Fate

"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you to."

Chapter One

Our situation on this earth seems strange. Every one of us appears here involuntary and uninvited for a short stay, without knowing the why and the wherefore. In our daily lives we only feel that we are here for the sake of the people around us, for those whom we love and for many other beings whose fate is connected with our own. Fate is a concept that the average person knows of, but doesn't take into full consideration of the power it contains. Some people openly believe that their lives have everything to do with fate; while others believe that fate is just an overreacted belief. The "Others" seem to know exactly what they're headed for and strictly control their actions to keep their lives orderly and systematic.

But what if fate somehow spiraled out of control and your life was suddenly in somebody else's hands? What if you were the cause of somebody else's fate? And what if that cause ended with death? Could you live with yourself? Was it meant to happen? Or was it simply your destiny?

* * *

Draco Malfoy strolled down the busy streets of New York City. The cold night air made his long blonde hair fly back and forth atop his forehead, and he exhaled deeply, soaking in the atmosphere of it all. He loved it. Everything about this city was a mystery, an enigma, and a puzzle that everyone must slowly piece together. One could never get bored in this city, for every corner contained a person from every part of the Earth imaginable. True, the air did tend to smell like cigarette smoke and taxicab exhaust, but once a person lived in New York for a year or two, their noses instinctively block out any unwanted smells. The people who lived there were all very independent, and stayed out of other people's business. So naturally, for Draco Malfoy, New York City was a utopia.

In a few choice words, Draco could explain his reasons for moving to America. Freedom, privacy, and seclusion. Everywhere he went in England, hell, the entire continent of Europe, people constantly bothered him. He could barely live in his own home without the press coming to ask the same questions over and over again...When exactly did you go over to the light side? Did you go to Albus Dumbledore, or did he come to you? What did he say to you to change your mind about the Dark Lord? What is your reaction to the fall of the Dark Lord? Were you a Death Eater? Do you have the Dark Mark? Can we take a look at your left arm? What is your reaction to the death of your father? Did you see it happen? Were you there, and if you were, can you tell us exactly what happened to him? Are you going to inherit the Malfoy millions? What is your mother's reaction to all of this, and what are the two of you planning for the future? Do you consider yourself a close friend of Harry Potter? Do the two of you get along? The questions were endless, and the reporters rambled on, frantically trying to ask all the questions they could in the time they had.

Eventually, he had had to leave London, but it seemed that the reporters followed him everywhere he went. He tried escaping to France, Germany, Spain, Italy, but the press always seemed to track him down. Draco finally decided to fly over to America, and headed straight for the biggest city he could think of. Besides, who would ever think that Draco Malfoy would be living in a muggle city in the states?

He had been living in NYC for almost a year now, and had successfully escaped the endless stalking from reporters. That was the glory of the big city, there were millions of people everywhere, in and out twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He bought an extremely expensive flat in the Upper West Side of the city, and was currently unemployed. He knew deep down that he wouldn't be living there for much longer. In fact, he was planning on heading back to London for the holidays, mainly due to the persistent request by his mother, Narcissa. She had convinced him that things in London had settled down for the most part, and that reporters had newfound obsessions. He was still hesitant to go back, but he knew that there was no point in him staying in America, for the only people he knew were his landlord, and his maid Jacqueline. Still, he would miss the atmosphere of the place immensely, and he made a promise to bring his mother over for a visit. She would be completely delirious when she saw the nine-story department stores that lined 5^th street.

Draco skipped up the steps to his flat two at a time, and unlocked his door. " Jacqueline, J'ai besoin de mon bagage, s'il vous plaît," he called from the sitting room.

" Oui, je l'amènerai à vous rapidement," she said, scurrying into the next room. Moments later, she arrived dragging Draco's luggage to his feet.

"Merci beaucoup, Jacqueline," he said, nodding for her to leave. Jacqueline was a heavy built woman, and the mother of about eleven children. She was in her mid forties, and had been the maid for the previous owner of his particular flat. One could say that she came with the flat, for she had worked in this specific place all of her life. It was just a nice convenience that Draco was fluent in French.

Draco pulled his luggage towards his enormous room. He planned on coming back after the Holidays so that he could pack up all of his belongings properly. He hadn't broken the news of his leaving to Jacqueline yet either, and he knew that him leaving would upset her. After packing up all the clothes that he needed, he went and told Jacqueline of his plans. She became distraught, just like he had expected, but she calmed down after he handed her a hefty paycheck. Seeing as there was no need for her further that night, she left his flat saying, "Merci beaucoup, Merci beaucoup, vous êtes un beau tel homme gentil."

He smiled at her while waving goodbye. With that, he hurried off to bed. He had an early plane to catch in the morning.

* * *

"Hermione, yes, I promise I'll try my hardest to get a ticket. Yes, yes, I know Ron and Luna's wedding is tomorrow morning and I will try to get there as soon as I possibly can, but the flights are completely full! It's seven in the morning here; my plane doesn't leave until late tonight. Yes, I'll try to see if I can get an earlier flight but you've got to understand that everyone is traveling for the holidays! No, I can't guarantee you that I'll make it, so yes you may have to go alone. Hermione, calm down, you'll be fine. Look, I said I'd try and I will but...fine, goodbye," Harry sighed loudly as he hung up the payphone in the New York LGA airport.

He had come over to the states for an urgent IAO (International Auror Organization) meeting, and he needed to get back to London as soon as he could. Ron and Luna were getting married tomorrow, and Harry was the best man. Hermione was getting extremely upset at the idea of his being late, so he had been frantically going to every airline to see if he could switch his ticket, because his plane didn't leave until 10:00 that night. So far, he had had no luck whatsoever. He knew that he didn't want to apparate over to London, because international apparation was long and tiring, hardly anyone did it. Besides, he needed to be rested for Ron's big day, so he continued to pace about the airport lobby.

He sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs and placed his head in his hands sighing loudly. Suddenly he felt someone tap him on the back.

"Hey, Potter," the voice said.

Harry looked up at Draco Malfoy's tired face. "Malfoy! Hey, it's great to see you!" he said standing up to shake his hand and give him a pat on the back. Harry and Draco had become friends after Draco came over to the light side during his seventh year at Hogwarts. They had gone through an awful lot together, and after a year of working side by side and bringing down the dark lord, they had developed a friendship. "Fancy meeting you here, what brings you to the states?"

"Harry!" a tall dark man called from across the room. Harry saw his friend Tom Watson sauntering towards them.

"How are you this morning, Watson?" Harry called.

"I'm doin' just fine, thanks!" Watson said, coming up to where Harry and Draco were.

"Malfoy, this is Tom Watson. Watson, this is Draco Malfoy, we went to school together," Harry said, introducing the men.

"Pleased to meet you, Watson," Draco said shaking his hand firmly. He inwardly laughed at his ridiculous outfit, it looked as if he had ridden a horse to the airport.

"Nice to meet you too," Watson replied with a thick southern accent.

"Watson and I are the co-presidents of the IAO, we met here on a business meeting a few days ago," Harry explained to Draco.

"Hey, do y'all want some coffee or water or anythin'?" Waston asked.

"No thanks, I'm okay," Draco said shaking his head.

"I'm fine, Watson," Harry said.

"Okay, I'll catch y'all later," Watson said, and with that he briskly walked away.

"Y'all?" Draco asked, looking at Harry.

"Hey, cut him a break, he's from Texas," Harry explained, laughing a little at Draco's bemused expression.

"Well, that explains the hideous boots he was wearing."

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco's sarcastic remark. "So anyway," Harry asked again, sitting down in the orange seats, "What brings you to the states?"

"Well, I've actually been living here for almost a year," Malfoy said, sitting down along with Harry.

"That explains a lot. I was wondering what happened to you when the Daily Prophet suddenly stopped publishing articles about you every day," Harry teased.

Draco grimaced at the memory. "Well, I had to leave, the reporters just wouldn't leave me alone. But my mother told me that it has quieted down there a bit, so I am headed there for the holidays. I sure am going to miss it here, I don't know if I want to go back," he admitted.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's nice to get away for a while. When Hermione and I went on our honeymoon to Hawaii, we never wanted to go home," Harry said smiling at the memory.

"Hermione? So you two are finally married then?" Draco asked.

"Yes, we have been together for a little over a year now. As a matter of fact, Ron is getting married tomorrow, to Luna Lovegood," Harry told him.

"Really? Weasley found himself a wife then?" Draco joked.

"Yeah. I'm the best man, but the way things are looking right now I'm going to be late to the wedding," Harry said angrily.

"What do you mean you're going to be late?"

"Well, my plane doesn't leave until ten o'clock tonight, and if you add the time change to how long the flight is, I wont get to London until eleven or twelve in the morning, and the wedding starts at ten," Harry said with disappointment in his voice.

"Well if your plane doesn't leave until tonight, why are you here so early?"

"I came to see if any of the airlines had any cancellations. Hermione begged me to see if I could get home sooner than tomorrow morning. I went to every airline, but since it's the holidays, every plane is completely full," Harry said sighing deeply.

Draco pulled his ticket out of his pocket and looked at the times. Draco would be arriving in London at about nine o'clock that night; he would be getting to London before Harry even left LGA. He looked at his watch and then to Harry, he was running his hands anxiously through his dark brown hair.

"Here," Draco said, handing him his ticket.

"Malfoy," Harry began before Draco cut him off.

"We can switch tickets. I have nothing waiting for me in London except my mom and she wont care if I'm late. Besides, I would rather stay here as long as I can, because I don't particularly want to go back to London anyway. You, on the other hand, obviously have things to attend to. You'll get home late this evening."

"Malfoy, this is a first class ticket, it costs way more than mine. No, I can't accept this, it wouldn't be fair-" he said giving the ticket back.

"Consider it a late wedding present," Draco said shoving the ticket back in his hand. "I'm serious, take it."

Harry sighed in relief. It felt as if a huge weight was being lifted from his shoulders. "You're sure?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure. We had better go talk to them about switching our luggage then," Draco said standing up.

Harry pulled out his ticket and handed it to Draco. "Thanks a lot, Malfoy," Harry said, giving him another pat on the back.

"Hey, no problem," Draco said smiling.

"Where are y'all off to now?" Watson asked, coming up behind them with a tall cup of coffee in his hands.

"Malfoy here has offered to give up his seat so that I can get home in time for Ron's wedding tomorrow," Harry explained as the three of them made their way to the flight attendant's desk.

"Well, that's awful nice of ya," Watson said, giving Draco yet another pat on the back.

Harry and Draco each signed the necessary papers, so that their luggage would be re-routed to the correct planes. Just when they were finished, an overhead voice began calling for first class passengers. Harry picked up his carry on, and headed for the phone to inform Hermione that he would be arriving in London earlier, but decided at the last minute not to.

"What's wrong? Does the phone not work?" Draco asked coming up beside him.

"Well, I think I will surprise Hermione by coming home early. Yes, I'll pick her up a bouquet of Daisies, her favorite flowers. We had a little argument on the phone, and I need to make it up to her," Harry smiled, planning it all out. "Oh, and before I forget," Harry pulled out a sheet of paper, an invitation by the looks of it. "Here are directions to Ron's wedding, it would be great if you could come by, I'm sure Hermione would love to see you, and don't worry, the press is not allowed!"

"Okay, maybe I'll come by and check it out," Draco said shaking Harry's hand one more time.

"Thanks again, Malfoy," Harry said smiling. "See ya, Watson," Harry said over his shoulder.

"Later Potter!" Watson replied.

Draco and Tom chatted for a little while before Tom had to catch his flight back to Texas. Draco continued to wander around the airport all afternoon, soaking in all he could before his plane was set to leave.

Little did he know that in a few hours, his life would take a drastic turn.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes, it is."

"Hello, my name is David Reid, I work for American Airlines here in New York City," David said apprehensively.

There was a long pause. A knot of nervousness had begun to grow in the pit of Hermione's stomach. "What can I do for you Mr. Reid?" Hermione said tensely. She didn't know why an airline man would be calling her home.

"I'm calling in regards to your husband Harry Potter. I am extremely sorry but your husband died in an airplane accident this afternoon," his weary voice said.

Silence.

Several minutes passed when his voice came back, "Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes?" her voice cracked.

"The plane had some sort of technical malfunction, I am deeply sorry for your loss," the exhausted voice said to her.

Hermione stared at the wall of her bedroom in shock. She temporarily forgot how to breathe...her brain shut down and she sunk to her knees as her body began to shake violently. She held her stomach in agony, fear, anger, guilt, hurt, regret, pain...every emotion that the human body was capable of was coursing through Hermione's body at those words...your husband died...

"Mrs. Potter," the voice echoed in the phone.

No answer.

The next few hours were a blur to Hermione. All she remembered was that she threw the phone as hard as she possibly could against her bedroom wall, and watched it shatter to the floor. She sat on the ground, crumpled up in the fetal position, praying that she would wake up from this horrible nightmare. Was this just some kids idea of a cruel joke? She sure as hell was not laughing.

The next morning, Hermione had not moved. She let the other phones in her house ring endlessly, and she refused to get up off the floor. She had convinced herself that it was some sort of prank call, Harry would be walking through the door any moment, and they would make their way to Ron's house.

"Ron!" she gasped, remembering that today was the day of his wedding. She got up off the floor and ran to her fireplace. In moments, Ron's tired face appeared in front of her.

"Hermione," Ron sighed in relief. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "Thank god you're okay, I was beginning to think the worst. Stay right there, I'll floo over immediately," he said quickly disappearing.

"But-" she protested. An achy feeling began to rise in her stomach, spreading all the way to her throat. Oh my god, it wasn't a dream, she thought. She ran to her restroom just in time to make it to the toilet as she puked all of her stomach fluids. She walked slowly back into her room, and tears sprang instantly to her eyes as she observed the shattered phone all over the floor. Slowly, the events of yesterday night came into focus, and that sorrowful voice bombarded her brain ...your husband died...

Her head popped up when she heard Ron from the other room. "Hermione," he cried, taking her up into a huge hug. "Oh god, Hermione, are you alright?" he refused to release her from the hug, and she began to weep just as hard as Ron was. Her body was burning with anger and pain, and she was sure that her tears would evaporate once they touched her skin. Her body began to shake once again, and Ron pulled her down to the ground where they sat, holding each other, crying together.

It seemed like hours had passed when Hermione finally pulled her head back up to look Ron in the face.

"How did you find out?" she whispered weakly.

"It was in the Daily Prophet this morning," he sniffed.

"I got a call last night...oh Merlin, what was I thinking! I should have called you! Oh Ron, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," she sobbed out loud burying her head in his shoulder again.

"Hermione, shhh, calm down, it's okay," he said rubbing her back in soothing circles.

"Ron, what about your wedding?"

"We've postponed it, don't worry about that though, we need to get through this first," he spoke calmly.

"Oh Ron, I don't think I'll ever get through this! What am I supposed to do now? Harry..." she squeaked, her jaw began to tremble as she took in gasps of air. "Oh my god, he's never coming back, he's never coming back to me," she repeated. She stood up, untangling herself from Ron's strong grasp. "He's never coming home, I'll never get to see him ever again," she whispered, pacing the room. "I'll never get to talk to him again, or hug him again, or hold his hand, I'll never get to kiss him again..." she gulped in all the air she could get as she collapsed to the floor. Ron leapt over and caught her before she hit the ground in full force.

Ron sat there, cradling her in his arms, as he shushed into her ear. Eventually, her body stopped shaking, and Ron gazed out the window. The sky was an ugly gray, and he knew exactly why the birds were not singing.