Dark Marks, Orders and Auror's chapter 1.

Fifteen years on....

By Chris.

Summary: 15 years after Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort has gained power again. The Ministry of Magic has split away from Dumbledore's 'Resistance', and someone in the Ministry has passed information to a powerful and feared—by dark and light wizards alike—order of Auror's (Harry and Ginny no less) in an attempt to end the threat of Voldemort once and for all ... or is it really a trap? Marked by both the Ministry and Voldemort, Harry and Ginny must clear their names, and take down Voldemort before their enemies catch up with them.

Chapter 1—Fifteen years on....

Little few things had changed in Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry over the past fifteen years. The castle still stood proud and bold next to the lush greens of varying shades, as the light summary grasses met the darker more sinister and shadowy greens of the forbidden forest; which was still as off limit to students as ever. Within those trees still lurked dangers far beyond any minor wizard could handle, from werewolves to great serpents. The only friendly face within such a place were the centaurs; the half horse, half human creatures, that read the stars, and the future with more accuracy then any wizard had yet managed.

Closer to the masses of trees then the castle, the gamekeepers hut stood, if not looking quite what it used to. The small wooden building, which contained but a single room that had been shabby even at it's best, was now looking nothing short of condemned. The deep brown-red, the colour the wood had once been, was now faded and weathered after standing empty and unseen to for so long. The few windows that remained unbroken were almost opaque with dust and cobwebs, built by the seemingly endless army of spiders the forbidden forest seemed to breed. Nonetheless, the empty hut that used to be called home to the Hogwarts gamekeeper, was one of the few things that had changed. The rest of the grounds remained impeccable, the grasses around the castle neatly cut, if not slightly downtrodden with the great traffic it saw on a daily basis now that the last of the rain had disappeared and summer approached.

The lake was still as deep as always, and the dark blue still sheltered the giant squid, as the reflected rays of sunlight glittered serenely in the still water. The large Whomping Willow still stood a few hundred metres from the paths that circled the castle, but close enough to the lake to ensure it's very much needed supply of water was always there, and people still avoided it like the great Muggle and Wizard plague.

Inside, one that attended twelve years previous would barely notice a difference if they were to return to the castle for a visit that day. It appeared as though Hogwarts had it's own place in the world free of time, as though the grounds had been frozen to preserve the castle forever in it's state. Corridors still wound in a maze like manor throughout the castle, seemingly turning around and back on themselves; though the slightest wrong turn and you could end up on the other side of the castle.

The same pictures hung on the walls as people passed (Unless of course they happened to be visiting a fellow picture), and the armour still stood in the same position; well, most of the time anyway. Occasionally a crash could be heard echoing through the castle, very often accompanied a few seconds later be an enraged shout of, 'Peeves.' Peeves, the school poltergeist, knocked things over, moved things around, and in general caused mischief and mayhem, namely for the caretaker, Filch. Thought it was true to say that neither the students, nor even teachers were safe from Peeves's destructive streak.

Many secrets still the castle kept from all but the most adventurous; the few in each generation that dared to break some of the rules every now and then (The greatest being those that broke them every chance they had) and explore. It was only these people, the courageous (A trait that Gryffindor's were famous for, so it wasn't a surprise that most of the recent finds were made by Gryffindor's. Though Slytherin's with there certain disregard for rules also stood a good chance.), that really even began to unearth what the castle held: Hidden rooms, and hidden wonders that not even the headmaster, nor even a ghost—with it's abilities to pass though walls—could find.

The start of each new year was marked by the sorting hat, which placed frightened looking first year students into their respective houses, below a great tapestry covered roof—that reflected the whether outside—in the wide expanse of the great hall.

This particular tradition had just started. Sat perched around the four long house tables, were the higher years in the school, the second through seventh years, who all sat eagerly awaiting the great feast—another tradition—to begin; as it would soon as the hat had finished sorting. At the entrance, a group of first years stood huddled together looking apprehensive and pale. It was quite a impressive room in which they stood, and the hundreds of, what to them must seem to be hawk-like-eye's, were levelled upon them; this of course did nothing to help lighten their anxiety. Behind them, Hagrid, stood head and shoulders—and bare in mind his head and shoulders were also very much bigger then everyone else as well—above everyone else. His beetle-black eye's and wild main of hair atop his giant figure gave him a look of wild danger. But, as most of the first years now knew, after their journey with him to the castle high atop the cliff, Hagrid was a gentle giant (Or rather half-giant).

'Cheer up all o' yeh. It ain't all that bad,' said Hagrid, having noticed one girl in particular looked white as a ghost—perhaps that very well might be because she'd seen an actual ghost. He brought his giant hand down, and patted her on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, but only sent her flying. Those from Muggle backgrounds tended to need an extra length of time to adjust to the world seen through a wizards eye. There was so many new, exciting and occasionally scary things inside the wizard world which they had been naive to growing up with Muggles: Dragons, ghosts and goblins to name but a few; many things though fantasy, yet feared, in the Muggle world

Giving the students one last encouraging smile, he made his way across the room to sit with the rest of the staff. Being the "Care of Magical Creatures" teacher, meant he had to sit at the smaller table at the back of the hall with the rest of the staff, a place which just so happened to be next to the head.

To his right, was the Divination teacher, Professor Tawlery, who had made a rare visit down from her classroom to see in the new group, and of course the sorting ceremony. Over the past fifteen years, she had only gained an extra few grey hairs, and had just one or two stray wrinkles upon her thing face; which due to her large thick glasses made her eye's bulge disproportionably from the rest of her features. She showed no outward sign of stress or worry whatsoever, despite the events that had transpired, particularly over the last few years. When someone—a fellow resistance fighter—asked her about this, had "confronted" her on the matter, she had simply said, 'I had already seen the events transpire!' Though, when asked if she had seen the events transpire beforehand, why did she not then warn the resistance, she had quickly changed the subject, and given a grim warning of impending doom to the person she'd been talking to.

Looking much older however, with pronounced dark patched under his eye's, was professor Snape. Snape was the 'Defence Against the Dark Art's' teacher, and formerly Potions master of the school. He had recently—a year previous—returned to teaching, after having been very active in the resistance; during which time, he'd done things that had given him a much older, more fragile appearance. This however, made no difference to his attitude, particularly towards students. He still tortured any student that was not from Slytherin on a daily basis, and many of the students soon learnt to fear the pale face, with his large pointed nose and mid-length, greasy, black hair of Severus Snape.

Two empty seats, heralded the usual positions of the Quidditch teacher, professor Hooch—who was off seeing the intake of new school broomsticks—and the Herbology teacher, and head of Hufflepuff, professor Sprout—who was off extracting a useful ingredient from a plant that only flowered before 10 in the morning.

Among the five ghosts in the hall, was another familiar face of old: The 'History of Magic' teacher, Professor Binns. Then again, his presence was just about the most assured thing in the entire school. He would no sooner leave—or in fact, sooner change his lesson plan; which had stayed the same for over fifty years—then Snape would senselessly award marks to Gryffindor.

Across the other side of the table, three new figures sat. A tall and thin woman (Though mot quite so tall and thin as Professor Trawlery) named Gwyndiwa, was the current potions. The other, was perhaps the shortest person in the room, shorter even then the first years, a midget named Dave. Dave taught Transfiguration (Though many said, 'not well,' on the grounds that 'if he could transfigure so well, why did he not transfigure longer legs!).

At the centre of the teachers table, on the largest chair, sat the headmaster—or rather, headmistress—Hermione Granger. Hermione was well regarded amongst areas of the Wizarding world, and though more famously know for publishing countless books on Defence Against the Dark Arts (One co-published with Severus Snape) she was also know for being the youngest Hogwarts head teacher to be appointed, ever. Hermione sat proud with the sorting hat in her hand and welcoming smile upon her face.

Hermione raised her hands to silence the impatient school then addressed the first years. 'I would like to welcome you all to Hogwarts,' she said, with a reassuring smile. The brunette threw the sorting hat to the table, before adding, with a hint of authority, 'And, if the rest of the school would kindly wait five extra minutes, we will now sort you into the respective houses. You will be put in one of these four houses, named after the four founding wizards, by the sorting hat: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin.

The first year's attention was drawn to an old, ragged looking hat that now sat perched before her; sat next to her (more then noticeable by almost every hungry person in the room) empty plate. It gave a little jerk and Hermione pocked it, first with her fingers, and then more assertively with her wand, muttering, 'Go on.'

The hat jerked again, and, earning a loud chorus chuckle from the school that echoed through the great hall like with a megaphone, announced, 'No! They'll laugh at me.'

'Don't make me hex you hat,' Hermione warned, standing up and pulling out her wand. 'I can, and will turn you into a shoe.'

'I demand pay,' it squeaked; the entire school, first years included, could now make out what seemed to be a large rip in the hat which was acting as mouth. 'You offer pay to the house elves, then I demand pay as well,' said the hat. 'And day's off too.'

'You get 364 day's off a year, hat,' said Hermione, incensed. 'How can you have more day's off then that?'

By now, all of the first years were starring wide eyed and opened mouthed, as the headmistress argued with a hat on such matters as her stand on house elves, and possible way's the hat could have more then three-hundred and sixty-four day's off each year. What they all failed to realise was all sign of nervousness—whether the Hermione made it so on purpose was still debated—they had just seconds before had completely vanished; replaced by confusion and amusement. Headmistress Granger continued her argument, that eventually, differing completely from the previous years shenanigans, culminated in the entire staff threatening to hex the hat, which was followed by an exiting light show; spells cast all over the room.

'Okay,' said the Sorting hat, finally conceding when Hermione threatened to replace it with a joke (Weasley Inc: the name of a multinational company after Weasley's Wizard Wheezing's bought out Zonko products) replica sorting hat (Pink colour version), which, because neither Fred or George Weasley were—not—at all biased, sorted people into the four house: Gryffindor, Slivering, a lot of Huff and Puff, and of course Chickenclaws. Spinning round, the hat cleared its throat (If it had one) and much to the first year's surprise—and the rest of the schools entertainment—began singing:

New students to bold Hogwarts,

Champions of all the schools.

Come one, come all, come place me on,

and let me choose where you belong.

Heart of a lion, brave beyond all others,

Shall in Gryffindor you find like brothers (and sisters).

Through hard of work, you are determined to do your best,

if so, then Hufflepuff you'll like above the rest.

Wise-ness; if this so be your gift in throng,

then Ravenclaw house is where you belong.

Greatness at any cost is your aim,

then Slytherin is where you'll reign.

So come, atop your head I belong,

I will sort you well; I've never been wrong.

For I am the sorting hat; I will choose your place,

after this song, without further hast.

(Authors note: The hat had a bad summer, it was bullied by other articles of clothing, and so decided to reflect it's summer month's in the quality of it's song! I apologise for this, and hope you will one day forgive me for such a terrible song: I am no poet as I'm sure you can see.)

A few arched eyebrows later, and a few steady, tentative steps forward, one by one, the first years were sorted, and soon after, a whole host extra faces sat at each of the four house tables, and the great fast was served.

~*~

The first year students settled quickly over the weeks that past, of course there was the few that forgot their timetables, unknowingly broke rules, or just missed home. But as a whole, they were fine. Fine, when considering the age they were growing up in. The mood could almost be described as uneventful, with most of the students—bar the first years, of course—to some degree used to life at Hogwarts.

One early morning, third year students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw made their way from the greenhouses, having had Herbology for first lesson that morning, an exited chatter filled the air.

'Did you see those things?' exclaimed one girl. 'How weird were they? Ours didn't even like sunlight!'

'They were defiantly weird,' piped in another. 'What's with the purple bumps? And ours attacked us!'

'Stop being so dramatic. It simply fell on your hand,' said a Ravenclaw boy, who was looking round for his friend; she'd fallen behind. 'Heidi, what you doing... Heidi?'

The girl had stopped completely still, her mouth hanging, with a wide-eyed expression. Her blue eyes glistened in the sunlight with tears that threatened to fall. 'Oh god,' she whimpered, her lips quivering wildly, and her hands trembling.

In the far distance, something hung that sent shivers through most adult wizards and witches, let alone younger ones. Something that would shatter the "uneventful" mood of the previous few weeks. The Dark Mark—the mark Lord Voldemort and his followers used whenever they had killed someone—hung tainting the otherwise beautiful day. The serpent green skull, as tall as the castle itself marked the sky above Hogsmead Village; even more noticeable when no cloud even dare enter the picture perfect sky.

End chapter 1—Fifteen years on....

Coming up in chapter 2: Ron Weasley, working for the Ministry, arrives at Hogwarts to fill Hermione in on a few details about the Dark Mark above Hogsmead. Though, he also has something else to tell Hermione, something to do with Harry and Ginny, something that will affect them all. Implied Ron/Hermione past.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.