I know I said that I wouldn't start on this until I had Equilibrium
finished, but this thing has been bumping around him my head not giving me
any peace for quite some time. I'm going to put this down on paper, err...
you know what I mean... and get it out of my head. Hopefully I will be able
to finish one of these soon and I can keep any other lame brained ideas out
of my head until I do.
I don't own anything that is going to be put into this story except the plot, and if I'm lucky only one character. Everything else is owned by either J.K. Rowling or the ladies of Clamp
Whatever Means Necessary By Flameraven
Chapter one.
Professor Dumbledore stared out his window from his office at Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry and allowed himself a slight sigh. The advents of last years Tri-wizard cup had left him slightly shaken.
Voldemort once again had a body, and although he had made a, hopefully, fatal error in the process he was still a powerful enemy. A powerful enemy made even stronger by the blatant refusal of the Ministry of Magic and one Mr. Fudge in particular to even admit to the possibility of his return.
Foolish indeed, but he, like so many others, clung to the childish belief that if they didn't admit to it, give it words, that it would not come to pass. But as he had told Fudge, he would do what ever he could to combat the dark lord.
He wondered idly if there was a cell in Azbakan waiting for him someday soon. He was adding and abiding a convicted murderer, one of two men to ever escape Azbakan in its history. He had sent his games keeper, a man by the name of Hagrid and the headmaster of one of the finest schools in the wizarding world to talk to the giants.
Both of these acts would be frowned upon once they were known. But they had to be done. Voldemort was coming for a young boy named Harry Potter, of that if nothing else Dumbledore was sure, coming for him to finish a job he had botched almost 15 years ago.
He smiled faintly as his thoughts turn to the young Mr. Potter. Harry seemed to have a knack at becoming everything that Voldemort hated... and longed to be. That was perhaps the biggest irony in this whole sad, sorry mess.
For the most part, the dark lords followers were all old families "pure bloods". People who had no love for muggles. The opposition were either "mudbloods" or "muggle lovers". Rather striate forward until you took a look at who was leading the way for both sides.
Voldemort who's real name is Tom Riddle, is in fact one of the mudbloods that he and his followers hate so much. On the flip-side both Harry and Dumbledore himself were pure bloods.
As such he was what the dark lord wished to be, but never would become. Harry's best friends also would leave a lot to be desired had Dumbledore been from Voldemort's ilk that was. One was a muggle born witch and the other the youngest son of one of the most well known muggle lovers in Britain.
His smile become more real and bord as he thought of the youngest Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger. A rather formidable team, made even worse when Potter was with them. He doubted any of them knew just how much rested on there shoulders.
But that itself was a problem. All three of them had a death sentience, and it was only by luck that one of them hadn't been killed off yet. And now their was a forth variable. The youngest of the Weasleys.
Ginny Weasley, one of Miss. Granger's few female friends, Ron's only younger sibling of whom he was almost as protective over as he was of Miss Granger. And also now, a friend of sorts to Mr. Potter.
She also was the spitting image of Harry's mother in all things but the color of her eyes. For those who knew both Lily and James potter seeing Harry and Ginny standing together was quite a shock.
And all of them could and maybe even would die this coming year. He would do all he could to keep that from happening. And so he stood there looking out his window, weighing all his options. After a few more moments he reasoned himself into agreeing with his gut, a rather stupid practice as you can reason anything but one he used non the less, and began to write.
A little over a hour and three owls later and he was done. Harry would be at the burrow, the poor house would be overflowing with Weaslys but it was the safest he could do for Harry. Well the safest he could do away from the abuse his "family" was giving him. Counting Harry and Hermione, who was already there, there would be five or more wizards there at all times.
Black, the convicted murderer, and Lupen a former professor at Hogwarts were notified of Harry's location and told to see him once they had finished getting Figg and the rest of the "old crowd".
And finally the last owl was winging its way south-east to Hong Kong. Flying to deliver a message to the seat of power of a certain clan there. It was that last letter that had the highest likelihood of getting him a one-way ticket to Azbakan. For it breached a nearly three thousand year old treaty.
As Dumbledore watched that last owl fly off into the night, he couldn't help but wonder what would make him happier. If it was answered with a yes.... Or a no.
I don't own anything that is going to be put into this story except the plot, and if I'm lucky only one character. Everything else is owned by either J.K. Rowling or the ladies of Clamp
Whatever Means Necessary By Flameraven
Chapter one.
Professor Dumbledore stared out his window from his office at Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry and allowed himself a slight sigh. The advents of last years Tri-wizard cup had left him slightly shaken.
Voldemort once again had a body, and although he had made a, hopefully, fatal error in the process he was still a powerful enemy. A powerful enemy made even stronger by the blatant refusal of the Ministry of Magic and one Mr. Fudge in particular to even admit to the possibility of his return.
Foolish indeed, but he, like so many others, clung to the childish belief that if they didn't admit to it, give it words, that it would not come to pass. But as he had told Fudge, he would do what ever he could to combat the dark lord.
He wondered idly if there was a cell in Azbakan waiting for him someday soon. He was adding and abiding a convicted murderer, one of two men to ever escape Azbakan in its history. He had sent his games keeper, a man by the name of Hagrid and the headmaster of one of the finest schools in the wizarding world to talk to the giants.
Both of these acts would be frowned upon once they were known. But they had to be done. Voldemort was coming for a young boy named Harry Potter, of that if nothing else Dumbledore was sure, coming for him to finish a job he had botched almost 15 years ago.
He smiled faintly as his thoughts turn to the young Mr. Potter. Harry seemed to have a knack at becoming everything that Voldemort hated... and longed to be. That was perhaps the biggest irony in this whole sad, sorry mess.
For the most part, the dark lords followers were all old families "pure bloods". People who had no love for muggles. The opposition were either "mudbloods" or "muggle lovers". Rather striate forward until you took a look at who was leading the way for both sides.
Voldemort who's real name is Tom Riddle, is in fact one of the mudbloods that he and his followers hate so much. On the flip-side both Harry and Dumbledore himself were pure bloods.
As such he was what the dark lord wished to be, but never would become. Harry's best friends also would leave a lot to be desired had Dumbledore been from Voldemort's ilk that was. One was a muggle born witch and the other the youngest son of one of the most well known muggle lovers in Britain.
His smile become more real and bord as he thought of the youngest Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger. A rather formidable team, made even worse when Potter was with them. He doubted any of them knew just how much rested on there shoulders.
But that itself was a problem. All three of them had a death sentience, and it was only by luck that one of them hadn't been killed off yet. And now their was a forth variable. The youngest of the Weasleys.
Ginny Weasley, one of Miss. Granger's few female friends, Ron's only younger sibling of whom he was almost as protective over as he was of Miss Granger. And also now, a friend of sorts to Mr. Potter.
She also was the spitting image of Harry's mother in all things but the color of her eyes. For those who knew both Lily and James potter seeing Harry and Ginny standing together was quite a shock.
And all of them could and maybe even would die this coming year. He would do all he could to keep that from happening. And so he stood there looking out his window, weighing all his options. After a few more moments he reasoned himself into agreeing with his gut, a rather stupid practice as you can reason anything but one he used non the less, and began to write.
A little over a hour and three owls later and he was done. Harry would be at the burrow, the poor house would be overflowing with Weaslys but it was the safest he could do for Harry. Well the safest he could do away from the abuse his "family" was giving him. Counting Harry and Hermione, who was already there, there would be five or more wizards there at all times.
Black, the convicted murderer, and Lupen a former professor at Hogwarts were notified of Harry's location and told to see him once they had finished getting Figg and the rest of the "old crowd".
And finally the last owl was winging its way south-east to Hong Kong. Flying to deliver a message to the seat of power of a certain clan there. It was that last letter that had the highest likelihood of getting him a one-way ticket to Azbakan. For it breached a nearly three thousand year old treaty.
As Dumbledore watched that last owl fly off into the night, he couldn't help but wonder what would make him happier. If it was answered with a yes.... Or a no.