Prologue

It was the May 2nd 1998, but the feeling of spring had yet to be felt in Great Britain.

All over the country people were too scared to leave their houses or in some cases even their cellars, afraid of the terrorist attacks that happened throughout the last year. Or was it the last two year? No one was entirely sure.

In an unknown location in Scotland, a castle to precise things looked fairly different. This castle was, to a few special people, known as Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Although at the moment the building, which had been standing for centuries, looked very little like a school. The once sturdy walls of Hogwarts castle were crumbling, here and there you could see fires burning, you could see injured people, children; adults, men and women wearing black and as well as colorful cloaks, in some places lay bodies, destined to never get up again.

If you had watched the day at Hogwarts through a TV, without Volume, you wouldn't have noticed any difference, had the Volume however been on, you would notice instantly what had changed. Other than the rest of the day you couldn't here screams, courses and hexes flying around, you couldn't hear the sound of battle, it was silent. Deathly silent.

Now you would ask "Why, why would they stop in the middle of a battle?" I will tell you why.

In front of the school Harry Potter, who had only a short time ago seemingly returned from the death, had just killed the evil wizard Lord Voldemord formerly known as Tom Riddle.

No one exactly knew that Harry beat Voldmort though the Death Eater, Voldemorts' minions, felt it their Dark Marks, which Riddle had formerly used to call them, burned making their arm feel as though they are ablaze.

The stronger once among them took their last energy and escaped from the Hogwarts grounds while the weaker once were stopped by their opponents. As all the Death eaters had either fled, surrendered or been stunned the fighters of the Light began to wonder about what had happened.

They should soon receive their answer as the announcement was made "Harry Potter has won, Voldemort is dead!"

Immediately cheers broke out through the still ruling silence. For a moment no one thought about the deaths and the destruction which had occurred, for this moment all that was on their minds was that the war had ended.

In this moment of happiness no one noticed a lone figure sadly looking at Harry Potter. And no one heard the figure mutter:

"Oh my old friend. I'm so sorry that this has happened to you. No one should have had to come into this position, no one should have to carry this curse. But never say I'm without mercy. Sometimes there is no one more merciful than me. But the curse can't simply disappear, it will have to be carried by someone else."

The figure directs its sad eyes once more at the black haired youth that had to grow up far too early.

"A child of your own, a child of your friend and a child of your enemy will have to bear it. Good bye. My master, my friend, I hope we won't see each other for a long time."

Neville Longbottom was the only one who heard the mutter words "They will have to be taught."

Looking around Neville could not find the source of those words.

Though for him this moment would be of great importance, for he decided then and there that he would become a teacher and even though he probably wouldn't be a history teacher he still would tell his students the stories of the second wizarding war, so that it would not happen again.