Prologue
-
Twas a dark and dreary morn, and a light rain drizzled down on the peoples of Diagon Ally. The numbers ninty-three shined dimly in the lamplight, the sun having not yet risen.
"Blimey dad!" a teen with hair touched by the breath of dragon spoke, leaning back on a counter within the shop. "We'll be alright! You can stop 'excorting' us to work everyday."
"Yeah dad," another said, with the same dragon touched hair as the last, leaning back on a chair opposite to his twin. "We'll be just fine. You-Know-Who isn't goin' ta show up here."
"I cannot help but worry," a balding man said, his little hair matching the two teens'. Fear shown abright in his brown eyes. "Now... you took all your precautions?"
"Yes dad," the boy at the counter said boredly.
"You made sure to lock any back entrances?"
"Yes dad," the next boy said, his voice matching his brother's.
"You-"
"For the millionith time, yes!" both shouted at the same time, pushing up from their resting places restlessly. Before either of them could open their mouths to complain, there was a knock at the door. The man jumped, and glanced at the door, before looking at the two boys.
"It's too early for customers..."
"Don't sweat dad," the boy from the counter said, moving to the door. "It's probably just someone wanting to place an order, or ask a question..."
"Or stalk us to our doom," the other boy joked. The man glared at them both.
"This is -not- a laughing matter," he snapped at him. "Do -not- open that door George."
"Fine," the boy said, before opening the door. "And I'm Fred..."
He turned to look at whom was outside, only to see a cloacked figure. He froze, shocked, and backed up. His brother sat back down slowly, his skin paling.
"G-go away!" the man yelled hoarshy at the cloaked figure. The figure didn't answer, only brought long, skiny hands up slowly to it's hood. The three, dragon-touched men all stared at the figure, bitting their lips and waiting for the worst...
There was a small laugh, and the figure pulled down it's hood...
-
Twas a dark and dreary morn, and a light rain drizzled down on the peoples of Diagon Ally. The numbers ninty-three shined dimly in the lamplight, the sun having not yet risen.
"Blimey dad!" a teen with hair touched by the breath of dragon spoke, leaning back on a counter within the shop. "We'll be alright! You can stop 'excorting' us to work everyday."
"Yeah dad," another said, with the same dragon touched hair as the last, leaning back on a chair opposite to his twin. "We'll be just fine. You-Know-Who isn't goin' ta show up here."
"I cannot help but worry," a balding man said, his little hair matching the two teens'. Fear shown abright in his brown eyes. "Now... you took all your precautions?"
"Yes dad," the boy at the counter said boredly.
"You made sure to lock any back entrances?"
"Yes dad," the next boy said, his voice matching his brother's.
"You-"
"For the millionith time, yes!" both shouted at the same time, pushing up from their resting places restlessly. Before either of them could open their mouths to complain, there was a knock at the door. The man jumped, and glanced at the door, before looking at the two boys.
"It's too early for customers..."
"Don't sweat dad," the boy from the counter said, moving to the door. "It's probably just someone wanting to place an order, or ask a question..."
"Or stalk us to our doom," the other boy joked. The man glared at them both.
"This is -not- a laughing matter," he snapped at him. "Do -not- open that door George."
"Fine," the boy said, before opening the door. "And I'm Fred..."
He turned to look at whom was outside, only to see a cloacked figure. He froze, shocked, and backed up. His brother sat back down slowly, his skin paling.
"G-go away!" the man yelled hoarshy at the cloaked figure. The figure didn't answer, only brought long, skiny hands up slowly to it's hood. The three, dragon-touched men all stared at the figure, bitting their lips and waiting for the worst...
There was a small laugh, and the figure pulled down it's hood...