Prologue
Harry Potter does not belong to me
'Chandra...', the name rolled slowly off his tongue, he had waited many years to take back what was rightfully his... too many years.
Long-fingered, white hands adjusted a black traveling cloak, to better survey the small village.
The sun was slowly setting over the cold, gray mountains; just visible though the trees and hazy smoke coming from several chimneys.
Gravel crunched loudly underfoot as the stranger started walking to the highest point in the village, to a handsome manor overlooking the mountains.
The stranger knew, as he always did, that she would be there. He had wanted her almost as much as Harry Potter.
Harry woke in a cold sweat, his mind working overtime to hold the vision of Voldemort in his head; but it was like trying to hold water in your hands.
Feeling frustrated all Harry could remember now, was dark trees and a path.
Sudden manic jubilation spread throughout his body, like hot fire, and his body shook as he collapsed, and all became dark.