Out of the Shadows
Chapter one: Blissful
After life, decided Albus Dumbledore, was not as bad as everyone thought. It was white, with the occasional soul floating around. There were few trees with houses, but they were for the more powerful of the witches and wizards.
"Albus Dumbledore," whispered a silky, melancholy voice. Albus turned his head and saw a young woman, whose sorrow blue eyes got Albus's attention right away.
"Yes," he answered. Her lips twitched in an attempt to smile before saying, "Come with me to the Fate room." She floated off, her white dress flying after her as if she was on a broomstick.
"Albus Dumbledore," boomed a majestic voice. Albus glanced around the white room. No one.
"Yes?" Albus answered politely.
"Your time is not up yet, however, in this time it is." Albus blinked and thought, What?…. Timetravel!
"Yes, Albus Dumbledore, you will be traveling back to 1992. You have made many mistakes since then but we have decided you should start at-,"
"Harry's second year," Albus said softly. He felt his eyes prickle at the thought if the child who brought to him so much happiness and greatness to the world. His sparkling green eyes, grinning face and messy hair.
"Yes Albus, you shall start where you should have begun giving him guidance. Do not mess up to much of time."
"Yes, Fate, I will not mess up time." As Albus said this, he felt a jolt and he felt as if he were falling again, off the Astronomy tower, to his grave.
The morning of July 30 brought Harry into something he would never think to be important.
"WAKE UP BOY!" shouted his aunt into his door. Harry rolled over and scowled.
"One more day," he told himself. "One more day!"
Harry quickly dressed into gardening clothes, but not leaving before he checked himself in the mirror. He saw his green eyes, not hidden behind glasses due to the contacts he bought. He had deep messy hair and a pale sort of face, no matter how much time he spent outside in the sun.
A flash of fire caught his attention. He jumped, his hand held out in a defense action. Over the past two months, he dedicated himself to learning wandless magic- and that to his surprise he excelled in.
Fawkes placed a letter on the table, thrilled softly before disappearing. Harry stared at the letter, his eyes wide in shock at the handwriting.
Harry was written on the cover. Harry lifted the letter with trembling hands and opened the seal.
My Dearest Harry,
I am pained that I have to write this letter, to tell you that I am dead. NO matter how I died, my child, I will be watching over you.
As you know, Severus Snape is not faithful to the light side. He was a triple agent. He gave half bits of information to us and more information to his Master, Lord Voldemort. I am sorry that I hadn't listened to you or many others that told me he was not loyal to our side.
Harry felt anger and grief wield up in him. Snape was the reason Albus was dead, the reason his last father figure was dead- well more like a grandfather figure.
Child, if I died by his hand, I do not want to go after him.
'Why not!' Harry thought indignantly.
Now, now, I have a different take on hand for you. I would like you to take this necklace and travel back into your 12th birthday.
I would like you to change things you feel is important: Say perhaps Sirius's death?
'Or yours!' Harry thought.
Wear this necklace at all times in the past, as it is not only what brings you back in time but is both your mother and father's wedding rings.
My gift, my Lightning child, for you on your 17th birthday, is Time.
Love,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry stared at the letter, re-read it and felt tears he did not know he had, drip down his cheeks.
He held the envelope and felt the weight of the rings in it. He slide the rings down out of the envelope and into his hands.
Two lay in his hands, with a golden chain. One was larger, obviously males, with a shined band with a red ruby in the middle and two smaller diamonds on the side. Harry fingered the ring, feeling the inscription inside.
To James "Prongs" Potter, my stag in my life, my love and my husband, Love you with all my heart and soul, Lily "Flower" Evans- Potter.
Harry smiled and looked at the smaller band. It was gold, shinned and small. Harry could almost imagine his mother's hand, small and delicate, with this ring on it. It was, like the other, had a ruby in the center and instead of two diamonds had two emeralds.
The inscription said, To Lily "Flower" Evans- Potter, who I love more than any flower, sun or soul in the world. Love, James "Prongs" Potter.
Harry undid the clasp, out in on the slid them into his shirt. The two cold bands felt good against his chest. He fiddled with them before replacing them under his shirt.
He did not want neither of his relatives try to take one of the last things he had of his parents.
He was falling, falling before he fell into his chair in his office. He felt as if he had fallen of a ledge and landed into his own body. He felt his face, his glasses than, just to reassure himself, his pulse. It was beating strong and faithfully.
A knock at the door brought his attention away from his pulse. He smiled and said, "Come in Minerva."
She entered, looking frazzled, her bun messy and her glasses almost off her nose. She carried a large pile of letters.
Albus felt a throb of happiness go though his body and he got up and helped her with the letters.
Albus caught sight of the green ink and felt his lips twitch beneath his white beard.
"Thank you," she breathed, clutching her heart and sitting down. "I just finished the rest." She gave him a smile. "I used Helga's quill for most of them."
He nodded to her and said, "We'll owl them off tonight." He glanced at his watch, the same one he had when he dropped Harry off and said pleasantly, "Would you like some tea?"
Harry clutched the two rings, as he made his upstairs, trying not to loose his temper. He felt his check swelling and his lip bleeding.
His uncle had gotten a letter today, addressing that his headmaster had died and was not headmaster.
Harry scrubbed the pan dutifully, his stomach growling, as he washed the food down the sink. Apparently, he had not cut the rose bush well enough.
A meaty hand whirled him around, making him drop the pan, and he came face to face with his uncle's steaming face. He raced his hand and WAHM!
He felt his lip split and he grimaced and touched his lip. He stood shocked before glaring at his uncle.
"Do you know what this is?" He hissed, holding out a clenched paper in his hand. Harry took it from him with uncertainly and un- crumpled it.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,
I regret to inform you of the passing of Albus Dumbledore. In his place as Headmaster, we will be placing Minerva McGonagall as Headmistress.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Harry sighed and looked up into his uncle's now maniacal grin. He raised his hand again but Harry ducked under it and glared.
"Leave boy!" The kitchen door slammed behind him. He scowled and shoved the paper into his pocket.
Furiously, he packed his trunk, his older books in different sections.
He had gotten a trunk like Moody's, except it had four compartments. He placed his third, fourth, fifth and sixth books in the fourth compartment; in his third, he placed all the essays, quizzes and his OWL results in this compartment. In his boredom, he placed them in folders labeled, 1st year, 2nd year, 3rd year, 4th year, 5th year and 6th year.
On the second compartment, he placed his potions he made over the break (Polyjuice left over from second year, healing potions, Fawkes's tears and many other things) and his journal of training sessions he had with Albus and his learning's over the summer. In addition, he had his Occlumency and Legimency books, which he read and re-read constantly.
Plopping down on the bed, he fiddled with his necklace. He wore simple clothes, and his contacts.
The clock struck 12:00 and Harry felt a jolt in his stomach and he felt as if he were in a dream falling forever.
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Bookworm622