A/N: Hello there, friends ! As you can surely tell I am embarking on another adventure this time in the realm of Harry Potter, I have developed this story a whole lot more than I did Ava's (many respects). I have each chapter already planned and panned out, so hopefully (keep your fingers crossed) I will have a new chapter for you, the ever-so-wonderful reader, every week. As for reviews: if you like it, tell me, if you don't like it, don't read it, and if you have suggestions on how I could make my story better leave a CONSTUCTED review and I'll decide whether or not I want to listen to you ;)

The church was a dark place; rows upon rows were the audience to scene on the stage. An evil man with snake like eyes and nose, his skin snow white, held a young woman by her neck a wand pointed to her temple.

"Did you think that you could hide from the Dark Lord?" he asked, his voice snake-like and dangerous, the woman didn't answer she glared at the Dark Lord, no fear showed in her eyes.

"Where are they," the Dark Lord continued, pressing the tip of his wand harder into her temple, "I know you know the location? Where are they?" The man's voice echoed throughout the church.

"I would never tell you," the woman finally said, unwavering. "I'd rather die than betray my friends."

The Dark Lord let out a growl of anger. "You want death? You would leave your husband, you daughter right now, rather than tell me the location of the Potters?" He let out a high pitch shrill of laughter.

"You think I'm going to grant you death, and allow you to escape having to answer to me, well you're sorely mistaken. Have you ever heard of the Five Year Death? One simple incantation and you will endure five years of death, or you could tell me the location of the Potters and I will let you and family live."

She stared blatantly into his eyes and said, "I would endure a thousand years of death rather than betray my friends."

The Dark Lord's face contorted and shouted "Cinq Mortes!" There was a flash of yellow light and the memory went foggy.

A man with reddish brown hair pulled his head out of the bowl and looked to a man sitting in a chair cross armed.

"Well?" Asked the man sitting in the chair, he had short light brown hair, he appeared no older than twenty-six but he had streaks of gray and his robes were patchy.

"Five Year Death," said the man who pulled his head out of the bowl, his face was pale; he had dark circles under his eyes.

"Should have known," said the man with the patchy robes, "they say that curse is so painful, those affected by it seldom live past the first year, how Sirina pulled through it all five I don't know, Cyril I'm so sorry."

"What do I do, Remus," Asked Cyril rubbing his eyes, "what do I tell Lena? She saw her mother die in her bed; she must want to know why."

Remus looked sympathetically at Cyril, "Cyril, you tell her that her mother fought bravely against disease, I wouldn't tell her why, not quite yet, a five year old wouldn't understand." Remus got up from his chair and grabbed the empty vial that was sitting on the shelf; he retrieved the contents of the bowl and put it into the vial, and corked the top. Cyril looked at Remus curiously, as Remus strode to a dark corner and placed the vial in the crack of the wall.

A/N: Well, there you go: the beginning chapter, I really do hope you like, I did it relatively fast so ignore some minor grammar mistakes if you can. Look for the second chapter tonight or tomorrow.