Summary: There's love. There's hate. There's forcing to forgive and fighting side by side with your enemy. All in all, just another year at Hogwarts.
Disclaimer: I would never be able to write as beautifully as the great JK Rowling does...and I'm not a filmmaker either. So sadly, I don't own anything you recognize. Things you do not recognize, I do own (or you're just not a real fan cause you don't remember exactly what's written in the books :P)
Pineapplecube: This will definitely end up being a D/Hr fic. I'm sure you don't mind :P anyway could I be real blunt and ask you to mention me in your next chapter of Regrets? I'd love to have more readers/reviewers for this story!
Last Chapter:
"Albus, are you sure it's them?"
Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, nodded.
"But they are so young"
"They have got old souls Minerva. You know this. Their achievements are not just extraordinary; they are impossible for someone their age."
Minerva McGonagall sighed.
"I suppose you are right. Are we going to tell them?"
"We will Minerva, but not now. There is still enough time before it starts."
When Ron and Harry entered the classroom, she was in the middle of a very powerful premonition. One they couldn't make sense of.
"Reincarnation...souls...enemy...forgiveness...reincarnation...souls...enemy...enemy...forgiveness..."
Professor Trelawneys eyes rolled in her head, the white of her eyeball visible the second before she fainted.
Up in Dumbledore's office, the paintings started chattering.
The ghosts withdrew themselves from the hallways of the castles, having a private meeting.
And whoever listened very closely, could hear faint whisperings.
Voices, hollow, filled with fear, remembering ancient history.
It has started...
Chapter 2:
A few weeks before in the library.
"Tengil...what kind of frightening name is that?"Two boys were bent over a large book, filled with pictures. One of them had red hair and wore old secondhand clothes. The other had a scar on his forehead, shaped like a lightningbolt. His hair was coloured like a raven, tousled more and more when he slid his hand through it without noticing.
"He will never be as famous as Sauron...or Saruman...they had evil names. Names that conjured fear in whoever heard them. Like Voldemort"
A seventeen year old brownhaired girl looked up. She gave the ravenhaired boy a warning glance.
"Don't say that name"
"Voldemort...Voldemort...
Harry taunted.
"Fear of the name only increases..."
"Fear of the thing itself"
Ron and Hermione finished his sentence in unison. They sighed.
"We know all that...it's just...that's just what I was trying to prove. People fear his name, not just his actions. Nothing can happen when you say his name. Nothing."
"Maybe that's true...but still...I feel a shiver rolling down my spine whenever I hear that name. I wonder if that will ever happen to me when I hear the name Tengil."
Harry grinned.
"It does sound a bit goofy"
"Can we please do our homework now?"
Hermione interrupted. Ron and Harry glanced in eachothers direction before bending over their book again. They both had hoped that within time, Hermione would stop being such a bookworm. Unfortunately, up until now, that had proven to be wishful thinking.
Meanwhile, in a dark enchanted forest, hidden by powerful wizards to make it look like a desert, something stirred.
For centuries, this forest had been the restingplace of Tengil, the wizards primal evil. Old tales had been told about a war, so long ago that not even your grandmothers grandmother would have been alive to witness it. When Tengil had finally been defeated, no trouble had been spared to lock him away forever. To normal people, the desert was just a desert. Nobody would notice even the slightest change in scenery or temperature, though some wizards did detect a slight cold front hovering at the exact place.
For so long now, Tengil had rested there. Not really dead, but not alive either. The tales about him slowly died, and the fear of his name had been forgotten. He had been the first. The first He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But with him, it had been true. His name, whenever it was spoken, would give him power. If his name was spoken more than twice in five minutes, he would wake.
Foolish are mortal beings. Foolish the wizards who forgot to erase his name from the books. Foolish too was Albus Dumbledore, who had one book in his possession with the name of the great wizard engraved in it. He had wanted to destroy it, but he was afraid that the tales it told and the fear that came with it would be forgotten. Some things never should be forgotten, he reasoned. He didn't know that the book had a will of it's own. It still had a hope, that one day Hogwarts students would enter the forbidden section and choose him to study from. It hoped that they would pronounce the age-old name, not knowing what power it beheld.
In all those centuries that Hogwarts had been there, no student ever did.
Up until today.
Two white eyes opened. A silent forest surrounded two ears that were used for the first time in millennia. Hands gripped a twig, crushing it without having to use strength. A snapping sound was heard, loud to the ears of Tengil, the first lord of evil.
His ears were one of the strangest things known to man. When he had been a normal kid, as normal as any wizard could be, his hearing had been superb. Even when he was nowhere to be seen, he would know what someone had said. Once he proved to be able to hear at a five mile distance. It was a unique and fabulous, yet slightly frightening ability.
By the time he was seven he had the power to become invisible without having to wear a cloak, and by the time he had reached the age of eleven, and was allowed into Hogwarts, he could change into any person at earth. He was the only person Hogwarts ever made an exception for. He started in his third year.
Nobody ever expected him to become evil. A silent, shy Hufflepuff, who didn't have many friends, but never had any enemies either. Nobody really knew when it changed. All they knew was that when he reached the age of 21, things had taken a turn for the worse.
Luckily, two people were able to stop him in the end. After five years of war, a numerous bodycount, countries that had been soaked in blood –wizards as well as muggles – two people had been able to make it stop.
A mudblood boy. Sorted into Gryffindor.
A pureblood girl. Sorted into Slytherin.
Back in those days there hadn't been such a great estrangement between Slytherin and the other houses, and neither had there been hate for mudbloods.
They had been friends. The mudblood and the pureblood. Their love for Quidditch and books had turned them into best friends, which eventually lead to a passionate love. It was their love for eachother that helped them defeat Tengil in the end. It was the pureblood girl, Dractya, willing to take the "Avada Kedavra" for her mudblood hero, Heremon, that sent the final blow to the already weakened wizard.
Heremon was the one who decided that the story of Tengil should be buried with him. He was tired of fighting, struck down by the loss of his beloved Dractya, and he never wanted this to happen again. He thought he could save the world another war by burning the books and forbidding people to talk about the stories.
A few months after the war had ended, he joined his cherished Dractya in heaven.
Now that Tengil had awoken, two other destined lovers, who always had potential, were summoned. Dractya and Heremon were reincarnated in two people that nobody ever expected to like, let alone love, eachother. Two people who hated eachother with a fiery passion. Two people that never ever exchanged as much as a civil word.
And Tengil assumed the world was his.
Review please!
A/N: So who do you think the destined lovers are? Can't be too hard :P just look at the names!