Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. Copyright or trademark infringement is not intended.
Summary: The Dagger of Time was thought to be just a legend from an old empire, long forgotten. But is Harry somehow connected to it, and to the prince of a long forgotten empire that once ruled from Greece to India? Follow Harry as he discovers his heritage, fights evil demons, and tries to save the world from Voldemort (again). The Sands of Time have once again been unleashed...
Pairings: Harry/Hermione (so far)
Most people think Time is like a river, that flows swift and sure in one direction. They are wrong. Sit down and I will tell you a tale like none that you have ever heard. Know, first, that I am the son of Shahraman, a mighty King of Persia. On our way to Azad, we passed through India... Where the promise of Honor and Glory tempted us to our doom.
Time. Time and space are one in the same. They are both forever intertwined with each other. One can not change time without in effect changing a certain point in space, and vice versa. What would happen if an individual were to disrupt the flowing of time and space? What would happen to this person if they decided to reshape the future? What would happen if they changed their fate?
The desert air was still and cold. The stars and a crescent moon wheeled overhead, giving an eerie glow to sand dunes which spread across the landscape. That's all there was to see, for miles and miles; a cold, desolate ocean of dunes of sand. There was nothing, expcet perhaps the occasional oasis with a few palm trees and watering hole. The stillness of the air was broken by the thundering of horses, racing across the Arabian desert. They were stallions of the highest breed, and they were beyond fast. They tore across the sand like a falcon diving through the air. Their riders were hooded and scarfed, protections against an unforgiving climate. Most of the riders wore black turbans and scarves covering their faces, their eyes outlined in black to shade against the sun. Except for one; he wore a royal blue scarf, and a white turban with gold trim. His hands and wrists, which steered the reigns of the horse expertly, were covered with leather studded bands to keep dust and sand from entering his clothes. One could tell from observation that this individual was of higher ranking than the others, possibly even royalty. They made haste in their journey, as if they did not have enough time to get where they needed to be. Time, it seemed, was against them.
"Prince! Are you sure this is where the Dagger of Time is indeed hidden?" asked one of the men clothed in black. The Prince, the one in blue and white, vehemently nodded his head in affirmation.
"Yes, I am certain," he said, his voice betraying his youth. "I saw it. My mother showed me in my dream." At this, some of the men looked at each other. Visions were a bad omen. A very bad omen. "We must recover the dagger before it falls into the hands of evil."
"Prince, you know your father struggled with the burden of the dagger for a great time, when he too was a prince," began one of the men. The Prince turned his head to the man beside him.
"I know that, Afshar. I know what my father went through with the dagger, the Dahaka, and his dark side," the Prince replied, his tone darkening. "That is why we must hurry and retrieve the dagger before it is taken by the enemy." Afshar blinked.
"You mean the visier?" he asked. The Prince nodded. "But he is dead, Prince. Your father killed him."
"I know. It's hard to explain, but he has returned..." here, the Prince paused in thought. "Well, he will return, and he has come back from the time he was brought back to life." Afshar just stared at him. "It's confusing, I know. The visier will be resurrected in the future and he will come back now to retrieve the dagger. Does that make anymore sense?"
"A little, Prince," Afshar answered. "Who has... er, will resurrect him?"
"I'm not sure," the Prince confessed. "I think a very distant descendant of his will look to him for power." His eyes clouded over. "A dark sorcerer, hell-bent on ruling the earth. We must reach the dagger!" At this, the Prince spurred his horse on, picking up speed. His band of body guards followed, urging their steeds as well.
Soon, the Prince and his bodyguards reached their destination; a small mausoleum nestled between the foliage and trees of an oasis. Its stone was ancient and showed signs of wear from the elements. The image of jackals and winged beasts covered the mausoleum, warning those who entered. The Prince lead the way into the tomb, lighting a torch that had been perched on the outside of the small structure.
Upon entering, the men could tell that no one had entered this tomb for ages; the walls were lined with dust and cobwebs. The group made their way towards the center of the mausoleum where the stone coffin holding whoever was inside was. The Prince gave the torch to Afshar as he bent down to examine the inscription on the sarcophagus. He wiped away the dust, trying to make out the words on the gray stone.
"What does it say, Prince?" Afshar asked eagerly. The Prince didn't say anything for a moment as he kept rereading the inscription.
"It's a riddle," he finally answered.
"A riddle?" asked Afshar.
"Yes, a riddle."
"I am that which man can not grasp,
I am that which everything must pass.
I am not here or there but everywhere,
I am that that has no past.
I have not a beginning nor an end,
I am most certainly not your friend.
I am that which carries true,
I am that which is around of you."
Everyone looked blankly at the Prince. Afshar was the first to speak. "Well, what is it?" The Prince looked deep in thought for several moments, then, his eyes brightened in understanding.
"Time!" he exclaimed. "The answer to the riddle is time! It's so simple, I'm almost afraid I'm wrong." The Prince hadn't noticed, but as soon as he uttered the word 'time', the sarcophagus had shook ever so slightly. Then, it trembled and the covering of the coffin began to slide off. The Prince stood and watched as a bright golden glow emitted from within, and the top completely came off and fell to the floor with a loud clatter. The glow intensified for a moment before subsiding and vanishing. The Prince stepped towards the coffin and looked inside.
There was not a body as it should have held, but a small wooden chest with a silver latch. The Prince hefted the box out and examined it for a moment. He then lifted the latch and opened the lid. He gasped when he saw the contents within.
"What is it, sire?" asked Afshar.
"It's the dagger," he answered quietly. Afshar's eyes widened.
'Are you sure?" he questioned. The Prince reached inside the box and withdrew the Dagger of Time. It's curved blade was sleek and sharp, with two blue-tinted spikes on the bottom and top. The hilt followed the curve and contained a small glass-like container, which was partially filled with sand.
"Yes," the Prince said. "This is the dagger. Now, we must get it--" The Prince was cut off by a small blast from outside the mausoleum, the door blowing inwards. His bodyguards surrounded the Prince, unsheathing their deadly curved swords.
A lone figure draped in black entered the small tomb, his face covered by a hood. He looked around the room and his gaze stopped on the Prince, the dagger in his hand. "Ah, I see you've gone to the trouble of recovering the dagger for me. I'll take it now," the mysterious man said, his voice like that of a snake. The Prince also withdrew his sword and crouched into a fighting stance, dagger and sword at the ready.
"And why would you want this dagger, sorcerer?" the Prince said with venom. The man laughed.
"Do not be foolish, boy," the man taunted. "You can not possibly defeat me."
"Perhaps," replied the Prince," but I have the power of Time on my side. You will not claim this dagger."
"You will give me the dagger!" the man yelled in anger. The Prince grinned and shook his head.
"Not a chance." And with that, the Prince brought the dagger down and stabbed himself in the chest, at the same time activating a small switch on the dagger. The sorcerer lunged forward, reaching for him, but as he did, time seemed to slow down to a trickle, and the Prince felt his life slipping away. Then, time snapped back into motion like a rubber band. The dagger began to glow white, as did the Prince, and they both vanished, along with the mysterious sorcerer.
The bodyguards would search high and low for the Prince, but he had slipped away from this world and out of this time. The strange sorcerer had also vanished without a trace. This event would soon turn to legend, and then the legend would disappear forever, only living among the writings of ancient texts. Few would know of the night that a Prince of Persia with the Dagger of Time vanished out of existence.
Hundreds of years later and thousands of miles away, a teenage boy with black hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead would awake in the middle of the night, a stabbing pain in his chest.
This is said by the Prince in in the beginning of Prince of Persia The Sands of Time.
Author's Notes: Thank you for reading the Prologue of Harry Potter and the Sands of Time. I'm very excited about writing this fanfic, more so than most of the others I've attempted at writing. I have an idea as to where this fic will be going and I plan on updating at least once or twice a week if I can manage. I'll be putting up chapters as long as I can think of something to write. I also hope to please both Harry Potter fans and Prince of Persia fans. I plan on having battles between Harry and the gang against the sand demons and other monsters found in Prince of Persia The Sands of Time. Other than the Prince and the Visier, I don't think they'll be any other characters from Sands of Time, but who knows? Anything is possible at this point. If you have read this fic, please review, I love reviews and they'll get me motivated to write more. Any suggestions as to where this can go and what it can contain will be taken very seriously. So please, any suggestions, put them in your review or email me (email in my profile). Thank you so much for reading.
Orpheus
P.S. -- I currently don't have a beta-reader, so if you find any misspellings or grammatical errors, plese bear with me. Thanks.