When I updated chapter 2 I did something wrong and didn't load all of it. Sorry for la confusion. Which is why I have not waited for your reaction on the death of Mrs. Weasley.

Bobboky, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't even know what my brilliant idea was anymore. And even so, it's probably expired. But it makes me happy you read author notes.

RATING: PG it could go up later, but for now, there's nothing too terrible future chapters.

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and friends don't belong to me, because, quite frankly, if they did, I wouldn't be posting this right now. However, Alexandrea is mine and so is Echidna and both Trinities and almost everything else that you don't recognize.

SUMMARY: After a mysterious light takes Harry Potter away from Privet Drive and he doesn't seem to be returning, he is presumed dead. Then exactly a year after his disappearance the Dragon Prince appears.

EVEN IF YOU'VE ALREADY READ THIS READ IT AGAIN. I describe the "new Harry" better and there's obscenely important changes. Speaking of the description though, there's an almost prevalent reason it sounds really cheesy, it has very little to do with the plot, but still…

On with the fic


A New Term

The sky was gray and damp in Diagon Alley as the Weasleys and Hermione (who was practically a Weasley anyway) journeyed down the cobblestone road in search of school supplies. Gone were the jubilant smiles and sparkling eyes that were characteristic of the clan, instead troubled stares and miserable expressions adorned their faces. Even the twins who could make light of the most depressing days were in no mood to joke. This family had lost one of their own, and they would loose more as the war waged on. One might go as far to say the Weasleys had finally lost the hope that had gotten through the last Dark War.

But they did not. Not all of them anyway.

"Ron, dear," Mrs. Weasley asked in forced warmness, always trying in vain to salvage the spirit of her family, "why don't you and Ginny go down to Quality Quidditch? You used to love that place."

"No thanks, mum," Both children in question sighed.

"Of course, dears, why don't we go into Flourish and Blotts then and get your books, hmm?" She said, loosing grip on her chipper voice.

As she shepherded her children into the aforementioned bookshop, she was so consumed in her thoughts that she did not notice the book that was on display, but if her horrified sob was anything to go by, Hermione certainly did.

There, stocked in the hundreds, were black and white books with a plain muggle photo of Harry Potter taken right after the confrontation with Voldemort in his fifth year. He looked haggard, ragged, and half crazy, with a vague haunted look in his eyes. The title read, in letters that gave the appearance it was typed on an old muggle typewriter, Boy Hero: the true inside story of the all too short life of Harry Potter; an unauthorized biography written by Rita Skeeter.

When Mrs. Weasley saw the books, her expression went from calm and loving to utterly furious in a split second.

"Go wait outside, loves, I'll pick your books up and speak with the store owner." She commanded gently and comfortingly as she sent them on their way.

As soon as the door to the bookstore closed and the Weasley troops were safely out on the street, the entire establishment of Flourish and Blotts collapsed with utterly no warning.

The next series of event happened so quickly that the remaining Weasleys (and Hermione) did not have time to react to the fallen bookstore. Death Eaters suddenly appeared out of the shadows and the small group started firing Defense spells as quickly as possible. One of the Death Eaters managed to grab Ginny and just as he was about to apparate away, a man tackled him to the group, and using his bare hands, killed Ginny's would-be kidnapper. The man was about 6 feet tall and wore a dark green cloak. On his face was a gold mask adorned with a Griffin, a Dragon and a Phoenix, forming a beautiful trinity encompassed by light. Moving lightening fast, this man captured what appeared remaining death eaters.

"And for those of you that have escaped," the man shouted, knowing he had let one man escape relatively unharmed, "Tell you master that the Dragon has returned!"

Deafening silence, this didn't seem to bother the man, as he stood and surveyed the fallen Diagon Alley.

"You five—help search for survivors!" He suddenly barked at them in slightly accented English as he dashed over to the nearest person still struggling to maintain life, a little boy about 4 years old.

With death and destruction surrounding them, the remaining Weasleys were only concerned about finding one woman.

Dancing through the rubble and bodies, as the raced to their destination, they reached the ruins of Flourish and Blotts.

"Search everywhere in the near vicinity of the store!" Hermione commanded when they got to the sight, "And be careful with were you step and what you dig under!"

Ginny was the first to get to the Defense section. There, strewn about a foot away from her was her mother's handbag, a huge thing, threadbare and hand knitted. Near it were three Hogwarts supply lists.

"Oh no," Ginny whispered with trepidation, a sick twisted feeling in her gut.

Dropping to her hands and knees, Ginny started crawling around in the surrounding area of where she found the bag, and a slight drizzle began.

Finally she saw something, a ring; one that had been her great-grandmother's on her father's side. One she had spent years admiring and had been promised to her, being the only girl in the family.

It was on the finger of a worn hand. A hand that had washed too many dishes made too many lunches and dried so many tears. A hand that had rung the other in worry had been used to emphasize a point and waved a wand, which was broken in hundreds of little pieces next to it. This hand was coming from a pile of rubble.

"No…Mum? Mum, can you hear me?" Ginny screamed.

When no response was shown, Ginny crawled up to the rubble frantically and started throwing rocks and debris were ever it landed, cutting her face, hands and arms. Finally she saw her mother's red hair, slightly gray, but not much. No, the gray was not what concerned Ginny Weasley today. It was that she could not see the gray in some parts, because of the blood. "no, no, no, no," Ginny started chanting under her breath as she continued to paw the wreckage away. Her mother's face slowly was revealed, tears falling from her daughter's and the now thundering rain washing the still wet blood off of the woman's face, revealing deep gashes and brushes and a petrified and pained expression.

"No!" she screamed into the rain. A wrenching sob that could be heard in the heavens.

Alarmed by the scream, Ron looked up from about two yards away to see his sister. Horrified by what he was probably seeing, Ron jumped up and ran over to her.

Ron was not the only one who heard Ginny's shout; the Dragon Prince looked up from where he had just checked a man's pulse only to find him dead. In only a second he was next to the girl and her mother. He met Ginny's eyes as if asking permission, the girl only averted her gaze. Taking this as a yes, the mysterious man crouched down next to Mrs. Weasley. He placed one hand over her heart and the other over her forehead and starting whispering in a language completely foreign to Ginny. The man and her mother slowly at first then more rapidly became engulfed in a soft yellow light

Of in the distance Hermione, Ron and the twins had all congregated and were watching as the light grew. They didn't dare step any closer.

Ginny, who was watching, rapt, was shocked as her mother's cuts began healing, as her face regained its shape. Finally, the stranger bent down to her mother's lips and gave her want at first Ginny thought was a kiss. But then Molly started breathing, as if he blew the air back into her lungs. Then the light dissipated and the man stood, as the Weasleys came bounding toward them.

"Your mother is alive," he said with a small slightly tired smile.

Tears were streaming down Ginny's eyes, "thank you," she choked out.

"Gin—are you—" Ron started to ask, but he was cut off as Ginny launched herself at him.

"Ron, Mum's alive!" and as if to prove her point, Mrs. Weasley began to cough. They all dropped to her side. Each began to cry in relief as Molly opened her eyes.

No one noticed as the Dragon Prince disappeared from the sight; it was a private moment that he no longer had right to see.


Alexander Servator, the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor walked toward the front of Hogwarts Castle with firm determination set on his face, his black Ferragamo dress shoes crunched under the gravel. He walked quickly (he was late for a staff meeting) and his black wool pants rustled slightly with each step. In one hand was a Coach briefcase, in the other a Louis Vuitton suitcase. His gray calf length wool coat billowed, uncannily similar to Professor Snape's robes. He was thankful for his Burberry scarf as he was no longer used to the frigged weather of Scotland.

The blatantly obvious affluence of this man, however, was not the most striking thing about him (even if it was the most annoying). No, what was the most striking was his black hair that was wildly wavy and seemed to be made of the wind which was harnessed back into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. No, it was his eyes that were the most stunning thing about him, for they were a deep fathomless ocean green that held an expression of both fire and ice. Or maybe it was his prominent cheekbones and red lips, gracefully pointed features. Or the pointy ears hidden under his hair. Then again, perhaps it would just suffice to say that Servator was absolutely dashing.

As Professor Servator journeyed down the corridor leading to the Great Hall, it was almost as if everything was right, for a moment. Then Dumbledore called his name and he was awash with guilt again.

"Alex," the old man called without raising his voice at all (ah, the sweet mystic of Hogwarts and its headmaster).

He swirled around, not at all surprised by the quiet appearance; he had heard the man coming.

"Yes Headmaster?" The new teacher said turning and waiting for the ancient man to catch up with him.

"I just wanted to make sure you were aware that two Geniui Guards would be joining the staff this evening." Dumbledore said, as he and his staff member started moving again.

The man's eyebrows shot up, "Two, sir? Is that entirely necessary? Geniui are, after all, very powerful and very hard to come by."

"The attack on Diagon Alley shows me that in his new rein, without anyone that can properly oppose him, Voldemort shall be worse and more brutal than ever before, Geniui Guards are the least I can do to make Hogwarts safe against his attacks," the brilliant man stated, looking older and more worn then ever before.

"Of course, sir," The Defense professor whispered looking down at the floor.

Half an hour later, after the new professor had been introduced to the entire staff (excluding the two Geniui Guards, who were not there) and had partaken in a particularly agonizing meeting, the students started filing in.


The four were off of the train. They were more miserable than they should have been considering they were returning to Hogwarts. But then again, Hogwarts reminded them of Harry and Harry was dead. And Malfoy wasn't helping matters. He had sauntered into their compartment and gloated about how the Dark Lord would be ruling the world any day now. Until Ron had smashed his face in, of course; that had been gratifying.

But finally they were in the Great Hall, and it was almost relieving. Looking up at the staff table they saw two empty seats as well as a tall tan man with shoulder length wild black hair tied back in a leather and silver thong.

"Du'ya reckon that's the new defense professor?" Ron asked pointing to the well dressed man at the table.

"Obviously, Ronald," Hermione said warmly. Not looking at the man too closely as they sat down.

Sorting happened. Nothing important. In fact the Head Girl, Ron, Ginny and Neville zoned the entire thing out, opting, instead, for conversation.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore stated in usually greeting, after the last first year was seated, "To another fine year at Hogwarts. This year, several new rules and precautions will be put into place, as the Death Eater attacks become more numerous, starting with two new additions to the Hogwarts staff. Geniui Gar Basilicus and Geniui Sasha Regine. They are incredibly powerful guards that have been brought into Hogwarts for your protection, and will be patrolling the school at all times of the day. Presently, they are adding wards to the school. Until December, only Geniui Basilicus will be with us, and after winter break Geniui Regine will have returned to Hogwarts. Also, as always there is a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Alexander Servator." There was a polite applause for the powerful looking aqua-eyed young man, who waved at the students lazily—almost cat like in his movements—acknowledging the applause.

"Also there will be a nine o'clock curfew, at which time every student must be in their house dormitory, any student outside the safety of those walls, without permission from a professor or one of the Geniui, shall be punished severely. At 11 o'clock all students must be in bed. . Also Hogsmeade visits will be limited, as well as Quidditch matches and practices." Dumbledore continued. "Now, let the feast begin."

With that a clap, and the food appeared. When it did, Ron did not eat with the same gusto he had in previous years, which is new professor noticed sadly.

Everything else that happened that day and night was basically uneventful. The next day, however, started off with a bang for our three mourning adolescents.

Hermione had accidentally slept late. Her alarm hadn't gone off. Therefore, Ginny, Ron and Neville didn't have anyone to wake them up and they also slept in late. They raced in to the Great Hall in various states of disarray, barely nicking breakfast and almost missing the handing out of the schedules entirely.

"What class is first, Hermione?" Ron asked as he tied his tie at the table.

Hermione looked warily at her schedule, "Defense, I hope Servator actually knows what he's talking about, we can't afford to have another incompetent idiot teaching us."

"I hope he isn't mean either. I can only handle one petrifying teacher!" Neville worried. They just half heartedly laughed and Ginny patted Neville soothingly on the arm.


When Ron and Hermione walked into the classroom they were surprised by the average appearance of the room. No Ministry favoring advertisements, no pictures glorifying the professor of the room, no foe glass and Sneakoscopes. There was a small library of books and tons of scrolls littering the professor's desk. The board was crammed with notes. All in all the room was bizarrely normal, for that class at least.

Everyone had thought that the professor was late. But about ten minutes after the bell, he materialized leaning on the front of his desk. As if cued by a conductor, the entire class gasped in unison upon his appearance. And several random girls screamed. The professor winced, rolled his eyes, and held up his hand to silence them.

For the first time the students got quite a good look at the professor. He had a young face, about 21 or so. His huge eyes, however, showed many more years of knowledge; they were a bizarre unnatural shade of blue-green. His unruly hair was worn in a ponytail at the base of his neck. He was tall, about 6 and ½ feet, and muscular in a very lithe trim sort of way, and all of his movements were graceful and measured, a thinly veiled lethal predatory stance in his body. Servator wore muggle clothes—a pair of flat front gray wool pants and a tight dark green jumper—which was rather odd for a wizard, let alone a professor.

Hermione raised her hand.

"Miss…Granger?" He called looking at his seating chart, even though he didn't need to.

"Professor how did you apparate in Hogwarts? It's impossible, I read it in 'Hogwarts; a History'"

"Ah, yes. Well, it's a bit of a secret, Miss Granger, but I will tell you that not everything is as it seems," he answered cryptically. His speech was some how different, as though he did not originally speak English. And from what he said, Hermione got the feeling that her new professor wasn't just talking about his magical appearing act.

She just nodded in response, turning his words over in her head.

"Now," he said in a sudden burst of energy as he all but leaped into an erect position in the middle of his lecture pulpit, "My name is Alex Servator; I'll be your professor for the remainder of the year. You lot are at the biggest disadvantage, because you have the littlest amount of time to learn the most out of all the classes, being seventh years.

"So, in this class, at least, you will have to work your bums off, I will not tolerate slacking or lack of focus. This class will not be taken lightly. In here you will learn techniques that will someday save your life or the life of someone you love.

"We will cover dueling, defensive shields, weaponry, spells, and war strategy. I demand the best from you, and in return I promise an exciting and intriguing class. This subject is fascinating, and I regret the fact that a majority of your teachers in the past have been less than adequate.

"Also, I must reiterate how important it is that everyone in this class must pay attention. When you get out of Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort isn't going to care if you listened in Defense or not, and you'll feel like a real arse when he kills your wife and you know that you covered how to save her in Defense, and you just forgot because you didn't think that this class was important enough. I have no time for people who will take this class lightly.

"Now, in order to get a better understanding of what you have learned in the past, I have prepared a diagnostic test that will not be graded so that I may better understand what I need to cover, in order for there to be no holes in what you have learned by the end of your time at Hogwarts." Servator then grabbed a stack of papers and started handing out packets to each student. "You have an hour to complete the test, after that, there will be a question and answer period until the end of the class." He sat down at his desk and pulled out a book, "You may begin."

There were fifteen minutes left on the exam when a man walked into the classroom. He was almost as tall as Servator, with shaggy red hair and bizarre brown gold eyes. He was a bit more built than the teacher and his gait was a bit choppier and less feline-esque. He wore dragon hide boots and a belt with all sorts of fun toys on it, like poisons and daggers and guns and vials of healing draught, and a deep purple, finely made battle robe, keeping it open to reveal a layer of all black muggle clothes. He looked quite dangerous, really.

The Professor had quickly looked up upon the strange man's entrance, and choked on the coffee he had just taken a sip of.

"Hello Professor," the man said smirking.

"Gar?" Alex asked incredulously, still slightly breathless from his coffee escapade, "What in the name of the Trinity are you doing here?"

"Who else did you think would be a Geniui?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

Servator just started to laugh as he got out of his seat to embrace the man, much as a son would his father.

Suddenly the two men (who both look the same age, but somehow it was clear that the redheaded man was the elder of the two) started speaking rapidly in a foreign language that sounded like a romantic fusion of Latin, Aramaic, Greek, French and Spanish.

Even though she was trying desperately to focus on her quiz (which she found disturbingly difficult), Hermione was drawn to the two men standing in front of her.

When she finally looked up at them, she felt as if she knew these men but she just couldn't place it. She thought about it for several moments, but just as she was on the brink of a conclusion the timer buzzed signaling the end of the quiz, which she frantically remembered she wasn't finished.

TBC

10 reviews my lovies, or I shant continue

P.S. Sasha is a Russian form of Alexandra, of which Alexandréa is a form. Basilicus is Latin for regal and Regine comes from Regina which is Latin for queen and Geniui is a form of the Latin word Genius which means the guardian spirit of a man or place.

REVIEW