Chapter One

The Meeting in the Woods

He walked through the forest with the child in his arms and a wand in his robes. Out of the haze he came, bearing a trimmed beard and brown shaggy hair that stuck out from the base of his tipped, pointed hat. His name was Edimus, and every time the ground crackled beneath his dark boot, the fog dispersed around his heel, as if the mist that shrouded the wood was terrified by his very touch. The girl he was carrying was just past her first decade of youth, and her jet black hair swung as the sorcerer marched on and on through the lonely green thicket, in search of the perfect place to put her.

When he was sure he was deep enough into the trees, Edimus let go of the girl's body. Instead of falling, she slowly sank down to the ground, until she gently came to rest beside a bed of mandrake roots.

The screaming will be enough to wake her, he thought. When they sprout, that is.

Now standing upright once again, the sorcerer removed his wand from the confinements of his black attire–as black as the coming night–with a silent flourish.

"What are you doing, Edimus?" came a voice from the shadows. From behind a tree, a wizard emerged, dressed quite similarly to the man he was addressing. His eyes were a light chestnut color, glinting calmly but questioningly at Edimus's dull gray. Their hair, however, was exactly alike.

"I could ask you the same thing, Aximus," replied the sorcerer. "Following me, are you? Did Mother send you?"

A smile snuck itself to the sides of the newcomer's face. It wasn't a happy smile, but a bitter one.

"Like you, I have not spoken with her in years, Edimus. You know that." His eyes came to rest on the girl, lying unconscious among the twigs and leaves. A raven cawed from above, and landed on the limb of a nearby tree. The two brothers gazed at one another in its presence, until Aximus finally drew his own wand from his robes. He raised it, and there was a flash of bright green light as the bird dropped to the ground.

"His watchers are everywhere, Edimus," whispered the wizard, glancing at the deceased creature. "You must understand how dangerous this is."

"I do," replied Edimus. "I understand many things, Brother. Some things…more so than you, yourself." With his wand, he gestured to the one lying between them. The girl's breathing was slow and steady. She was at peace, but it wouldn't stay that way for long."And that is why I must deliver the girl tonight. I don't expect you to recognize…the weight of what I am–"

"Do not patronize me–Brother. Let us not forget, it was I who made you a part of all this. It was I who prompted the Mistress to accept you. My mistake, clearly. You couldn't get out when you had the chance, you were weak. I left because it was right, but you….You found all the wrong reasons to stay. Still, if anyone, I blame myself."

Edimus' eyes lit up at the richness of his brother's ejection. "Do I detect your envy, Aximus? Surely, I would know. This wouldn't be the first time you've found yourself at odds with my own success. I pity you, Brother, truly."

Aximus laid his hand on the tree and leaned in a bit, whispering, "Then you pity yourself, by default. Everything you are…you are here because of me."

Edimus regarded his brother calculatingly. "And why are you here, tonight, Aximus? To hinder me? To try?"

His brother sneered.

"You know why I can never do that. The vow still holds. Nineteen years, it has been," Aximus then declared, "and I still fear for you, but I cannot touch you. Please, Brother, there is still time. We can find another way to end this together, without taking her life away from her. She will be an outcast to them. And the Potters! Merlin's beard, the Potters, what of them?"

Edimus scoffed.

"This is her life," he said. "I am simply giving it to her. She was meant for nothing else but to be the one that could restore balance. And since when do you feel guilt for them? The Potters of this world deserve what is to come. It is as the Sorceress would have it."

This prompted Aximus's rage even more so.

"Do not speak to me of prophecies! Especially ones that bear not even an ounce of truth."

"You should feel proud, Brother," the sorcerer told Aximus. "I am at last doing what Mother wanted us to do. She will rejoice when she hears what I have done, in the name of the Mistress, her sister."

"And what of the others, Edimus? What will happen when the rest of our world learns of the treason that you have committed? What will your punishment be, when merely being here suffices for execution?"

"Must you be so naïve, Brother?" Edimus scolded with grit teeth. "It is clear that the importance of what I am doing, is beyond your youthful mind. I am afraid wisdom is not the most loyal of companions, even with age, as you yourself only prove by remaining here any longer. Leaving would be best, I am sure."

Edimus then drew a strange pocket watch from his robes. The gold artifact clicked open, and its owner stared at the odd series of planets that moved around the edge of it. He understood it perfectly, however, and returned it to the inside of his cloak.

"The train will be arriving at the school in exactly a day," he announced to the forest. "It is time. The summoning shall begin."

Aximus breathed deeply, and the brothers shared a silent agreement (quite a rarity, in truth) that they simply were not going to agree.

On that paradoxical note, Aximus gave his younger brother one last piece of advice.

"You cannot delay it, you know. One day, she will come, and upon her return, you will wonder why you ever thought you had a chance. Placing your trust in this witch…it will be the death of you, of all of us. Not even Dormin and his watchers can stop her. Hear me now, believe me later. Goodbye, Little Brother." And with a CRACK!, Aximus was gone.

Now alone, except for the sleeping child lying before him, Edimus could return to the task at hand. Kneeling down beside her, he touched his wand to the girl's temple and began whispering incantations that surely would have sounded ridiculous to the likes of non-magic folk.

He rose, once he was finished, cloaked in black and starting to feel chilly, but his heart as warm as ever.

Now, the sorcerer's wand rose gloriously into the air, and two words passed through his lips.

"Drusilius dronum."

A dim pulse grew from his wand, and slowly erupted into a blanket of light before him.

"Drusilius dronum."

The light pulsed more, and then the whole light began to fade. Through it, Edimus could see the black tassels of a dark cloak, blowing faintly in the wind. A cold feeling crept over him, and suddenly it was as if emptiness reigned throughout his entire being. Hope was gone from the world, extinct from his mind. It was worse than sadness, he longed for sadness. Anything but this, his mind pleaded.

"Drusilius dronum." These words hardly came out, but he succeeded in uttering them one last time.

The dim light finally faded away, and the coldness increased.

But the dark, hooded figure that hovered before him, did not approach him. Instead, it began turning its attention to the girl, lying only feet away A sucking sound came from whatever was under the creature's hood, a secret that the sorcerer had no desire to uncover.

Edimus' mind grew hollower, and he just managed to stuff his wand back into his cloak, before stepping into the mist and vanishing from the wood.

In the sorcerer's absence, the hooded creature bent further down, his ominous hood just inches from her face. Her face was losing color, but the enchantments that Edimus had placed on her were keeping her from waking up. The dark creature's hissing sound grew louder, more intense. The girl was white as a sheet, and her chest heaved.

Finally, the dementor floated upward, away from the girl, its purpose completed.

And into the fog, the hooded creature drifted away, swallowed into the misty night.

The Dementor's Kiss was over.

The girl's body lie there, some of the color returning to her cheeks and lips. She remained unconscious throughout the night, and all through the following day. It was when the next night fell, however, that the mandrakes began to sprout from their fertile prison.

Their shrieks echoed across the woods, and the girl's eyes fluttered open.