Author's Notes: Hi! This is my first fanfic and if you got here to read it, thank you so much! Please review, your feedback is much appreciated! I'll be glad with just an 'I like it' if you don't feel like writing a long review. Thanks again!


Daughters of Time

Prologue

Hogwarts, October 31, 2187

Trembling, there they stood – four families, about to say goodbye to their firstborn daughters. The small girls were only a few days old, and were quivering in their blankets. One of them cried out, as if she knew what was waiting for her. The grown-ups waited, looking at the old man in their midst who was about to speak.

He rubbed his hands together as a harsh, cutting wind blew through the small group. They were all standing in the remains of what once had been Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle had been reduced to ruins by the current Dark Lord's last attack on it. That had been three years ago. Most students and teachers had died, brutally murdered by the attackers or killed by the falling stones.

The old magic that had stayed in the place swirled around the huddle in the middle. The adults shivered again, and their daughters all started to cry. One of the women joined them, quietly letting her tears stream down her cheeks.

After the babies' cries had been subsided, the old man coughed and started speaking. "We are here… to say goodbye… to these four girls." His voice was wheezy, and was barely heard through the gales of wind still rushing over the grounds. A different woman started sniffling. The man continued. "They are sought after by the Dark Lord… and will he succeed in destroying them, the world's balance will be destroyed with them, for they are the elements. That will leave Him free to rule over everything… Please, for the future of this world…" He coughed again. "Please, hand over your children, to give them and their peers a better future."

The woman holding her red-haired baby spoke up. "Is there really nothing else we could do? Anything?

The man next to her smiled cynically. "We've already been through this. There's nothing else, sweetheart."

In her green blanket, their daughter squirmed, blinking up at her mother with large blue eyes. The woman's lower lip trembled as she tucked the blanket tighter around her.

The old man held up four thin, golden necklaces. Each of them had a different coloured pendant of an hourglass hanging at the end, and everybody knew they were Time-Turners, meant to send their daughter into another time and age.

"Each of the girls will have one of these," the old man spoke again. "They will all be sent to different times, where I will be sure they'll be taken care of. If this experiment goes right, they'll be scattered through time, and the Dark Lord will no longer be able to reach them." He took a deep, ragged breath of air. "Daughter of Earth, please come forward."

The couple holding a small, blonde child stepped forward, and the old man carefully slipped the green Time-Turner around her little neck. "There," he said, then nodded. "You can take your place again."

The wind howled once more as they shuffled back, making room for the next couple. The father asked in a small voice: "Do you think they'll survive, sir?"

"I'm not sure," the old man admitted, but then he frowned. "You cannot retreat any longer. You MUST do this."

The father nodded and licked his lips, but spoke no more.

"Daughter of Fire," the old man rasped, "go on."

With one last exchanged look, the parents of the red-haired girl approached and bared her neck. The necklace with the red pendant was slipped on without a fuss and the mother and father quickly retreated again. The remaining couples looked uncomfortable and held their daughters closer, waiting for the next one to be called.

After a few quiet seconds, the old man said: "Daughter of Air."

The mother attempted to smile as the brought him her child. "Let's hope she won't be an airhead, right sir?"

He grunted and put the lilac Time-Turner around her daughter's neck. The father curiously looked at the necklace. "Do the colours have any significance, sir?"

"Yes, I wondered too," his wife added, "I thought they'd get the colours of the Houses…"

"How am I supposed to know in which House your daughter will be?" the old man countered grumpily. "I've had these things for ages; they've been passed down for centuries in my family until the prophecy's children were born. They are the destined children; I have to give them the pendants. I'm sorry, but I know nothing more than is told me."

She took a deep breath, breaking the tension in the air. "Sorry for asking."

The old man gestured for her and her husband to go back again. When they had, he called forward the last girl. "Daughter of Water."

The last couple came to collect their daughter's necklace as a very strong gust of wind nearly made everyone lose their footing. Her mother started crying again as the old man secured the necklace with a brief touch of his wand. She pressed her daughter's dark head to her cheek, letting the tears trickle into the girl's black hair. Her husband led her back to their place in the circle, wrapping his arm tightly around her.

Drops of rain started to fall, and the entire group apprehensively looked up. The Dark Lord's attacks were known for beginning with ominous thunderstorms, and indeed, an ill-omened dark sky was approaching from the south.

"Quickly," the old man breathed, "put them on the altar. No fooling around now."

The adults mingled a bit, all trying to give their daughter the best place on the large slab of stone that had been dubbed the altar. After several minutes, the babies were neatly aligned. Different girls with the same mission. Everyone was unsure whether to look at the children or at the sky as the thunderstorm rapidly approached.

"We have to complete the ceremony fast if we want to get out alive," the black-haired daughter's father said, his voice unsteady.

"No," the old man said sharply. "We can't rush. If need be, we all die, but the girls have to get out of here alive and well before He arrives. We have to do this right the first time. He knows what we're doing."

The silence was enough acceptance the old man needed, and he quickly drew his wand. "Everyone, get out your wands. We're going to activate the Time-Turners."

All of them shuffled together into a circle around the girls and held the points of their wands together above them. They chanted the spell, voices quivering but resolved, and slowly a pure white light began to glow in the centre.

The thunderstorm was now above their heads, and thick raindrops steadily made their way down their faces. Two of the women started to choke up, but they kept their wand steady, and gradually their daughters began to glow too.

"Almost there," the old man whispered.

A flash of lightning crashed down, immediately followed by a clap of thunder. A woman screamed, and a baby started wailing again.

"Now!" the old man screamed suddenly, and all adults pulled their wand away except for the man. He furiously yelled the incantation each of them had been waiting for, and then there was another flash of lightning, so bright everyone had to shield their eyes. Then there was a soft rush of wind, and by the time the parents could look again, the girls were gone.

The thunderstorm finally rose in earnest, and nobody could hold their ground as the squalls hurled them off their feet. Thunderbolt after thunderbolt followed, and they went deaf from all the noise the storm caused.

"Apparate!" one of the men screamed.

"You can't," a loud and booming voice said, and then the laughing started, cold and evil, and in the panic everybody lost each other in an attempt to get away. "Don't bother," the voice murmured. "You're dead, anyway." And with one last flash of green lightning, they were.


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