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SIYE Time:12:53 on 29th March 2024
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Fighting Fate
By Fey Falyyn

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 59
Summary: Sequel to Fighting Harry. Fourteen years have passed since Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, and his life is perfect in almost every way. He went on to marry the witch of his dream, become the youngest-ever Head of International Auror affairs, and even have a son who loves flying as much as he does. There's just one problem. And her name is Meridy.
Hitcount: Story Total: 42245; Chapter Total: 3576





Author's Notes:
I hope you enjoy! Sorry it's so short...longer update tomorrow or the next day. But probably tomorrow.




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Ginny watched her husband pace with half-exasperation, and half-amusement.

“For Merlin’s sake, Harry, if you want to know what House she’s in, just owl her,” she told him.

Her hero refused to look at her. “It’ll look suspicious if an orphan receives mail from her dad,” he said testily. “She doesn’t want a father; she won’t get a father. I wouldn’t be surprised if she got Sorted into Slytherin.”

“Harry Potter,” his wife said, in an extremely dangerous sort of voice. “Take it back, or you’ll have bat bogeys hanging from your eyebrows. Our daughter is not in Slytherin. She’s just confused right now. She does want a father…she’s just frustrated by all of the thrice-cursed reporters who keep asking her why she isn’t more like you. Did you ever enjoy being compared to James?”

“Yes,” Harry said heatedly. “I was happy that people thought I was like him.”

“She’s not you,” Ginny said simply. “And imagine if people had constantly shoved it in your face that James was better looking…a hero…a better flyer…and it was so unfortunate that you hadn’t inherited his talent.”

“People don’t say that about Meridy!” Harry said, somewhat angry at the prospect.

Ginny frowned. She pulled a paper out of a drawer. “Look at this article. It came out a month ago, in that economic magazine she reads for some reason.”

Harry took it, and scanned it.

“They didn’t say anything so bad,” he said, after a few minutes. “Only that she was solemn, and spent more time talking to the tradesmen than the press.”

“For which they called her standoffish,” Ginny said, pointing down the paper. “And when they were describing each of us, you were ‘our charismatically handsome hero,’ and Michael was ‘adorable…and so bright!’ They called me the ‘lovely lady at Harry Potter’s right hand.’ What did Meridy get? ‘A strange-looking girl…solemn…and oddly standoffish.’ How do you think that made her feel? To have proclaimed to the entire world that…who wrote this? Ah, Jacie Kilborn…that Jacie Kilborn thinks she’s odd.”

“Well, if she made more of an effort to talk to the press…” Harry began.

Ginny cut him off with a frustrated sigh. “Harry, she doesn’t like attention! She’s camera-shy. She hides it well, but she is. And all of the comments over the years have made her extra-sensitive, and self-conscious. Don’t be hurt because she was excited about getting away from people like Jacie Kilborn and Rita Skeeter, who, I’ll have you know, called Meridy ‘a rude, bothersome little girl…not at all resembling her attractive parents,’ after Mer asked her if she always fabricated her articles, or if she only did so when the subject at hand wasn’t sufficiently villainous. Rita would have said worse, but Hermione was with us that day.”

Harry laughed, and then looked guilty. “That’s just like Meridy. What did Rita do to invoke her wrath?”

“Asked her how it felt to be the black sheep of Harry Potter’s perfect family,” Ginny said glumly. “I wasn’t there, and Hermione was out of earshot, but Michael told me a few days later. You were in Romania for a meeting by that time, and when you got back, the Hogwarts letter had come. But Michael said Mer shot back something about fabric. By that time, though, Hermione had walked over, seeing sparks, and she told me what Meridy said.”

Her husband’s green eyes flashed. “Rita Skeeter–”

“Is a perfect old cow,” Ginny supplied, calmly. “I know. I was going to tell you when you got back, but the Hogwarts letter came, and in the ensuing chaos, it slipped my mind. But don’t you think you can cut Mer a little slack? She doesn’t think she fits into our family.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but his the tight muscle in his jaw had relaxed considerably. His eyes were still angry, but at the moment, Ginny suspected it was more for Rita Skeeter than for Meridy.

“I’ll just floo McGonagall sometime,” he said, distinctly, instead of answering.

She shook her head as he went clattering up the stairs.

He really was hopeless sometimes.


* * * *


The next morning came too early, even for Meridy. She suspected that all of the excitement the day before had made her extra-tired, and that she would adjust to the new schedule better tomorrow. Still, she woke happy and exhilarated about learning magic.

Her dorm mates were not so optimistic. “It’s too early!” Alyssa moaned.

Meridy shook her head, and went to take a shower.

Breakfast was fantastic. There was every kind of breakfast food she could want, and so she ate a little bit of everything. It was all delicious.

“Close your awe-fallen mouth, first year” the Prefect Kyle teased, evidently in a better mood this morning. “I told you the food is excellent. Maybe you’ll believe me next time.”

Meridy was almost offended, but thought better of it. She nodded, but Kyle had gone back to conversing with his sixth year friends. Now that she thought about it, he was the fourth upperclassmen who had spoken to her in less than twenty-four hours.

“I thought the older classes were supposed to ignore first years, except to try and trip them up,” she muttered.

Sandy had heard her, sitting across the table. Apparently being an upperclassman gave her supersonic hearing, and the ability to participate in two conversations at once.

“That’s the way it used to be, yes,” she said. “And the way it still is, to a point. But last September four first years transferred to other schools because a group of troublemakers scared them off. So this year McGonagall told the prefects not to isolate the first years, and to make more of an effort to make you all feel welcome, and to look after you, so you’re not caught alone and intimidated by bullies.”

Meridy was distinctly annoyed to hear that. What kind of sick person got pleasure from tormenting kids? She didn’t care that Kyle and Angelica probably only talked to her because of something McGonagall had said. It was still nice of them to comply, and if she was old and smart, she probably would rather talk to her year-mates than stupid little firsties, too. But something was bothering her.

“You’re not a prefect,” she pointed out, to Sandy.

The older girl shrugged. “Last year was really stupid. There were a bunch of Slytherins who would literally wait around and terrorize young Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. And they were never caught.”

“Did any Gryffindors leave because of it?” Meridy wanted to know. She would never give in to that kind of pressure.

Sandy smiled, grimly. “No.”

After a moment, she said, “But I don’t mean to scare you. I probably would have talked to you anyway, besides all that. You remind me of my little sister. She’s way too bright for her own good, too. And you have a strong magical aura, did you know?”

Meridy frowned. “No, I don’t,” she replied. Her mum or dad would have told her, if she did. And weren’t people with strong magical auras supposed to be very powerful? She just wasn’t. Her dad was, and her mum was pretty strong too, but she didn’t take after them. Hadn’t it been said, over and over and over?

Furthermore…her parents didn’t have strong magical auras, did they? She’d know if they did…wouldn’t she? How could you tell? She had noticed that the atmosphere was different around Mum and Dad than it was with most other people. But wasn’t the atmosphere around your parents supposed to be different?

Sandy gave her an odd look. “Yes, you do,” she said, with certainty. “Here at Hogwarts, we study magical auras–not until fourth year, though. Your aura is the air around you and the way you affect it. Yours isn’t noticeable, precisely. But if you feel for it, it nearly knocks you down. It’s one of the strongest I’ve ever seen on a first year, along with Jonathon Troy’s and Jack Weasley’s. They’re second years, now.”

Meridy’s confusion increased. Jack had a strong magical aura too? Well, of course he would. He was Jack, tall and strong like his father and smart like his mother. And he had an authority about him that his younger cousins always succumbed to, not because he was a tyrant, but because he was good at making people come together.

But before she could say anything else, the bell that signaled it was time to go to class chimed magically through the Hall, reverberating past the tables and out into the corridor to chase itself through the school.

She spotted Jacquie rising from the table a little further down, and flew to catch up. The first year girls had walked down to breakfast together, but there hadn’t been enough seats left for them to sit together. Meridy hadn’t minded very much. It had been nice, talking to Sandy and Kyle.

“What do we have first?” she panted, looking at the schedule she had been given.

“Transfiguration…with Professor Lupin,” Jacquie said. “And the Ravenclaws. And,” she said dropping her voice. “I heard a rumor that Professor Lupin is a werewolf, from a third year.”

Meridy shook her head. “Really?” she said, as casually as she could. Being uninitiated was so very, very hard. She had known that Uncle Remus was a werewolf her entire life, and had loved him all the better for it. Aunt Tonks didn’t mind, and neither did their daughter Madeleine nor their son James, so why should any of the rest of them?

“Well, that’s just what I heard,” Jacquie said, shrugging.

Inside the class, Lupin took his place behind his desk, and looked at them impressively. “Welcome to Transfiguration,” he told the class simply. “One of the most difficult subjects offered at Hogwarts. But you need not fear. We will embark upon the journey together. For the moment…Toran Ashan?”

A tall, dark-skinned boy raised his head uncertainly. Lupin nodded. “Melissa Black?”

She realized that he was calling roll. She raised her hand, a little hesitantly. Uncle Remus’ eyes lingered on her, and she could have sworn they were laughing. Then he moved on to the next person.

After roll, he stood with one foot on a chair, casually. “You are here to learn the art of Transfiguration. That is to say, altering an object so that it becomes another object. Did everyone buy the textbook?”

A sea of nodding faces. He nodded, too. “Good. Then let’s get started.”

Twenty minutes and quite a few note pages later, they were all given a match, with the expressive purpose of trying to turn it into needle. Meridy looked over her notes. It seemed straightforward enough, if you got past the waffle about theory. First, you had to want, really want, the match to become a needle. You had to picture it exactly as you wanted it to be. All as you said the correct incantation, stressing the correct syllables, with the correct wand motions.

She spent a few minutes practicing the wand motion, until hers precisely matched the diagram in the book. Then she spent a minute more learning to correctly pronounce the incantation, which was Nelriendo, emphasis on the next-to-last syllable. Then she looked around at the class. They were all red in the face, they were trying so hard to do the motion and the word at the same time. But most of them were doing it wrong; they needed to learn the parts separately before they could effectively put them together.

Meridy shrugged, feeling nervous, and looked at her match. Here goes nothing, she thought, as she closed her eyes to picture the perfect needle.

Nelriendo!” she cried.

There was a flash of white light, and when it was gone there was a silvery needle where the match had been. Meridy grinned, feeling pleased with herself. Her first spell, with her new wand.

“Well done,” Professor Lupin said, wandering over. “Was that your first try?”

Meridy nodded, and he smiled at her. She grinned back.

“Look here at Ms. Black’s match,” he called to the class. “It’s not a match anymore.”

They crowded around to see it, and stared at her with a combination of awe and irritation. Suddenly feeling shy, she ducked her head.

Maybe she’d just keep it down after this.




* * * *


“What did you think of the classes?” Krista asked in their dorm that night, bouncing on the bed.

Meridy grinned. “I really liked them. Transfiguration’s going to be a challenge, but it’ll be so useful. Charms is interesting too. I like it, because it’s subtle and mischievous, whereas, like Transfiguration just slaps you in the face. Wasn’t History of Magic a bore?”

Krista rolled her eyes. “I don’t see how you stayed awake to take notes,” she said, grudgingly.

She shrugged. “Well…it’s still important to have notes, you know, even if Binns just drones on and on. And the notes themselves were actually pretty interesting. I like history.”

“Oh no. You’re not one of those overachievers, are you? Like, those people who are always nagging their friends to do their homework and color-code their notes?” Alyssa demanded, from her position on her bed, where she was painting her fingernails.

Meridy shrugged. “No,” she said. “Not really. I just like doing things well. But I won’t pass out at exam time, or anything.”

“Exams are important, though,” Nellie said fretfully. “You have to pass them to get into second year.”

“We’ve the whole year to worry about it,” Alyssa said impatiently, brushing this concern aside. “Did you see any cute boys today?”

Meridy bit back a smile. She knew that Alyssa had been going to mention that. The pretty girl had that air about her.

“I think Nevada’s cute,” Krista said bravely.

“Ooh!” Nellie squealed. “Really? Me too!”

Alyssa tossed back her shiny hair. “He’s not bad. But did you see the tall redheaded boy who came into Transfiguration with a note for Professor Lupin? He was cute.”

Meridy nearly retched. Jack had brought a note into Transfiguration today. “I’m not partial to redheads,” she said, to tease Alyssa.

Alyssa tossed her hair. “Good. More for me. But did you hear? His name is Jack, which means that he’s Jack Weasley.”

“What does that mean?” Jacquie asked.

“Are you serious?” Alyssa wanted to know. “Do you even live in Britain? Jack Weasley. Harry Potter’s nephew.”

“So?” Jacquie said staunchly, and Meridy wanted to hug her. “I don’t make a point to memorize the names of Harry Potter’s extended family. The most I know is that he has a daughter named Meredith our age, and she’s supposed to be really rude and really ugly.”

Meridy felt cold. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read,” she said slowly, and Jacquie and Alyssa turned to look at her. “You know the reporter who wrote that–she–was rude and–and unattractive, Rita Skeeter?” Jacquie nodded. “Then you should also know that she wrote a story calling Harry Potter himself ‘Disturbed and Dangerous,’ years ago, making out that he was a manic lunatic, in his fourth year. The Minister of Magic himself believed the story, and until it was evident that You-Know-Who really was back, people accepted Rita’s story as fact.”

“Really?” Krista said. “I never heard that.”

She nodded. “Why would you? People never like admitting that they made a mistake, and Rita will do anything to get a story. Don’t judge Harry Potter’s daughter, or anyone else, because she’s annoyed Rita Skeeter.”

No one said anything. Feeling quite irritated, and as if she’d said too much, she climbed into bed.

“How do you know that?” Krista blurted out.

Meridy thought quickly. “I have a third cousin who works at the Daily Prophet. He comes around for tea sometimes, and tells us stories. He showed me the article, because I didn’t believe him when he told me.”

Krista nodded. “That makes sense,” she said. “It’s just hard to imagine anyone ever thinking anything bad about Harry Potter.”

Welcome to my world, Meridy thought, bitterly. Out loud she only nodded.

Nellie yawned. “It’s getting late,” she said, speculatively.

“So it is,” Meridy said, shortly. “I’m going to bed.”


* * * *


Charms class was going to be fun, Meredith realized the next day, when they started looking at the theory. Professor Flitwick spent a half hour teaching, and then ordered them to split up into partners to practice the spell he’d set them. Meridy took an extra minute to elaborate on her notes with examples from the book.

When she looked up, Jacquie had already paired up with Krista, and now Alyssa was standing by Nellie. Meridy looked around, and saw the Slytherin girl from the train standing alone.

She took a deep breath, and walked over. “I need a partner,” she said bluntly.

The girl looked around mockingly. “What’s the matter, Gryffindor? Couldn’t find a partner from your own House?”

“Rich words, considering the rest of the Slytherins have paired off,” Meridy said. “Work with me?”

This was apparently the right thing to say. The blonde girl nodded. “I’m Allison,” she said.

“Melissa,” Meridy replied.


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