Chapter 1; or, Getting the Ball Rolling
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & his universe are owned & created by the goddess of fiction JK Rowling. I'm not using the first and borrowing a warped version of the second, but she still created it all.
Author's Note: This takes place in what I affectionately refer to as the "Our Hogwarts" Universe. Almost all the characters are actually personas on the "Our Hogwarts" online RPG board. I cannot thank these guys enough, for both letting me use their alter-egos without supervision and for not having the good sense to send me packing ages ago. So, anyway. Don't expect to have Harry or any of the usual characters show up--at most, they're getting a cameo. And now, on with the show!!
Firstly, it was NOT a dark and stormy night. Although an epic quest would seem to require that the heroes be informed of their mission on a dark and foreboding night, with lightning flashes occasionally illuminating their faces quite dramatically, life just doesn't work out that way sometimes.
It was, in fact, a very pleasant morning. The sun was shining brightly, birds were chirping happily, the temperature was neither too hot nor too cold....it was hard to imagine a more beautiful day. In Diagon Alley, the center of the British wizarding world, shops were just beginning to open for business. Wizards and witches were heading to their places of business, getting ready for another day on the job. And in the middle of it all, at one of the world's very very few magical Starbucks, a young woman sat in a chair by the window, sipping some highly caffeinated drink and watching the crowd pass by. Suddenly, as one certain figure passed by, her eyes locked on their figure. Without a second word, she placed her cup in the duly designated receptacle, and headed out the door.
**********
Mark Powell walked down the street towards the Ministry of Magic, Magical Artifacts Division's headquarters. Occasionally, he would get odd looks from the passerby--after all, an obviously young man with white hair and silver-blue eyes tended to attract some notice, no matter where he went. However, at this point, all that he really wanted to do was to get to work. Unfortunately for him, the large crowds made it rather hard to get where he was going with any sort of speed. Mark looked around for a moment, obviously contemplating something. Ducking out of the crowd into a relatively deserted alley, he muttered a quick chant, snapping his fingers. Immediately, he rose several feet into the air, before disappearing from sight. As he zipped off unnoticed above the crowds, a young woman peered into the alley, rather confused. Then, she muttered something uncomplimentary, and walked off quickly.
Mark landed in front of the front doors of the Ministry a few moments later. He was about to enter into the building as he did every morning, but suddenly noticed that something was very different today. For one thing, there was the line of bright yellow light surrounding the front of the building as a warning. Also, the entire main entranceway was....well, it was no longer there.
"What the...." Mark's jaw dropped momentarily. Then, his eye fell upon a familiar figure standing by the warning light, and quickly hurried over. "Nick, what the bloody hell is going on here?!"
The white-haired Auror turned around grimly at the sound of his old friend's voice. "No clue, Mark. All I know is I got called out of bed at 3:30 AM this morning with a report of one helluva explosion in Diagon Alley. I get down here, and find a couple dozen Aurors staring at the mess. We've really just started to investigate, though."
"Great...." Mark sighed. "You know what this feels like, don't you." It was less of a question than a flat-out statement.
"Yeah." Both young men looked at each other, then at the ground beneath their feet. Even now, one could see the difference in pavement, a clear border between the old and the new. The new pavement came from the time six years ago that the Death Eaters had attacked the Ministry. The entire building had been destroyed, along with a large amount of Diagon Alley surrounding it. The new building had just opened less than nine months earlier, and now....
"Do you think it could be--them?" Mark wasn't even going to mention the Death Eaters at this point--anyone who was listening might begin to be panicked. Heck, Mark himself was rather worried at this point.
"I don't know." Nick let out a large sigh. "I mean, they are still out there--we didn't get all of them in the war. And there aren't many people who have the capabilities to do this sort of thing. But we're not honestly sure yet."
"Right." Mark nodded slowly. "Were there any deaths?"
"Thank L-sama, no." Nick said. "It was 3 AM or so, meaning almost no one was in the building, except for security. And none of them were in the area of the blast."
"That's a plus." Mark replied. "I guess I'm gonna make the best of this and call in sick. Besides, no one's going to be getting much work done here today."
"Except for me, who gets to stand around here and look for clues. Huzzah." Nick grumbled quietly.
"Yes, well, that's why they pay you the big money, neh?" Mark chuckled as he headed down the street into the more commercial section of Diagon Alley.
"Yeah, big money. Shyeah, right, Mark." Nick muttered before turning back to the remains of the building's entranceway.
**********
Suiting actions to words, Mark entered into Diagon Alley. As he was window-shopping, glancing in various shops and simply enjoying the day, his peaceful reverie was suddenly and abruptly interrupted as he bumped into someone else.
"Ooof!!" Mark stumbled, dropping to one knee momentarily. He stood quickly, looking at his fellow marketplace visitor. It was a young woman, about his age. She had long auburn hair in a ponytail, and was hastily picking up a worn leather journal and quill. But the most noticeable thing about her was her bright green eyes--they seemed to almost glitter with some inner light.
"I'm, uh, sorry--" Mark's apology was abruptly cut off as the woman looked hard at him. His uncertainty kept increasing for a moment, until she spoke.
"Are you Mark Powell?" Mark raised an eyebrow at this.
"Unless I owe you money, yes."
"Good." The young woman straightened herself up. "Beware!!"
"....I beg your pardon?" Mark gave her a mildly confused stare.
"Beware, Mark Powell! For if you do not listen--" she paused momentarily, flipping through her journal until she arrived at one particular page, "--listen to the....the....Hey, where're you going?!!"
Mark looked back at her, having put some distance between them while she was prophesying. "Look, lady. I've had plenty of ominous prophecies recited at me, most of which just ended up getting me & my friends in life-and-death troubles. So, I hope you understand exactly why I have no desire to listen to ANOTHER one, all right? Goodbye." With that, he kept walking away. Suddenly, though, he stopped dead in the middle of the street as a half-forgotten voice registered in his mind, somehow skipping the usual middle step of the ears.
'Have You So Soon Forgotten Your Vows, My Priest?' Mark looked around wildly. He had only really heard the voice once in his life--nearly a decade earlier, when he had sworn various oaths and been declared a priest of the Lord of Nightmares. Admittedly, a decade was a long time to remember one voice, but when your chosen deity speaks to you, it tends to stick in your mind.
*L-sama?* Mark thought/prayed hastily, attempting to see if he had been hearing things, or if some higher power really was at work again. *L-sama, are you there?*
'I Am Here, Priest. But You Should Not Ignore Prophecies, Especially When They Concern You.'
*Prophecy? What--?*
'Listen Well, My Priest. I Will Talk With You Again In One Day's Time. There Is A Task That You Have Been Chosen To Complete, That Only You Can Fulfill. I Will Tell You More At The Appointed Time. Now, Go.'
*L-sama?* However, this time, there was no response. Mark opened his eyes. "Shit...." he muttered. Then, he spun around. The young woman was gone.
"Shit." He sighed heavily, then started walking. "It frickin' figures. Prophecies, chosen ones, tasks to complete for a goddess....Wonderful. Ah, well. At least I'm ahead of the game. I mean, at Hogwarts, I would've been running around frantically, not knowing what the next step is and without any of the facts. Now, I'm WALKING frantically, not knowing what the next step is and without any of the facts." With that little observation, Mark kept walking, plans and hopes flitting through his head as he prepared as best he could.
