【Prologue: The Hope of Our Kind】

"Hi." A cold, stiff voice echoed in a dark alley, the spooky greenish light from the lanterns lit up a shadowed figure. This man was obviously not affected by the freezing-ness of the snowflakes drifting down as he only wore a simple emerald cloak over his dark green woollen cardigan and trousers. However it matches up quite well with the look of the alley.

"It is obvious to me that you are not in a great mood, am I right?" A second voice said. This one was more warming than the last, more penetrating as well, and with a purer old English accent.

"My cousin was killed last Friday, thanks to those Muggles." the emerald person said bitterly.

"Never heard of him." The second person said as he shivered with cold. He wasn't wearing an awful lot either.

"Her." The first corrected.

"I don't suppose that's why you've called me, to cry about your sister?"

"Ricky we've got to act!"

"Oh, Sally, when are we not acting?"

"I! AM! NOT! CALLED! SALLY!" The other one hollered under his breath, it was clear from the quietness of the conversation that none of them wanted to be heard.

"Oh please chill, don't be so pathetic," Ricky teased with a laugh.

"Godric Gryffindor, will you please start to take this seriously! We've got too much to loose, we are the hope of our kind!"

"I know, Salazar," Ricky said, losing the jolliness at the mention of his full name, "How can I not? I've seen too much to be innocent again."

"Oh Godric!" Salazar sighed.

"It'll be OK, Sally, it'll be OK.." He paused and looked at his friend, as if waiting for him to fight back, but this time Salazar did not react at all to being called Sally. Godric went on, "Nice chat we've had tonight, I'll see you around." and without waiting for an answer, he turned around and swished his cloak. He was gone. Salazar did the same thing with a sigh.

The snow continued to fall in the dark alley, covering up the footprints of the two cloaked men. The flame in the green lanterns burnt silently and still, giving a flicker from time to time. Nothing in this alley suggested that anyone came near it. Miles away, Godric Gryffindor lay in his bed at home, it was a simple wooden one, he turned over what Salazar said. "Salazar was right," he murmured, "We got to get acting… We got to save our kind… "

But, how?