FicWad

Disclaimer/Author's note: My first (and likely only) fanfic, reviews would be appreciated.
I own nothing, JK Rowling owns almost everything, but credit also needs to be given to Neil Gaiman's amazing book American Gods.



Eyes the color of emeralds stared at the white tomb blankly, without so much as a flicker of recognition, set within a face utterly devoid of emotion. While Hermione and Ron stood shoulder to shoulder about 10 feet behind him, silently waiting for their friend, Harry continued to gaze at the tomb of Albus Dumbledore, without any recognition on his face, just as he had been doing for the last two hours.
Harry had been in this same spot, just a few feet from the shoreline of the lake and off to the left of where the chairs had been placed, when the other mourners began filing towards their seats for the service. He had listened to the tearful farewells, the warm memories, the promises to carry on bravely, without one time displaying any sign that he heard a single word spoken. He watched the tomb rise to cover the remains of the wizard who, all assembled agreed, had fallen in the battle against darkness, another sacrifice to the terror attacking them all. The Boy Who Lived acknowledged none of the words or actions from the well-wishers that filed past him, remaining still and silent through the gentle squeezes of his shoulder, whispers of “We’ll carry on, just as he would have wanted us to”, and tearful hugs. Ron and Hermione had taken their chairs before the service, but they heard none of it. Both were only able to watch Harry, and ache so deeply for the friend frozen before them. After the service had ended, and all the other mourners had left, they waited, not speaking, barely breathing, knowing that when he was ready, he would speak. Knowing that when he spoke, they would be there, as they had been so many times before. They were not, however, ready for the words hoarsely whispered through cracked lips when they finally came, words that came from a level of despair neither had ever heard before, and hoped never to hear again.
“That bastard’s dead, and before he died, he told us basically nothing. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

Minerva McGonagall watched the three friends hold each other tightly from her vantage point in the headmaster’s office, and sighed. Like Hermione and Ron, her attention during the funeral had not been on the one who was gone, but the one who had been left behind. Afterwards, she had been one with a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, but she had made certain his compatriots were with him, before she had retreated to her office. Immediately upon her ascension to the post of headmistress, she had decided that in her time, there would be some changes made. That Harry was done trying to face an unspeakable evil and uncertain-at-best future alone, had been very high on that list of changes. Minerva McGonagall was pleased to see that Harry’s friends had apparently made the same decision.
After seeing the three begin to slowly make their way back to Hogwart’s Castle shoulder to shoulder, the school’s headmistress settled into the chair at her desk, and spoke to the newest portrait on the wall, while staring straight ahead at the door.
“Albus, your political machinations, combined with your supreme overconfidence that you and only you knew what had to be done in order to accomplish “The Greater Good”, has provided us two results in the battle against the Dark Lord. One, you are now dead, and useless in the battle to come. Two, that boy out there on the lawn is criminally unprepared for that same battle. We have failed him and his friends miserably, Albus, all because I and others listened to you while you assured us that you knew what you doing. Now that you are dead, may I assume that your confidence had been somewhat misplaced?” McGonagall felt, rather than saw the slumping of shoulders, as the portrait of Albus Dumbledore was forced to face a hard truth.
“I have determined that the boy has been tormented enough. He may not survive this war, Albus, but I’m not going to allow him to be the sacrificial lamb you apparently had marked him for. Harry Potter shall not go gently into that good night, Professor Dumbledore. Should he fall, it will be gloriously, and if I have any say in his future, the name of Harry Potter will be revered after this war, no matter his fate. We owe him that, and so much more already. “
“We played your game your way, Albus. It has led us very nearly to ruin already, and darker days are still to come. You have proven to me that you were a puppet master who had tangled the strings so badly, that the puppet had become unable to move. I am cutting those strings Albus, and your puppet will choose his own way. Unlike you, I have faith that this young hero will choose wisely, and bravely. Such traits do, after all, run in his family”
Minerva McGonagall then began to scratch a brief note, and after sending it on its’ way, waited patiently at her desk, refusing to acknowledge the portrait above her head, as Albus Dumbledore wept silently.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had barely passed the castle doors, when Professor Flitwick met them, somberly bowing, and then handing Harry the parchment. Harry stared at the professor, and asked him: “What’s this about already?”
“I’m sure I don’t know Mr. Potter, the note was, after all, addressed to you.”
Harry grumbled under his breath, read the note, and then looked at his friends.
“She wants to see all three of us, with our trunks, in 15 minutes. I don’t know what we did, but apparently this is it. One thing I don’t understand, though. She says the password is ‘Remember Bonnie Prince Charlie, and the ’45.’ What the bloody Hell does that mean?”
Hermione looked at her dumbfounded friends, and grinned.
“It means we aren’t getting expelled, and Professor McGonagall, bless her Scottish blood, is ready to fight. Let’s get packed, and see what she has in mind.”

The three stumbled into the office, not sure what to expect, and harry spoke for all three, as they nervously stood before the headmistress.
“Professor? May we ask why we’re here, and with our trunks packed? And why you chose that password?”
McGonagall smiled serenely.
“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasely, thank you for your prompt attention to my request. First, the password has changed because I felt the time for lemon drops and treacle tarts has passed, and the time to recall what it means to take bold action is upon us. The Jacobite rebellion may not have been successful, but it certainly did not lack for the courage of its; convictions. I felt that in my time as headmistress, we would do well to recall such courage. This also leads to why you are here, in your current state.”
“Children,” McGonagall’s smile faded, and a look of worry overcame her face “A grave disservice has been done to all of Wizarding Britain I feel, but the greatest crime has been against the three of you and Mister Potter worst of all. We have known this war was coming for many years. I and my fellow teachers, along with the Order of the Phoenix allowed this war to progress without attending to the needs of our greatest hope, and his greatest allies. We have wronged you by allowing ourselves to be blindly led by Albus Dumbledore, and if we had misgivings, we ignored them in the face of Professor Dumbledore’s bland assurances that he had the situation in hand. Obviously, he was in error, and I ask your forgiveness.” She smiled softly as the three friends tried to be reassuring, and couldn’t quite make their protestations sound convincing.
“You are here on short notice because my time as headmistress will be extremely brief. Professor Dumbledore allowed the board of Hogwarts to be seated with many who are known to favor the Dark Lord. He left them there, thinking he could control them, and in life, he may have. Now, however, whatever constraints he had on these board members has been loosed, and I suspect that I shall be the shortest tenured head of Hogwarts in its’ history. Knowing that my influence is to be so brief, I took some liberties on your behalf, in an effort to correct the injustices of the past, in hopes you realize that I am not directing your actions, but instead attempting to give you an opportunity to succeed, an opportunity I have decided had been to this point, denied you and your friends, Harry.” She smiled again, a hint of sadness in this one, before she began to once again speak of the business at hand.
“Misters Potter and Weasely, Miss Granger, I have taken the liberty of speaking to some… colleagues in America. Through their good graces, I have secured an offer for asylum for the three of you and your families, as well as any five friends of your choosing, along with their families. Additionally, these colleagues have generously offered to arrange for your continued schooling, with an eye towards the fight yet to come. I have been assured that if you choose to accept this offer, you will enjoy all the hospitality our American cousins can provide, as well as an opportunity to prepare yourselves to the best of their abilities and your desires, for the tests you will face. Understand, this is an offer, not an expectation. The three of you are free to accept this offer or not, and I will not think good or ill towards any of you, whatever you decide. This is simply put, the best I can do for you, in the time I have to be of direct help to you, and I hope you will choose to avail yourselves of the American’s kind offer. Now, what say you?”
Ron spoke first. “What about my family? Dad works for the Ministry, how can he…?” McGonagall cut him off with a smile.
Mister Weasely, as we speak, your entire family is en route to the Magical Capital of America, as your father has found himself, rather surprisingly, attached to their Department of Magic. It seems his expertise in muggle artifacts has drawn interest, and his opinions are being sought. Your mother, twin brothers and sister are along with him, your brothers Bill and Percy having chosen to stay at their positions.”
“Miss Granger, your parents are currently at a Dental College in the American Midwest, where they have accepted fellowships to teach, while learning new surgical techniques. Both families, I am assured, are being subtly watched over, by very serious witches and wizards. Both families are also unaware of the care being taken over them. Any other questions?” McGonagall looked at her hourglass meaningfully. “Because if not, decisions must be made, and quickly, please.”
Harry looked at his friends, questioningly, and received two “Whatever you decide” shrugs in return. He thought carefully for a moment, then looked at the headmistress.
“We’d like to take Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, and Hannah Abbot as well, please. “
“Excellent choices, Mister Potter, I shall send for them immediately.”

When the eight were gathered in the office, Harry spoke quickly and without preamble. “You five are here because we’ve been given the chance to get ready for the fight that’s coming in a safe place. I have reasons for asking all of you to join us, and I hope you will. I wish I could tell you more, but the fact is, the professor here has made it clear that time is of the essence, so all I can do is ask you to trust me, and come along, knowing your families will also be given the chance to be clear of the war. What do you say?”
Greengrass spoke first. “Potter, you are quite mad, you know that? This is quite possibly the most insane thing you’ve done to date. If it weren’t for the fact my father is currently in negotiations with an 86 year old Romanian Baron for my hand in marriage, I would reject you out of hand. As it is,” And here, her expression held some desperate hope “Does this mean I can get out of an arranged marriage to a wizard that smells like rotting venison?”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Done, Daphne. Consider yourself freed from familial responsibilities while you help save the world. Anyone else?”
Neville shrugged. “Longbottoms stand beside Potters, Harry. It’s how it’s always been. Gram would have my head if I didn’t say yes.
“Thanks, Nev. Susan? Hannah?” The girls both smiled, and Hannah spoke for both of them.
“Sounds like an adventure. Thanks for the invitation, and this should prove interesting.”
That left Luna, and Harry, Ron and Hermione all just looked at her. Luna looked back with a dreamy smile, and said “I’ve always wanted to see America, Harry. When do we leave?”
Harry just shook his head, aware by now that Luna was frequently more aware than she let on. “Right now. Professor McGonagall has the portkey ready, we just need to leave. Everyone ready?” Seven heads nodded, while grabbing the rope held out to them. The headmistress smiled softly, and said “Good luck, children. I hope to see you when this over, when we toast each other, as equals.” With that, she touched her wand to the portkey, and all eight felt the now-familiar jerking, as they disappeared.
Minerva McGonagall had barely seated herself back at her desk when the face of Lucius Malfoy appeared in her fireplace. Informing her that the Hogwarts board was in session, he suggested with a sneer that her presence would be appreciated, as quickly as was convenient for her. With a sigh, she looked around at the office that had been hers for less than 48 hours, then set her shoulders, and stepped into the floo, secure in the knowledge that while her tenure might have been over almost before it had started, she had accomplished good.
That, to Minerva McGonagall, was enough. She went to her professional doom with a clear conscience, and strangely enough, hope.

With a pop, the eight teenagers landed in a strange land, with a sheer red sandstone face against them on one side, and dusty scrub before them. Wands came out seemingly of their own accord, as eight sets of eyes surveyed the landscape before them. Ron saw them first, and whispered fiercely.
“Harry, two men over there! Everyone behind their trunks, and be ready!”
The students all went to one knee, using their school trunks as cover, while the men slowly walked towards them, hands out from their sides, and empty. None of the students had ever seen anyone dressed like them before, and Hermione couldn’t help but ask, “Harry? Are they wearing muggle suits and cowboy hats? With wand holsters at their hips?”
“Looks like it, Hermione. I don’t understand, either, guess we just wait, and see what they have to say. While we get ready to hex the smiles off their faces.”
The two men continued to walk towards the nervous group, until they were about 20 feet away. Still holding empty hands out from their sides, the dark haired one with the mustache called out.
“Mister Potter? May we correctly assume this is your group?”
Harry sighed, and stood up, wand at the ready. “I’m Harry Potter. And you have the advantage of me gentlemen. “
The dark haired man continued to smile. “We’ve been detailed here, and told to expect you. We’re going to reach for our coats, slowly. We would appreciate it if you didn’t jinx us.”
“If I see a wand come out, we’re all letting you both have it.”
“Understood.” The dark haired man looked to the shorter man with the sandy blonde hair, and nodded. They both carefully reached to the right lapels of their grey woolen suit coats, and pulled them aside, revealing the metal stars pinned to their vests. The dark haired man spoke again.
“Mister Potter, I am Marshall Earp, and this is Marshall Bonney. “ He nodded to the shorter man. “On behalf of the Magic Marshall’s Service, Department of Magic, and Government of the United States of America, we would like to accept your request for political asylum. Welcome to Colorado.”
The group all stared at the strange men, except Hermione who was saying over and over, “Earp? Bonney? Where do I know those names?” Suddenly, realization dawned on her face, and she squeaked out, just before she fainted: “Oh, sweet Maeve, we’ve been met by Wyatt Earp, and Billy the Kid!”
Harry, Ron, and the rest of the group stared at Hermione’s crumpled form, then back at the two Marshalls, who had cracked up laughing.
“Told ya, Billy, they know who you are, even in England!”