A/N: My first piece of posted Harry Potter fanfiction or fanfiction regardless. I hope you like it!
.The Rebirth of the Order
Prologue: The Awaking of the Master
Year 1996
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
He gasped, the pain ran through his veins like lightning, the fire of the dagger plunged into his arm. The old man had managed to dodge the flying missile enough to avoid his heart, but it didn't matter. The silver blade had met its intended target, now the poison was flowing in his blood. His determination to live giving him never even an hour to live. He spun around, hoping to get a glimpse of his attacker.
His office was silent as the grave; the many shelves filled with trinkets, casting ominous shadows, even the Sword of Gryffindor seemed dull and cold. He called Fawkes to him, and the phoenix flew from his perch to his master's shoulder.
A silky voice spoke from the shadows, "Don't even try Headmaster, it won't work. My poison is very good at its job. My job."
He peered into the darkness, trying to identify the assassin.
"I'd say you have about a half hour to live. I just hope you don't spend it moping on deathbed. You've always had more fight than that."
There was no question who had sent this man, but to sink to such a level to plainly assassinate was an unexpected move even from the Dark Lord.
The poison began to burn him, the liquid fire. He moaned inwardly, yet kept control. Outwardly, he appeared normal, sitting at his desk, a set of floating candles keeping watch over him as he worked. The only thing that made someone suspect something was the wound on his arm.
The man stepped out of the dark, coming into the moonlight. It was then that the face clicked in the victim's memory.
It was ----------.
"What a proud fool. I'm eager to see what last twist you'll throw at my master…" He smirked in the moon's pale glow, giving him the appearance of a demon, washed of all color with the exception of his dark robes. "… But then again, maybe you'll finally reach your senses and give up."
"Your work here is done, ______. Your master wishes you to report back."
"Indeed he does." The thin man threw a cocky grin, touched his Dark Mark, and disappeared once again.
Not even an hour.
The headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore stared at the set of portraits, he would become one of them, watching the world, yet not being able to manipulate it, to touch it. He shuddered, slowly letting the tension slipped off him like water. He wouldn't panic. In one of the very few times in his life, Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed hopeless, a window to the life experiences of one so ancient. What could he do?
Not even an hour.
It was a gut feeling an instinct that had served the headmaster long and well that whispered of an oncoming attack. His sight clouded by a vision of destruction, his Hogwarts up in flames. The giant squid's tentacles lashing out, defending students who ran out in the snowy night with their brooms, hoping to escape alive. The scenes switched to the corridors, following young Virginia Weasly. The young Gryffindor dodged the flames, leading a group of students to what she hoped was safety. He heard her whisper, "Where is Harry?" She envisioned the Room being a doorway to safety leading them outside. A green door popped out at the end of the hall. They were getting out of this hell.
Not even an hour.
The prophecy, Harry, the old man breathed in deeply clinging to his thoughts, not minding his body's protest. He had to make sure Harry would survive, he had to be alive. He couldn't let Voldemort win, he didn't want to be trapped in a frame, and helpless as the world he loved fell under the Dark Lord. As long as Harry lived, Voldemort couldn't win, the world, even in its war, would have some freedom. There would be resistance of some type; the prophecy guaranteed it. He couldn't tell when the Death Eaters were going to attack, but it was soon within the next week.
Dumbledore ran to his shelves and grabbed a wooden box. Once seated at his desk once more he opened it, revealing a miniature golden hourglass on a chain. If any muggle were to see it a store they would've thought it was simply a girl's trinket.
Oh how wrong they'd be. It was so simple the Time-Turner, but it could give the Headmaster the time he needed. The poison would be slowed, not by much, but it would give him an extra hour or so. He took what he could get.
For being moments away from his death, the Headmaster was remarkable calm. He spun the Time Turner, several times.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Year 2174
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Jetac sped through the halls, the taunts echoed through his mind. Savagely he threw them to the back of his mind. Those didn't matter; it was over.
He wished.
It would only be a matter of time before his brother, his older, wonderful brother found him. Then the real fun would begin.
He expected the standard lecture, then the notice to the prefects to watch out for him, and after that was "lesson." His brother thought the best way to get the lightning speed reactions and power for the duels was through practice, grueling practice.
Even Lile agreed with him there, but he refused. But Nuro still refused. For crying out loud, he wasn't the same person his brother was not the little Gryffindor that Mommy and Daddy were so proud of. Courage and bravery really wasn't his idea of him, but it was everyone's idea of what he should be.
But he was just Jetac.
He wandered through passages, just hoping to escape his brother for at least awhile. He needed just the night to himself, without his brother ridiculing him.
He sighed and looked up from the stone floor. Stopping suddenly, he quickly scanned the walls. He expected to see The Jester, or maybe The Cloaked Stranger, or even Mage Lord Ijjah. The walls were bare of portraits and the standard ominous suits of armor stood. He didn't recognize the stain-glass window of the lovely witch petting the unicorn. Jetac backtracked a bit, but still didn't pass any stairwell or anything that he knew. Scratching his auburn head, he figured it was for the best. Jetac wouldn't have to deal with him if Nuro wouldn't be able to find him.
Still wandering the hallways wasn't exactly his idea of fun. There were all sorts random ghost floating around Hogwarts, some were fairly decent, but others not so much. Many of them anyone could easily mistake for real students, the former students that had been trapped in the Great Hogwarts Fire of 1996.
He looked around for Ginny, one of the many victims in the Great Fire. She was one of the few ghosts he knew well, and she'd be willing to help him out of this maze.
Someplace nice and quiet, someplace where he wouldn't be found unless it was an emergency. He banged his head against the stain-glass window, envisioning this perfect place. He adjusted his books and found behind him a deep green door. Jetac peered at it suspiciously and cautiously opened the door enough to get a look inside.
Aghast by the sight before him, Jetac didn't noticed at the door slammed behind him.
A/N: That's all for now folks… and yes this is only the prolouge so I'm hoping that the other chapters will be much longer. I'll be aiming for 4000 words. But I wanted to get something up on my sad lonely account so I wrote a prologue, which was needed anyway. I wouldn't expect anything real soon, but if I'm not back in a month ping me with e-mails or something and I'll either give you an excuse, post, or get off my lazy bum and start writing. Reviews are just as effective *wink, wink* Yes, that little blue button is calling!