AN~ This is my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fanfic, so please tell me whether or not it's any good. R + Review!

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Chapter One – of Stray Curses and the Twiddling of Time

Jinxes and curses were flying everywhere, disturbing the peace of the ancient grounds. Hogwarts was under siege; its earth tainted with bloodshed, and the once impenetrable darkness of midnight around the castle was now alight with numerous sparks – each containing deadly poison; sent with aim but no guilt.

In the midst of the din and chaos were two duelling figures: one, clearly the elder of the two, standing with an unshakable confidence while performing advanced curses perfected after decades of practice; the other, noticeably younger and less-experienced, held an equal sense of confidence powered by determination etched in her fiercely blazing eyes.

Neither spoke.

They were both deeply entranced in the curses thrown by the other – blocking out their awareness of the battle around them.

Suddenly, a brilliant streak of violet light escaped from the battle and interrupted their duel.

Lord Voldemort paused for a millisecond as he noticed it flying towards him.

"Tempus Rindictus!"

A second beam of light made their way towards him, royal blue in colour.

A small flicker of surprise was registered in the blood-red eyes of the Dark Lord – the only characteristic visible behind the dark robes and mask – before the two beams intertwined and hit him squarely in the chest.

Everyone seemed to freeze at this, as if someone had simply pressed the 'pause' button on a remote control. Then, slowly, the combined beams came back out of Voldemort's chest and flew into his opponent's.

A brilliant white light then surrounded the two, making everyone avert their eyes, confused and wary. When the white light had gone all eyes returned to the pair – or, to be more precise, the empty space in the middle of the battlefield that previously, only seconds before, held a fiercely duelling pair.

Lord Voldemort and Hermione Granger had seemingly vanished.

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"Professor, what happened?" Harry asked for the millionth time.

Dumbledore paused, a grave look painted on his face, before answering, "I'm not sure what exactly happened, Harry," he stopped and looked at Harry through his half-moon glasses. He leaned back and sighed.

"I can only give you my best guesses, but at the moment there can be any number of estimations."

"But your guesses are always right, aren't they?" Harry said quickly, "I mean, last year, you knew all about Draco's plan to murder you."

Dumbledore allowed himself a small smile, though there was no sign of that familiar twinkle in his eyes, "Not always, but mostly."

"Where do vanished objects go?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

"Er…what?"

"Where do vanished objects go?" Professor Dumbledore repeated.

"Um…into non-being…everywhere?" Harry ventured, remembering the riddles at the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower.

"Yes. The spell that Hermione hit Voldemort with, Tempus Rindictus, is an immensely complex curse that manipulates time. It was designed to entrap the victim in a timeless era, a place that is neither here nor there. The victim would forever be captured in the seams of time, as though vanished. In other words, they go into non-being, which is everywhere."

"So…Voldemort's gone?" whispered Harry, hardly able to believe he had escaped his fate. But what about –

" Hermione— "

"Remember the first unidentifiable spell that hit Voldemort? That altered the second in some way, so, no, Hermione is not vanished along with Lord Voldemort. I guess they would be somewhere along the fragile thread of time. The best we can do now is to hope for the best, Harry."

Harry slumped down into the chair, feeling as though Voldemort had already won the war. Dumbledore had not explained anything. Yet again, it was all mysteries and no answers. He seemed to be losing all those who were close to him…First his parents, then Sirius, now one of his best friends. He took Dumbledore's advice to heart, fervently praying to the gods above that Hermione might one day return from this ordeal. It was all he could hope for as the sun outside the Headmaster's study window slowly reached its zenith.

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Meanwhile, in a heavily warded cave amongst the Himalayas, a group sat huddled around a fire. They each wore a hooded cloak that disguised their faces, but even without the visual aids it was clear that the atmosphere was tense. Whispers echoed to and from the cave walls.

"What happened?"

"You don't think it was that Mudblood's fault!"

"Who else could it be, Rabastan?"

"He's not dead, is he?"

"Shush…if he isn't you'd be."

"What do we do now?"

"We're being rounded up by the minute without his leadership!"

One spoke louder than the rest.

"We need to elect a new leader." He said, his voice carrying an authority only evident in the aristocratic.

All the hooded heads turned in his direction.

Silence.

Finally, another hooded figure sitting opposite the man asked, "But, Lucius…what about…" The figure paused to find a suitable word. Upon finding none, he said, "What about him?"

Lucius Malfoy's reply was brisk, "Forget about Voldemort –" Everyone gasped. "— he's gone. Just like seventeen years ago, he has once again abandoned us, but this time perhaps for good."

Another raised his hood slightly, the tip of a greasy nose showing in the dim light of the fire. "But the question is, who will be the new leader?"

"Myself, of course." Said Lucius, glaring at everyone present, as though daring them to disagree. An uncomfortable silence followed.

All at once, the silence was broken by a shuffling sound and a furious shout of protest.

"I refuse!" Heads turned again to face Bellatrix Black, the infamous torturer of the Longbottoms. She stood, her eyes blazing and wand out.

"Avada—"

"—Kedavra!"

A collective gasp rang throughout the huddled circle; the atmosphere no longer tense, but fearful. The body of the former most devoted Death Eater amongst them now lay unmoving on the floor.

Lucius Malfoy strode around her, looking at the motley crowd with cold grey eyes; wand still in hand.

"Anyone else who disagrees?" he asked. Though this subtle threat was only a shadow of Lord Voldemort's, it was enough to crush any thought of rebellion.

Slowly, one of the hooded figures dropped onto his knees, crawled towards Lucius Malfoy, and kissed the hem of his robe. The others soon followed, murmuring words of adoration that had previously been reserved for Voldemort.

Lucius raised the corner of his mouth in a smile. His reign had finally begun.