In a dark room, a door is opened to reveal a sliver of light, falling on a desk with a chair, and a bed in the corner. The light briefly plays along what seems to be lenses of rectangular glasses, but the door is shut to close out any view. The silhouette of the figure who opened the door sits down in the chair by the desk, his gaze looking at something far off and long gone...looking a a memory of when it all began.

"Kristoff!" the sound of a mothers voice echoed up the staircase of the small house. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling widely with her husband at her side. Both were relatively tall, and in good shape. The mother had silvery blond hair and steel blue eyes, her skin was tanned from working out in the yard. The man standing beside her was well built, with strong square shoulders. His skin was a bit paler than his wife's, working in an office all day. His hair was short, the color of fresh coal. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown. Both parents wore wizarding robes, to commemorate the day.

Footfall was heard up the stairwell, and a boy emerged at the top of the staircase. He grinned widely down to his parents, wearing his very first set of robes. "Look, They fit!" He shouted in glee. The boy was a bit on the scrawny side, skin not tan nor pale but a pleasant mix between the two. His hair was a deep brown, cut short and neat. The boy's eyes were the same as his mothers, steel blue, and hidden behind a glimmering pair of glass lenses.

"And you look very handsome in them as well" His father said to the boy. Kristoff grinned slightly at the compliment, running his hand down the front of his robe to straighten it.

"Come on down dear, presents are waiting" At the comment Kristoff grinned even wider, running down the stairs two at a time. He rushed past his parents, running into the kitchen. It was his /11th/ birthday, they'd have gotten him something special. When he reached the kitchen he stopped, the grin disappearing. There was a small box on the table, near the obvious cake. Just...a tiny box, wrapped in gold paper. Kristoff walked slowly over to the box.

"You'll love it Kristoff," He heard his fathers voice from behind him and turned. "Well go on, open it" His father urged, he glanced to his mother who gave an encouraging smile. Kristoff made his way over to the box, slowly taking the wrapper off and opening the box to reveal a small cerulean colored pen.

"..Gee...thanks dad. It's...It's great" He forced a smile. Kristoff knew how much the pen would've cost, and that much money being spent in their family obviously counted as a great gift. But...a pen that writes by itself was something his father would like...not him...not Kristoff. The boy had always had a passion for cooking, yes you heard right, cooking.

The rest of the party had gone by fairly quickly, he'd smiled on the outside, but on the inside he was crushed. Hadn't his parents known he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps? Hadn't they known he would hate the pen? Up in his room he laid on his bed, slamming his fist into the mattress, "I should've seen it coming," He mumbled harshly to himself, "I should've seen that future coming..."

Why hadn't he? It irked him so, how he'd never have premonitions about something important to /him/. Only about quite random things, a dog would get hit by a car, his father would get in trouble with the boss, but never things about /him/.

Footfall in the hallway, coming towards his room. Kristoff sat up, listening...but there was nothing. He made his way over to the door, listening, and moment later there was the footfall he'd pre-heard.

"Kristoff?" He heard his mother's voice ask nervously, out here will you?" There was something wrong...but what?
He opened the door slowly, peering out into the hallway. His mother was...crying? Why was his mother crying?

"I can't do it-Kristoff Run!!" she screamed as a man pulled her away, dressed in a cloak that covered their head. Kristoff turned to run back into the room, but was soon grabbed by one of the men and pulled into the hallway.

"Let me go!" Kristoff shouted, struggling desperately. The man carried him down the stairs and into the kitchen, keeping their grip and pulling up the sleeve of his robe. He looked frantically around the room, for his father...where was-...no...He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes, "Father!" he shouted, but knew it was pointless.

His father lay dead by the door. Kristoff's gaze was torn away from the body as a sharp pain shot up his arm, he looked to the spot where a wand was pointed at his skin, burning the image of a skull onto his arm. He was trembling, and looked up to the men holding him. The group started to part, letting a man through and bowing slightly to him.

Kristoff was trembling terribly, the man grinned down, acid yellow boring into steel blue.

"Now now, Kristoff...Theres nothing to be afraid of. We're finished here...I'll see you in say...seven years?" the man said with a malicious grin. The rest of the men around him turned and left the room, leaving Kristoff with his sobbing mother and dead father.

That was when it all began...