Title A Most Preposterous and Wondrous Tale

Author the Gibbler

CategoryGeneral, Adventure

Sub-Category Romance

Rating T

Spoiler(s) SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, FB, QTTA, OoTPs

Main Character(s) Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy

Summary "It silently screamed to the heavens as the well crumbled and thexhinc Unraveled the emberal magic and took with it the body of the figure, gaping mouth and all…"

Disclaimer Recognizable characters belong to J.K. Rowling, who is sadly not me, for then I would not be here on but out somewhere with over a billion dollars under my command. Life does indeed suck. :)

Author Notes This is my first FanFiction. I posted this first prologue well over a year ago (in October, 2006), but kind of abandoned it afterwards. I'm back now and decided to re-post the first prologue with some changes. I have a better plan of where I want to go with fic, so I do plan on posting regularly. However, what I want and what actually aspires are hardly ever one and the same – doesn't life just downright suck sometimes? – and so there may be times when readers would want to rip me to shreds for delaying (I apologize in advance). In fact, the frequency of posts depends on how much I have on my plate in terms of school, work, etc. and also, of course, on whether the FanFiction community actually wants to read some more: what's the point of continuing if no one is going to read, right? Thus said, let's see how this turns out, shall we?

A Most Preposterous and Wondrous Tale

Prologue One

Ah, yes, my last story and possibly the most invigorating, as I may say so myself. Truly astonishing that life is coming to a close and I am left with only parchment and a quill to recall its accounts. Why should I not do what I am about to do? Surely, life's demands have been met – there was a job, a home, a good husband, children, grandchildren – and, so, now I am at peace to just sit back and remember. I must admit, though, I do not have the same vigor as I used to in my hands: they cannot write as fast as they once were famous for – or "infamous," depending on whichever perspective you held me in: friend or foe – nor can my mind come up with its orders to the said hands as quickly.

But this story must be told above all the rest, and I see my mistake now: I should have written this one before the others. But then I could not have, for it requires its base from the others; it is not one to stand on its own. How can one possibly recall such a, for lack of a better term, preposterous and wondrous tale from the depths of memory alone and pass it into words on mere parchment? I possibly cannot, not without the help of all the accounts that led up to the abovementioned preposterous and wondrous tale.

And thus, I am long overdue to begin a story in which I am not a great part, but whose accounts have affected me (and the rest of the world) so greatly that it deserves its own parchment and place on some shelf. I assure you, the story does have a "once upon a time," as do all stories, and there is a hero and his heroine (or, more correctly, a heroine and her hero), and there is the heroine and her hero's enemy, and all the other good stuff that make up a good tale. Therefore, the question is not if this story is actually a good story with all the qualities it is supposed to posses, but if one is willing to sacrifice some valuable time to read its accounts.

That, dear Reader, is a decision wholly placed on your shoulders. My job is to take memory and render it into words, yours is to take the said words and render them into memory – a steady transfer indeed. Therefore, make up your mind now, for I assure you that once you begin, there is little chance of turning back and sacrificed your time shall be. Decided?

And so – do not fail me now, hands – my story, which is not really my story, but the world's story, begins:

"Once upon a time, there was a girl…"

End Notes I know this tidbit is rather confusing, but bear with me. It would all come to light in due time. Also, feedback, both of the positive and negative variety, is always much appreciated, folks…

Until next time,
the Gibbler