SUMMARY: The war against Voldemort had always looked bleak, but when he discovers a way to eliminate muggles on an unimaginable scale, the horror left behind for the wizarding world is….unimaginable. With what seems little left to fight for, can Harry and the light fend off evil, or will the world be plunged completely into darkness? Folks, this is a Harry Potter/The Stand crossover. The idea struck me this morning, and by god, sent a shiver through my spine at how cool this story could actually be. The big change in this story is that the man behind the planting of the horrible disease is Voldemort, not the Crimson King (all you Dark Tower fans out there know who I'm talking about). Some things will be changed from Stephen King's story, but I will give my utmost effort to stay as close to the story as possible. While I will give my greatest effort to make it so that those who have not read The Stand will still be able to follow the story, I would still suggest you read it, if only for the reason that it is my personal favorite, and one of the best pieces of fictional writing in the 20th century. WRT Harry Potter universe, this story is canon through the end of fifth year, and from there, is definitely AU. Now, as they say, on with the show!
DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.
POST DATE: September 29, 2007
PROLOGUE
June 16, 1996: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Removing his glasses with one hand, while simultaneously rubbing his dry, tired eyes with the other, Albus Dumbledore patiently responded, "Minerva, as I have already mentioned to you, he simply will not do it. Mr. Sampson, along with all other candidates for the position that we have been able to dig up thus far, heavily believes in the idea that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed. I'm afraid, my friend, that the time may have finally come to consider an…inside source to fill the requirements."
With a look of shock on her face, Minerva McGonagall found her voice after a few seconds and replied, "Albus, you cannot mean…there has to be another solution. There just has to be. You know my feelings on this, Albus, and I.will.not.back.down. I do not trust that man, even if you see fit to do so."
"Calm down, calm down. Here, have a sherbert lemon, they always do wonders for my nerves, and are refreshingly tasty, to boot," he said, flashing his ever famous twinkling eyes at her, as he handed a small dish to the rather agitated woman. Waiting until she begrudgingly took one of the small hard candies, he placed the small dish back on his desk and continued. "It is just a suggestion. I fear, however, that soon, our feelings on this subject will become inconsequential. If we cannot find someone to fill the vacated post soon, once again, the ministry may see fit to fill the position for us, and we cannot afford the time to deal with another Delores Umbridge, I'm sure you of all people would agree."
Scrunching up her nose in disgust, McGonagall spat back, "Of course not, Albus. I simply cannot believe that there is not another solution. The term only ended a short while ago, there is still plenty of time…Albus, are you feeling well?"
"What? Oh, yes, yes, alright, just a little light headed there for a moment. Now, of course…well…that is…my, but I suddenly feel sooooooo tiiiiiirrrrreed," he slurred out these last few words as his head lolled about, seemingly out of control.
Suddenly startled, McGonagall jumped from her seat. "Albus! What's wrong? Should I get Poppy?"
"Yes, Minerva, I suspect that woulllllddd beeeeee thhhhh…" He did not finish his sentence, however, as his head ducked to the right one last time before he slid from his chair to the floor with a soft "fwump". With an edge of panic to her actions, McGonagall quickly checked for a pulse, and, once feeling a strong one, levitated his limp body and began guiding him to the hospital wing as quickly as she could.
Opening his eyes, Albus Dumbledore found himself to be experiencing a state of mind that he was not accustomed to be associated with. He was completely dumbfounded. He was in an area that he was nowhere near familiar to, and yet, while he should be feeling fear and apprehension, instead the greatest emotion running through him at the current time seemed to be…contentment?
Taking in his surroundings, he could see that, wherever he was, it was nighttime, and he appeared to standing in the middle of a rather large corn field. Perking up his ears slightly, he thought he could hear the faint musings of a guitar floating along the wind to him, and decided that he should search out this sound to its source.
After a couple minutes walking, mainly do to the irritation of the corn surrounding him rather than distance, he peered through the few remaining stalks to witness a surprising site. Before him, sitting upon a rickety rocking chair outside of an even more rickety-looking shanty of a home, sat a very small, very old, black woman playing guitar and singing a song that he was unfamiliar with. Though her playing was slightly out of tune, and her singing left something to be desired, Albus was still captivated by her performance.
"Jesus loves the little children,
All the little children of the world.
Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in his sight,
Jesus loves the little children of the world."
Finishing her song, the woman slowly set down her guitar on the table beside her and reached for a cane, then stood up, albeit with a decent amount of effort. Suddenly, turning a smile in his direction, she called out, "You don' need ta be a hidin', ya know. I know ya's there. Why don' you come on a little closer A'bus, so's you and me can have a talk? I promise, I won' bite ya!" After this last bit, she giggled for a while to herself.
Feeling slightly embarrassed at being caught, Albus quickly moved forward out of the last of the corn stalks, casually making sure his wand was ready if he needed it. Adopting what he hoped was a charming smile, he then greeted the woman. "Pardon my rudeness, Madam, but it seems you have me at a slight disadvantage. I do not believe I caught your name?" he questioned, reaching the base of her porch, but making no effort to move forward from there.
"Please, chil', firs' thing you can do is put a stop ta all this 'Madam' bidness." At this she giggled once again. Seeing the questioning look on his face, she quickly continued, "Oh, I's just thinkin' that maybe, for the firs' time in a long time, I've met someone who should be callin' me chil'?" She giggled a few more times before continuing. "Folks 'roun' here call me Mother Abigail. I reckon I'm the oldest person 'roun' these here parts, but I don' let that slow me down too much now. I still make ma own biscuits! Can still pick me some guitar, too, although the rheumatiz's got ma fingers so bad I can' hit all the cords na more." Finishing, she smiled triumphantly.
'Why do I feel so comfortable around this woman?' Albus thought to himself as he chuckled at her enthusiasm. Pushing that to the side, he said, "Well, Mother Abigail, it is a pleasure to meet you. Now, since I'm guessing that you are the person who brought me here, I was hoping that you could tell me what my purpose here is?"
"Oh, no, chil', no. I wasn' who brought ya hear, Lord Jesus no. I'm jus' a messenger, chil'. No, the Lord's the one who brought you here, an' Amen fo' that, tha's fo' sho'!" Changing the subject then, she said, "I's not like you, ya know. No, tell the truth, I's didn' even know they was people like you. My, oh my, but the Lord does work in strange ways. But now's not the time to be reminiscin', chil', for the devil, he's a comin'. He's a comin', and they ain't nobody can stop 'im!"
At this last part, Albus suddenly grew cold, a strange nervousness wracking his body. Looking up to the old woman for reassurance, he spoke, "Is it Voldemort you speak of? Is there really nothing that can be done?" He didn't know why exactly he thought he could get any real information from this woman, but it just seemed right, somehow.
"Now tha's not fo' me ta say, A'bus. An' I won' be a speakin' that devil's name, either. But here's wha' I can tell ya. They's a storm on the brew, a might powerful storm indeed. A storm tha's startin' out righ' here in the good ol' US of A, but i's gonna touch the whole worl', an' the only suvivas is gonna be the kin' like you. Now don' you go frettin' tryin' ta change it, the wheel's already rollin' down the hill, A'bus. Jus' understan', this storm IS COMING, and right soon, too. Ya need ta be prepared, A'bus, 'cause when the storm passes, you an' all ya kind are all tha's gonna be lef' ta stand up to 'im. An' when that time comes, you need to be ready, Lords yes."
Cold water now felt as though it was running freely down Albus' spine, and with trepidation, he asked, "But what can we do, Mother Abigail? Now that I know, where do I go from here?"
Laughing outright, she turned her loving smile upon him and responded, "Don' worry, chil', when the time comes, you'll know what ta do. Fa now, just remember wha' I said, an' protect those you can. I 'spose you and yaws'll be hearin' from me sooner 'n ya think, Lord willin'. 'Til then, A'bus, remember, take care 'a you an' yaws."
At this last, the old woman smiled one last time, then slowly walked into her house. Meaning to follow, Albus was surprised when he found he couldn't move his legs. Panic finally starting to grip him, he began attempting to thrash about to free himself, but the harder he worked, the more he found he couldn't move at all. Closing his eyes in concentration, the world seemed to black out for a moment, then he quickly recovered his senses. Opening his eyes, however, he found he was no longer outside of a cornfield, but rather he was laying on a bed in Hogwarts' own hospital wing, with a rather fear filled Minerva McGonagall leaning over him.
"Albus! Can you hear me? Are you alright? Poppy says you were just asleep, but we couldn't wake you!"
Sitting up quickly, remembering the dream he had just had, he quickly sat up, all the blood draining from his face. "Minerva," he said, grabbing her shoulders firmly, "We must call an order meeting. It has to be tonight. I need for everyone, and I mean EVERYONE to be there. That list includes Harry, by the way."
"Albus, surely you must have hurt your head somewhere. How am I to schedule a meeting of the entire order this evening when it is already," here she paused to look at the clock in the hospital wing, "five in the afternoon? And, Albus, why do you look as though you just saw the end of the world?" she questioned, taking in his pasty complexion and worried eyes.
"Minerva, old friend, this meeting must take place, and soon. I don't really care how it is organized, just that it does happen. Use all resources at your disposal, have any teachers necessary help you, for this takes precedence OVER ALL ELSE. As for your second question, if the vision I just had was true, Minerva, I believe I may have just been informed that the end of the world is coming soon." His voice slowly died out as he was speaking, so that the last few words out of his mouth were nothing but a whisper.
Though she may not have wanted to, McGonagall heard every word he said, and could tell by the look of him that he was dead serious. Standing quickly and speaking, a slight falter in her voice, she said to him, "I will begin at once. I will report back to you when everything is ready. Is there anything you wish for me to tell everyone?"
"Yes, tell them that our plans may be greatly changed. Greatly changed indeed."
"Flagg, is everything in order?" spoke the high pitched, irritating voice of the Dark Lord. Before him was a thick ball of smoke, the image of a man displayed upon it. The man had shoulder length brown hair, wore plain clothes, a T-shirt with worn denim jeans and even more worn leather cowboy boots. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary about this man was his eyes, which, to anybody other than the being he was currently speaking with, seemed frightfully penetrating, as though they could see every secret you might wish to hide.
"Indeed, my Lord, as we speak, the fool guard is running for his life. He definitely has been infected, and should soon make contact with others, thus starting the chain reaction."
"Very good, very good indeed, Randall. I can see now that I've trusted the right man to take care of my…American business proposition. Tell me, how long?"
"All things considered, there should be heavy damage done by the end of this month, worldwide infection no later than mid-July, my Lord. By the end of summer, muggles should be nothing more than a memory for this planet." As he finished, a terrifying smirk of accomplishment spread across his face, and even the other Death Eaters in the room had to avert their eyes in fear.
"Very well, I am highly pleased by this, Randall, I assure you. As planned, I and my troops shall be joining you in two days time. From there, I will leave you the responsibility of raising my army. Do you have any questions of me on this?" he asked, although his tone of voice recommended that Flagg had better not.
"Of course not, my Lord, I have everything here well under control. Once the disease begins to take its hold, I shall begin contacting and drawing those who will be yours to command."
"Good. Oh, and Randall? I have given you your current position as a reward for your outstanding service, but remember that while I reward success, I also heavily punish failure. So do not fail me, is that understood?"
Looking slightly on edge, Flagg responded, "Of course my Lord, I shall not fail you now or ever."
With a wave of his hand, the smoke in front of him dissipated, destroying the image of Flagg. Turning to his room full of followers, Voldemort smiled wickedly before announcing, "My good men, my plan is swiftly becoming a great success!! In mere a mere month's time, the world shall be rid of muggles, and the world shall be ours for the taking."
At this, he was interrupted. "My Lord, I cheer our success along with you, however, I must ask, how do we know that we shall be unaffected by the disease? And for that matter, how do we know that the entire population of muggles will be affected?" the man asked, a slight disbelief in his voice.
Turning his smile upon the questioning man, Voldemort responded, "Dolohov, my friend, it is good that you ask questions, as that is the only way to find true solutions, no? Here's a reward for your curiosity," and with that, he quickly brandished his wand pointing it at the man's heart before shouting, "Avada Kedavra!!" The man instantly crumpled to the floor, a look of surprise left on his dead face.
Turning to the rest of the room, the Dark Lord hissed out in a barely audible voice, "Is there anyone else who wishes to question my plans? I'll take your silence as a no. Very well then, we must begin preparing at once. In two days time, all Death Eaters on any of the British Isles shall accompany me to the city of Las Vegas, in the United States. From there we shall watch as the world of muggles burns to the ground, and then we shall claim what is ours once and for all!" At this, the room shouted its approval. "Now, are there any questions as to responsibilities? No? Good, then be gone!"
As the men in the room began scurrying away, Voldemort re-took his seat upon his throne, smiling maliciously at his incredible success. 'See, Potter, I don't need to kill you to take over the world.' He thought through the connection that he and the boy shared. He began laughing maniacally.
A/N: Well, there it is, just a prologue, remember. I must reiterate how excited I am to be writing this story. I just hope I don't butcher The Stand too badly in the process. I've read the book several times, and have a copy here with me for research, however, it is just such a large story, I'm pretty sure I'm bound to miss something. If you guys see anything, let me know, and I'll try and correct it. Anyways, if you like it, review. If you don't like it, review. If you think it's stupid and that I'm a tosser, REVIEW!!
Cheers!!