"Legacy of the Bloodline" (Sequel to The Dark Veil of Hatred…)
Chapter 1 – Reunions
Isn't it strange how the fortunes of men and women alike can change in the blink of an eye? Likewise, is it not just as perplexing how times themselves change, as do the thoughts and feelings of those living their day to day lives? Some of them, agreeably for the better… others for the worse, and some, without the scarcest idea as to why they're alive or what their true place or purpose in society is… That is the meaning of life. The fundamental existence that each and every person on this planet holds true with each other, regardless of friend or foe, relation or acquaintance, superior or underling. It is the same, as it always has been from one generation to the next, though only enhanced and altered by standards of thinking at the time of their conception… a marvel of nature, and time's continuity as it spins in cycles like that of a great wheel. All encompassing. Scholars might debate that we humans are but pawns in this never ending rotation. That nothing of our own doing or creation can affect the cycle of time, life and death. But is that really true? Perhaps… perhaps not.
A small minority of the more dignified and educated in social standing believe otherwise to this pre-ordained reality. Many people forget how short a time ago it was that this earth was contested by two separate species. Both of the same blood, and sharing the same, basic genetic structure that defined what it is to be human. Yet both were slightly different in minute, but distinctive respects… and both separated thousands of years ago, with hundreds of consecutive generations passing in turn afterwards. The result, a caste society, where one strain of humanity lived their daily lives completely oblivious to the other, that in truth, had silently, but vaguely watched them from behind magical barriers. The gift that had come with their separation. It was one of the greatest ironies of this age and many ages before and possibly yet to come. The caste, devoid of this magical ability, named the Muggle, had made do without the trappings or even the knowledge of magic's existence. Relying on their superior logic and technological means, they spawned cities kilometers across at their greatest distances, and uncovered many secrets of our universe that we so humbly share on this minute piece of rock. An achievement that is incredible to comprehend as it was once the case where they too could wield magic in all it's vaunted glory.
However… Watching in vague disinterest from beyond their magical barriers, the second of the two castes, this one aptly named the Wizard, stood reserved and tired in their own society, looking down upon their Muggle counterparts with lethargy and in some cases, disgusted prejudice. Holding within them the gifts of magic, the Wizard society lived and breathed in solidarity, convinced of it's supremacy over the Muggle race that had in truth, grown for many years out of check. This is not fault finding, but is evident of how power and influence can toy with a person's mind. Outside on the shallow surface, Wizard kind saw Muggles as a separate species. Totally and utterly different to wizards, they were to be hated, disregarded as people, or nurtured as children at best. Undeserving of any kind of respect. And yet, some wizards, who understood better than anyone the intelligence and significance of the muggle race, cowered from behind their barriers, living in denial of the capabilities of their counterparts. Maybe it was due to lack of interest, or perhaps it was fear, to this day scholars debate even over such a trivial question. But what was certain is that wizard society grew to the point where contact with muggles should cease at all costs. As generations past, it became common practice to simply ignore the race that shared the same planet with them, and sought confidence in letting the ever growing muggle population stew in their own tainted DNA on the other side of the ancient barrier magic, known in the common tongue as wards.
This is where our story begins. Two races… ignorant of each other to the point of madness, were suddenly, and violently, thrown together in the midst of sadistic plots, made solely by the dark wizard Grindelwald at the height of his power and influence. The shock of it all proving so overwhelming, that in sheer terror, both opposing parties lashed out at each other. Their fear driving them insane as people on either side of the conflict were slaughtered and killed, the spectacle not ending until the mental grip that Grindelwald held on both races was abruptly severed by the actions of a young, sixteen year old boy.
Born of wizard blood but forced through circumstance to live amongst his detestable muggle relatives, Harry James Potter was pulled back into his heritage at the tender age of eleven, rejoining the wizard world, and developing his magical skills until finally in his sixth year attending Hogwarts school of witch craft and wizardry, he suddenly became so powerful, that he killed Grindelwald and single handedly ended the war that had spread not only throughout Britain, but the rest of the known world as well.
The change wrought by this unexpected end of hostilities was immense. Without barriers separating the two races, each eyed each other warily for a while, suspicions as to what the other were thinking running high in their minds. But once the truth of the muggle incentive in the war became known, that it was in fact MAGICAL intervention that had brought about it's wrath on the stagnating wizard world, the muggles made no efforts to hold back a swift and utter apology, pledging whatever level of resources and man-power it took, so as to ensure relations between the two races would be peaceful and permanent.
It cannot be denied that thousands of years of ignorance could not simply be overlooked so easily, the wizards contemplating the idea with great reluctance and hesitation. Yet whatever voices there were against the muggle proposal, all were crushed underfoot, with a history making agreement of peace signed between the two races on the very field that so many members of either caste had lost their lives. And on that day… a new world was born.
Textbooks refer to this is as the moment that all fear, apprehension, pride and arrogance was removed from the wizard race. The two completely different societies were joyously combined, each supplementing the other society's weaknesses with inventions or capabilities that more often than not brought stunned silences of surprise or awe for every time that they were used. Knowledge passed down through generations was shared by the learned throughout libraries and academic societies. Awareness of their new friends and allies, spreading like wildfire within the classrooms of muggle and wizard students alike, amazement giving way to intrigue before the monumental step of acceptance finally took place. The new generation of muggle and wizard children, growing up in a wonderland of prosperity, education, and adventure. No advance can ever be so regarded in history as this, short of the great casting that had originally cut the two civilizations apart. With friends abound and advances continuing to better the two societies, the decision was made, and what was once two races… became one.
Naturally however, the truth of it all was covered up despite everyone's best intentions. Had the young Harry Potter not intervened when he did, there was no guessing as to how far Grindelwald's manipulating tyranny would have stretched. But what is certain, was that Harry, despite however raw and inexperienced in magic he was, had grown to become a true hero, not to only to wizards, but to the entire world as well. A symbol of the strength and courage that would define humanity in the years to come. A testament and idle for children to aspire and stories to be told… and yet, he was forgotten… Forgotten so ruthlessly and conveniently that generations to come would learn of the combined muggle, wizard peace, as merely an event destined to happen, without knowing so much as who it was owed, nor how it had come about. The unfairness and unjust nature of it all stabbed ruefully at those closest to him, who knew Harry's contribution and could do nothing to reverse public knowledge, having being silenced themselves by the stubborn nature of the combined muggle, wizard governments.
His dues were unpaid. Harry Potter, the boy who was a godsend to the light, and a cancer to the dark, was promptly cast aside as the world celebrated it's own good fortune and prosperity, convinced that it was the efforts of the whole, and not a skinny sixteen year old that had truly saved humanity… Sure enough, as the weeks went by, Harry became disillusioned to the new world. Left to stew whilst confined in a castle, something happened. A thought perhaps, had passed sinuously through his mind… And he disappeared. Lost as so many unnamed people had done before, all trace of Harry Potter ceased to exist save for the memories and emotions of the people he left behind. He was a martyr of the war, and was never seen again…
That… was Twenty years ago… now nothing more than a dim memory as the world population reached greater and greater heights, whilst never truly knowing as to who it owed it all. Again this touches on what scholars refer to as life. It is a cycle, that is unending and unbending. What has happened before, can and will happen again, as it has been in the past. It can be said that skeptics still debate over whether this is true or just merely a waste of time thinking about, but in answer to their ridiculous criticisms, one event happened that would prove beyond doubt that this wheel of life truly does exist. Not recognizable at first, and not an end to the greatness of the new world order, there was a beginning.
Oh yes… it was a beginning… Days before the annual celebration of the war's retiring veterans, the world bore host to one who'd not been seen for more than two decades. Unknowing as the public was, life continued as it always had since the peace agreement was signed so long ago. But still, that presence remained. Hardened by the remnants of a dying world giving way to the new, this person knew only that there were people he must see and things he must do before he could truly leave the pages of history. That perhaps he had but one last act to commit before he threw in the towel and retired to a peaceful life indefinitely. Compulsion it was. The inner desire to believe one's work was not yet finished, touched at this man. Perhaps it was for the best, as great deeds would occur with his coming. Whether good or bad it remained difficult to determine, but as said before, it was not an end… it was a beginning.
With mere days counting down to the much anticipated world remembrance day and the celebration that was sure to follow, the world saw in it's eyes once more the martyr that had brought it all about. The godsend of the light and the cancer of the dark. With the world preparing in naïve commemoration of old heroes…
The forgotten wizard, returned…
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A scarred hand was first to emerge from the glowing blue gateway as the transportation portal slowly opened in the International Carrying Center. One of over a thousand identical devices, the portal stood bolted to the reinforced concrete wall, the incredible pressures building on the gateway as it opened, near impossible to disregard for the safety of people traveling from country to country between them. In the twenty years that had passed since the international peace agreement was signed, Gate travel had become near common place, and from it's introduction, quickly overtook the old fashioned method of Apparating as the most popular form of transport over long distances, particularly for large numbers of people.
Shuddering briefly, the gateway fell silent after a moment as numerous stasis fields and shielding charms immediately took hold and stabilized the portal, the shaking mass of blue energy quickly stilling to a semi transparent film, of which to enter, could take you hundreds, perhaps even thousands of miles away. The hand continued to extend out of the gateway as it's owner, clad in long, flowing black robes, emerged from seeming nothingness, the figure's body integrating into a solid mass on contact with the air. It was a man. Though his entire body was hidden beneath the shrouding abyss of his cloak, strong, well toned features were well visible pressing against the dark linen from inside. Several young ladies, two of them clearly muggle whilst the others sporting robes of their own, quickly stared in his direction, giggling amongst themselves as they eyed the new comer clearing the portal, the blue glow of the gateway rippling suddenly before it flashed bright and disappeared, leaving only a round shell with the solid wall clearly visible behind it.
With his hood pulled low over his face, no one could see his eyes, nothing but an emotionless visage of a mouth visible within it's shadows. Yet when he turned to face the goggling stares of the young girls, their eyes widened in apprehension and quickly darted away, feeling as though they were well visible despite the hood. The man gave a detestable grunt as he turned his head the other way, his teeth grinding as he stared over the thousands of people that filled the football sized Carrying Center. Merely one of hundreds scattered around the world within the last twenty years, the center stood three levels high. Each level supporting a mixture of arrival or departure gateways, that activated every so often when a magical or technological request was made of it. Strange humming noises reverberated about the man as each portal opened itself in turn before disintegrating and readying itself for use again. Of all things made of mankind, gateway travel could be considered one of the more ingenious, though the figure showed no signs of being impressed by what he saw.
Gate travel was essentially the product of muggle ingenuity, combined with raw magic, to create a system of travel that was destined to span the world over. Despite his dark appearance though, the man seemed no more noticed than any other person traveling by gateway, who quite definitely looked like someone who didn't want to be noticed. Yet none of the milling thousands of people bustling about him carrying or levitating suitcases with them paid him any mind, all accepting that he was just another of the milling mass who'd arrived for whatever reason, most likely for Remembrance day celebrations, that were soon to commence there and then in muggle / wizard London, the new capital of the fledging world state, birthplace of the current world order. Perhaps this ruse would be a sensible disguise for his activities, the man didn't know. Yet as he glanced about himself he could not help but feel coldness towards the thousands of wizards and muggles wandering through the center, mindlessly enjoying the benefits peace offered between their two races. Something bothered him about that, but he would roll in his grave before he told anyone else he didn't trust, why that was so.
Sweeping out of the terminal in his long swishing robes, the man paid no heed to anyone who crossed his path, plowing through hordes of eager travelers to shouts of annoyance and anger to his back. He didn't care though, no matter what they thought. Mindless twits they were, but they would understand soon enough, though by that time it would be too late. Onwards he walked, the milling masses of people beginning to part for him against the natural tide of the crowd. Some gave him odd glances, others made rude gestures with their hands of which he didn't recognize, and there were even those, who scooted meekly out of his way the moment they breathed his presence. Soon enough, many more people may consider doing just the same thing. The thought was savage in his mind, but a true reflection of his thoughts at the time. As he walked on he could not help but stare himself at a small group of muggle and wizard school students, huddled together in a mass of grey uniforms and black robes, all paying stout attention to a handsome lady in finely pressed clothes before them, speaking in very informative tones.
'Gateway Taihendral,' she began aloud, the students hanging on her every word, 'Is one of the largest Carrier centers in Britain, servicing London and the international community.' Pens and quills immediately began jotting down information on their own, hovering behind their owners whilst writing furiously. 'Within these walls, over a thousand identical portal devices, transport hundreds of thousands of people every day with pure and clean, instantaneous travel. Derived from port key magic, gateway travel is a much safer alternative as it does not linger on the edge of the savage dimension known as Limbo. It is recorded in the days before Gateways, that during the war, many people traveling by port key were taken by Heliopaths before they could reach their destination. Naturally no one truly knows for sure, since none of these victims have returned to tell the tale. But port keys were a simple magic that has been outdone by this blending with muggle technology. Behold before you children, this is the past, present and future…'
The lady continued to ramble on as the man noticed some students furiously underline her last words. Past, present and… future? Turning away he continued onwards, the sounds of the class behind him lulling down to a buzzing fly, as he pushed and forced his way once more through the multitudes of people.
Of a sudden he stopped dead in his tracks, a football sized contraption of metal flying up to him and hovering near his face. He could define what seemed to be a painted clown face on it's exterior holding on it a joyous laugh as it floated there in front of him, blocking his way to the customs area. A small speaker rose out of a compartment in it's top and pointed at him, a robotic voice blaring from within.
'HI!' it roared, earning another grinding pair of teeth from the hooded man. This wasn't at all what he wanted to be delayed by, at best it looked like a flying garbage can with a speaker poking out of it's head. The hovering robot continued on it it's own annoying tone, 'We here at Telsacom corporation would just like to extend our warmest hand of friendship and welcome you fine traveler to Gateway Taihendral, International Carrier Center of London, the jewel city of the world. It's our pleasure to invite you on a scenic tour of this fantastic place and all the wonders that it and the Telsacom corporation has to offer you as a visitor to our wonderful city!'
The robot paused for a moment before another compartment opened at it's side and started firing off miniature fireworks, filling the air with a putrid white smoke as it zoomed about the man's head in wild circles, before it stopped and continued blaring it's nonsense.
'We at Telsacom corporation, would just like to remind you about Remembrance day celebrations that are due to commence within three days time. London will be the center piece of the giant fireworks display that is due to wow crowds even more so this year than any other previously, and that's just one of thousands of reasons to explore the city that I could explain to you RIGHT NOW!!!'
The man grunted detestably once more and pushed the contraption away with a good shove, sending it cart-wheeling through the air in uncontrolled spins.
'Some other time perhaps.' He spoke acidly to it, continuing on his walk. The robot hovered there momentarily behind before it seemed to gather it's courage again, and once more zoomed ahead, darting around so close in front of him that he almost ran into it. Black leather gloves couldn't hide his hands balling into fists, a sure sign his skin was going white underneath from the strain. The little robot's speaker rose up out of it's head once more.
'Don't forget to get a Telsacom pamphlet when you enter the city. We here at Telsacom corporation just love to hear your feedback!'
'I'd love to, except you are blocking my way… move, now.'
The robot moved closer still to the man's face, it's clown like expression looking more hideous than ever up close than the man could have predicted, and his anger spiked in frustration. It continued to shout at him.
'Don't forget, don't forget, collect pamphlets, Pamphlets, PAMPHLETS!'
And all of a sudden some invisible force smashed the robot together from both sides like a concertina, before another club of air crushed it again from the top and bottom. Again and again and again the machine compacted together from different angles, it's robotic voice getting more and more flexed and distorted, before glowing sparks began flying from it as it shorted out and dropped to the floor with a clang, drawing several people's attention. Almost as quickly as it started, the cloaked man grinded the machine into the tiled floor with his foot, before it once more lifted into the air, and flew spiraling to his right, rebounding off the wall into a rubbish bin. He grated his teeth in annoyance, at the people who deliberately pulled their eyes away from him and kept on walking. The man muttered beneath his breath.
'Pathetic machines!' he spoke, before he once again continued on, walking up to a counter labeled 'Customs', where a robed woman behind it was busily signing off people leaving the Carrier Center. The man watched closely as she dealt with another traveler in front of him, a short balding man who was wider than he was tall. Having his wand inspected and turned, doing out his pockets as requested. In a few moments he had packed his things and left, leaving him face to face with the smiling lady, who's pretty features seemed to droop slightly at not being able to see her client's face from beneath his hood.
'Good morning sir. Are you carrying any magical items upon your person?'
The man shook his head for a no.
'And are you carrying guns, knives, sharp objects or any other magically enhanced weapons?'
Again he shook his head, this time waving about his hands in gesture that he carried nothing with him, not even a suitcase. The lady nodded, a pen and paper floating next to her, ticked off the items as she spoke. The man's eyes could not help but hover over it. Immediately after, the lady reached out towards him with her hand.
'Passport please, it needs to be stamped before I can let you any further.'
The man reached into his pocket and revealed an aging booklet, sliding it onto the woman's desk, which she promptly seized and opened to the first page. A dozen or so stamps suddenly flew about her and frantically began pounding the pages on their own as she turned them over… then she stopped, and stared disbelievingly at one of the pages. The stamps themselves seemed to have stopped as well, and instead hovered around her head as if trying to get a good look at what she was staring at.
'Sir?' she asked suddenly, 'May I ask where it is you acquired this passport from?'
The man stayed silent, staring at the lady from beneath his hood. The woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
'Sir?!' she inquired again, this time a little more forcefully. The man continued to remain mute as her eyes studied him carefully, a slight bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. Quickly she turned to the last page, where her eyes widened in surprise. Looking once more from the booklet to the man in front of her, she threw the booklet back at him, of which he failed to catch, the paper rebounding off his chest and falling to the tiled floor, opened at the page where the name of the passport holder should be. Nothing was there but a large, "CLASSIFIED" sprawled across it in bold, red letters.
'That passport is military issue if you didn't realize sir. And judging by the date on it, it hasn't been updated to the current version for at least six years. ALL military passports must be updated EVERY year no matter what, so as to comply with international law, and since this one is not… I can only assume that you obtained it illegally. Therefore it is my duty to deny you entry to London, turn around whoever you are! Go back to where you came from!'
The man stood stone still, not moving a muscle as the young witch eyed him scathingly, but merely looked down at his dropped passport and picked it up, before once more putting it down on her desk in front of her.
'I feel you don't quite understand my situation Miss, I cannot be denied entry…' he took an aggressive step forwards, the lady arching back slightly in fear, 'I will NOT be denied entry. Do you understand?!'
'I'm calling security Mr!' and her hand darted for the telephone next to her, but only had time enough to grab the receiver before the man suddenly clicked his fingers in the air, the woman freezing mid motion, her eyes becoming unfocussed and looking cross eyed before realigning themselves, her hand slackening on the phone.
'I am afraid I cannot let you do that Miss, I will be allowed entry to London. Stamp my passport immediately thanks.'
For a moment the lady sat there confused, her eyes not truly looking at the black robed man before her, but staring off into the distance at something no one else could see.
'Yes…' she managed out after a while, her voice gone monotone as she continued to stare at nothing, 'Welcome to London sir…' and she trailed off, the stamps hurriedly pounding the final pages, before she picked up the aging booklet and hazily handed it back to him, looking lost and confused.
'Thankyou very much.' The man spoke once more, pushing the book into his robe pockets before continuing on through customs.
'Don't mention it…' the woman replied dreamily, though the man had already wandered too far away to hear...
Far from the sprawling chaos of the big city, isolated in the solitude of a quiet woodland, away from prying eyes, a young woman with striking red hair stood alone amidst the trees. Light shining through the woodland canopy in patches, radiated elegantly off her hair as she stood there silently, her eyes closed in contemplation, her breathing, slow and steady. Nothing could be heard around her but the sounds of nature. Ground dwelling animals rummaging around with their daily business, bird's wings beating the air. A sense of peace washed over her in a way that little else could. Peace and contentment… nothing could spoil this moment…
A sudden beeping noise immediately distracted her from apparent serenity, her eyes opening in annoyance as the irritating sound drove like piercing nails through her head. She breathed a regretful sigh.
'She better have a good reason for annoying me at this time of the day.' She muttered, scathingly, before she pulled back the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a small wrist watch. A little red light flickered on it every few seconds. Holding the watch near her face, she pressed a round button on it's side and spoke into it.
'This had better be good mum, I'd like to have some time to myself just once in a while. You know, just me and Genevieve. What do you want?'
All of a sudden, she drew back, a holographic image of an old lady's face with once red, but now graying hair, appearing before her, wearing what appeared to be a rather hurt looking scowl.
'Oh really Ginny, is that any way to speak to your poor old mother, after everything I've done for you?'
Ginny sighed again, her eyes slightly downcast with an image in her head of her mother with hands on hips in that way she always did when offended.
'Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I…'
The face staring at her raised a mollified eyebrow before shaking her head, cutting Ginny off.
'It's alright dear, I know you didn't mean anything by it. If anything, you're probably the most considerate person in the family. In all my years I haven't heard you put a foot wrong…'
This time it was Ginny's turn to raise an eyebrow, looking a tad more suspicious than usual. Her mother's face in the hologram flickered a little, her mouth working somewhat.
'…Well, not that much wrong at least. I guess I have to be politically correct. You know me… but, no, I should get the point. I'm sorry I'm pestering you again dear, especially since this is the only holiday you've got away from work at the Ministry and all… How's Genevieve?'
Ginny turned her head slightly, looking through the trees at a young girl, nearing her eleventh birthday, who skipped playfully through the foliage. She looked the spitting image of Ginny, but with hair a subtle blend of red and black, tied behind her head in a pony tail with a large red bow. Ginny smiled, proud of her daughter as she skipped about without a care in the world, unknown to her the horrors that her mother had witnessed in her lifetime. Warmth spread to Ginny's heart, as Genevieve looked up at her with those bright, green eyes and gave a cute curtsy, before turning about and running away through the trees… Those green eyes… those haunting eyes.
She turned back to her mother, who watched her patiently through the hologram.
'She's fine mum. She hasn't a care in the world, and is looking forward to Hogwarts. It isn't long until she'll be enrolled you know.'
Molly Weasley put on a proud smile, stretching from ear to ear as a silent tear rolled down her cheek.
'Oh yes, I'd almost forgotten. Dear me, how long it has been. Seems like only yesterday that it was you who was being waved off to Hogwarts. And now…' she sniffled slightly, '… now my grandchildren are leaving for it too. Oh Ginny you don't know how proud of you I am.'
Ginny could not help but shed a tear herself, and raised a quivering hand to the hologram, entwining it with that of her mother on the other side, before it passed through the technological illusion.
'Yes Ginny, you've made me a very proud woman indeed. You have raised a fine daughter. I only wish her father was able to see her live and grow. Oh… bless his soul… sometimes she looks so much like him… but, oh I'm sorry Ginny. I didn't mean to upset you. It's been too long I know, but he's still out there somewhere. You'll see him again I'm sure of it. Never lose faith.'
Ginny nodded to herself, though the memories still felt painful to think about. How much of his daughter's life had he missed. She counted the years in her head… all of them it seemed. Genevieve needed a male influence at home, yes she needed it so desperately indeed. Sometimes it even hurt to think on that, knowing how much of man her father was. Heroic… and forgotten.
'Don't worry mum,' she replied to the hologram, wiping away her tears, 'I'll never lose hope, I think of him every day… but at the same time, I don't think I'm the person I once was.'
Molly looked to her daughter with sympathy in her eyes, that proud look still evident in her eyes.
'You remind me of your father Ginny, when you know who was at power. How much I missed him when he was away… But never lose hope Ginny, never. Though your name may have changed, you're always a Weasley at heart. I just wanted you to remember that.'
Ginny smiled as the hologram disappeared, the red light on her watch switching off at last. Looking up around herself she admired the trees, standing so tall and resolute. They outlasted everything, and didn't need to worry about losing their loved ones, as she had so long ago. Sometimes is brought about pity in herself, other times, anger. But always there was that familiar sadness that came from living alone. Knowing that her bed was designed for two people instead of one. That one person who often cried herself to sleep in loneliness. How cold the nights had become since then.
Turning about she walked from the woods, her feet somehow guiding her to the walking track that led home. Her mind was now a hideous mish mash of depressing thoughts, though when the image of Genevieve came into head, somehow she felt better than before. It was useless she knew to grieve for the past, when her daughter was the future. She needed her mother to be strong for her at this time of need. Pretty soon she was headed for Hogwarts, as Ginny had done herself no less than twenty years ago. Though now she understand that Hogwarts was different than she'd remembered, because of the war and all… because of the intervention of the muggles. Sometimes she wished that there hadn't been a war, but looking about herself at the world today, she knew that neither race would have listened had they not crossed arms. But as with everything else, that was past. Only the future mattered to her now. Genevieve must be safely guided into her own life. That was all that required her concern.
Clearing the trees out into a wide expanse of green fields, she looked ahead to her house, a small cottage surrounded by garden beds, overflowing with colorful life abundant. It was a gift to her from her parents when she left The Burrow, something afforded to her as being the only girl of the house. Her mother had a lot of say in that decision, her father went along with whatever she'd said at the time. And now she was thankful for it. Casting her eyes over the brown, thatched roof, which seemed a rarity in this day and age, she wandered around towards the front door of the house. Genevieve had come home earlier, there was no doubt she would be inside, looking for lemonade. Of all things she seemed attached to the muggle soft drink, and it was a favorite of hers whenever the days became just a little too hot. Most likely she was rummaging through the fridge right now to find where she'd hidden the bottle. Such a clever girl she was…
As she rounded the corner and neared the front door, Ginny's mouth dropped open in shock... Scorched with flame and still emitting smoke, the front door laid violently blasted inwards, only splinters of wood hanging loosely from the frame where the ornately carved entrance had once been. Stark terror quickly engulfed her, a single thought presently speeding through Ginny's mind… Genevieve! Quickly Ginny rushed inside, withdrawing her wand without realizing it and pointing it around corners as she searched the house from top to bottom. Her heart rate increased in fear and trepidation. Oh if something had happened to Genevieve…
Slowly she inched herself about a doorframe, into the girl's room. Pretty, pink wallpaper covered the walls in strips. Flowers and fairies abundant over them as Ginny and her daughter had designed it when Genevieve had been only six years old. A wide, window letting in light from the far end of the room often let in the morning rise. That too was covered by ornately woven curtains that hung loosely to either end, tied at the middle. Scanning the room over her eyes swept over the furniture inside…
'Genevieve?…' she called hopefully. A shallow breathing answered her.
'I'm in here mother.' The young girl replied from a corner, seeming a little more shaken than usual. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.
'Oh thank goodness you're safe. Come to me please…' but surprisingly, Genevieve shook her head vigorously, her eyes sidling to her left where there didn't appear to be anything nearby.
'I… I can't.' she spoke softly, her eyes not meeting her mother's, '… he won't let me.'
Ginny froze where she stood and raised her wand fearfully, just in time to see a dark figure suddenly materialize out of thin air at Genevieve's side, a black cloak pulled over his body and a low hood drooping down over his eyes. Only his mouth was visible, straight and emotionless. Ginny felt sure however that he was staring right at her, piercing eyes melting into her head. She pointed her wand viciously towards him, her teeth gritted so tightly they grinded together.
'Get away from her… or I swear on my grave I'll kill you where you stand!' she demanded, her hands trembling on her wand hilt in desperation. The man stared back, Ginny was sure of it, but acted not on the feisty woman's insistence. Instead, he moved a black gloved hand over the young girl and placed it on Genevieve's right shoulder. The little girl visibly paled, whilst something close to a smile hinted at the stranger's mouth. Ginny's fear and temper sky rocketed.
'You were warned! STUPEFY!' she roared, a red, winding spell blasting from her wand towards the cloaked man… But something happened then that Ginny just couldn't fathom. The stranger reacted quickly, and put up his free hand, the spell hitting it and rebounding off into the ceiling with a bang, apparently having no effect on him at all. Then with a twist of his fingers, Ginny's wand flew from her hands, into the strangers black gloves. Another larger bead of sweat rolled down the side of Ginny's face.
'I swear…if you hurt I'm going to…' she couldn't quite think of what to say, her mind was nothing but a blur of fear. The stranger smiled beneath his hood, a small mark of satisfaction at the red haired woman's confusion.
'What will you do exactly?' the man asked her questionably, leaving Ginny surprised and lost for words. She stuttered incoherently, even as Genevieve looked between the two curiously, something sparking in her head. Ginny couldn't tell, but the color seemed to have returned to the girl's face. She no longer seemed as scared. Her though, she was petrified with fear, though it was a dull fear.
'You don't know, do you?' he asked again, seeming more of a statement than a question. Ginny just stood there silently, her mouth working. Without her wand, here truly wasn't anything she could do… they were both at his mercy.
'Do not fear… I mean no harm to you. As I mean no harm to your daughter either. I'm sorry if I scared you with the front door, but locks do little but annoy me these days. I'm not as patient as I once was…'
Ginny stared back disbelievingly, her teeth still gritted in fear and defiance. The man's mouth tightened a little.
'You don't believe me… do you? I thought not. Here then, take your daughter back, and take your wand as well. If it suits you, strike me down and I'll do nothing to save myself. If anything I deserve it for scaring you so.' And he pushed Genevieve towards Ginny, throwing her wand back to her as well, which she caught off handedly.
Raising the magical piece of wood at the man, she knew she wanted to kill him. Yes he did deserve it… But then again, had he truly meant harm to them, he could quite easily have killed them both a hundred times over in the time he spent just standing there, and it appeared he was a far greater wizard than she were a witch. Slowly, reluctantly… she lowered her wand, receiving a smile in return from the hooded man.
'Who are you?' she asked, still keeping a firm hold on her wand handle. The man didn't answer her straight away.
'I wonder… would you have indeed struck me down then? Would you have truly attacked your own husband?'
What felt to her like a club, struck at her mind. HUSBAND?! What was he talking about? What was he…? A sudden thought passed through her, and she took a tentative step forwards.
'No… it can't be… It's just impossible… Is it really you?! After all this time is it really you?' the man stood stone still, eyeing her as she made steps towards him, 'You can't be, just can't be… But can you……… Harry?'
Raising his two hands, the man reached for his hood, and pulled the black fabric away from his head, revealing an aged but indisputable face. With circular glasses, deep green eyes, and finally, the long, jagged lightening bolt scar on his forehead, Harry stood before her, a tear in his eye and a smile stretched across his face from ear to ear, Ginny almost could not help but be overcome by happiness. How she had dreamed of this reunion. She'd played it in her head over and over when the nights were too lonely, when the bed was too cold. Without warning she leaped at him, flinging her arms around his broad shoulders as she wept ceaselessly.
'Oh Harry, HARRY!' she cried, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks as her husband wrapped her up with his strong hands, whispering into her ear.
'I'm so sorry Ginny. You don't know how sorry I am. All the years I haven't been here for you. Oh so long. Eleven years for us hasn't it been? Twenty for everyone else… I think people scarcely remember my existence after so long. You just don't know how happy I am to be back Ginny. You just don't know!'
Ginny held him tightly as though he were about to disappear from her again, wishing that this one moment of bliss could last forever.
'My work in the outside world is over now Ginny, I'll never be away from you again… EVER, I promise!'
And with that, Ginny smiled feeling happier than she had ever felt for many years. He was going to stay home from now on, she thought at that moment, and he was never leaving again. It felt like old times once more… so happy, so blissful.
Meanwhile, just across the room, Genevieve looked to her mother as she held the stranger as tight as she could. Confusion settled in her mind, but his name seemed oddly familiar, as though she'd known it since birth but never spoken of it. With her mouth half open she looked to the man who likewise looked back to her, two pairs of green eyes meeting together as one, she whispered one silent word beneath her breath…
'Dad?…'
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There, chapter 1 down and the story is well on it's way to greatness. Yes it's me Richard again. I hope you like ths new story I'm writing, sequel to the first. This chapter goes ahead some twenty years into the future if you didn't read it, and the world has changed much in that time. I've no idea what my loyal reviewers were thinking the sequel would be like, but I guarantee you it will be better than the first story by a great margin. Anyway, happy reading all, I hope this chapter suits you all well.
Regards: Richard
Chapter 1 – Reunions
Isn't it strange how the fortunes of men and women alike can change in the blink of an eye? Likewise, is it not just as perplexing how times themselves change, as do the thoughts and feelings of those living their day to day lives? Some of them, agreeably for the better… others for the worse, and some, without the scarcest idea as to why they're alive or what their true place or purpose in society is… That is the meaning of life. The fundamental existence that each and every person on this planet holds true with each other, regardless of friend or foe, relation or acquaintance, superior or underling. It is the same, as it always has been from one generation to the next, though only enhanced and altered by standards of thinking at the time of their conception… a marvel of nature, and time's continuity as it spins in cycles like that of a great wheel. All encompassing. Scholars might debate that we humans are but pawns in this never ending rotation. That nothing of our own doing or creation can affect the cycle of time, life and death. But is that really true? Perhaps… perhaps not.
A small minority of the more dignified and educated in social standing believe otherwise to this pre-ordained reality. Many people forget how short a time ago it was that this earth was contested by two separate species. Both of the same blood, and sharing the same, basic genetic structure that defined what it is to be human. Yet both were slightly different in minute, but distinctive respects… and both separated thousands of years ago, with hundreds of consecutive generations passing in turn afterwards. The result, a caste society, where one strain of humanity lived their daily lives completely oblivious to the other, that in truth, had silently, but vaguely watched them from behind magical barriers. The gift that had come with their separation. It was one of the greatest ironies of this age and many ages before and possibly yet to come. The caste, devoid of this magical ability, named the Muggle, had made do without the trappings or even the knowledge of magic's existence. Relying on their superior logic and technological means, they spawned cities kilometers across at their greatest distances, and uncovered many secrets of our universe that we so humbly share on this minute piece of rock. An achievement that is incredible to comprehend as it was once the case where they too could wield magic in all it's vaunted glory.
However… Watching in vague disinterest from beyond their magical barriers, the second of the two castes, this one aptly named the Wizard, stood reserved and tired in their own society, looking down upon their Muggle counterparts with lethargy and in some cases, disgusted prejudice. Holding within them the gifts of magic, the Wizard society lived and breathed in solidarity, convinced of it's supremacy over the Muggle race that had in truth, grown for many years out of check. This is not fault finding, but is evident of how power and influence can toy with a person's mind. Outside on the shallow surface, Wizard kind saw Muggles as a separate species. Totally and utterly different to wizards, they were to be hated, disregarded as people, or nurtured as children at best. Undeserving of any kind of respect. And yet, some wizards, who understood better than anyone the intelligence and significance of the muggle race, cowered from behind their barriers, living in denial of the capabilities of their counterparts. Maybe it was due to lack of interest, or perhaps it was fear, to this day scholars debate even over such a trivial question. But what was certain is that wizard society grew to the point where contact with muggles should cease at all costs. As generations past, it became common practice to simply ignore the race that shared the same planet with them, and sought confidence in letting the ever growing muggle population stew in their own tainted DNA on the other side of the ancient barrier magic, known in the common tongue as wards.
This is where our story begins. Two races… ignorant of each other to the point of madness, were suddenly, and violently, thrown together in the midst of sadistic plots, made solely by the dark wizard Grindelwald at the height of his power and influence. The shock of it all proving so overwhelming, that in sheer terror, both opposing parties lashed out at each other. Their fear driving them insane as people on either side of the conflict were slaughtered and killed, the spectacle not ending until the mental grip that Grindelwald held on both races was abruptly severed by the actions of a young, sixteen year old boy.
Born of wizard blood but forced through circumstance to live amongst his detestable muggle relatives, Harry James Potter was pulled back into his heritage at the tender age of eleven, rejoining the wizard world, and developing his magical skills until finally in his sixth year attending Hogwarts school of witch craft and wizardry, he suddenly became so powerful, that he killed Grindelwald and single handedly ended the war that had spread not only throughout Britain, but the rest of the known world as well.
The change wrought by this unexpected end of hostilities was immense. Without barriers separating the two races, each eyed each other warily for a while, suspicions as to what the other were thinking running high in their minds. But once the truth of the muggle incentive in the war became known, that it was in fact MAGICAL intervention that had brought about it's wrath on the stagnating wizard world, the muggles made no efforts to hold back a swift and utter apology, pledging whatever level of resources and man-power it took, so as to ensure relations between the two races would be peaceful and permanent.
It cannot be denied that thousands of years of ignorance could not simply be overlooked so easily, the wizards contemplating the idea with great reluctance and hesitation. Yet whatever voices there were against the muggle proposal, all were crushed underfoot, with a history making agreement of peace signed between the two races on the very field that so many members of either caste had lost their lives. And on that day… a new world was born.
Textbooks refer to this is as the moment that all fear, apprehension, pride and arrogance was removed from the wizard race. The two completely different societies were joyously combined, each supplementing the other society's weaknesses with inventions or capabilities that more often than not brought stunned silences of surprise or awe for every time that they were used. Knowledge passed down through generations was shared by the learned throughout libraries and academic societies. Awareness of their new friends and allies, spreading like wildfire within the classrooms of muggle and wizard students alike, amazement giving way to intrigue before the monumental step of acceptance finally took place. The new generation of muggle and wizard children, growing up in a wonderland of prosperity, education, and adventure. No advance can ever be so regarded in history as this, short of the great casting that had originally cut the two civilizations apart. With friends abound and advances continuing to better the two societies, the decision was made, and what was once two races… became one.
Naturally however, the truth of it all was covered up despite everyone's best intentions. Had the young Harry Potter not intervened when he did, there was no guessing as to how far Grindelwald's manipulating tyranny would have stretched. But what is certain, was that Harry, despite however raw and inexperienced in magic he was, had grown to become a true hero, not to only to wizards, but to the entire world as well. A symbol of the strength and courage that would define humanity in the years to come. A testament and idle for children to aspire and stories to be told… and yet, he was forgotten… Forgotten so ruthlessly and conveniently that generations to come would learn of the combined muggle, wizard peace, as merely an event destined to happen, without knowing so much as who it was owed, nor how it had come about. The unfairness and unjust nature of it all stabbed ruefully at those closest to him, who knew Harry's contribution and could do nothing to reverse public knowledge, having being silenced themselves by the stubborn nature of the combined muggle, wizard governments.
His dues were unpaid. Harry Potter, the boy who was a godsend to the light, and a cancer to the dark, was promptly cast aside as the world celebrated it's own good fortune and prosperity, convinced that it was the efforts of the whole, and not a skinny sixteen year old that had truly saved humanity… Sure enough, as the weeks went by, Harry became disillusioned to the new world. Left to stew whilst confined in a castle, something happened. A thought perhaps, had passed sinuously through his mind… And he disappeared. Lost as so many unnamed people had done before, all trace of Harry Potter ceased to exist save for the memories and emotions of the people he left behind. He was a martyr of the war, and was never seen again…
That… was Twenty years ago… now nothing more than a dim memory as the world population reached greater and greater heights, whilst never truly knowing as to who it owed it all. Again this touches on what scholars refer to as life. It is a cycle, that is unending and unbending. What has happened before, can and will happen again, as it has been in the past. It can be said that skeptics still debate over whether this is true or just merely a waste of time thinking about, but in answer to their ridiculous criticisms, one event happened that would prove beyond doubt that this wheel of life truly does exist. Not recognizable at first, and not an end to the greatness of the new world order, there was a beginning.
Oh yes… it was a beginning… Days before the annual celebration of the war's retiring veterans, the world bore host to one who'd not been seen for more than two decades. Unknowing as the public was, life continued as it always had since the peace agreement was signed so long ago. But still, that presence remained. Hardened by the remnants of a dying world giving way to the new, this person knew only that there were people he must see and things he must do before he could truly leave the pages of history. That perhaps he had but one last act to commit before he threw in the towel and retired to a peaceful life indefinitely. Compulsion it was. The inner desire to believe one's work was not yet finished, touched at this man. Perhaps it was for the best, as great deeds would occur with his coming. Whether good or bad it remained difficult to determine, but as said before, it was not an end… it was a beginning.
With mere days counting down to the much anticipated world remembrance day and the celebration that was sure to follow, the world saw in it's eyes once more the martyr that had brought it all about. The godsend of the light and the cancer of the dark. With the world preparing in naïve commemoration of old heroes…
The forgotten wizard, returned…
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A scarred hand was first to emerge from the glowing blue gateway as the transportation portal slowly opened in the International Carrying Center. One of over a thousand identical devices, the portal stood bolted to the reinforced concrete wall, the incredible pressures building on the gateway as it opened, near impossible to disregard for the safety of people traveling from country to country between them. In the twenty years that had passed since the international peace agreement was signed, Gate travel had become near common place, and from it's introduction, quickly overtook the old fashioned method of Apparating as the most popular form of transport over long distances, particularly for large numbers of people.
Shuddering briefly, the gateway fell silent after a moment as numerous stasis fields and shielding charms immediately took hold and stabilized the portal, the shaking mass of blue energy quickly stilling to a semi transparent film, of which to enter, could take you hundreds, perhaps even thousands of miles away. The hand continued to extend out of the gateway as it's owner, clad in long, flowing black robes, emerged from seeming nothingness, the figure's body integrating into a solid mass on contact with the air. It was a man. Though his entire body was hidden beneath the shrouding abyss of his cloak, strong, well toned features were well visible pressing against the dark linen from inside. Several young ladies, two of them clearly muggle whilst the others sporting robes of their own, quickly stared in his direction, giggling amongst themselves as they eyed the new comer clearing the portal, the blue glow of the gateway rippling suddenly before it flashed bright and disappeared, leaving only a round shell with the solid wall clearly visible behind it.
With his hood pulled low over his face, no one could see his eyes, nothing but an emotionless visage of a mouth visible within it's shadows. Yet when he turned to face the goggling stares of the young girls, their eyes widened in apprehension and quickly darted away, feeling as though they were well visible despite the hood. The man gave a detestable grunt as he turned his head the other way, his teeth grinding as he stared over the thousands of people that filled the football sized Carrying Center. Merely one of hundreds scattered around the world within the last twenty years, the center stood three levels high. Each level supporting a mixture of arrival or departure gateways, that activated every so often when a magical or technological request was made of it. Strange humming noises reverberated about the man as each portal opened itself in turn before disintegrating and readying itself for use again. Of all things made of mankind, gateway travel could be considered one of the more ingenious, though the figure showed no signs of being impressed by what he saw.
Gate travel was essentially the product of muggle ingenuity, combined with raw magic, to create a system of travel that was destined to span the world over. Despite his dark appearance though, the man seemed no more noticed than any other person traveling by gateway, who quite definitely looked like someone who didn't want to be noticed. Yet none of the milling thousands of people bustling about him carrying or levitating suitcases with them paid him any mind, all accepting that he was just another of the milling mass who'd arrived for whatever reason, most likely for Remembrance day celebrations, that were soon to commence there and then in muggle / wizard London, the new capital of the fledging world state, birthplace of the current world order. Perhaps this ruse would be a sensible disguise for his activities, the man didn't know. Yet as he glanced about himself he could not help but feel coldness towards the thousands of wizards and muggles wandering through the center, mindlessly enjoying the benefits peace offered between their two races. Something bothered him about that, but he would roll in his grave before he told anyone else he didn't trust, why that was so.
Sweeping out of the terminal in his long swishing robes, the man paid no heed to anyone who crossed his path, plowing through hordes of eager travelers to shouts of annoyance and anger to his back. He didn't care though, no matter what they thought. Mindless twits they were, but they would understand soon enough, though by that time it would be too late. Onwards he walked, the milling masses of people beginning to part for him against the natural tide of the crowd. Some gave him odd glances, others made rude gestures with their hands of which he didn't recognize, and there were even those, who scooted meekly out of his way the moment they breathed his presence. Soon enough, many more people may consider doing just the same thing. The thought was savage in his mind, but a true reflection of his thoughts at the time. As he walked on he could not help but stare himself at a small group of muggle and wizard school students, huddled together in a mass of grey uniforms and black robes, all paying stout attention to a handsome lady in finely pressed clothes before them, speaking in very informative tones.
'Gateway Taihendral,' she began aloud, the students hanging on her every word, 'Is one of the largest Carrier centers in Britain, servicing London and the international community.' Pens and quills immediately began jotting down information on their own, hovering behind their owners whilst writing furiously. 'Within these walls, over a thousand identical portal devices, transport hundreds of thousands of people every day with pure and clean, instantaneous travel. Derived from port key magic, gateway travel is a much safer alternative as it does not linger on the edge of the savage dimension known as Limbo. It is recorded in the days before Gateways, that during the war, many people traveling by port key were taken by Heliopaths before they could reach their destination. Naturally no one truly knows for sure, since none of these victims have returned to tell the tale. But port keys were a simple magic that has been outdone by this blending with muggle technology. Behold before you children, this is the past, present and future…'
The lady continued to ramble on as the man noticed some students furiously underline her last words. Past, present and… future? Turning away he continued onwards, the sounds of the class behind him lulling down to a buzzing fly, as he pushed and forced his way once more through the multitudes of people.
Of a sudden he stopped dead in his tracks, a football sized contraption of metal flying up to him and hovering near his face. He could define what seemed to be a painted clown face on it's exterior holding on it a joyous laugh as it floated there in front of him, blocking his way to the customs area. A small speaker rose out of a compartment in it's top and pointed at him, a robotic voice blaring from within.
'HI!' it roared, earning another grinding pair of teeth from the hooded man. This wasn't at all what he wanted to be delayed by, at best it looked like a flying garbage can with a speaker poking out of it's head. The hovering robot continued on it it's own annoying tone, 'We here at Telsacom corporation would just like to extend our warmest hand of friendship and welcome you fine traveler to Gateway Taihendral, International Carrier Center of London, the jewel city of the world. It's our pleasure to invite you on a scenic tour of this fantastic place and all the wonders that it and the Telsacom corporation has to offer you as a visitor to our wonderful city!'
The robot paused for a moment before another compartment opened at it's side and started firing off miniature fireworks, filling the air with a putrid white smoke as it zoomed about the man's head in wild circles, before it stopped and continued blaring it's nonsense.
'We at Telsacom corporation, would just like to remind you about Remembrance day celebrations that are due to commence within three days time. London will be the center piece of the giant fireworks display that is due to wow crowds even more so this year than any other previously, and that's just one of thousands of reasons to explore the city that I could explain to you RIGHT NOW!!!'
The man grunted detestably once more and pushed the contraption away with a good shove, sending it cart-wheeling through the air in uncontrolled spins.
'Some other time perhaps.' He spoke acidly to it, continuing on his walk. The robot hovered there momentarily behind before it seemed to gather it's courage again, and once more zoomed ahead, darting around so close in front of him that he almost ran into it. Black leather gloves couldn't hide his hands balling into fists, a sure sign his skin was going white underneath from the strain. The little robot's speaker rose up out of it's head once more.
'Don't forget to get a Telsacom pamphlet when you enter the city. We here at Telsacom corporation just love to hear your feedback!'
'I'd love to, except you are blocking my way… move, now.'
The robot moved closer still to the man's face, it's clown like expression looking more hideous than ever up close than the man could have predicted, and his anger spiked in frustration. It continued to shout at him.
'Don't forget, don't forget, collect pamphlets, Pamphlets, PAMPHLETS!'
And all of a sudden some invisible force smashed the robot together from both sides like a concertina, before another club of air crushed it again from the top and bottom. Again and again and again the machine compacted together from different angles, it's robotic voice getting more and more flexed and distorted, before glowing sparks began flying from it as it shorted out and dropped to the floor with a clang, drawing several people's attention. Almost as quickly as it started, the cloaked man grinded the machine into the tiled floor with his foot, before it once more lifted into the air, and flew spiraling to his right, rebounding off the wall into a rubbish bin. He grated his teeth in annoyance, at the people who deliberately pulled their eyes away from him and kept on walking. The man muttered beneath his breath.
'Pathetic machines!' he spoke, before he once again continued on, walking up to a counter labeled 'Customs', where a robed woman behind it was busily signing off people leaving the Carrier Center. The man watched closely as she dealt with another traveler in front of him, a short balding man who was wider than he was tall. Having his wand inspected and turned, doing out his pockets as requested. In a few moments he had packed his things and left, leaving him face to face with the smiling lady, who's pretty features seemed to droop slightly at not being able to see her client's face from beneath his hood.
'Good morning sir. Are you carrying any magical items upon your person?'
The man shook his head for a no.
'And are you carrying guns, knives, sharp objects or any other magically enhanced weapons?'
Again he shook his head, this time waving about his hands in gesture that he carried nothing with him, not even a suitcase. The lady nodded, a pen and paper floating next to her, ticked off the items as she spoke. The man's eyes could not help but hover over it. Immediately after, the lady reached out towards him with her hand.
'Passport please, it needs to be stamped before I can let you any further.'
The man reached into his pocket and revealed an aging booklet, sliding it onto the woman's desk, which she promptly seized and opened to the first page. A dozen or so stamps suddenly flew about her and frantically began pounding the pages on their own as she turned them over… then she stopped, and stared disbelievingly at one of the pages. The stamps themselves seemed to have stopped as well, and instead hovered around her head as if trying to get a good look at what she was staring at.
'Sir?' she asked suddenly, 'May I ask where it is you acquired this passport from?'
The man stayed silent, staring at the lady from beneath his hood. The woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
'Sir?!' she inquired again, this time a little more forcefully. The man continued to remain mute as her eyes studied him carefully, a slight bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. Quickly she turned to the last page, where her eyes widened in surprise. Looking once more from the booklet to the man in front of her, she threw the booklet back at him, of which he failed to catch, the paper rebounding off his chest and falling to the tiled floor, opened at the page where the name of the passport holder should be. Nothing was there but a large, "CLASSIFIED" sprawled across it in bold, red letters.
'That passport is military issue if you didn't realize sir. And judging by the date on it, it hasn't been updated to the current version for at least six years. ALL military passports must be updated EVERY year no matter what, so as to comply with international law, and since this one is not… I can only assume that you obtained it illegally. Therefore it is my duty to deny you entry to London, turn around whoever you are! Go back to where you came from!'
The man stood stone still, not moving a muscle as the young witch eyed him scathingly, but merely looked down at his dropped passport and picked it up, before once more putting it down on her desk in front of her.
'I feel you don't quite understand my situation Miss, I cannot be denied entry…' he took an aggressive step forwards, the lady arching back slightly in fear, 'I will NOT be denied entry. Do you understand?!'
'I'm calling security Mr!' and her hand darted for the telephone next to her, but only had time enough to grab the receiver before the man suddenly clicked his fingers in the air, the woman freezing mid motion, her eyes becoming unfocussed and looking cross eyed before realigning themselves, her hand slackening on the phone.
'I am afraid I cannot let you do that Miss, I will be allowed entry to London. Stamp my passport immediately thanks.'
For a moment the lady sat there confused, her eyes not truly looking at the black robed man before her, but staring off into the distance at something no one else could see.
'Yes…' she managed out after a while, her voice gone monotone as she continued to stare at nothing, 'Welcome to London sir…' and she trailed off, the stamps hurriedly pounding the final pages, before she picked up the aging booklet and hazily handed it back to him, looking lost and confused.
'Thankyou very much.' The man spoke once more, pushing the book into his robe pockets before continuing on through customs.
'Don't mention it…' the woman replied dreamily, though the man had already wandered too far away to hear...
Far from the sprawling chaos of the big city, isolated in the solitude of a quiet woodland, away from prying eyes, a young woman with striking red hair stood alone amidst the trees. Light shining through the woodland canopy in patches, radiated elegantly off her hair as she stood there silently, her eyes closed in contemplation, her breathing, slow and steady. Nothing could be heard around her but the sounds of nature. Ground dwelling animals rummaging around with their daily business, bird's wings beating the air. A sense of peace washed over her in a way that little else could. Peace and contentment… nothing could spoil this moment…
A sudden beeping noise immediately distracted her from apparent serenity, her eyes opening in annoyance as the irritating sound drove like piercing nails through her head. She breathed a regretful sigh.
'She better have a good reason for annoying me at this time of the day.' She muttered, scathingly, before she pulled back the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a small wrist watch. A little red light flickered on it every few seconds. Holding the watch near her face, she pressed a round button on it's side and spoke into it.
'This had better be good mum, I'd like to have some time to myself just once in a while. You know, just me and Genevieve. What do you want?'
All of a sudden, she drew back, a holographic image of an old lady's face with once red, but now graying hair, appearing before her, wearing what appeared to be a rather hurt looking scowl.
'Oh really Ginny, is that any way to speak to your poor old mother, after everything I've done for you?'
Ginny sighed again, her eyes slightly downcast with an image in her head of her mother with hands on hips in that way she always did when offended.
'Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I…'
The face staring at her raised a mollified eyebrow before shaking her head, cutting Ginny off.
'It's alright dear, I know you didn't mean anything by it. If anything, you're probably the most considerate person in the family. In all my years I haven't heard you put a foot wrong…'
This time it was Ginny's turn to raise an eyebrow, looking a tad more suspicious than usual. Her mother's face in the hologram flickered a little, her mouth working somewhat.
'…Well, not that much wrong at least. I guess I have to be politically correct. You know me… but, no, I should get the point. I'm sorry I'm pestering you again dear, especially since this is the only holiday you've got away from work at the Ministry and all… How's Genevieve?'
Ginny turned her head slightly, looking through the trees at a young girl, nearing her eleventh birthday, who skipped playfully through the foliage. She looked the spitting image of Ginny, but with hair a subtle blend of red and black, tied behind her head in a pony tail with a large red bow. Ginny smiled, proud of her daughter as she skipped about without a care in the world, unknown to her the horrors that her mother had witnessed in her lifetime. Warmth spread to Ginny's heart, as Genevieve looked up at her with those bright, green eyes and gave a cute curtsy, before turning about and running away through the trees… Those green eyes… those haunting eyes.
She turned back to her mother, who watched her patiently through the hologram.
'She's fine mum. She hasn't a care in the world, and is looking forward to Hogwarts. It isn't long until she'll be enrolled you know.'
Molly Weasley put on a proud smile, stretching from ear to ear as a silent tear rolled down her cheek.
'Oh yes, I'd almost forgotten. Dear me, how long it has been. Seems like only yesterday that it was you who was being waved off to Hogwarts. And now…' she sniffled slightly, '… now my grandchildren are leaving for it too. Oh Ginny you don't know how proud of you I am.'
Ginny could not help but shed a tear herself, and raised a quivering hand to the hologram, entwining it with that of her mother on the other side, before it passed through the technological illusion.
'Yes Ginny, you've made me a very proud woman indeed. You have raised a fine daughter. I only wish her father was able to see her live and grow. Oh… bless his soul… sometimes she looks so much like him… but, oh I'm sorry Ginny. I didn't mean to upset you. It's been too long I know, but he's still out there somewhere. You'll see him again I'm sure of it. Never lose faith.'
Ginny nodded to herself, though the memories still felt painful to think about. How much of his daughter's life had he missed. She counted the years in her head… all of them it seemed. Genevieve needed a male influence at home, yes she needed it so desperately indeed. Sometimes it even hurt to think on that, knowing how much of man her father was. Heroic… and forgotten.
'Don't worry mum,' she replied to the hologram, wiping away her tears, 'I'll never lose hope, I think of him every day… but at the same time, I don't think I'm the person I once was.'
Molly looked to her daughter with sympathy in her eyes, that proud look still evident in her eyes.
'You remind me of your father Ginny, when you know who was at power. How much I missed him when he was away… But never lose hope Ginny, never. Though your name may have changed, you're always a Weasley at heart. I just wanted you to remember that.'
Ginny smiled as the hologram disappeared, the red light on her watch switching off at last. Looking up around herself she admired the trees, standing so tall and resolute. They outlasted everything, and didn't need to worry about losing their loved ones, as she had so long ago. Sometimes is brought about pity in herself, other times, anger. But always there was that familiar sadness that came from living alone. Knowing that her bed was designed for two people instead of one. That one person who often cried herself to sleep in loneliness. How cold the nights had become since then.
Turning about she walked from the woods, her feet somehow guiding her to the walking track that led home. Her mind was now a hideous mish mash of depressing thoughts, though when the image of Genevieve came into head, somehow she felt better than before. It was useless she knew to grieve for the past, when her daughter was the future. She needed her mother to be strong for her at this time of need. Pretty soon she was headed for Hogwarts, as Ginny had done herself no less than twenty years ago. Though now she understand that Hogwarts was different than she'd remembered, because of the war and all… because of the intervention of the muggles. Sometimes she wished that there hadn't been a war, but looking about herself at the world today, she knew that neither race would have listened had they not crossed arms. But as with everything else, that was past. Only the future mattered to her now. Genevieve must be safely guided into her own life. That was all that required her concern.
Clearing the trees out into a wide expanse of green fields, she looked ahead to her house, a small cottage surrounded by garden beds, overflowing with colorful life abundant. It was a gift to her from her parents when she left The Burrow, something afforded to her as being the only girl of the house. Her mother had a lot of say in that decision, her father went along with whatever she'd said at the time. And now she was thankful for it. Casting her eyes over the brown, thatched roof, which seemed a rarity in this day and age, she wandered around towards the front door of the house. Genevieve had come home earlier, there was no doubt she would be inside, looking for lemonade. Of all things she seemed attached to the muggle soft drink, and it was a favorite of hers whenever the days became just a little too hot. Most likely she was rummaging through the fridge right now to find where she'd hidden the bottle. Such a clever girl she was…
As she rounded the corner and neared the front door, Ginny's mouth dropped open in shock... Scorched with flame and still emitting smoke, the front door laid violently blasted inwards, only splinters of wood hanging loosely from the frame where the ornately carved entrance had once been. Stark terror quickly engulfed her, a single thought presently speeding through Ginny's mind… Genevieve! Quickly Ginny rushed inside, withdrawing her wand without realizing it and pointing it around corners as she searched the house from top to bottom. Her heart rate increased in fear and trepidation. Oh if something had happened to Genevieve…
Slowly she inched herself about a doorframe, into the girl's room. Pretty, pink wallpaper covered the walls in strips. Flowers and fairies abundant over them as Ginny and her daughter had designed it when Genevieve had been only six years old. A wide, window letting in light from the far end of the room often let in the morning rise. That too was covered by ornately woven curtains that hung loosely to either end, tied at the middle. Scanning the room over her eyes swept over the furniture inside…
'Genevieve?…' she called hopefully. A shallow breathing answered her.
'I'm in here mother.' The young girl replied from a corner, seeming a little more shaken than usual. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.
'Oh thank goodness you're safe. Come to me please…' but surprisingly, Genevieve shook her head vigorously, her eyes sidling to her left where there didn't appear to be anything nearby.
'I… I can't.' she spoke softly, her eyes not meeting her mother's, '… he won't let me.'
Ginny froze where she stood and raised her wand fearfully, just in time to see a dark figure suddenly materialize out of thin air at Genevieve's side, a black cloak pulled over his body and a low hood drooping down over his eyes. Only his mouth was visible, straight and emotionless. Ginny felt sure however that he was staring right at her, piercing eyes melting into her head. She pointed her wand viciously towards him, her teeth gritted so tightly they grinded together.
'Get away from her… or I swear on my grave I'll kill you where you stand!' she demanded, her hands trembling on her wand hilt in desperation. The man stared back, Ginny was sure of it, but acted not on the feisty woman's insistence. Instead, he moved a black gloved hand over the young girl and placed it on Genevieve's right shoulder. The little girl visibly paled, whilst something close to a smile hinted at the stranger's mouth. Ginny's fear and temper sky rocketed.
'You were warned! STUPEFY!' she roared, a red, winding spell blasting from her wand towards the cloaked man… But something happened then that Ginny just couldn't fathom. The stranger reacted quickly, and put up his free hand, the spell hitting it and rebounding off into the ceiling with a bang, apparently having no effect on him at all. Then with a twist of his fingers, Ginny's wand flew from her hands, into the strangers black gloves. Another larger bead of sweat rolled down the side of Ginny's face.
'I swear…if you hurt I'm going to…' she couldn't quite think of what to say, her mind was nothing but a blur of fear. The stranger smiled beneath his hood, a small mark of satisfaction at the red haired woman's confusion.
'What will you do exactly?' the man asked her questionably, leaving Ginny surprised and lost for words. She stuttered incoherently, even as Genevieve looked between the two curiously, something sparking in her head. Ginny couldn't tell, but the color seemed to have returned to the girl's face. She no longer seemed as scared. Her though, she was petrified with fear, though it was a dull fear.
'You don't know, do you?' he asked again, seeming more of a statement than a question. Ginny just stood there silently, her mouth working. Without her wand, here truly wasn't anything she could do… they were both at his mercy.
'Do not fear… I mean no harm to you. As I mean no harm to your daughter either. I'm sorry if I scared you with the front door, but locks do little but annoy me these days. I'm not as patient as I once was…'
Ginny stared back disbelievingly, her teeth still gritted in fear and defiance. The man's mouth tightened a little.
'You don't believe me… do you? I thought not. Here then, take your daughter back, and take your wand as well. If it suits you, strike me down and I'll do nothing to save myself. If anything I deserve it for scaring you so.' And he pushed Genevieve towards Ginny, throwing her wand back to her as well, which she caught off handedly.
Raising the magical piece of wood at the man, she knew she wanted to kill him. Yes he did deserve it… But then again, had he truly meant harm to them, he could quite easily have killed them both a hundred times over in the time he spent just standing there, and it appeared he was a far greater wizard than she were a witch. Slowly, reluctantly… she lowered her wand, receiving a smile in return from the hooded man.
'Who are you?' she asked, still keeping a firm hold on her wand handle. The man didn't answer her straight away.
'I wonder… would you have indeed struck me down then? Would you have truly attacked your own husband?'
What felt to her like a club, struck at her mind. HUSBAND?! What was he talking about? What was he…? A sudden thought passed through her, and she took a tentative step forwards.
'No… it can't be… It's just impossible… Is it really you?! After all this time is it really you?' the man stood stone still, eyeing her as she made steps towards him, 'You can't be, just can't be… But can you……… Harry?'
Raising his two hands, the man reached for his hood, and pulled the black fabric away from his head, revealing an aged but indisputable face. With circular glasses, deep green eyes, and finally, the long, jagged lightening bolt scar on his forehead, Harry stood before her, a tear in his eye and a smile stretched across his face from ear to ear, Ginny almost could not help but be overcome by happiness. How she had dreamed of this reunion. She'd played it in her head over and over when the nights were too lonely, when the bed was too cold. Without warning she leaped at him, flinging her arms around his broad shoulders as she wept ceaselessly.
'Oh Harry, HARRY!' she cried, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks as her husband wrapped her up with his strong hands, whispering into her ear.
'I'm so sorry Ginny. You don't know how sorry I am. All the years I haven't been here for you. Oh so long. Eleven years for us hasn't it been? Twenty for everyone else… I think people scarcely remember my existence after so long. You just don't know how happy I am to be back Ginny. You just don't know!'
Ginny held him tightly as though he were about to disappear from her again, wishing that this one moment of bliss could last forever.
'My work in the outside world is over now Ginny, I'll never be away from you again… EVER, I promise!'
And with that, Ginny smiled feeling happier than she had ever felt for many years. He was going to stay home from now on, she thought at that moment, and he was never leaving again. It felt like old times once more… so happy, so blissful.
Meanwhile, just across the room, Genevieve looked to her mother as she held the stranger as tight as she could. Confusion settled in her mind, but his name seemed oddly familiar, as though she'd known it since birth but never spoken of it. With her mouth half open she looked to the man who likewise looked back to her, two pairs of green eyes meeting together as one, she whispered one silent word beneath her breath…
'Dad?…'
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There, chapter 1 down and the story is well on it's way to greatness. Yes it's me Richard again. I hope you like ths new story I'm writing, sequel to the first. This chapter goes ahead some twenty years into the future if you didn't read it, and the world has changed much in that time. I've no idea what my loyal reviewers were thinking the sequel would be like, but I guarantee you it will be better than the first story by a great margin. Anyway, happy reading all, I hope this chapter suits you all well.
Regards: Richard