He came to an abrupt stop as the rooftop fell away to a sheer plunge into the darkening street. The shadowy figure was still chasing hurriedly after him, slipping and staggering in all the places he had. He knew there was nowhere he could go. He had reached the summit of his life and it was quite similar to the bottom. He took a hesitant step towards the edge of the building, the tip of his shoes protuding out over the drop. Could he chance a jump? No way, at the very least he would snap his neck.
He peered nervously over his shoulder at the now apparent woman following him. She had come to a halt a few feet away and was watching him anxiously. As she took another tentative step in his direction his voice, unusally calm for the situation, broke out over the wailing wind. "Who are you? What do you want?"
She contemplated him silently before answering vaguely. "I'm just someone who wants to help. Please, just step down from the ledge."
"You don't look like a copper," he remarked after another quick glance over his shoulder. His arms were hanging resignedly by his sides. He took a great deep breath as the wind gave a particularly loud howl. He seemed to be relishing the fresh air. The billowing clouds overhead were scarpering in the other direction, away from them. The sun was beginning to reappear.
"I'm not with the police. John, please I can explain. But you have to come away from the edge." He could sense by her tone that she was frightened. He could hear the pleading cadence. He wondered who she worked for, was it Mickey Devins, the corrupted villain he had bought the drugs from. Perhaps he wanted them back. He reached into his trouser pocket with his right hand, outstetching his left to keep his precarious balance, and grabbed the two Ziploc baggies, filled halfway with white powder.
"Here," he smirked, tossing the bags over his shoulder without a backward glance. "Tell him I don't work for him anymore. Pushing coke and occasional E-bombs was never really my thing."
She threw the bags a wary look before returning her gaze to his back. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Could you please just come away from the ledge John?" she repeated. He noticed the frustration and impatience in her voice and it caused him to chuckle lightly to himself.
"So who are you? Why are chasing me? Who were the others?" Countless questions were zooming through his brain making his head spin. He had never been so utterly confused.
"I told you that I can explain but not now. We have to go somewhere safe," she urged.
"Safe from what? Safe from who?" he inquired tersely. He was exhausted, standing carelessly on a rooftop dangerously close to the edge. He desperately wanted answers but began to wonder whether they would help him.
When she recommenced speaking he knew she was wrestling with how much she should tell him. "Those people who broke into your apartment, they want you dead."
"Why?" He turned his face sideways in bewilderment.
"John..." she began but he cut her off immediately.
"It's Jonathon and don't tell me that I have to step off the edge. For all I know there could be swarms of police waiting to ambush this rooftop. I probably deserve it too," he spat, the self-reproach evident in his voice. "What's your name? At least give me that."
There was a pensive silence as she battled inwardly with herself. "Jane."
Coward said a familiar voice in her head. She needed more time, time that she did not have while there were throngs of Death Eaters and police hunting down this extremely confused yet riled character facing her with his back. Lupin had forgotten to mention where she should take him when she caught up with him. The Burrow was surely too exposed. She stopped her train of thought. She may not even be able to apprehend him, not in this troubled state, in this dire situation.
"Why do they want me dead, Jane?" His voice was firm, and she knew he would not budge until he knew.
"Because you are very important to them. Your death will be very significant for their people," she responded quickly.
"You're speaking in riddles Jane," he accused indignantly.
She huffed in frustration. "The longer we stay here the more dangerous it will be. I will tell you everything but you have to come with me."
He stepped backwards away from the ledge and turned. She felt as if the Earth had slowed its movements so that she could analyze his face, far older and wiser in expression than she could ever remember. His raven black hair was roughly cut and his strong jaw and pallid cheeks were covered with forgotten stubble. His startling green eyes flared with intensity as he took in her appearance.
He opened his mouth to say something but suddenly his throat felt constricted as he glimpsed the flash of recognition in her hazel eyes. Hermione silently berated herself on her unconscious flicker of weakness.
"Who are you?!" he yelled lunging at her. He grabbed her arms in a fierce grip that caused her to wince slightly. His eyes were exploring hers, their noses nearly making contact. She felt like he was searching, examining and scrutinizing her. She could feel the flickering of his breath warm on her face and she implored herself to look away but knew that that which she had feared was unfolding in front of her. The truth was becoming clearer, struggling for freedom. Some secrets cannot be kept.
"Please just come with me! I'll tell you but..."
"No, you're gonna tell me now," he shot back at her and pulling her still closer to him, fearing she would simply disappear or evaporate in the gusting winds.
She shut her eyes, resigned, before grasping his forearm. She twisted her own arm and they were enclosed in an impenetrable darkness being pressed very hard from all directions. Jonathon began fighting for air, feeling as if there were iron bands tightening around his chest, his eyeballs were being forced deeper into his skull before it all came to a startling stop. He took a great lungful of the muggy air before retching slightly after one of the strangest and uncomfortable experiences of his life.
Hermione sighed sympathetically as she watched him flex his fingers; stretch his arms out repeating the same with his legs as if he had only recently became conscious of his body. The expression on his face was of utmost bewilderment. Then his eyes took in the scene around them, very different to the one they had just left.
"What the f..." They were no longer standing amongst the rooftops of London being whipped viciously by the wind. Instead they were standing in an open glade surrounded by a high unassailable wall of gnarled ancient trees. The sky was a magnificent azure blue in the small opening in the trees above them, untouched or tarnished by a single cloud. Jonathon peered down at the ground, his feet almost totally covered by knee-length grass. His nostrils instantly picked up the odour of fresh trees and newly blooming vegetation.
"Where are we?" he asked, his gruff exterior betrayed by his voice laced with amazement.
"I'm not really sure. I assume it's a forest," she replied nonchalantly. Her decision to apparate out of London had been spur of the moment, at least out here they were a great distance from Death Eaters and the police.
"How? How are we here when just moments ago we were..." his voice trailed off as he continued revolving on the spot, his eyes darting between branches, the blue sky and the grass underfoot.
She took a deep breath before changing his entire life, just as Hagrid had done all those years ago. "Because I'm a witch."
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"Magic," he repeated for what felt like the thousandth time.
It had been hours since her revelation, the sky was now a deeper blue streaked with pink and gold, clear signs that the sun was setting. He was sitting among freshly cut grass which Hermione had trimmed in order to display her magical capabilities, his arms wrapped around his knees which were drawn up to his chest. Hermione sat next to him in the same position watching his face closely.
Astonishment was still apparent in his expression but she knew that he accepted what she had told him. She had revealed as much as she could, of the war, Voldemort, The Order of the Phoenix and of what had happened to him during the Battle of Hogwarts. Thankfully he had not yet asked why they had returned him to muggle society but knew the question was inevitable.
"And I was important, I had my role in the wizarding world," his voice broke her from her reverie. She had not had the courage to tell him who exactly he was, just that he had been a leading member against Lord Voldemort and eventually his downfall.
"Yes, you were very significant in the war. That is why the Death Eaters want you killed." If anyone had happened to come across them on a nights stroll they would have passed them off as young adults just enjoying a carefree chat to themselves in the privacy of the woods. Nothing in their countenance displayed how dark their conversation was or how changed a life had just become.
"What was my name?" Jonathon inquired, his green eyes meeting the grass as he spoke. His low voice was steeped in expectation.
"Potter...Harry Potter." He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and shifted to see brown eyes peering at him. Again he felt a sudden familiarity stir in the pit of his stomach and his brow furrowed.
"Who are you?"
She gave a guilty smile before confessing, the hand dropped instantaneously from his shoulder. "Hermione Granger. We attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together for six years and I helped you track down the Horcruxes. I was there when you destroyed Lord Voldemort...and when your memory was erased."
He nodded as if trying to understand what she had just revealed. He coughed before muttering "What about my family?"
"Your parents died when you were just a year old. Lord Voldemort murdered them because they were part of the resistance," she replied quickly hoping he would not inquire further. She had no intention telling him about the prophecy that had ultimately wreaked havoc on his entire life. For now, Jonathon Smith did not need that information. For a moment she glimpsed tears drift blurrily in his eyes before they disappeared.
"I wondered why they didn't try to find me," he mumbled thickly. His brow furrowed and he lifted his eyes to her anxious face. He knew that she was dreading the question he was about to ask but it didn't stop him. "Why didn't you?"
As fast as possible she revealed the reason they left him in muggle society, to give him a better life. She gazed expectantly at his brooding face through the impending darkness.
"It didn't work because from where I have been standing for the past six years...I've been living in hell," he spat, jumping to his feet.
She followed him so they were once again facing each other ready to make a useful retort but he cut her off. "Don't get me wrong, I know you wanted to give me a greater chance at a nice life, but it just...didn't work. And from the way you spoke of this...Harry Potter, people respected him, they fought with him and he seemed to be living without many problems except for the war. I mean I've lived under financial difficulties since I woke up. I've been attacked by the police, drug dealers, pimps and anyone else as desperate as I was, this guy Harry was heading into a fantastic life and...If I had woken up in your world, would I have been doing all of this shit?"
Hermione bit her lower lip pleading her mind to think faster. "I...No you probably wouldn't. But from what you just heard do you think that after everything Harry endured he would have lived a normal life?" She felt as if she was having an argument over this topic with a stranger, which she reasoned that she was.
"The war does sound awful, don't get me wrong but my whole life since I woke up, alone in a hospital in a city I didn't know, has been a battle. I would have easily been able to deal with life if those who loved me were with me when I recovered..." he broke off, his face screwing up in concentration. He looked as if he was thinking something through. "Wait...why are you telling me this now? I mean I get that the Death Eaters are keen on murdering me and I'm now a murder suspect but why are telling me everything now?"
"What...you think we're just going to sit back and watch you die? Or get arrested by the police?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"I don't know...After all this time does it make a difference what happens to me?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes...it does. It always has and always will. We couldn't just let you..."
"BUT YOU WERE PREPARED TO JUST LEAVE ME IN THE NORMAL 'MUGGLE' WORLD!" he roared in angst. His bestubbled face flushed red from fury. "There's another reason you wanted to help me, I'm sure of it. I don't trust you enough to just believe you wanted to help me. You want something from me...don't you?"
It was now utterly dark in the enclosed glade. Stars sparkled brightly in the overnight velvety sky but were not bright enough to ease the darkness. She silently lit the tip of her wand and held it out, sending shadows across his fierce features. Again his eyes startled her, boring deeply into hers without any sympathy. It alarmed her but this only increased her need to tell him the truth.
"The war is still raging amongst Voldemort's supporters. They attack ordinary people, men, women and children yet we are no closer to discovering from where they head all of these attacks. Most of the wizarding world is moving on, they are capable of seeing the future now that Lord Voldemort has been vanquished but it isn't possible for those who fought right at the centre. Because we witnessed every action and suffered every consequence. Certain members of the Order are under the belief that you could end this war, once and for all." There were tears brimming in her eyes but none fell to her cheek.
"Me?" He barked a disbelieving laugh. "I don't know any magic...you just told me..." he stopped, his features freezing on his face, mouth agape, eyes wide in dawning horror. "What? Are you just gonna kill me? Bring back your precious Harry. God, you people are really rubbish at cleaning up your own messes."
"There's a way we can give you back your memories..." she began, a single tear trailing down her cheek.
"NO! I won't consent to it," he bellowed maniacally. "You got rid of Potter, you ain't gonna get rid of Jonathon Smith that easily."
"We can give you back your memories but you will retain the memories of the last six years of your life," she screamed at him, balling her fists. She was intent on getting through to him.
He was gesturing wildly at her but paused at her last sentence. "So...will I be Harry Potter with Jonathon Smith's memories or Jonathon Smith with Harry Potter's memories?"
"I'm not sure," she responded honestly. "But either way you will be accepted into the wizarding world with open arms."
He pondered over the situation again, traipsing wordlessly to the wall of trees in deep thought. She watched him fixedly for a few moments before collapsing into a sitting position on the grass. She drew her knees up to her chest, leaning her forehead against them. It waited nearly twenty minutes before she felt his presence looming over her. She peered up at him. His question, she knew, was the beginning of many problems but also could be the solution to her own life.
"So where do we go now?"
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Please tell me what you think so far of this wild story. Things might seem a tad rushed but I didn't want to get bogged down going through everything we already know.
Thanks again for reading. Review if you can
Take care
Radagast