If she was honest, this wasn't what Harriet thought was going to happen today. Her plans had been fairly simple actually, Teddy and Victoire's anniversary was next week and so her only solid activity for the day was to apply the usual rigorous glamours she had employed in public for the last 20 years, and go shopping for a present.
It wasn't Samhain, so in theory there wouldn't have been any catastrophic or vaguely worrying happenstance.
It wasn't nearing the end of a Hogwarts school year, and therefore none of the extended list of nephews and nieces were due for an exceptionally lucky escape from something that shouldn't be happening school grounds. (Minerva still swears blind that only her and Teddy had welcomed those occurances during their schooling, but she refused to believe it)
And finally, she no longer worked for the Auror department, so (again, in theory) there wouldn't have been any chance to be caught in any dangerous criminal shenanigans. Glamours or not.
Of course, life doesn't work that way for Harriet Potter. Never had. And so it was by a stroke of horribly bad luck that the moment she stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron, an escaping thug she vaguely remembered seeing in the 'wanted for questioning' information from a few years ago, ran directly into her.
Obviously, because the Potter luck was a notorious bitch, the (possibly cursed) knife he'd been holding (likely why he was being chased) also ran into her, straight through her actually. And, as that seemed not to have been enough for fate, he immediately staggered backwards upon realising what had happened, grip on the knife tighter in his shock, and pulled it along with him.
Now... don't know if everyone is aware, but when you are stabbed (cursed knife or not, seriously that thing ran her through like she hadn't even existed), removing the pointy object stopping you from bleeding out is a terrible idea.
Which is why, to the dawning horror of the knife weilder himself, the patrons behind her, the entire alley, and the swarm of red clad Aurors frozen in the street, Harriet Potter found herself collapsing to the cobbled floor gushing blood from both sides at an incredibly expedient rate (ok, definitive on the curse, who made that thing a vampire???) And fading fast.
It wasnt until the glamours flickered away from her quickly waning magic and darkness overtook her eyes that she heard the screams, and it was shortly after that, completely innefective healing spells bouncing off of her, that Harriet took her last breath and surrendered herself to the void.
...Only to immediately wake up somewhere unfortunately familiar with a moue of distaste and the weary acceptance of one with more knowledge on the situation than she probably should have ever had.
Standing, and dusting off her unfortunately destroyed set of robes (not that she'd need them anymore) and glancing around the blindingly white imitation of Kings Cross station wondering not for the first time who would be the one to appear this time. Dumbledore really must have moved on by now. Seriously he should have better things to do than act all high and mighty and all knowing wherever dead people that don't go ghost move onto.
"As amusing as that is, you are marginally incorrect young Peverell. Albus Dumbledore has indeed been reborn in another time and place, but his attitude has changed very little regardless" blinking in surprise, she turned to look at the unassuming woman that had materialised beside her, unable to contain the snort of mixed annoyance and amusement. Responding wryly.
"That unfortunately doesn't surprise me in the least, but at least it isn't my life he's sticking his nose in anymore" the amused and knowing look Harriet recieved in return was... disheartening to put it lightly. Steadfastly deciding not to think about it, she sighed. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?" A grin formed on the womans face, one that Harriet wasn't sure was unnerving or not due to the sheer normality of it, like someone had taken all the most common features of a human being and just... merged them? simplified them? Not quite creepy doll territory but definitely approaching the uncanny valley of symmetrical blandness. The kind of person Aunt Petunia would have seen as a perfect person to approach. Horribly disconcerting.
The woman merely smiled in that absent way housewives did when they knew their conversation partner wasn't nearly equipped to understand what they were insinuating, gesturing to the side of the platform she previously hadnt noticed with a hand curiously holding a small pair of sewing shears that gave Harriet the weirdest ominous familiar feeling that she reeally didn't want to delve too far into. After waiting a few moments, womans arm still raised in that direction and neither saying anything, she sighed, simply turning fully to the door at last. After all, she was dead, it's not like every time this happened she was likely to get a free pass or a choice, this time it seemed was far more permenant.
If she had been more curious, or even listening more carefully before opening the door, she may have noticed that arm moving towards her, and the quiet snikt as something was cut behind her like an errant thread as a far more disconcerting and triumphant grin was aimed at her back, before the woman picked up a thin cord of green and followed her through the door silently. The door itself clicking softly closed behind them.
---
The other side of the door was... not what she'd been expecting. Gazing around the room and taking in what seemd to be thousands if not many more tapestries and materials of all different shapes sizes... textures? ...was that heartstring sat next to a bowl of fluffy pink wool?
At the centre of the room were two more women, almost exactly identical to the first save for the objets they were accompanied with. An oddly shaped rod that appeared to be being used as a measuring stick with such an aura of power emanating from it that Harriet nearly staggered, a spindle that seemed as old as time itself, and between them a bare loom that felt for all the world like her mind was being drawn towards it, even to the point of unconsciously taking half a step forward before a hand was placed on her shoulder and Harriet found herself sat on the edge of a soft bed, the woman from before going to join her... sisters? Handing over another green thread of some sort to the woman with the rod before suddenly starting a threeway conversation in a language she felt she probably should have recognised but never learnt.
It was an odd thing to witness, even after being stabbed by a magical knife in the middle of a wizarding community known for the weirdest of occurances, and though Harriet may normally want to interrupt, or perhaps even make some sort of noise to force them to acknowledge her again and maybe answer some questions, she just couldn't seem to feel the need to? Like as soon as she touched the bed her body became lethergic and weighty, Slumping further and further until she was laying sideways, sleepily watching as a pile of threads of all sorts of colours and thicknesses were measured and cut, before passed over and intertwined with one another on the spindle.
By the time her eyes were drifting shut once more, leaving this world behind, an odd tapestry of flames had started to form, the materials changing colours as they were incorporated, shimmering in and out of different spectrums.
"Sleep well young Peverell... finish weaving an interesting story for us"
And Harriet Potter once again lost her battle with conciousness, dreaming of the everyday life of a little Japanese boy with blond hair and a loving but spacey mother in a quiet little Japanese town that seemed much more interesting than it appeared, ang an absent father he didn't even know returning home with a man that made her uncomfortable... for the next 5 years.
YOU ARE READING
A Life by Any Other Name
FanfictionSomehow, this was both exactly what she'd expected, and entirely different all at once. Turns out that dying a third time wasn't (...well, not quite anyway) the charm. (A -Harriet Potter gets sent to different timelines and universes for the fates a...