Disclaimer: I own nothing except Niara and the Limfiti crew. All the rest, Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter Series are property of J.K. Rowling.

Summary: Due to a favor owed, a distant stranger makes their way to our favorite school, leading to mayhem for all. How will all involved survive the experience? (AD/MM in the end)

A/N – I've read so much fanfiction, and I think that it's about time to contribute some of my own. Special thanks to my beta reader, Sobralia. Wish me luck...

Remains of a Forgotten Age

Prologue


Prologue

Snow capped mountain ranges – a glorious testament of nature's supreme majesty. One could argue that a person could spend their entire life in such splendor, and it would be time well spent.

Then why, you might ask, are words of extreme profanity echoing off the grand slopes of this land, spoken with such force of will?

The answer lies in the form of a brown haired individual currently sprawled face first in the underbrush, a person who has recently fallen head over heals and is now getting well acquainted with the ground.

Very well acquainted.

And because he has been honored with this special bonding time with nature, he is expressing his enjoyment in a very verbal manner. A simple explanation really.

However, a more interesting topic of study lies not with our collapsed, cursing friend, but with the reason for his tumble to earth. For, protruding from the earth, slightly buried by the rotting undergrowth, is the large cracked wooden door that tripped him.

Now one might ask themselves why on earth there would be a door of any sort in the middle of a desolate forest. If you are, you are in good company, for our annoyed friend is wondering the exact same thing.

But no matter, for our story does not lie with him, but with that door he is lying on, and the people who once walked through it, not on top of it.

On closer inspection, one might notice burns crisscrossing across its broken edges. With a bit of imagination, you can glimpse the door as it must once have looked long ago, engravings carved into its massive surface by the hand of a master carpenter. You can almost breathe in the fragrance of sawdust and wood smoke that permeated the workshop in which it was built; see the blows to the chisel as the hammer struck down, feeding energy into the door with a steady blow. With a door like this, once can almost feel the magic of life that danced around and through it as time went by.

Unfortunately, a broken wooden door is all that remains now; a ghost from a forgotten age.


A/N – Just the beginning – the Potter world that we all know and love is coming up quickly in the next few chapters – just setting the mood. Any comments on how I could improve on my writing would be greatly appreciated! -Eilisan