The Heir

The night air was thick with dust & mistrust. A heavy breathing came from near the entrance to the Forbidden Forrest. Someone else was out there. The leader of the Order of The Phoenix, Harry Potter, sat at the entrance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. Perched on the stairs, Harry reminisced over the past battles he had won & lost. He had grown older & wiser with time, but he knew this war wasn't his to fight. He had felt this before, this storm, and he knew another round with it would be foolish. The Dark had risen once again, a new leader at its helm, one that he had no connection with. Once he would've stood the test of time against any Dark wizard or witch, but he had firm beliefs that this wasn't his time to start going off & being a hero again. His time had come & passed, and he was going to leave it up to the younger Order members, those who had a personal fling with the Dark side, and had seen it rear its ugly head at the place where they felt most comfortable – school. As Harry stood up and looked behind him, a boy in a black cloak with a Gryffindor tie approached, his currently dark brown hair hanging in his eyes, his crystal blue eyes glinting in yearning to fight. The boy held two black bound leather diaries in his hands gently.. Yet Harry could sense a need around this boy, a need of something that wasn't yet there. Maybe it wasn't the boy's war either. Maybe they were all just victims of circumstance, waiting for a sign that the person who's war they were waging was there.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but instead a sharp wind, colder than the Antarctic waters, entered his mouth, causing him in turn to shut it again. The boy walked up to him, a loner in his kind, his hair suddenly turning a violent dark shade of black, making his light tan skin pop with every sharp contrast of his face shown. The sky, which had been growng darker as the boy had approached, had started to cry. The rain drizzled the both of their faces, making a stray tear that was running down Harry's opposite look normal. But they both knew that it was a tear of immense importance. It meant that she wasn't coming. "Uncle Harry, I didn't mean to scare her off. She's the only one who-" he paused, his thoughts overriding his need to speak. Continuing a few moments later, his voice grew small & soft, so that you could barely hear it unless you listened closely, "she's the only one who can save us now." He rubbed the spines of the diaries. It was the last memory of her he had.

Harry grimaced softly, a sigh escaping his mouth. Teddy Lupin had a lot to learn, and so Harry had yet to teach him. But now was not the time. A young woman with a head of bright red hair approached the pair, who had seemed to stop talking, and tapped the younger on the shoulder. He turned around and looked at the redhead, more tears welling in his eyes. He knew what he had to say. "Victorie, I don't love you." The girl, who had seemed happy enough, ready to help the boy, ran off into the school. She, who had stood by him for countless months, ran away from someone who she had thought she had loved. The wind grew stronger, pushing Harry to sit back down again, and the boy known as Teddy to lean against the brick of the school.

Suddenly, there was a loud howl & a large black Newfoundland dog burst through the underbrush. The two solemn men's faces lit up. She had come. She truly was the heir of the prophecy. But to grasp the true prophecy, and to understand why this all was so important, you need to look in those two books Teddy held in his hands. This story is a complicated one, and to really grasp it, you need to go back about nine months ahead of this dreadful day, to the first day of school. You need to read the diaries of Cassieopeia & Teddy Lupin. And you will, all in good time.