This is my latest story idea, and I was really excited to start writing it. This first bit is just the prologue, and while it is very short, I felt that it was the best place to start. Please leave me reviews, as the number of reviews I get will definitely influence how quickly the next chapter comes along.

And of course, the Disclaimer. JK Rowling owns her characters. I am merely a child playing with the building blocks she gave me. However, in this prologue, the line "everyone and everything has a time to die" is from Sabriel by Garth Nix. So Rowling obviously doesn't own that particular line, and neither do I.

1947

Deep within the Department of Mysteries sat the fabled Hall of Prophecy. Late on evening, long after all the Unspeakables had left, thousands of spun glass orbs sat upon rows after rows of shelves.

Some of the orbs gave off a slight glow, hampered by the thick layer of dust upon most of them, and others sat still and dark. The hall was light with soft blue light that came from these small glass spheres.

In the silence of the night, down row sixty-two sat one of these globes. The light within it glowed softly underneath the dust. Without warning the light grew bright and brilliant. The dust seemed to melt away and two pearly figures became visible within it.

A harsh voice began to speak, echoing loudly in the silent hall, despite the low whisper of the voice. One figure was tall, wearing half-moon spectacles that sat on the end of a long crooked nose, he was looking intently at the other figure.

The second woman had a shawl draped over her head, and beads tied into the strands of hair that hung down over her shoulders. One hand was pressed against her heart, and the bangles on her wrist had slid down to her elbow.

It was this woman who was speaking, seemingly unaware of her company. The words hung heavy in the dust filled air, and seemed to fade much more slowly than a normal echo should.

"Grown without love," she was saying, "seven Riddles will rule the land. Fear made them, and unless checked, love and luck shall be the only hope for death."

As the figure finished speaking the light within the orb dimmed and went out, leaving behind a dark mist swirling peacefully in a dusty glass ball. On the shelf below it in pristine writing was a small piece of parchment that read;

M.E.S. to A.P.W.B.D

Hundreds of miles from the Ministry and the now dark and silent prophecy, the moon was shining bright over a field. The tips of the grasses shown blue underneath the lunar light, the moon being nearly full.

In the distance the edge of a cliff could be seen, dropping off below, and also rising up to the side. The roar of the sea could be heard beneath the cliff, amplified by the cove into which it would crash upon the rocks.

The water seemed to be several feet below the level of the cliff, but nevertheless silver spray could be seen peaking above the edge. It gave the air a warm salty smell that carried on for miles away from this point.

Near the edge of the cliff where the tall grasses gave way into short but hearty foliage, a lone figure loomed above the landscape. His violet robes whipped about his boots in the wind, and the light of the moon made the silver streaks in his auburn hair stand out starkly in the night. His half-moon spectacles reflected the star-strewn sky.

His normally shining blue eyes were dull and set. The lines on his face were deep and pronounced, tracing down to the lips that were thin and determined. His arm was stretched in front of him, wand pointing down at the ground.

Directly below it's aim there was another figure. A tall, pale young boy, not much older than eighteen. His dark hair was short and had the look of normally well kept hair that was windblown.

Beads of sweat could be seen on his forehead, and running down his cheek. His mouth was partly open, and eyes staring blankly at the star-strewn sky. The knees were bent beneath the boys long black robes, and his wand rested in his hand, fingers still curled around it.

Albus Dumbledore looked down on the boy without mercy, finally lowering his arm and slipping his wand back into his robes. He walked off to pick up his heavy traveling cloak and returned to the body as he threw it around his shoulders.

"Of all the things I could have taught you," he said, looking straight into the blank eyes, "I never knew you would lack the most vital."

The old man knelt down beside the body and whispered, "I failed you, Tom. But let this be my final lesson to you," tears slid silently down each side of his face as he spoke. "Everyone, and everything, Tom, has a time to die."

Dumbledore sighed and closed the boy's eyes before standing upright and vanishing with a swish of his cloak.