Disclaimer Oh really, do I have to say this? Oh, all right… None of the characters and places and things and creatures and…well everything actually…that you recognize belongs to me. Most of them are property of JK Rowling and the others…well I am not sure…that depends on what exactly you recognize…

Rating Right now I think it's PG-13, but maybe I'll get nasty and it'll go up.

Summary When hell breaks loose, someone gets a second chance to live, someone gets a second chance to love and someone finds a family he longs to have. It is time to correct mistakes of the past, to give and earn forgiveness.

A/N Please, pleeeeease be gentle with me people. I am trying to do something I've never done before – write a fan fiction.

TIME TO LOVE

1

Diagon Alley was crowded, just as it always was in the end of August. Dozens of wizards and witches were passing up and down the street, moving from one shop to the other in search of different magical necessities. The alley was filled with various sounds. You could hear people talking – sellers and buyers bargaining with each other, merchants advertising and lavishing their goods, old friends chatting about life, parents discussing with children the list of things they had to obtain for the new school year, kids praising the new model of broom. You could hear laughter and whimpers, cries of delight and indignation. You could make out the owls hooting, ruffling their feathers and clapping their wings. Things and people were rustling and tapping, squeaking and buzzing, chinking and clinking.

At first sight, the place, it's dwellers and visitors looked and sounded no different from what they were like in the course of the last fifteen years. But if you looked closer you would see that people were tense. The smiles on their faces could not completely hide the sadness, distrust and alarm from the one who would look into the depth of their eyes. Their energetic voices could not disguise worry from the one who would listen carefully. Even the air seemed to be radiating tension and nervousness. People were scared and they had a damn good reason to be.

The rumors about Voldemort's return were finally confirmed by the Ministry of magic and fear clenched the hearts of those who considered themselves a part of the magical community. Of course there were wizards and witches in whose hearts fear co-existed with pleasurable anticipation. They called themselves 'deatheaters'. Like every leader, Voldemort was no-one without his followers. He needed his toady deatheaters to constantly prove his power and do all the dirty work for him. And his 'slaves' were more than happy to serve him, to demonstrate their devotion to him, deriving pleasure from the horrible crimes they committed. Ironically it was them who were feared the most, not the Dark Lord himself.

The wizardry world was immersed into the atmosphere of mutual suspicion and distrust. One could never tell whether the person standing next to him was a friend or an enemy. Shady-looking people received askance looks.