Gotta Be Somebody
Echo of a Memory
Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling
Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer
Chapter 1: Cry of a Broken Heart
This time, I wonder what it feels like
To find the one in this life, the one we all dream of
But dreams just aren't enough
So I'll be waiting for the real thing, I'll know it by the feeling
The moment when we're meeting, will play out like a scene
Straight off the silver screen
So I'll be holding my own breath, right up 'til the end
Until that moment when, I find the one that I'll spend forever with
Cause nobody wants to be the last one there
And everyone wants to feel like someone cares
Someone to love with my life in their hands
There's gotta be somebody for me like that
Cause nobody wants to do it on their own
And everyone wants to know they're not alone
There's somebody else that feels the same somewhere
There's gotta be somebody for me out there…
-Gotta Be Somebody by Nickelback-
Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to. At least not in the way Dumbledore had pitched the scenario, how he had planned for their attack against the Deatheaters and Voldemort. Everything seemed to work perfectly and then it went straight to hell.
It was supposed to be a surprise attack. It was a way to give a blow to the darker forces and thus give them the advantage and pave the way to victory. However, there were certain scenarios they didn't take into account.
The Dark Lord had more recruits and greater numbers than the headmaster had reported. They were also outfitted with better equipment, trained better, and more than willing to kill.
Even with the disadvantage, the Light side had tactics and experience on their side. And for the most part, they fared well. Having had the plan drilled in their heads before hand, they fought as one and followed it to perfection.
Of course they fought on when things took a turn for the worst. After all, they had Dumbledore's plan and the Boy-Who-Lived on their side. And because they followed the man blindly, it had cost them dearly.
Dull, emerald eyes watched disinterestedly as the clouds swept by the small port window. It had been a long ride and he still had a while before he reached his destination. Not that he couldn't have been reached it easily by magical means, but at the moment he just didn't feel like it.
He didn't feel like much of anything these days anyways. Everything just seemed to pass him by in daze. Well not everything, at least his self preservation instincts were still very much intact and functioning. The fact that he had summoned enough consciousness to arrange for this getaway said that much. Still, even this far from Britain didn't help keep away the ghosts that haunted him.
They had been blindsided by a flank attack. The frontlines were manned by the Inner Circle causing most of the Order's focus to be put there. However, they should have been on the look out for the most formidable, and dangerous foe. He seemed to be absent from the field that day, some had wondered where he could be.
They were gone. All of them.
And then he struck. It was without warning and on their weak side, which was the side that the DA had been manning. Screams of pain, horror, and torture, ripped through the battlefield. And then the explosions began.
And he was tired. So very tired of it all.
Dust and smoke filled the air, obscuring the field around him. The very air burned his lungs and made his eyes water.
He had tried so hard. He'd bled, sweat, been tortured and for what?
The smoking ground was littered with ashes, bodies, rubble, fires, and death. The only sound that heard was the crackling of the flames and his breathing.
In the end he hadn't been able to protect any of them.
Hands, slick with his blood, grasped onto the holly wand shaking slightly from exhaustion. A small rivulet streamed down the tip and dripped on the ground.
He couldn't save them.
Green, unseeing eyes took in the field blankly. The devastated grounds were stained red.
Harry tucked his head into the small pillow, provided for such long flights, and tried to doze off. After fighting for so long and being the victim of so many circumstances, he'd developed into an extremely light sleeper.
He took a shaky step as he staggered forward. His foot slid out from under him as soon as it came down. He grunted when he met the ground with a dull thud.
And he had nightmares. Perhaps this new beginning would help him heal, if only a little.
With a painful exhausted groan, he pushed himself upright. Coming out of the daze, Harry looked around to see what he slipped on and froze in horror.
Trying to get comfortable, he squirmed in his seat a bit before giving up. He'd never be able to sleep here.
Half of a torso lay mutilated in front of him, the intestines and organs splattered every which way. Shakily he glanced down towards his legs and almost gagged.
Who was he kidding? He just wanted to get away from it all.
Long, white, stringy intestines wrapped around ankle, juices soaking into his already filthy clothing. Parts of it were smashed and squished into the ground where he'd slipped.
It had all seemed like a dream come true. He'd been rescued from the horrible drudgery that were his relatives and sent to live in a magical place where the fantastic was everyday life.
Harry scrambled backwards, beyond disgusted and frightened. Turning to retch he came face to face with the torso's mutilated head. He screamed.
He'd made friends, learned magic, and found family. He was somebody to someone and his life mattered. He could be a child for a little while and not have to worry about having to do chores or running from Dudley.
And then he was introduced to the ugly side of that world. All of his wonder and awe, naïveté and enthusiasm were shattered as he learned the horrible truth. But that paled in comparison as to the expectations placed on his shoulders. Somehow he was expected to fight evil and triumph.
Or die in the process. Either way was acceptable for the Wizarding World.
The seat belt sign chimed pulling the depressed teen from his spiraling thoughts. They would be landing soon and he would be that much closer to his destination. A place that was out of the way and somewhere no one would ever think to come looking for him.
Tiredly the teen peaked out the window. It was dark out and he could barely make out the runway lights through the fog.
San Francisco International Airport.
He'd wondered what it would look like. Getting a quick description from a traveling business man when he'd been waiting at Heathrow wasn't that informative.
Harry sighed inaudibly as the jet engines roared signaling that they were coming in for a landing. He was scheduled for a short layover before catching the next flight up to Seattle. From there he would rent a car and head down into a small, obscure community some hours away and look for a place to retire.
Choosing Forks, of all places, had actually been hard. He could have gone anywhere. If he was trying to lay low, he could chosen to stay in one of the larger cities and become another anonymous face in the crowd. However, after all his time at Hogwarts and Little Whinging, he learned that he didn't want to be around a populace that was larger than three digits.
Coming across Forks in his research was by chance, pure and simple. From everything he was able to find, which wasn't much, it sounded like a place that would suit his needs. He wasn't completely sold on community though. He definitely would need to scout out the town and surrounding areas first.
If he ever did feel the need to be amongst civilization again, Seattle was a drive away and that was somewhat comforting. One major selling point, though, was that there were no known magical being, creatures or otherwise within the major area. Seattle had a small community, but it was mostly deemed as Goth territory and the like. It was nothing that was taken seriously by anyone, especially, European wizards who would scoff and mostly likely label them backwater hicks.
Most of America's magical communities were centered on the east coast and a few down south in the major cities in California. As much as he could determine, this was pretty much magically blind country and something of a frontier. The most supernatural he would probably find would be the odd Bigfoot or a lake monster and chances of running into either of those were slim at best. And it was also perfect for, say, a wizard trying to hide and not want their magical signature found out or tracked. And if something did happen, he could slip away into the forest and head for the mountains.
What drew him most was the small town idea of living and the isolation the location provided. It seemed an ideal existence and peaceful. Something he desperately wanted.
The bump of the wheels making contact with the runway let him know they had touched down and the sudden pull forward signaled that they were slowing. Harry stuffed the pillow beside him and waited for the flight attendants to give the passengers the signal.
He almost made it. Just a few more hours of travel and he'd be there.
With a sigh, the raven haired teen ran a tired hand through his shaggy locks, grimacing at the oily feel. Just another reminder of someone lost to him. He shoved the thoughts away. Hopefully he'd be able to get to a hotel soon and shower.
Then maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to keep his nightmares at bay for one night.
A/N: Wells, here goes then. Just another one of your standard Harry Potter/Twilight Crossovers…then again maybe not (*grins maniacally*). I mean, I think this might be something completely from left field. Oh, the surprises ahead (*rubs hands gleefully*).