Viva La Vida
About: This fic was inspired by Coldplay's "Viva La Vida" AKA "That Was When I Ruled the World." Listening to the song, I imagined a world that Lord Voldemort ruled that Harry Potter destroyed. Chapter titles will all be taken from lyrics of this song (though most out of context extremely).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any characters or quotes that you recognize do not belong to me.
Chapter 1: Saint Peter Won't Call My Name
"This is insane," Hermione growled, unpacking Harry's trunk at the same rate he was trying to pack it. "Worse than that Gringotts plan we had at 17. Worse than that business venture you tried with Zabini 15 years ago." By now, Harry was pretty sure that Hermione was only muttering to herself, not him. She continued to unpack his trunk and had everything except his socks and underwear out now, which she looked hesitant to touch. Harry thought that odd, considering that Hermione was a great-grandparent now, and often had to touch other people's underwear because of cleaning, laundry, or a messy child. It brought a smile to his face as he grabbed Hermione's hands and held them in his until her laugh-lined eyes found his forever-seventeen eyes. She wasn't laughing right now, just the opposite in fact.
"Hermione, I've thought about this for a long time," he tucked a strand of her now silver hair behind her ear. "I've prepared as best as a can, but you know me - something is bound to go wrong." At Hermione's inhale of breathe, which Harry knew heralded another long thought-out and logical argument, Harry quickly continued so as to cut her off. "But you know me, Hermione. I'm Harry Potter and I always surprise and come out on top." His face twisted into a sad smile.
"But what about us? Won't you miss us?" She tried again, feeling terribly selfish.
"Without a doubt. More than you can ever imagine," Harry explained softly. "But this is something I need to do. You and Ron are like family to me, but you're not getting any younger and I'm not getting any older. Don't you understand?" he asked, hugging her tightly. "I want to remember you and Ron like this - happy and full of life. I don't want to only be able to think about your funeral when I think of you or to see you waste away slowly and in pain. Yes, it will hurt a lot at first. But..." he paused, hugging her tighter and unable to come up with the right words.
"I understand, Harry. And I understand that you've been feeling lost lately. I understand," She repeated.
Nothing was said for a long minute. They just stood there in each other's arms taking comfort in the shared warmth before moving apart.
"What about Ron?" she asked.
"Who do you think helped me plan this?"
"You got Ron to help you with the research?" she asked with a quizzical brow. "Now I know something will go wrong."
Harry laughed. "Come on Hermione, what kind of idiot do you take me for? I did the magical research myself." And Harry really was long past his Hogwarts days of being dependent on Hermione to do all the research before jumping in. He gained that from when he decided to pursue curse-breaking as a profession. This was a little after he tired of being an Auror, which is where he gained some pretty impressive defensive skills, specifically with a knife. He also had a short stint as a quidditch player - he gained corrected eyesight from that (or does that count as losing something ? (his glasses)).
Harry continued, "Ron helped me plan how I'm going to make my departure public to the masses. We don't want everyone trying to try to jump dimensions. As far as they know, I've taken to a mountain to live out my days in peace and tranquility. He has also helped me plan what I need to do politically when I get there and he has helped me lay down the plan on how to woo him."
"Yes...woo him," Hermione hummed skeptically. "How do you even know your into...well...that!?"
A valid question since Harry had never officially dated anyone since Ginny (which ended when it became obvious that Harry was not aging). Hermione knew there were lovers, but good warding had kept her from ever...stumbling upon them.
"Come on Hermione. I'm a 100-year-old with the libido and body of a 17-year-old. I never told you why my business venture in Italy with Blaise went so poorly 15 years ago, but it was because we were too busy shagging like rabbits for that entire six months."
"Harry!" gasped a blushing Hermione.
"That man aged well, let me tell you! And remember those rumors about Astoria catching Draco in bed with a man?"
"Don't say another word, Harry Potter, or I swear you won't be able to lift my silencing charm for a week! I don't want to hear another story. I believe you whole-heartedly. "
Harry couldn't keep the sly smile from his face. He loved that he could still fluster someone he had known for nearly 90 years. That deviousness he had gained (or more like reinforced) from a rather long career in wizarding politics. Well, that and his interest in males of the Slytherin variety. This career began right after Harry "died" for the first time since the final battle. Harry had been working as a dragon tamer (this was shortly after the whole quidditch phase) from which he only gained one huge tattoo from a drunken night out and mental scars he still has nightmares about after he was eaten by a dragon while on the job and spent three days working through the digestive tract before...well..yeah.. ploh, plop! The only other career Harry can claim is a single year as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher where he gained the mighty power of patience.
"But him, Harry? Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"
"I've done my research. This Tom Riddle is barely homicidal. He has kept his sanity, his looks, " Harry waggled his eyebrows at Hermione which made her laugh, "and he is the bloody Minister of Magic for Merlin's sake. Sure, he's still extremely racist," Harry said quickly, trying to downsize this characteristic. "But did I mention he is also immortal, just like a certain someone. He's not perfect, but I think I can make it work."
"Okay," was Hermione's simple reply. But then she started to unpack again.
"Hermione!" Harry squawked. "I thought you were alright with this!"
"I am Harry," she agreed but held up a pair of his underwear that she was unpacking. It was faded and the elastic was wearing out. Harry blushed. "But these are not the clothes you need in order to get someone to come on a second date with you. I knew you and Ron would forget something. Come on, we need to go shopping."
A/N: For those of you worried about me updating my other fic I currently have going right now: Blood and Each Other, with a new story starting now, don't worry. Half of this story was written about a year ago and I will only update once a week so I can keep up my writing schedule.