Harry Halliwell
by garggirl
All canon characters appearing in this fic are copyright J.K. Rowling and Constance M. Burge, respectively
No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder.
All original characters are the property of garggirl.
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Prologue
A chill wind swept through the open window of the D.A.D.A. professor's chambers, prickling the skin of Harry Potter as he slept. His sleeping form highlighted only by the gentle flickering of a lone candle on a desk a short distance away.
Since he had joined the Hogwarts' faculty almost eight months earlier, Harry had been plagued with horrible, hellish nightmares the likes of which he hadn't experienced since the second fall of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort. While most of the dreams had made it a restless sleep, somehow tonight's dream was different. Indeed, he was still tossing and turning, but this dream in particular didn't fill his senses with dread.
In his mind's eye, Harry was standing in a dark room. The only light in the room eminating from an unseen source suspended high over a dias upon which hovered three ghostly forms. Before the dias was two more people -- a male and a female, both quite solid.
"Hello?" Harry called out. No answer was forthcoming. "Hello?" he tried again. Whatever was happening, the dream was clearly not allowing Harry to interact with the dream people.
"My lords," the man started. "We come from the future to warn you about it. The Charmed Ones are going to get the Hollow at the same time Billie and Christy will."
"Which means we've gotta get to it before they do this time," the girl added.
Harry jumped in surprise as four more people, all female, appeared in a quick flash of light.
The man shouted at his companion. "Get out of here!"
Harry watched in quiet fascination as three of the four newcomers threw small phials of red liquid at the dias. He furrowed his brow in confusion as the phials broke open upon contact with the ghostly figures. Impossible, ghosts had no corporeal mass. Quickly, Harry decided that since this was a dream, laws of reality really didn't apply. The ghosts fizzled into smoke with a loud hiss.
"NO!" the man screamed.
"Oh, yes," the eldest of the girls replied firmly. Suddenly, the girl thrust her hands out. Instantly, the man exploded.
Harry took a tentative step back. Wandless AND wordless magic? He could see that the man's companion was just as surprised as he was.
"I don't understand!" the girl exclaimed. "How could this happen?"
Another one of the four was the next to speak, motioning to the youngest of her group. "Billie projected us here."
"By focusing on you," the sandy blonde girl add.
"Paige," the eldest said firmly. "Ring!"
Harry watched as a ring with a large coral stone disappeared off the lone girl's hand and reappeared across the room in the outstretched hand of the girl called Paige.
"How could you?" said the girl, whom Harry assumed was Christy to the one identified as Billie.
"Christy, please," Billie pleaded. "It's over. Just come home."
Christy's face twisted up into a sneered, and she formed a reddish-orange ball of swirling fire. She threw it at Billie.
"Watch out!" Harry called out, briefly forgetting that no one could hear him.
Suddenly, Harry watched as Billie reflected the fireball back at Christy, the flames consuming her body before both Christy and the flames fizzled out into nothing.
Harry's eyes filled with sadness as he watched Billie fall to her knees in a watershed of tears. Ever the gentleman, Harry moved to Billie, wanting desperately to comfort the devastated girl, but just before he reached her, the scene shifted and reformed to reveal a brightly lit sitting room.
The mood here was vastly different from the one that he just left. Here, ten adults -- five men and five women of varying ages -- and two small boys were hugging and laughing. Three of the women, Harry recognized from the previous scene, that of Paige and the other two unmentioned women.
Just as suddenly as the scene had appeared, it melted away into a dark void, slipping Harry into a deep, dreamless state, the tossing and turning suddenly ceasing.
If anyone had been awake in the room, surely they would've heard the strange, lyrical voice that carried on the wind.
"Hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of gods are invoked here, the great magic is sought. In this night and in this hour, I call upon the ancient power. Come to us, we call you near. Come to us and settle here. Blood to blood, I summon thee. Blood to blood, return to me."
The wind suddenly picked up, flickering the candle's flames before finally extinguishing it.
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