" I turned my head to face my father, and gave him a weak smile.
"I'm fine Dad. But I think I've had a little too much sun. What about you?"
"I think so, too," he replied turning to my mother, "Want to go inside Sweetheart?"
"Inside sounds lovely. Besides, I fear if I stay outside any longer I'll be turned into a lobster." She wrinkled her freckled nose as she pointed to us the already bright pink patches of her skin.
We gathered up our beach supplies and headed toward the quaint beach house that we were staying at. Once inside the cool air conditioning, I went to change out of my swimsuit and into some light, comfy clothes.
When I came back out, my mum was eating a bowl of ice cream on the couch. I grabbed a bowl of vanilla and joined her.
"Where's dad?" I asked, taking a huge bite. It was cold, but tasted so good in my mouth.
"He went to to get dinner for us."
"So you decided to eat ice cream?"
"Yes. So you never told me what happened with you and Ronald." She looked at me quizzingly, one shaped eyebrow arched over her green eye. For a moment they reminded me of Harry's eyes.
I blushed at her words. Ron and I had kissed on the night the war had ended. It had been my first real kiss. It hadn't been an amiable peck on the lips, but a passionate, foot-popping kiss. One that involved more than just lips. I blushed more, remembering how I'd felt during that kiss.
But sadly as it turned out, we were nothing more than two really good friends with raging hormones than actual lovers. We argued, fought, and often were too awkward alone together when all we were doing was talking. The only part we had gotten right was the kissing. Relationships weren't built on pure lust though, so our's crumbled like dried out icing.
"Just friends, Mum. I told you how it didn't work out. It was too... awkward." I quickly took another bite of my vanilla ice cream, feeling my cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of cherry red.
"Oh, that's right. I forgot."
"Mum, can you tell me how you and dad fell in love? Please?" I pouted my lips, giving the full effect of my puppy-dog face.
"You always want to hear that story. Do you ever tire of it, Hermione?" she laughed.
I loved hearing the story of my parents falling in love. It was so captivating. I could never tire of hearing that tale, it gave hope to people like me, who lived with no love-life at all. "Nope. Never."
"Never what?" A new voice joined. My father walked up behind my mum and gave her a sweet kiss at the corner of her mouth. Even now, twenty years into their marriage, they were very intimate and the two most hopelessly in love saps I knew.
"I'll never tire of hearing how you two fell in love."
"Oh?" he replied, a fake look of surprise etched onto his tan features.
"Can you please tell me? Mum refuses!" I pouted again. My father was always the weaker one.
"If you help me set the table for dinner."
I jumped up and got straight to work. I went to the the kitchen and grabbed the plates and silverware as my father began.
"Your mum and I both went to the same school over in Surrey, pretty close to where Harry lives. We were best friends for the longest time. Every summer we'd spend over at each other's houses, go camping, swimming at the lake, watching movies, that sort of thing.
"Our senior year, we had a fight over this guy who she had started dating. I knew he had a tendency to be a bit of a cheater, and I had warned her about him."
"More like ordered me that I would never speak with him again." Mum piped in.
Dad gave her a look of feigned irritation, but continued. "And being the stubborn person your mother is, she ignored my advise and continued to date the git. I had become increasingly jealous of the man, I'll admit. I had always had your mother to myself since we were both kind of outcasts back then."
"Back then?" I added sarcastically.
"Are you two going to let me finish or what?"
I giggled, "Please finish Dad, I promise to be quiet."
"You better. Now, where did I leave off? Yes, I was jealous that I couldn't spend any time with my best friend, so I took my vented up feelings out on your mother, instead of just telling her the truth. After a football game, we had all went to a party, and I had seen your mum and the guy, well, snogging, and that had just sent me off the edge. I ended up getting punched by her for calling her some bad names, and we never spoke after that.
"We graduated that year without seeing each other, and then one day, when I was walking through the park on my way to work, I saw a woman crying. I wasn't going to walk over there, but then I noticed the necklace she was wearing. It was the necklace I had bought your mother for her eighteenth birthday. I realized it was your mother.
"So I went over to the bench that she was sitting on, and kind of sat there until she noticed me. When she finally noticed someone was sitting next to her, she looked at me, and the next thing I knew, she had flung herself on me and started crying harder. She began to calm eventually and I asked her what was wrong. Her only answer was 'you were right'. "
"And then she kissed you!" I added happily. I was finished setting the table and was putting the food on it now.
"Yes, she kissed me. And I was so scared, I nearly fell off of the bench. After that, we started dating and married soon after we graduated medical school. We tried for children for two years, when we realized that we couldn't have any. Immediately your mother decided if she wasn't having children, we were going to adopt. So we adopted a girl, and the moment we bought you home we knew that we were the luckiest parents alive."
I blushed as I poured us all cranberry juice. My parents always seemed to add that part to their story. For a second I pondered if my real parents were magical, and what people like Malfoy would say if they were. But it didn't matter, because the only parents I had were ones that loved me, and I was proud to be their daughter.
After I cleaned up dinner, I went to bed. Laying there in my bed, I let my mind wonder and so my thoughts had drifted back to earlier ones. What would it be like to have grown up with my birth parents. Would I have grown up snobby and ignorant like Parkinson? Or would I still be the same nerdy me, but with more power in the world? Would people like the Zabini's and Malfoy's give a bleeding hell about what I had to say?
Or would it be like Harry's abusive childhood? I could see me being like Matilda, a little girl off of a movie. She had been neglected, but had powers like a witch and she was a bookworm like myself.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by the racket going on outside from the storm.The rain was hitting my bedroom window like tiny bullets, making a pitter-patter noise. Great, bright bolts of light made it possible for me to see the stormy waves battle and crash into each other. I hoped that no boat was near the storm, it looked ferocious out there.
As if my thoughts had brought the image of a ship in the sea out of my head, I saw a ship. Thunder crackled and more light was exposed by lightening.
The ship looked old. It was black, and the main sail was tattered. In fact it almost looked tattered on purpose, the shredded ends in a pattern. Almost like a bat's wings.
I blinked and in the second it took me to do that, the ship with tattered sails was gone.
How strange, I thought, how strange indeed.
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