Disclaimer: I own nothing...poor me...

I also would like to thank RenaTamer for letting me use his character: Black

The Prologue

June 26, 1995

Closing the door of the Department of Mysteries behind him, Unspeakable Patrick Crockford looked at the wreckage of the battle between Harry Potter and the Death Eaters that still lay about. It had been a long day starting at 03:00 with an emergency call-out and ending in an all-out reveal of the Dark Lord and his forces. The damage to the Department of Mysteries was...how could six Death Eaters and six children cause so much chaos in so little time. The room of prophecies... half are gone and... Well.

Already the morning edition of the Daily Prophet was in everyone's hands reporting the events of the night to all of Great Britain. The Dark Lord was back. He who must not be named has been named. Maybe he should start thinking of immigrating to America and become a muggle. His wife won't mind, she's non-magical anyway.

Too lazy to walk up the stairs to go to the lift and out, he tapped the television remote he still held in his hand after he was summoned to the ministry, while he was watching television. It was urgent, apparently. Urgent, huh! More like a code red national emergency Level H. Oh dear, too much television, again.

With a swirl of color he was gone and moments later landed safely in the living room of his house. Feeling too exhausted to do anything else he collapsed on the couch and fell asleep instantly. Felicity, his wife of 10 years, came in with their youngest son, Damaen, on her arm. Putting the 2-year-old boy down on the carpet, close to his father, she went back to the kitchen to start breakfast.

There was a re-run of his favorite cartoon show on television, so he was transfixed in one spot while watching this show, Digimon. During one of the commercial breaks, his father turned in his sleep and his wand fell next to Damaen, slightly tapping his arm, which brought him out of his television-daze.

Puzzled at this weird stick that landed next to him, he picked it up and wove it around, mumbling. Then, like a typical 2-year old, he started to smash his father's wand into different objects, the chair lost a leg, the lights went off and the fruit tap-danced across the table. Picking up the remote control/port-key where it fell from his father's hand, and smashed the two together like his own personal orchestra.

Felicity was busy working in the kitchen with breakfast, when she heard tapping noises coming from the living room. Not too worried, for she knew there were toys there, she kept working. Then all of a sudden she heard a loud buzz and a strong wind blew through the house and silence followed in its wake. Puzzled she glanced at the television and saw the snow screen. Shrugging she went back in, reminding herself to tell her husband to pay the cable bill in the morning, but little did she know...