Disclaimer: Neither I, nor my psychotic partner Emily, own any of the brilliantly awesome Harry Potter characters, except the even cooler ones that you've never seen before. Em has daydreams about Harry Potter coming to our school. I, being past the stage of such petty dreams, like to think that sooner or later Death Eaters will blow up our school and we will save Harry from otherwise certain death. Who says maturity is wisdom now, eh?
Prologue Part Two is dedicated to my dad and that wonderful lady at Shaw, who by working together, fixed my internet connection. GO SHAW!
This chapter of the bizarre FF, Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch (GFT for short), brought to you by,
The hyper,
The fantastical,
The maniacal,
The exhausted - due to an erratic sleeping pattern,
And the all around cool cat that I am,
Abby.
Prologue
Part Two - Split Infinities
A woman stood amid piles of rubble inside a beautiful house. From the outside it looked as normal, grand and luxurious as can be, but the inside was a complete wreck. Debris and dirt everywhere. When she had started this project years ago she had never expected it to take this long to remake the house. The outside had taken so long . . . they had to replant trees, remake paths, reform the house itself, gather up magical creatures to live in the forest that had nearly all burned down on that night . . .
The woman sighed and her golden brown hair fell forward as she lowered her head in respect. Her blue eyes were shinning over-brightly and she began waving her wand, shoving the piles of what had once been furniture to one side. She made for the stairs. She knew she should wait, knew that Lara would want her to wait, but she couldn't. She was not conscious of the reason behind her strides. She half-glided up the stairs and into one of the many rooms on the upper floor. Inside there were a few small mounds of rubble, which were pushed aside with a flick of her wand.
Once she was inside the room, all she could do was stare. The wallpaper, which should have displayed a wild and comedic Quidditch game, was silent as a grave. There was not a single wall-paper-person in sight. The window, which should have been raining light into the room, was dusty and grimy.
She walked over to Gryffindor end of the pitch and stopped in front of the hoops. She could remember back to her Gryffindor days . . . she had been a superb Keeper . . . Slowly she traced her index finger over the rim of the middle ring. When she pulled her hand back the goal post glowed brightly for a moment before a hole appeared in the wall, right in the middle of the hoop. The lady cautiously reached her hand in and brushed the tips of her fingers against what felt like an ancient piece of parchment.
She took the small letter out of the whole in the wall and the secret compartment vanished. For a few minutes she just stared at the signatures at the bottom, her mind suspended is shock. Then her eyes moved to the top of the parchment and she read.
Through all the long years of her life she had held strong to her beliefs. She had kept hope where others had not. Even Lara had seemed to lose her faith. But this . . . this proved them all wrong. This was the sign she had been waiting for.
The brown haired woman turned the paper over. Her joy doubled when she spotted her own name. Dearest Tori . . . This was it! She had been searching the newspapers, asking all her contacts and hoping incessantly for a sign like this! It was fate!
She stood up and strode out of the house. She would send an owl to Dumbledore immediately. Then she and Rose would return to Britain. And they would be met with open arms by the man that they hadn't seen in over fifteen years . . .
Night was settling in around her. She could feel it in her bones. But as the thick foliage let no external light penetrate the depths of this forest, nestled deep in the Canadian wilderness, the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon would go unnoticed.
The trees were flying past her, blurring into a sea of green leaves and black shadows, as she urged her horse on faster. Flicker. The great black mare was the fastest horse in her stables and was by far the most intelligent animal she could have ever hoped to meet. She could never claim ownership over such a glorious creature. They had braved too many adventures together, as companions and partners, to regard each other with anything other than respect and pride.
She shook her head to clear it and adjusted the girl clinging to her so that she could see over the teen's head. The girl's eyes were clenched shut, tight, and her arms were latched around her mother's neck, as though afraid that if she let go she would slip into darkness. She was almost the exact opposite of her mother in every way. Her black hair, streaked with silver, flew out behind her as Flicker galloped through the woods and her tall, pale form was curled up on the saddle in front of her mother. Her mother could never remember a time when she had been able to hold onto her daughter like this, the only thing saving her from falling over the edge . . .
Her bright green eyes narrowed and she dug her heels into Flicker's sides. Her whitish blonde tresses swung down in front of her eyes as her mount rounded a sharp corner and she impatiently brushed them away. Her petit form was exhausted, she could no longer remember how long they had been riding, just knew that they had a ways to go yet.
Suddenly, dread settled into her heart as she felt the arms around her neck go slack. She swiftly grabbed hold of her falling daughter with both hands, abandoning the reins. Flicker knew the way.
"Abby . . ." the blonde woman whispered worriedly. Her daughter, Abby, turned her head weakly to look at her and gave a muffled sound from the back of her throat. Her eyes were wide, and their usual amber color was clouded by purple. The venom. "Hold on, ma chérie."
This is it, she slightly frantically. The Fifth Stage. If I can't get Abby to the Tree soon then she won't make it . . . NO! she straitened her shoulders fiercely and took out her wand. I can't think like that . . . she will make it . . . if she doesn't what will I tell -
Abruptly, she was flung from her thoughts as a dark shape came flying out of the trees, knocked her off her steed and fell on top of her on the ground. From the corner of her eye, she could see her only daughter, slumped forward in the saddle, turning her head weakly, searching for her mother, atop of a majestic black horse with ripples of green in its mane and tail. As long as Abby was with Flicker, no harm would come to her. They were almost out of sight now, and she could hear her mare neighing and whinnying. Yes, they would be fine.
Now her attention turned to her attacker. He was clad in expensive-looking black robes, with a silver trim and had his hood pulled up to hide his face. He stood up gracefully, dusted himself off and looked down at the woman lying at his feet. She could have sworn that she saw a malicious smile play across his shadowed features.
From the ground she watched as the man lowered his hood and had to stop herself from letting out a gasp of shock and anger. His was a face that she had hoped never to see again.
"Hello, hello," he murmured quietly, amber eyes flashing, the very image of the calm before a storm. The trusted brother that turns and stabs his sibling in the back. "What brings you here, Laraleie, Guardian?"
(A/N: Ok, so this is up now - and technically it is Mon night so you can't kill me! - and Emily and I just have to work out where Ch 1 ends before we put that up. No one has emailed me, although the reason behind that might just be cuz my msn is broken. Drop me a line .ca if I still haven't replied on msn, k?
Now that we have done the intros for Tori and Lara (Laraleie), will anyone venture a guess as to where we are taking this? You know that Abby (Abbika) is Lara's daughter, and obviously Rose is Tori's (and if you didn't, well, I just told you, so . . .). Can anyone guess who their dads are?
The intros to Rose and Abby come next and from there the duo meet the trio (ha ha, Rose and Abby meet Harry, Ron and Hermione). Well they don't actually meet the entire trio . . . but I've said too much already.
Wish me luck at Fencing tomorrow, last week I sucked . . . but that might be cuz I stayed up till like 1:00 am that night before.
Night!
GO R&R! NOOOOOOOOOOW!)
