Prologue: Frerés Jaques, the Mourning Bells are Ringing
The Bells Tolled…
Everywhere in the world, every church bell was tolling.
The Bells Tolled…
Leaving many confused and suspicious as to why they were ringing-especially the occupants of those churches.
The Bells Tolled…
And those few who knew why the bells tolled either mourned or cheered, for their greatest ally, or their greatest foe, was dead.
The Bells Tolled…
And nearly every witch and wizard in the world gathered outside their nearest church to mourn his passing.
The Bells Tolled…
The greatest gathering was in a place that is not a church, but rather a castle. This gathering was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the dead boy had once resided.
The Bells Tolled…
And at the front of the mourning crowd at Hogwarts stood out a group of people that were a crowd in themselves…and they all had red hair.
The Bells Tolled…
And in front of them kneeled a girl, appearing too sad to even cry, and her hair was brown. The only thing between her and the school was a casket.
The Bells Tolled…
And the girl stood up and laid a hand on the forehead of the body inside, and then turned and left, with the crowd parting for her.
The Bells Tolled…
And two men, on the other side of one of the windows of the great castle, watched in silence, mourning, not the boy's passing, but the mourning of the people on the lawn.
The Bells Tolled…
And the younger of the two, a teenager with black hair and emerald eyes, broke the silence. "I can't stand to see her like this, Albus…It's horrible. I wish I could just tell her…"
The Bells Tolled…
And the elder, an old man well into his second century with silver hair and blue eyes turned to look at the other. "I know, and I understand. I wish it could be different…but no one else can know that the body in that casket is a fake."
The Bells Tolled…
And the younger did not reply. He simply looked out the window again, watching the girl's sad progress to the gates of the school.
The Bells Tolled…
And far away, all the way near a town called Little Hangleton in England (the castle was in Northern Scotland), a man listened to the nearest bell with sadistic glee. "Well done, Severus. Killing him redeems you for not retrieving the prophecy from Dumbledore…"
The Bells Tolled…
And all over, witches and wizards mourned the passing of their hero. The Boy-Who-Lived…and then died.