Title: Time After Time
By: Moondreams
Chapter: Prologue
A crack of lightning streaked against the window as rain drops beat against the manor's stones. Inside a young man sat down in front of a battered writing desk. He stretched his long legs underneath and opened up a book. He quickly turned to a blank page. He stared down thoughtfully at the parchment page and twirled a quill in his fingers as he collected his thoughts. He then dipped the quill in his inkwell and started to write.
It was raining, a horrible storm like tonight's, and my thoughts drift unwillingly to the last battle. My last battle, the war against the Dark Lord wouldn't end until later. I had been scared as the lines started to form. The Death Eaters stretched before us like a large black snake. I had watched my friends as they stared into the stormy night. Each face set with determination and some with eagerness. I had felt like even more of a coward. My blood was running cold as was the rest of my body in the pouring rain. I caught a flash of red hair in the distance. I craned my neck to see, but it wasn't her. 'You should have told her' I had thought with disgust.
"You scared, mate?" asked a voice beside me. I turned to see Harry at my side. "Yeah," I told him truthfully. I remember him watching me for a moment. This was supposed to be our world's savior, the boy who could do almost anything with ease. The boy I had known for years. What makes you so different? I had wondered. "Me too," he told me quietly. I blinked with shock. Then, with a mighty yell, he lead us into battle with his wand aglow, lighting our way. My comrades cheered ready to drive out the dark menace. With my wand held tightly, I rushed foreword, trying to think of a couple of spells that would work. I shot off a couple actually hitting a Death Eater and sending him sailing backwards. I was so proud of myself, the something pierced through my leg. I crumpled down into the mud. I wasn't the only one, people lay dead around me, as blood blossomed from their chests and other vital parts. I had been hit with a death arrow, deadly sharp pieces of metal that rained down by the Death Eaters. The pain and the blood loss was causing my head to spin. For one second, I had done my part. I would never be a hero. And all this time, I never had the guts to tell Ginny that I loved her. With that, I lost consciousness.
I still have no idea how long I laid there in the mud, surrounded by the dead. I awoke to a foot nudging me in the side. I opened my eyes to be greeted by the most glorious blue sky. I was alive, by a miracle. I tried to move but pain raced though my body. "Help," I managed to call out weakly. Two men dressed in Ministry of Magic uniforms entered my view. "This one's alive," the younger one said happily as he knelt down and brought a canteen to my lips. The older one scowled down at me. "Don't get your hopes up for this one, Roberts. Death arrow, he'll be dead soon. Come on, we've got too many to take to the healers," he said with weariness with a twinge of annoyance. "We can't just leave him here," Roberts protested. "Come on, Roberts," the man growled as he walked away. No, don't go, I tried to say but no sound would come out. Roberts gave me a look of pity before he followed his senior. 'No, come back,' kept running through my head. But he never did. Surely, Harry would come looking for me. Or Hermione, she was good at remember things. They would notice if I wasn't among them, right?
The next time I woke up, I found myself face to face with a young man that would soon become my dearest friend. He smiled down at me wearily. A patch of dried blood stained his shoulder as well as his hands. "So you are awake. That's a good sign," he said holding a bit of metal. "I'm Nathaniel Grayson, healer." He introduced himself. He looked too young to be a healer. I thought him to be around 20. When I asked later, my guess wasn't far off. He'd be 23 in January. But to a 17 year old, that meant an adult. I looked around; I was in a large dimly lit room of gray stone. People were huddled together on the floor, some talking, others crying. "And you are?" he asked as he shoved his bangs out of his eyes. I am the one they left for dead. "I am nobody."
"Nice to meet you, Monsieur Nobody," Dr. Grayson had said with a warm smile. And so began my imprisonment in the one of Voldermort's dungeons.
His writing was interrupted with a soft knocking on the door. "Excuse me, Master," a high pitched voice said. He turned his attention to Diri, his house elf, and motioned her to come forward. "Yes?" he inquired as he rested his quill into his inkwell. "Diri came to say, there's someone here to see you, Sir," Diri told him as she watched with enormous globe like eyes. He scowled. If it was that wretched woman again... Laverne Gobsnockle was the most unpleasant woman he had ever encountered. She'd had her eyes set on Grayson Manor since he'd first arrived there. And she had made it clear that she did not approve of some stranger taking the manor and changing his last name to Grayson.
"Send them away," he said curtly. "But sir, Diri thinks you shouldn't. It's raining awfully bad sir," Diri said in protest. The young master sighed. She was right... as usual. "Fine, have the others prepare a bed chamber on the west wing and serve him whatever he wants," he said.
"It's a woman, sir."
"On second thought if it's Laverne, just toss her out," he said as he got up stiffly and walked to a mirror. "Visibli Entrance Hall," he commanded. The mirror started to fog. "Its not, it's a reporter named..." But a cry of disbelief cut her off. In the mirror a very wet and displeased red head was clearly visible.
"Ginny."