Summary: Destruction spares no one; darkness and light alike are wiped away. Yet hope remains in the most unlikeliest of forms. Can love truly conquer all? Will family bonds be enough to break free of the mold history created? As with all things, it begins and ends with Harry Potter...

Warnings: Um...mild use of slash...?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Do you really believe anyone who did would waste time writing fanfiction? O.o I highly doubt it. As for lawsuits...there are over 150,000 HP fanfics on this site...why pick on me! T-T cries

Why do I have the feeling that it might not be so smart to start yet another fanfic when I already have five in the works. . . Sheesh! Will I ever learn? Probably not. n.n So anyway, about this fic:

It's a story about trying to find the truth between the lines. I began it with the idea of, of course, what happens after the series ends? Well, here it is.

Shaking The Earth

Prologue: Dream To Reality

St. Stephen's Street, London England, June 5th 2004.

A cry rang out in the middle of the dark night. Glass lay shattered along the road, twinkling faintly where the moonlight hit it. Voices long since disappeared still echoed hollowly throughout the night.

'Where is he? He said he'd be here-'

'Draco!'

The door burst open, a black robe swirling around their feet.

'Leave now! It's too late!'

The air swept through, pushing the ebony hair off of Harry's scar.

'I can't! I can't find-'

The window exploded, shards of glass streaking towards the front yard.

'HARRY!'

The crying rang on. As a cloud ran across the moon for a split second, the form of a tall man gingerly picking his way through the destruction was visible.

Clearly in shock, he stepped over what was once a doorway and entered. He took in the form of a dark haired man laying sprawled out on the living room floor, wand only a few feet away and broken in two. He collapsed there, shaking in grief. He reached out to touch the still form but recoiled suddenly as if burned.

He sat there, for how long he did not know; time had no meaning. He was barely able to cry, his throat hurt too much and the idea was repelling to his every thought. His whole body shaking he took a deep breath and tried to force his now tired limbs to move. Reluctantly obeying, they took him towards the bedroom.

The whole scene was eerily familiar to him and he silently wept with the knowledge that history had once again managed to repeat itself. The man's blonde hair lay swept over the bed, cheek against the edge of the mattress where the stain was already turning brown. He turned from the sight, urging his stomach to be still.

Following his ears, he found them. Reaching down he picked them both up and turned to leave. He'd at least be there for them, even if no once else could be.

AN: Now I realise this is short so you'll just have to bear with me. I'll update this weekly so it'll give me (hopefully) enough time to post without worrying about it taking too long. To keep it a little more interesting, I'm running a house points quiz with each chapter; it's a little idea I picked up somewhere. In the review, if you want to take a stab at the questions, give what house you're from and then your answers. House points will be posted at the beginning of the next chapter. Ja ne! And have FUN! n.n

1.) Who do you think the first person killed in the living room is? 5 points

2.) Who is the second person killed in the bedroom? 5 points

3.) Can you name the person who picks throught the wreckage? 10 points

4.) Who killed the two people? 5 points Why? 10 points.

Good luck!