A Future Unseen

By

DarkGoldPhoenix

A/N:

Hey, thanks for giving this a read. This is the only author's note you'll find in this story, I'm not really a fan of popping them randomly in chapters because… Well you're here to read the story aren't you? Not to read my weird thoughts.

So, I'll start by pointing out that I don't own Harry Potter. The only thing I own is the content you don't recognize; and there's quite a bit of that. It's a very AU story with one of the main characters being an OC.

Next, an honest bit about the story (not to try and make you read it) just to give you a heads up about what you'll find when reading.

I wrote this because, although I love the Harry Potter books, there's one thing missing from them. This isn't a criticism at all, it's just my opinion. I think there could be more about life in the books. Plain and simple, real world life. I am aiming to show the best parts, the worst parts, and everything in between as best I can.

Now, I realize that I'm only one human, and it's impossible for me to know everything there is to know about life, but I want to tell you, through this story, what I think are the most important lessons and experiences in a teenager's life. This story is not going to be one of them where the main character learns a valuable life lesson, changes how he acts, and everyone lives happily ever after… No way! This is going to be deep, Hilarious, violent, romantic, upsetting, inspiring and frustrating. It's going to be fast paste at points and slow at others; just like life is. I can guarantee there'll be parts you don't like, but I hope you'll like most of it. I'm not going to jump in straight away with depressing stuff, you might think the start is a bit odd in fact, but there's a purpose, don't worry. Everything about the Protectors will be explained throughout the story, so don't panic if you don't understand their job or history; that's how it's meant to be.

I'm not trying to get a message across either, I really just want to show what I think of life through something I love.

As I said, I'm going to be brutally honest, so if you're not looking for a story like that, thanks for giving it a go, but don't read. Anything you've got to say about the story I'd be more than happy to hear, so feel free to review.

Finally, I don't mean to offend or insult anyone at all by what I wrote in this story, but there are people that do say or act in ways that are despicable, and I have to put them in, because if I didn't, this wouldn't be an accurate representation of life in full.

I think that's everything I wanted to say. I really hope you'll enjoy this and thank you again for reading.

Chapter One.

"Crucio!" Roared Simon.

"Oh shit!" Ella muttered.

The solid looking shop door Ella was using as cover turned out not to be as solid as she'd originally thought. Metal and glass fragments rocketed out in all directions as the torcher curse punched through it and missed her by millimetres as she dived to the right; scattering a display of hats.

"That was a powerful one," she thought, rolling into a crouch and nonchalantly flicking her finger at the destroyed doorway to banish the rubble outside.

She listened to the slight displacement of air that Simon's movements caused, and not a second later knew he was about to enter the clothes shop they found themselves fighting in.

"Bombarda," she thought grimly, throwing herself backwards behind the tills to avoid the resulting explosion her silently cast spell had caused. Even though she expected it, it still annoyed her that he'd been able to avoid the blast with not even a scratch on him. Shrugging, she flipped back over the row of tills whilst the dust was still settling and raised her hand. From each finger spears of light lanced towards Simon. Two were at head height and the rest were at chest height. Her hope was that, due to the poor visibility in the cramped shop, which was rather gloomy to start with, he wouldn't be able to dodge them all.

Now running towards the back of the shop and the fire escape situated on the back wall, she sent a powerful Stupefy into the centre of the dust cloud to further impede Simon's efforts. Before she could reach the exit however, there was a swooshing sound that seemed to emanate from all around her like a giant gust of wind and, simultaneously, every item of clothing in the shop burst into flames and flew at her. With in a few seconds there was a ring of fire surrounding her and rapidly shrinking to try and contain her. Swearing again, Ella sent a Confringo at the ceiling and a blast of compressed air at the floor, to propel herself upward, and was thrown out of the hole in the roof she just created. Slowing her landing as much as she could with a hastily cast spell, she unceremoniously fell in a heap on the roof of the next building along on the, mostly destroyed, London street.

In the half a minute it took her to catch her breath, Ella looked around at the result of their battle. They had been struggling to overpower each other for at least two hours she reckoned, and the outcome was collapsing buildings, a lot of fire, charred and broken bodies and a lot of blood.

She was used to blood.

She was used to dead bodies.

She'd seen death in many different forms during her short life: burned bodies, smashed and twisted bodies, and worst of all, in Ella's opinion anyway, were the decomposing bodies. She could never forget the first time she'd seen the decaying remains of a human being. It didn't feel real to her at the time; she was only 11 then.

She was in a large country manner somewhere in Scotland, she had never been told its exact location, and her orders were to "locate the ward stone. Shatter the ward stone. And get the hell out!" The haunting memory assaulted her as she observed the London battleground below her. The first thing she recalled was the smell of at least 20 bodies, in this room alone. It was like a physical, oppressive force that slammed into her as she took her first few breaths of the rancid air. Her sense of smell had never been overpowered this much before and it through her off balance; causing her to stumble slightly. Trying not to breath too deep, she became aware of the low buzzing noise of hundreds of flies darting about the damp, drab entrance hall the portkey had dropped her in. They had a strange pattern, she noticed. They'd circle above a body for a time, then dive down and land upon the rotting skin to feast, before moving on to the next corpse and repeating the cycle. In addition, it was unnaturally warm in the manner. It felt, to Ella, like someone had turned the heating up to full on a blazing hot summers day, and then shut all the windows for good measure. It stifled her and, even though realistically she knew it wasn't the case, she found it difficult to walk about; as if the air itself was thick and dense. She felt pressed upon from all sides, and this, more than the sounds and smells, creeped her out the most. On the left of the hall, was a row of doors, with only one remaining intact. The rest were riddled with what seemed like bullet holes. The faded wallpaper on the right was ripped, as if some giant beast had raked its claws down the walls. Hanging from the cracked ceiling was an equal mix of spiderwebs and ropes of mould; they crisscrossed each other like a discoloured tapestry and caused the little light that made it through the grimy window in the roof to form wafer thin stripes on the floor.

The mission, for the most part, was a success that day. Finding the ward stone had been surprisingly easy. But that wasn't the point of the mission. The point was to see how well Ella could cope with complete and utter desecration and violent murder. The only feedback she was given from the mission was, "you did well enough I suppose, you were only sick four times."

Pulling herself out of the past and back to the rubble strewn street, she idly wondered when Sunday had turned into Monday. Lying on the cold hard roof of a charity shop, Ella realized with a shock that she was 15 tomorrow.

"15 years old," she thought. "What other 15-year-old do I know that's running around London at half past three in the morning trying to contain a madman?"

Unsurprisingly, she didn't have an answer for herself.

The next shock she had was when she found herself launched into the air again, only this time, it wasn't of her doing.

"Fuck, I was in the same place for too long!" she chastised herself. Then, with a painful crunch, she hit the ground. A cracking sound and sharp pain told her that the left arm she landed on had broken and two of her teeth had been knocked out. Fighting the pain and dizziness it caused, Ella climbed shakily to her feet and whipped her right arm forward. Her fist was blocked by a quickly raised forearm. She felt that, if she hadn't just been bounced off the ground, that punch might have been a bit faster and she might have just landed a hit. Unfortunately though, it wasn't, and she didn't.

Simon spun on his left foot and his right whistled towards her head. Ella ducked under it and attempted another stronger punch to his stomach. This time, it connected. Off balance due to the kick he had just launched, Simon was thrown onto his back by the force of Ella's blow. With Simon helpless for now, Ella wanted to try and finish the fight quickly, so she sent another spear of magical energy at him.

Just before it hit there was a slight sizzling sound and a shield sprang into existence over the downed man. The shield, once it'd absorbed Ella's spell darted forward and impacted her in the centre of her chest. The magic burned her clothes and skin and she screamed with pain. Bringing her foot down on Simons leg she was satisfied to hear a crack as it broke.

Eyes watering from the pain in her chest, she yelled "I'm a woman remember, dick head!"

Simon only laughed and rolled away from the next spell she through at him, which was a lethal metal spike she conjured. Back on his feet now, although a little unsteady, Simon flicked his hand in a beckoning gesture and before Ella could counter it, she found herself summoned towards him. As soon as she was in reach, Simon wrapped his arm around her neck and squeezed with extraordinary pressure. In less than a second, she felt something in her neck crack and a feeling of light-headedness overcame her.

Desperately, she thought "Depulso," and was relieved to feel Simon let go as he was blasted away into the window of an Indian takeaway. The tinkling of broken glass followed Simons grunt of pain as he fell through it. Ella took deep lungful's of air and sent a quick, low level healing spell into her neck. Not knowing exactly what had broken, she couldn't heal it completely like she wanted.

The next moment, with glass in his brown hair and a grin of delight plastered on his face, Simon strode out of the takeaway. His footsteps made it clear to Ella that he'd healed his leg whilst she was recovering from nearly being strangled. Frustrated at her lack of progress in defeating Simon, she sent a Crucio towards him, just as he had done to her not 10 minutes ago in the shop. To her annoyance, nothing happened.

"That's enough," shouted Simon as he walked towards her, stepping over the corpse of a muggle who'd been cut in half from a poorly aimed spell, "throwing me into that Indian made me realize I'm starving, we haven't eaten since yesterday morning you know?"

She ignored him.

"This was what always seemed to happen," she thought. "We fight to a standstill," she reflected bitterly. "I can never beat him, it's just this constant cycle of one of us maims the other until we have to heal, then it starts over again. I can't incapacitate him, and he can't stop me either. We could keep going like this for hours."

Simon noticed her angry expression.

"Yeah yeah, I know you're pissed off, we have this conversation after every fight," he said rolling his eyes.

"And for the past six months I keep asking you, how the fuck do I win?" replied Ella through gritted teeth.

"And I keep telling you, experience, and more experience. I've got about 25 years on you love, so to say we're drawing, and have been for a while means you're doing amazing."

Ella turned away from him and dropped to the floor with a sigh.

"Come on, don't turn your back and sulk like you did when you were 12."

"I'm healing my tits actually; since you decided to fry them." Ella replied waspishly as she pulled the tattered remains of her training bra aside and gazed down at her breasts in disgust.

"Sorry," laughed Simon.

"no you're not."

Gently running her hands over her chest, Ella muttered a few words and squirmed as the blackened skin began to heal itself. While the magic took effect, she thought over the battle. It'd been quite short compared to what she was accustomed to. Both of their injuries had been easy to heal this time. The worst Simon got was that broken leg she'd given him.

Simon Was quite short for a man of his early forties. With broad shoulders, a strong upper body and lightning fast reflexes, he had a distinct advantage in a fight as he dodged and weaved between spells just as much, or possibly more, than he would block them. A strategy that Ella adopted, when fighting him, was to cast spells simultaneously, but at different points around Simon, in the hope that, whilst evading one, he'd accidently move into the path of another. Of course, he had figured out her ploy ages ago, but it was the best she could do. Simon's hair was light brown and very short. He had quite small, chocolate coloured eyes, that never missed a thing. Super conscious of his surroundings, Simon's additional, unfair advantage, according to Ella, was that he seemed to be able to judge what type of ground was the best for him to win their fights. He uncannily managed to push Ella onto terrain that made it difficult for her to maintain a secure footing.

She loved her uncle Simon, she really did, but he was just so brutal and uncaring sometimes. She'd been training with him ever since she could remember; and she found it both scary and comforting that he'd been a part of her life for so long. When she wasn't at school, she trained with her Uncle. He had an extremely powerful room in the training centre, that could mimic any seen the controller desired. They used this situation room for most of their training sessions. Today, Simon had used a classic model of the London street. Last week, he'd surprised her by making the room an accurate representation of the arctic ocean. She had to try and incapacitate him, fend off his attacks, and stay afloat, all whilst maintaining the spell that kept her from freezing to death. Simon was undoubtedly an excellent teacher and wasn't afraid of pushing her over her limits. He was the only parental figure she had, and he was the one that cared for her, shouted at her, sent her to training school and everything in between. School was one of the only normal things in her life. Yes, it was faster paste than a usual secondary school, and yes, the lessons taught her more about real life than other schools would, but she couldn't afford to waste time in a normal school. As well as English, Maths and Science, Ella learned how to keep fit, how to meditate and keep herself calm in any situation. She was taught hand to hand combat and how to move and balance to make the best out of the ground she was upon. After school, Simon taught her magic. He taught her what it meant to be a witch and how to control her powers to such a degree that she could cast spells with a thought. She didn't need a wand anymore and hadn't for years. Her knowledge wasn't as great as Simon's yet, but she was very quickly absorbing spell after spell and she knew her uncle was extremely proud of her; he told her every day. He'd raised her from when she was a baby and her real parents had been blown to bits by that twisted bastard who called himself Lord Voldemort. That'd been a story she had hated listening to when Simon told her it the day after her 10th birthday.

"I've been dreading telling you this for about 10 years Ella," he had said as they sat together in his study.

"Nearly every day you ask me why. Why your school is different. Why we train. Why we live here, underground in Buckingham Palace."

He sighed, "It's been so difficult not been allowed to tell you, but as I've told you before…"

"You were ordered not to by the Queen," said Ella, "I know."

"Yeah," Simon replied, "Sorry."

"You also said that you could tell me everything as soon as I was 10," said Ella uncertainly.

"That's right." There was a long pause while Ella waited for her Uncle to start speaking again. Nervously, she shifted her feet under her and leaned against the arm of the leather sofa where she always sat when in the study. Simon opened a draw in his desk and extracted a half empty bottle of whisky. Taking a long gulp, straight from the bottle, he started talking again.

"Ella, you and me are what are called, Royal Magical Protectors; or just Protectors for short."

"Protectors." That one word had stuck with Ella throughout the, almost, five years since she'd first been told about what it meant, on that momentous day in the study. She had also been told how, when she was a baby, Lord Voldemort had killed both her parents, Aria and Alan, in that final battle between the Protectors and the so-called Death Eaters. Simon told her of how the entire force of Protectors had been wiped out in the 20 years Lord Voldemort had waged terrible war on the wizards and witches of the UK. With a lurch in her stomach, Ella was told that her and Simon were the only two Protectors left alive and, for their safety, the Queen had sent them into hiding when it became clear they would lose the war with Voldemort. To everyone's surprise though, on Halloween 1981, the most feared wizard in recorded history was defeated by a baby boy called Harry Potter. Ella knew the story of Harry Potter. Her uncle had told her about him many times before. She never realized however, how much significance him defeating Voldemort had on her own life. Soon after Voldemort was vanquished, and most of his Death Eaters were imprisoned by the Aurors, the Queen and Simon had decided that Ella had to be trained in the old ways of the Protectors; because they both agreed Voldemort wasn't gone for good.

"He had too much power to just roll over and die," Simon had said.

And so, at the age of five, her training began. She had been pushed through the training program quicker than any other Protector before her, to ensure she was as ready as she could be, for when she turned 15, which was when she could be officially initiated into the elite group of fully trained Protectors. Usually, her initiation would be something to celebrate, however, as there was only one other protector alive, the thought of the celebration just made her sad.

Coming out of her reverie, Ella felt the last of the pain fade from her chest as it finished healing. Standing, she approached Simon.

"Well done," he said with a smile, "that was a good one. I thought I'd keep things simple for today and incorporate a bit of everything we've been working on seen as this is the last time we'll get to do this for a long while. As you know, tomorrow, because you'll be the big one five, you'll have your initiation ceremony with the Queen, then the day after, you'll be given your first mission."

Ella nodded, "Should I not be doing something other than missions now that Voldemort has be resurrected? By the way you've been talking, I'll be doing something different. I thought the job of the Protectors was to keep the piece and make sure all species and races are equal, and to do that, Voldemort needs to be put down."

"That is our job yes, but you'll not be going out and fighting him on your first day of being an official member. Remember he decimated the whole group of elites and only got some minor injuries. I can't stress this enough Ella, he is extremely powerful, and not to undermine your achievements so far, but you'd be squished if you rushed out to face him now. For over a thousand years, the group of protectors has been made of, at minimum, 10 members of each magical species of the UK. That's well over 50 of the best fighters! And they were all killed by one maniac."

"So, what am I doing then for my first mission? Come on, it's only two days away, surely you can tell me now?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow," Simon replied. "Now, we need to tidy up a few things back at the palace and prepare you for tomorrows ceremony. Oh yeah, and we need some sleep as well."

Worried at Simon's reluctance to tell her what it would be she'd be doing, Ella waited until he'd disabled the situation room and they'd walked out into the training centre itself. Deep under London, the training centre was one of the prized relics of the Protector's history and had been where they had been taught powerful spells and techniques for hundreds of years. Whenever she was free to explore the centre, she always found something knew. Built on 50 levels beneath Buckingham Palace, it was more like a city than anything else. There were houses, great libraries, bunkers and offices. For the past 15 years however, it had been empty apart from Ella and Simon.

Later, after a long, overdue sleep, Ella packed all her possessions into an enlarged suitcase and went with Simon to be coached on the dos and don'ts for the initiation ceremony with the Queen tomorrow. She picked everything up fairly quickly and was then given the rest of the day to go see her friends from school. Simon always stressed the importance of having good friends around you. He said that she would fail at her job if she didn't have people to support her and people that she could support. None of her friends knew about her magical side, or the fact that she was a Protector. They just thought that, like them, she'd been sent to the private school by rich parents. Ella could've gone to the UK's best magic school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, however the magical education there was just too slow for what she needed, plus, there was no physically challenging classes at all. No, for the best training, Ella needed to be in the best institution; the Protector's own training camp.

Reaching the large, airy dorms of the private school, she found her three best friends, Juliet, Fin and Henry waiting for her. When not with Simon, these three were mainly the ones she spent her time with. Everyone knew she was leaving the school, but, of course, nobody knew the real reason. The cover story was that her rich parents were moving to America and she was going with them. At first, when she found out who and what she was, she had hated lying to them about her activities after school. It had been one of the biggest arguments her and Simon had had. Now though, she knew it was best if they didn't know the truth about her. After all, No one accept the Queen even knew there were Protectors still alive. Voldemort didn't know, and they wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"How long have you got with us Elle?" asked Fin.

"A couple of hours I think," she said, rolling her eyes at the nickname, "My uncle is just sorting stuff out with school and then he's driving me to my parent's house."

"I honestly don't know what us three are going to do without you," sniffled Juliet. "You've just been there with us for… Well forever."

"Yeah," added Henry, "Fin will do hour heads in because he won't have a girlfriend anymore!"

"Shut up," laughed Fin, "We haven't been dating for months now. We broke things off when Ella was sure she was leaving."

"Didn't stop you kissing her a few weeks ago though did it?" grinned Henry.

"How did you know about that?" yelled Ella indignantly. Ella had been dating Fin since she was 13, and before that she had gone out with Henry for a short while, but that was nothing serious. It was a sign of their friendship that none of them felt uncomfortable with each other, even after she'd officially broken things off with Fin, but unofficially… Well, she was nearly 15 wasn't she? Fin was thin for his age and had dark hair cut in a circle on the top of his head. She felt quite lucky that he hadn't asked too many questions about why she spent so much time with Simon outside of school. She was also glad that magic could heal almost any injury, because if Fin could've seen the state of her after some of the more brutal training sessions… She didn't want to think what he would've done.

After spending a relaxing few hours with her friends and exchanging many tearful goodbyes, and a small chased kiss with Fin to the amusement of everyone, Ella returned to her house under the Palace to eat with Simon.

"How're you feeling about tomorrow?" he enquired.

"I don't even know. On one hand I'm glad I've got to this point and I'm proud that it's my initiation. But then on the other hand, there's only going to be you and the Queen there. If this were how it should be, I'd be celebrating and partying with the other Protectors. I'd have friends my age, just like me and I wouldn't have to lie to people."

"I know," said Simon sadly, "The fall of the Protectors was one of the worst events in history. There has always been Protectors in the world. I think, well, I hope, the mission the Queen will give you tomorrow will make you a bit happier at least. And before you ask, I'm not telling you what it is."

Ella stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm sorry that you've had to be trained like this. I'm sorry that you've been alone, not literally of course, but I know how it feels being the only one. When it was obvious we'd lose the war, and I was ordered to go into hiding with you, I felt like such a coward. I absolutely hated leaving your parents and friends, but, at the time, I was considered the best trainer in the hole order and, for the sake of the future of the Protectors, I couldn't be killed."

Standing up and rounding the table, Ella hugged her uncle.

"I know this has all been necessary, I understand that I have a roll to play in this fucking war, and okay, I don't really like it, but I'm not backing down, I've trained too much for that," she laughed, "I'm ready uncle, whatever this mission is, I'll be ready for it."

"I hope so," he smiled, "It's one of the most important tasks the Protectors have ever been given in our long history, and I know you'll be amazing."