Summary: The world thought Harry and Voldemort were dead. But they're back,
Harry with one friend dead, his fiancé married to his enemy, his other
friend insane, and Voldemort still trying to kill him. Some things never
change, and some do.
Disclaimer: If I were JKR, I would be adored by millions and having more money than all of said fans combined-and I also wouldn't be posting here, now would I?
Originally this was to be an all-SS/GW fic, as I was disgusted at the quality of the rest (so I write my own, what an improvement). Which is why that ship appears. I usually hate all the ships but HP/GW and RW/HG (my opinion is that open minds make everything in them fall out), but I decided to step out of my writing comfort zone and write something challenging. Hence, Change.
Change
Prologue: Last Stand
I was dead.
Five years ago, when I was seventeen. Ginny, then my fiancé for five months, since her sixteenth birthday, was standing behind me. So were Ron and Hermione. My loyal friends.
Loyalty. Something I'd rather not go into just now.
Voldemort stood in front of me. It looked almost like a face-off from those old Westerns. He had three Death Eaters at his shoulders-Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange, his most loyal followers. I had a seventeen-year-old girl with all the brains and talent in the world, a seventeen-year-old boy who would follow Hermione, the love of his life, Ginny, his beloved sister, and me, his best friend, absolutely anywhere, and Ginny, far more than your average romantic subplot character. She fought like an Auror with years of training behind her.
Voldemort tried to kill me, once again, accompanied by a clever parting shot. But I blocked it. I was that powerful by then. One of the most powerful defensive charms ever, written by me and now amplified because I had used it, and multiplied times a thousand by the protection my mother had given to me.
That was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made.
I sometimes lie by myself and think on what might have happened if I had rolled out of the way instead, and from behind attacked him with Godric Gryffindor's sword, which I carried at my side. But I blocked it instead.
And everything exploded.
I was thrown away, and into a tree. Life went dark. I felt myself die.
I don't know what happened after that.
I don't know where I was.
And now the only thing I know for sure is that change is constant.
And it never seems to be for the better.
Disclaimer: If I were JKR, I would be adored by millions and having more money than all of said fans combined-and I also wouldn't be posting here, now would I?
Originally this was to be an all-SS/GW fic, as I was disgusted at the quality of the rest (so I write my own, what an improvement). Which is why that ship appears. I usually hate all the ships but HP/GW and RW/HG (my opinion is that open minds make everything in them fall out), but I decided to step out of my writing comfort zone and write something challenging. Hence, Change.
Change
Prologue: Last Stand
I was dead.
Five years ago, when I was seventeen. Ginny, then my fiancé for five months, since her sixteenth birthday, was standing behind me. So were Ron and Hermione. My loyal friends.
Loyalty. Something I'd rather not go into just now.
Voldemort stood in front of me. It looked almost like a face-off from those old Westerns. He had three Death Eaters at his shoulders-Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange, his most loyal followers. I had a seventeen-year-old girl with all the brains and talent in the world, a seventeen-year-old boy who would follow Hermione, the love of his life, Ginny, his beloved sister, and me, his best friend, absolutely anywhere, and Ginny, far more than your average romantic subplot character. She fought like an Auror with years of training behind her.
Voldemort tried to kill me, once again, accompanied by a clever parting shot. But I blocked it. I was that powerful by then. One of the most powerful defensive charms ever, written by me and now amplified because I had used it, and multiplied times a thousand by the protection my mother had given to me.
That was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made.
I sometimes lie by myself and think on what might have happened if I had rolled out of the way instead, and from behind attacked him with Godric Gryffindor's sword, which I carried at my side. But I blocked it instead.
And everything exploded.
I was thrown away, and into a tree. Life went dark. I felt myself die.
I don't know what happened after that.
I don't know where I was.
And now the only thing I know for sure is that change is constant.
And it never seems to be for the better.