Part one of a three parted I'll write. The next two, Surrender and Salvation, will probably be quicker each time, as I get more of a feel for the characters and writing. Hopefully I won't have as much work so I'll have more time to write.
Well, I should be studying for French (the only phrase I know is; 'J'ai élevé des nains' and 'Je suis crayon blur' which aren't appropriate for exams) but... this seemed far more interesting.
Prologue
Dumbledore stared down at Harry with a questioning gaze, but his pride was evident. He didn't have to ask Harry if he were sure about his decision, he already knew Dumbledore had been manipulating him to reach this point anyway.
"There will be no returning until the set time," Harry put on a determined front and nodded. He knew exactly what was at stake, but it was a risk he had to take. If he didn't, there was no doubt Voldemort would take control of the Ministry. Harry hated to think how many people would die if that happened – he would not let that happen. He wouldn't allow any more deaths because of the war; because he couldn't get it together and kill his counterpart.
"I know, sir," Harry replied, waiting patiently. He was already ready, his trunk erect behind him and a note for Dippet in his hands. Dumbledore nodded, his eyes changing to a seemingly sad look, like he was about to lose a loved one. Harry couldn't understand why the headmaster bothered: things between them had already been icy at best.
"Reducio," Dumbledore said, pointing his wand at Harry's trunk. Instantly, the size decreased until it was conveniently a small, hand-sized trunk. Harry picked up the shrunken trunk and pocketed it, then tucking the letter into the same pocket.
"Remember: no matter how charming and nice Tom Riddle seems to be, he has already killed four, perhaps more, people. Don't become the next," Dumbledore said to Harry's careful expression.
"I understand, sir," Harry murmured respectively.
"If all goes to plan, you'll arrive during the end of Riddle's sixth year, at the muggle orphanage. If not, use the money in your trunk to wait it out. You cannot kill Riddle at Hogwarts by magical means. You can, however, make him to fall ill," Harry knew what the headmaster was getting at - make him ill by magic, watch him suffer through it and let it kill him so no one would suspect a murder.
"You will have an advantage. In all the years I knew him, Riddle had never been sick. When he does become sick, he will not know what to do," Harry nodded, he had expected as much.
"Good luck, my boy," Dumbledore said at last, pointing his wand directly at Harry.
"You too, Professor," the elderly wizard gave another small smile before uttering the words. To Harry, the world seemed to get sucked up into the roof – things were spinning so quickly it was hard to keep track of all the objects.
He felt a pulling sensation running the course of his body.
He saw the ground disappearing from under his feet as a mini-tornado began to form.
He clenched his eyes shut in anticipation.
AN - Don't worry, the next chapter will be longer. Much longer. This is just the prologue. Hardly even a chapter. Anyway, chapter two will be done soon.