Prologue

Disclaimer: J.K.'s got me beat by ten years! All credit for that which you recognize is hers!


Her bushy grey hair fell across her sweat soaked face; beside her stood a tall and lanky man just as old as she is. The two had their wands up high, their track suits tattered and torn; both were fighting with all their might against a fifteen-year-old girl.

The girl's red hair was a darker, deeper red than the mans, in his younger days. Her eyes were like her grandmothers, deep toffee-brown and seemingly endless. Her long hair was pulled up into a plait and changing shades of crimson rapidly, it swished in it's ponytail as she ducked a particularly harsh blue curse from the womans' wand.

"Grandma!" The girl cried indignantly, spitting out a lock of auburn from her mouth. "What if I didn't dodge that in time?"

"That's not a possibility." The grandmother said, shaking a strand of frizzy grey hair from her face as her partner shot yet another curse at the girl.

"Petrificus Totalus." The girl cried after dodging the curse, and pointed her wand at the man

"Bleeding Hell." Her white haired grandfather cried, as he fell towards the ground. The force of his body's fall sent a wave of dust from the ground and into the surrounding air. The practice room they were in was so large and dark; you could barely see the dueling figures unless you knew they were there.

"Grandfather," The girl stopped dueling and squinted her eyes in worry, "Are you alright?"

"Of course he is." The grandmothers' weary voice called back, "You know better than to stop without disarming all of your opponents. I could have hexed you as you stood"

With a lazy flick of her wand the girl exhaled heavily before wordlessly disarming her grandmother.

"Happy?" She said bitterly, hardening her gaze "I have now successfully dueled against my beloved grandparents and won."

"It hurts us too to do this." The old lady whispered. "I never thought all the responsibility would transfer from Harry to my own grandchild."

"Grandma, there is no responsibility." The girl walked over to her grandmother who was crying silently, and handed over the fallen wand. "I highly doubt I will ever be able to face the Dark Lord, let alone meet him."

"It's been foreseen." The grandfathers' old deep voice called, the freezing spell now lifted. As the man stood, the lighting in the room as restored, revealing the sharp contours of the walls, the grey paint and the countless number of newspaper articles that covered its walls. If you got close enough to read any of them, you'd see that each and ever one was about Harry Potter, the Boy-That-Failed-to-Live. "Once the hero fails." The man quoted, and was soon joined by the woman.

"A chosen shall be born, on the eve of his death. Whose parents have defied the dark-lord naught, and whose' grandparents, but for his fall, have nothing else sought. A new era shall be born and a new chosen with it. On the eve of his death, shall be her birth. Neither can live while the other survives; the dark-lord shall create his own falling. And on the day of her birth shall she be born again in another time. On the day of her birth shall she begin to gain powers of which he knows naught. Of which he can't obtain and has forever sought."

"And she shall see in a new era." The girl finished, rather thoughtfully. Her face, now visible in the light, held traces of both grandparents in it. Yet her tanned skin-tone was strictly of her fathers' side of the family. "And you believe that that's me. Right?

"Yes. Nick." The grandfather said. "We bloody do."

"Enough with the British already." Nick sighed exasperatedly, trying to lighten the mood. Her grandfather pulled her close and rubbed her forehead affectionately, as his wife worked to heal the bruise spreading on his arm.

"Never thought I'd have an American as a granddaughter." He looked over to his wife lovingly and smiled. "What would Fred and George have said?"

"They would have been proud of you for marrying anybody to begin with Ron."

"Hermione, we all know you've always loved me." Ron lifted his bruised arm out of Hermione's grip and hugged both of the women in his life with each arm. They laughed together before walking out of the room and up the stairs. Ron was the last to walk out; he looked over at the newspaper closest the light switch before turning it off.

"Order in Hiding.

The group of miscreants that has continuously attempted to defy the Dark Lord has fallen apart since the death of their ringleader, Harry Potter.

Remus Lupin, werewolf and blood-traitor, was lynched outside of Rochester, NY on the night of the fifth. He, along with members McGonagall and Longbottom, were found in a raid that resulted in the deaths of two pureblooded wizards. The murderers were successfully captured, but only after the losses of decorated Aurors Nott and Goyle, sons to Death-eaters, whose deaths we observe mournfully.

Hermione Granger-Weasley and Ron Weasley are still in hiding; their child Megan Zabini denies having any contact with them in recent times.

'Nasty Blood-Traitors.' Her husband Blaise Zabini says during our interview, "They kidnapped our only daughter Nicole when we dropped her off to start her education. Haven't had any contact with my daughter in four-years'"

'How has this affected your family?' I asked Mr. Zabini, while visiting in their American Manor.

'It tore my dear wife apart. Our house has lost its dark-light without our only daughter and heir.' He answered, and asks that we keep his family in our prayers.

The remaining members of the Order are Severus Snape, a former death-eater and mudblood, and a metamorphagi Nymphadora Tonks, also a mudblood. Both are charged with murder, heretics and treason in the case of Severus Snape, who disappeared shortly after the unveiling of his cure for Lycanthropy. The ingrediants are still unkown and authorities ask that if anybody should capture the villain, that he is turned in alive for-"

Grimacing slightly, the man stopped reading the article and flicked the light switch with a battle-scarred hand.

"It'll all be over soon." He said to himself ruefully. "Two more years." He said as he walked up the narrow cemented stairs to the living room.

A/N Tell me what you think!!