- Gryffindor Common Room -
Harry brushed a lock of his uncontrollable hair as he attempted to finish his Potions essay, due tomorrow. He scowled as he crossed out another line, successfully ruining the parchment again. Groaning, he crumpled up the parchment and brought out a new one. He ran his fingers through his hair as he rethought a possibly new beginning.
"Maybe it would have helped if you actually tried to pay attention in class, Harry." Hermione offhandedly said, not looking up from her Transfiguration homework.
"Maybe it would help if Snape actually tried to teach the class and not glare at me every two seconds." Harry shot back.
Hermione looked up and opened her mouth to say something, but quickly turned into a gasp of surprise as a loud explosion sounded through the room.
"What the bloody hell?!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione didn't bother lecturing him, she was too focused on the loss of magic in the air.
Everyone simultaneously shivered as they felt-or rather the absence-of magic.
Gryffindors flooded down from their dorms, and into the Common Room. Even though the Room was jam-packed with rowdy Gryffindors, there was not a peep from any of them. They were all distracted by the events which just occurred. They were waiting for someone to speak up, someone to give a theory on what happened.
Immediately all eyes went to Hermione, who wordlessly shrugged and seemed as panicked as the rest of them.
"If there was something that even Hermione doesn't know, we are truly screwed." was the unsaid though as everyone stared at Hermione in disbelief.
Suddenly the portrait opened to the panting Head Boy.
"Quick, everyone! To the Quidditch Pitch! Hogwart's wards have fallen and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is attacking! The Headmaster needs to rebuild the wards, so we have to get out of the castle! It's swarmed with Death Eaters!"
"Then how is the Quidditch Pitch Safer?!" A random second year shouted, from the back.
"The Professors are there! Just trust us and-RUN!" The Head Boy screamed, whipping out his wand and throwing an Expelliarmus at a charging Death Eater. The Students started running, soon combining with the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins, all running to the Pitch. The Head Boy and Girl, along with the Prefects and sixth to seventh years were surrounding the younger years, protecting them and throwing spells at various Death Eaters that stood in their way. In that moment, there were no Four Houses, but there were the students of Hogwarts, helping each other. Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws, protected each other, regardless of House, Blood Status, or Year.
Once they made it to the Pitch, Harry could see the Professors, sagging their shoulders in relief, but tensed up again as they fought off the incoming Death Eaters.
The Students helped their Professors battle off the Death Eaters, but soon to find out that Voldemort was in the center of the Pitch. In their moment of surprise, the Death Eaters instantly disarmed them. Backing up, they moved to the edges of the Pitch, their eyes not leaving the smug Voldemort.
"Where the bloody Hell is the Headmaster?!" a fourth year Ravenclaw hissed.
"None of your concern, brat." A Death Eater said, shoving the Ravenclaw. A Slytherin first year caught her, but stumbled.
Harry glared at the Death Eater, only to be pushed to the front by said Death Eater.
"Ah, yes...Harry Potter..." Voldemort stage whispered.
"Tim."
Voldemort's eye twitched.
"My name is not Tim."
"Sure it isn't, Tim Ribbit."
"It's not Tim Ribbit, it's Tom Riddle! And it's not Tom Riddle, it's Lord Voldemort!" he yelled out, Harry slapping his hand over his burning scar, gasping at the searing pain.
Voldemort calmed down, but the scar kept tingling.
"As you can see, I'm about to do a ritual." he said, gesturing at the grass.
Everyone looked down to notice that there was indeed a Ritual Circle, next to Voldemort.
"I'm going to bring back my great ancestor, Salazar Slytherin!" He declared, brandishing a Ritual Blade. He cut his palm and drops of blood littered the center of the Ritual. (A fourth year Gryffindor could be heard, humming 'Bad Blood' By Taylor Swift.)
"Reducam enim erat et antecessoris mea convertam, convertam in potestate hominis astutia mortalium reduceret regnum Salazar Slytherin!" He continuously chanted, until jade smoke arose from the Circle. The smoke was suddenly pulled into a ball of Avada Kedavra green light, which formed a man, with long, hair and sharp features, whose eyes were closed.
"Salazar Slytherin..." Draco muttered in disbelief, eyes wide.
Salazar, however, was not fully formed. He turned back into a ball of light and flew right into Harry's chest, who collapsed and a startled gasped. He laid unconscious on the ground, glowing. A trail of green light raced down his fingertips and into the Circle. Then three other balls of light appeared. A royal blue one, a daisy yellow one, and a firetruck-red one.
Everyone watched in mute astonishment, including Voldemort, as the blue orb of light slammed into Hermione, the yellow into Ginny, and the Red into Ron, who all fell unconscious and started glowing.
"Milord, Dumbledore has successfully rebuilt the wards, which would be activated in 10 seconds!" A Death Eater exclaimed, flying in on a broomstick.
Voldemort cursed in Parseltongue, and pulled out a Portkey.
"Retreat!" He shouted.
As the Death Eaters left, Voldemort glanced at Harry, who stopped glowing. After a moment's thought, he grabbed him and Portkeyed out.
As soon as the Wards were activated, the Student instantly felt the Magic back in the air, an invisible weight leaving their shoulders. But the relief was short lasting.
Dumbledore appeared, obviously tired. "Is everyone alright?"
"Harry! The Dark Lord took him!" Seamus cried out.
Dumbledore shoulders sagged and his face was filled with anguish. "Harry..." Then he noticed Hermione, Ginny, and Ron. Not asking what happened to them, he ordered someone to take them into the Hospital Wing.
When the three were in the Hospital Wing, the professors quickly filled in Dumbledare what had happened.
Dumbledore put his face in his hands and painfully whispered, "Harry...My boy...I failed you…."
The Professors look at one another. If Voldemort had the Boy-Who-Lived, the Wizarding World, and the Muggle World, was doomed.
- Slytherin Manor -
A black haired boy laid peacefully on a small, dirty cot in a dungeon.
Dark, Avada Kedavra green eyes suddenly flashed open.