If you wanna see disclaimers, read the first line of the first chapter.
Blurring Visions
By Kaj-Nrig
Author's Notes: Well, now that I've successfully dodged all hate e-mails, death threats, and other various hazardous material, I've got the chance to present to you, the readers (or reader, or... um... hmm...), the next chapter of my idiot brainchild. Enjoy! (Wait a minute. There was something else... uh... Damn, can't remember. Oh, well.) Oh, yeah. For anybody who didn't read my notes in the first chapter, I am NOT (repeat: NOT) a Harry Potter fan!
PS – The author of this quote: "idiot brainchild" did not incur any sort of injury in the form of hate e-mails, death threats, and/or any other various hazardous material as of this writing. In fact, said author did not RECEIVE any form of hate e-mail, death threat, and/or any other various hazardous material, otherwise known as flames.
"Hey, do you SERIOUSLY think I could survive a bullet to the HEAD?" - Ron Weasley
The baby was coming.
The sun overlooked a large, swirling metropolis laden with sharp-pinnacled towers and spires. The highest one, located in the center of the city, was the center of attention. Hundreds of people filed up and down its massive steps, carrying everything from blankets to medicine to food to sealing wards.
The entire city held their breath and stared up into the massive granite-white tower. Today was the day. The woman's screams of pain echoed throughout the castle city, giving a rather personal status report. Even in the forests surrounding it, the trolls, elves, unicorns, and the other denizens of the forest seemed to pause in their daily activities as the shriek reached their ears. Everybody was on edge for some reason.
The baby was coming.
The sun's light bounced off the very point at the top of the castle tower, eerily collecting there for a moment. Then it moved on, soaking into the ground thousands of feet below. But a few seconds later, the light coalesced in that same spot again, swirling in place for a second longer than necessary. The sun blinked, and it was gone.
The baby was coming.
But the light, the stubborn light, continued to form and disappear in the same spot, as if teasing the sun. The sun blinked once again, almost entranced by the trick it had unwittingly performed. The woman's cries ceased suddenly, and the sun ceased its observations; the shrieks had become a sort of background lullaby. Then its highly-tuned ears could faintly make out the baby's squealing from inside the tower (which was rather odd, considering it HAD no ears), and it breathed a sigh of relief.
The baby had come.
Its breath of light streaked toward the planet, and before it knew what was going on, the stream of light had coalesced again on top of the spire.
And a wave of energy shot from the large tower, and Kingdom Voldemort disintegrated.
BLURRING VISIONS
Chapter Two: How to Kill a Griffin/A Catalyst
(The Gryffindor Academy's infirmary, Griffin's Watch)
"Mr. Potter, it is quite alright. She only fainted because of magic overdose, nothing more. It's a rather usual occurrence with glyphs, I assure you." The nurse tried her best to quell young Harry's frantic pacing, but he couldn't seem to pay her any attention.
"What the bloody hell happened to you, Hermione? I know it wasn't just some magic overdose. You would've been able to control that! I know it!" he uttered to himself, eyes darting to the sky-blue cloth draped around her cushion in an almost panicked fashion. Damn it all! I KNOW it had something to do with that glyph she was working on! He would've dug a trench into the floor if it weren't for a sleepy groan emerging from Hermione's sleeping mattress. Before he even had the thought, he had flung apart the drapes, anxiety and relief moving his body for him. "Hermione! Hermione, are you alright?"
"Uungh..! N-not so loud, please..." Hermione rubbed her temple sorely, slowly trying to massage the headache away. "...what happened, Harry? Where am I?" The young girl slowly lifted herself up a bit off the mattress, supporting her upper body on the off-white sheets. Harry looked at her to make sure she was alright before he answered.
"You're in the infirmary. After you fainted, Professor Snapes called the nurse and you ended up here. You've been asleep for three hours." He took a seat on the bed next to her, and she found her face heating up at his proximity. The intense gaze he affixed on her quickly made her blush. "Hermione, you know, about what happened earlier..."
"H-huh?... S-sorry. I must've hit my head harder than I thought. About that..." His chocolate-brown eyes seemed to entrance her, begged her to lie down and drown in them forever, and she almost didn't hear his comment. "Um, Harry..."
"Look, if you don't want to talk about it..."
"I don't." He seemed a bit shocked at that answer. "Sorry, Harry. I'm just... well, I need some more time to go over it, that's all. Bear with me 'til then, alright?" She tore her gaze from him for a brief moment, looking down at her bedcovers as if they were the world.
"Hey, don't worry, Hermione. Just rest up," he said, grasping her chin lightly and turning her to face him again. "But 'til then, I'm still gonna need some reassurance." She smiled as he leaned in and placed his warm, soothing hands on the small of her back. Her own wrapped around his neck and they kissed for the longest time, his lips tasting like a little slice of heaven.
When he finally let go of her, she let a loose, goofy smile grace her features as she lay back on the mattress. "Well, I suppose I'll have to think on it a little more, huh?" He let out a small chuckle, and she felt herself get lighter, as if the ordeal just a few hours ago had never happened. As he turned to leave, she stopped him by saying, "Thanks, Harry. I'll be out in a little bit."
He replied without turning around, "Don't worry about me, Hermione. Just focus on getting better."
"I will."
(A number of kilometers north of Griffin's Watch)
It was getting close to evening now, and the sparse amount of people on the road before were even less now. Those that remained passed or were passed by him with no words exchanged, as much as strangers did. These people did not seem to know that he was a convicted criminal. Nor did they seem to care.
They nevertheless kept their distance, as if dissuaded by an invisible aura. This pleased him.
Some people might have questioned as to why he, a powerful magician, would sink to walking the streets like common folk. It didn't matter to him. He was searching for the King, and if he ran to some other place in Gryffindor, then he'd follow him there. Time didn't mean so much to him. If anything at all, time probably meant more to the King, whose old and worn body couldn't possibly last for another decade. However, he did want to see him pay for his crimes, so he supposed that time WAS of the essence.
Still, despite this fact, he continued walking, large sword still scraping a path through the sand and dirt. He figured that there was still plenty of time left. And besides, he didn't want the King to be aware of his actions until he deemed it appropriate. Only an idiot would reveal his position prematurely.
So, without the slightest break in step, he walked, going to where the King lay.
(Gryffindor Academy)
There was something in the air when he stepped out, and Ron could feel it nearly wash over him as he entered the courtyard. He couldn't quite place a finger on it, but he felt as if he should run to a different side of the university as quickly as possible.
"Weasel!" Ah. That was it.
Draco. I really should've known. The voice came from a stone pillar to the left of his vision and echoed throughout the open courtyard, as if Malfoy were speaking to him from atop the walls. He turned his head toward the pillar and replied, "Draco, I don't want any-"
His head rocked back as the white-blonde boy's fist cracked into his skull, a crunch reverberating through his head as black spots and Draco's fist flew above his eyes. The cry of pain was stopped short as Draco quickly chanted a spell and an invisible force drove into him, coiling like a drill into his gut. "Uk-huuuuh!" What was supposed to be the cry of pain instead came out as a wheezing rasp as he tumbled to the ground, struggling to get his breath and clutching his diaphragm.
"Get up, Weasel! Stop fucking the floor like that Granger bitch!" A steel-toed foot kicked his ribs, his jaw, his crotch; the wealthy boy didn't seem to care at the moment whether Ron suffered a broken bone or two. Or three.
Students gasped and crowded around the two as the beating continued, none wishing to try their luck against Draco. When he finally stopped, Ron coughed up blood, his face and arms bruised; his midnight-black robe concealed all the other injuries. "Ugh... F-fuck you, Mal-"
"Shut up, Weasel!" Another kick made him curl up piteously. He laughed silently inside his head. These bruises would be gone before a minute passed, and any broken bones (if he had any) would be perfectly mended within another four.
Another door opened behind the growing crowd, and a certain black-haired boy immediately took in the scene with disgust. "MALFOY!" In an instant, Harry was waving his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The students in between him and his target suddenly found themselves thrust to either side of the corridor, their feet mere centimeters off the ground. "Sanctus Flamora!" A spark of fire – no, it was more like a fireball – sped from his glowing wand and cracked the tile near Draco, white-hot shards of stone burning small holes through his cloak and falling to melt back into the floor.
Draco didn't react for a second, shocked at having been caught by Harry. That second was more than enough time for Harry to knock him back with a spell much like the one he himself had just used on Ron a few moments earlier. Falling to his knees, Draco struggled to get a breath as he snarled at Harry.
Ron struggled to his feet, favoring his left arm. "Are you alri-" Harry was quick to ask, but his question died in his mouth as he took a look at the young boy. Ron smiled back and rolled his left shoulder a bit.
"I'm alright, thanks." When he saw Harry staring at him, he answered, "I heal quickly."
Before more could be said, however, a booming voice called out from across the courtyard. "WHAT is going on?" the menacing man shouted, his jet-black hair nearly melting into his equally black cloak like water. His stern expression demanded an explanation immediately.
The students said nothing, trading glances at the three in the middle of the crowd. Ron hid his left arm behind Harry for a second while averting his gaze from the professor. Harry took turns glaring daggers at Malfoy and looking curiously at Ron. Malfoy did much the same as Harry, save for the last part.
"Well?" the professor asked, walking up to them. "Is someone going to give me a plausible excuse, or do I have to send ALL of you to detention?" His gaze swept across every student present.
Draco deftly concealed his wand before hissing, "Recreation, Professor Snapes. Just recreation. Right, WEASLEY?" He eyed Ron with a choice of salvation or certain doom. Ron simply smiled at him, an amused, mocking grin.
"Of course. We were just testing what we'd learned, Professor Snapes. As you can see, none of us were dealt any harm." And much to Draco's chagrin and surprise, Ron splayed out his arms and twirled as if he were on the edge of a runway, beaming a grin at Draco as they made eye contact.
Snapes nodded, obviously not falling for such an amateurish trick. Nevertheless, he allowed it to pass. "Well, then. You all have... four minutes before your next class. Don't dawdle."
Harry kept eyeing Ron with a certain sense of awe that made the red-head blush. "Um... h-how did you, y'know..." Harry's question drifted off. Ron smiled pleasantly at him and placed a fingernail to the back of his other hand. He flicked just hard enough to break the skin. He laughed at Harry's expression as he witnessed the scratch fold back in on itself, drop of blood and all.
"Yeah, don't see that often, do you? It's something about me. I heal fast."
Harry's mouth hung open. "Wait... are YOU that one boy... Roland... Robert... Ron... Ronald Weasley?" he asked in shock, taking a step back as if Ron were some sort of divine being. Ron laughed again, inciting a smile from Harry.
"Well, I don't think I'm as famous as you, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived." He held out his hand in a warm greeting. "Pleasure to know you, Harry Potter."
"Pleasure, Ron Weasley." They shook hands.
"You sure?" Ron asked as they headed back to their dorms.
Harry thought a bit before shaking his head. "That's what the nurse said. Me, I think something weird happened. Hermione isn't someone who gets outmatched that easily. She ALWAYS knows at least three ways of getting past an obstacle. Believe me, she's a freak. I never knew all those books were good for anything." Ron nodded, chuckling a bit.
"Yeah, I've seen her quite often in the library. I still can't believe she's a first-year, what with the size of those books she reads and all." He took a look at Harry, and, noticing the concerned look on his face, said, "You think she'll be alright?"
"...Yeah. I hope so, at least."
There was a long pause after that, an uneasy silence as they walked the halls.
"This's my room. See you later," Ron reluctantly said.
"Yeah."
(Still outside Griffin's Watch, but closer now)
A hundred twenty seven people had passed him by now. It was very amusing, seeing how they strayed so near him without the slightest bat of an eye. Ah, it seemed the only ones who knew his face were bounty hunters. Bounty hunters and they. They, the ones who had stolen what meager connections he'd had left to the rest of the world. For an instant, his anger flared, but he quickly let it pass away.
Why was he angered? They hadn't meant much to him. They fed him, clothed him, but they had never been what he assumed a family was. They had seemed to take care of him out of some warped sense of duty, but he'd paid off their deed by the time they were killed. He had been saddened, of course; they'd still saved his life, no matter what else. He had just not been as emotionally attached to them as most would suspect.
He wiped these thoughts out of his head as he saw the tops of Griffin's Watch's towers in the distance. His stomach rumbled suddenly, and he let out a short, mirthless laugh. You can survive another twenty years or so, pal. No need to rush things along.
But then, as if out of nowhere, a small shack popped into view. The sign over the front of the door read: RAVENCLAW BAR & INN. Well, it seemed he wouldn't have to wait that long after all.
After a quick meal, he continued on his way. At the pace he was going at, he'd reach the gates around nightfall. A smile suddenly came up to his lips. He didn't know why he smiled; it had sprung up by itself. Perhaps he was thinking of finally killing the great wizard Dumbledore. Or maybe he thought of the fact that after Dumbledore, he would have no other purpose.
(The infirmary, once again)
There was a slight shift in the lining of the blue curtain, and the nurse stepped up to it, folded it back, and retrieved a chair for which to sit on. "So, I see you're well enough to walk. Rather surprising, actually. Most people don't get up from a magical overdose for at least twelve hours." She gave Hermione a bright smile, and the brunette found herself smiling back, but the smile faltered at the last statement.
"A magical OVERDOSE? Really, nurse, you can't expect ME to have succumbed to magical OVERDOSE! I can think of at least THREE- ugh, sorry. I guess I'm still a bit rattled up from the experience." But I know it WASN'T just magical overdose! Those... coils... they were reaching for... for...
The nurse nodded casually, patiently. "Please, no apology necessary. Well, one thinks you'd like to be getting back to class, eh? Just let me do a few quick tests to make sure you're fine." She lifted a Popsicle stick from her coat pocket. "Here, open your mouth and say 'Aaaah.'" Hermione complied. "Alright, now stick this in your mouth... your temperature's normal. Alright, one last thing before you I let you go. Open your eyes wide." Hermione struggled against the urge to blink as the nurse shone a flashlight into each iris, the pupils in their center immediately reacting to the offensive light. "Okay. You're perfectly fine. Have fun in class!"
Hermione nodded in the direction of the voice, rose to her feet, and waded to the door, large purple spots replacing her center of vision. "Thanks. Don't be surprised if you see me back here with a bump on my head or something." After a bump on the head via the door, Hermione was gone.
Well, guess I've thought about it long enough. Not hardly enough to make sense of it all, though.
As her mind franticly tried to retrieve the elusive memories, her feet made an automatic, well-trained trip to a certain boys' dorm wing.
(The Malfoy residence)
"Young sir, how was-" The servant's question was cut off as a book bag was thrust into his arms. Draco stalked past him, cursing quietly under his breath. The servant took in his young master's mood immediately and set off to get his special wand.
"Damn that Potter bastard," Draco mumbled to himself. "What the hell makes him think he's so special? Annoying little snot-nosed bastard. KROPSKI! Where's my WAND?"
"R-r-right here, young master." The smooth, lacquered piece of alabaster oak wood was snatched away by the young master's hand, and immediately twirled an incantation onto the floor.
Draco smiled as he felt that wild, eldritch design pulse inside his head as well as his floor. "Akuma Prisca Sendirius," he whispered to himself, and the portal swirled to life, soft green waves of light spinning in a circle around him. Sighing as a wave of raw, primal pleasure soaked into his pores, the young Malfoy stepped directly onto the glowing lines of the portal. He didn't seem surprised when his foot sank into it and pulled the rest of his body in like quicksand.
So, I take it something bothered you today?
Hmph. You could say that.
Well, I- we- this place has all the time in the world.
Thanks. I know you already know, but...
Yes. You need to get it off you.
Yeah. Thanks.
Well, this morning...
(The capital of Griffin's Watch)
In an isolated patch of earth that mirrored many around the large castle, something stirred. It was not unusual for things to stir; on the contrary, things stirred all the time. But this WAS an unusual stirring. It came from a corpse.
Or, at least, it should've come from a dead corpse.
A small point formed as the dirt was pushed from below. For hours, the point appeared and receded back into the ground, as if measuring its own courage. Then a finger wiggled through the dark clumps of soil. Then a hand. And a forearm. The entire arm came next, followed by the shoulder. This arm was covered by a sparkling forest-green sleeve, and the smudges of dirt and rotted grass made it seem almost organic, living.
Then, with a tremendous effort, the arm planted itself firmly against the top of the soil, pushing. More soil gave way, scattering down a disheveled mass of brown-black hair, sweeping off a rigid, aged back, and tumbling off mossy green robes. The woman that rose from death struggled weakly to her feet, exhausted beyond sleep. Shaking off the excess dirt, she patted her shimmering evergreen robe and looked up at the darkening sky. The sky stared back and saw a pair of slit cat eyes.
(Harry's dorm room, Gryffindor Academy)
He'd just been about to take a nap when a knock alerted him to the door. It tapped again.
Tap tap tap, tap-tap, tap. Tap.
He rushed to the door and nearly ran through it as he unbolted it. "Hermione!" he cried, his face alight with joy. "When'd you get out?"
She flashed him a bright smile, quickly entering his room. "Just now," she answered, nervously taking a look at the various things in his bedroom, though there was little she didn't recognize already. She sat down on his well-made bed, twirling her fingers in an unconscious manner. Her eyes looked down at the floor, her mind still considering at which point to start, or whether she should even say anything. Harry's sense of relief was quickly dissipated as he took in the aura she exuded. He sat down silently on the bed next to her, his shoulder barely brushing hers.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. The sun, already on its descent toward the horizon, sunk deep into the darkened resting place, casting long, eerie shadows through the open window that overlooked the center of the city; the clock tower, located near the deep middle of the city along with the capital, was blotted out by one of these shadows. A soft breeze blew through the room, picking her hair up and fluttering it in Harry's direction. He could smell her scent in the locks of curly brown hair, and he barely resisted the urge to lean in and take in a deep breath of her.
Finally, after what seemed to be (and probably was) hours, she said, in a small voice, "H-He wanted to..." She paused, but continued. "He wanted to kill you, Harry." Harry nodded slowly, waiting for the whole answer. "It was... I don't know, maybe I should start at the beginning..."
"Relax, Granger. You're making the same mistake. Don't force the magic. Just let it come to you." She struggled against the invisible strings of magic running between her outstretched hands and the smooth, gray stone tablet. The intricate, alien letters seemed to rise off the stone, shimmering a soothing, cool blue light. She said something as she let the magical threads loose, but she tried to focus on relaxing her body and mind.
The sense of flowing arcane energy almost drowned her in its sensual folds, encasing her within an invisible blanket. A point of light suddenly appeared in the vast darkness of her closed eyes, and she realized: she was inside the rune. Her spirit had actually gone INTO the rune!
Brimming with pride, she allowed herself to drift into the light that was the core of the rune's magic. It grew bigger in her eyes, and soon it overtook her, and she knew that she was at the nexus of energy, so full of feeling that she thought she'd die and be reborn a hundred times before she could waste this gorgeous sensation.
"...and there was this... it felt like I was staring into the distance. And something was there, all the way at the end of the horizon. Something..."
She reached for the heart of the core, a pulsing white orb that hung suspended in this strange anti-world. It was within her grasp now...
"But then, suddenly, those- the rune started... you'll probably think I'm crazy for saying this, but..." She paused for the fifth time. "But it... it attacked me, Harry," she finished in a whisper, so faint he had to strain his ear to hear.
The coils of magic pooled within her, swirling around the inside of her body like some sick, twisted snake. "GET THE HELL- THE HELL OUT... GET THE HELL OUT OF ME!" she screamed, but her mind seemed to reject the notion, sinking ever further into the swirling ball of defiled magic.
Then everything vanished in a white haze of light, cleansing away all the monstrous emotions and senses, leaving her feeling strangely at rest. Somewhere, far in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was death, but she knew better. Then what WAS it, if not death?
The light crept away, sucked into a point beyond her, almost like a rewind function of what happened earlier. Her eyes blinked furiously (which wasn't possible, considering her eyes were closed), green and purple spots dancing away to reveal the face of a young, rather handsome man. Dark brown hair fell in uneven patches around his head, and seemed to reach to the back of his neck. His eyes glared an intimidating hazelnut, and his chin was set in the fiercest determination she'd ever seen. And his ears... his ears...
"He had pointed ears," she recalled, still keeping her eyes trained to the floor. Harry didn't say anything, didn't try to; he instead placed an arm around her slim waist, pressing her closer to him. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, but they were replaced by one priority – her.
"Keep going," he urged, dismissing an annoying little voice in the back of his head. There was nothing to be suspicious about. After all, this was Hermione. She wouldn't pay so much attention to some stranger, especially a guy, unless it mattered.
That thought brought along a lot of its ugly buddies, and he tried his best to keep his uncertainties at bay.
She continued.
His eyes shone with rage in her direction, but it was as if he were staring at something behind her. She froze where she was; it seemed like she was in midair, observing him without the restraints of gravity. Then, without warning, he lunged at her, his dark, gloved hand flaring bright red before it covered her face.
POTTER!
"Potter?" she whispered to herself, turning around to get a good look at what he was reaching for...
Her eyes suddenly blacked out again, but a wealth of feeling surged into her. Physical feeling. Something she hadn't felt for what seemed like an eternity. Am I out of the stone?
"Hermione! Hermione, are you okay? Answer me! Hermione!"
"Granger! Hey, Granger! Stop being so dramatic and get up!"
"Miss Granger? Are you alright?"
"Hermione! Hey, what's wrong?"
Something about that last voice triggered something in her. What was it...? P-Pot... Potter...
Her eyes slowly opened, and she was met with the warm reception of reality. H-Harry? "D-don't worry, Harry. It's alright. I'm fine. It was just-" A knife suddenly clove through her entire body, spilling red-hot pain all over her body. That snake was in her again! The serpent of magic writhed around her crotch, squeezed her stomach spasmodically, picked at her brain. She thrashed on the floor as her mind was relieved of its freedom, random memories brought to surface from her treasure chest of a mind and quickly thrown away like an unwanted toy. She was being defiled again!
Then one image appeared. Ah, yes, the image was nice. It would suit their uses perfectly. The tendrils of magic snared it from her, whipped at the person within, tearing him into bloody pieces. "NO!" she screamed, but the coils of unholy magic paid her no attention, intent on prying his fingernails off, twisting his arm around and around until the skin and muscle peeled off, and gouging his eyes in and resting inside his own skull before bursting open.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Then a darkness enveloped her, and she slept.
Tears were pooling in her eyes when she finished. Harry was at a loss for words; he hadn't expected anything this serious. He only held her in an odd, uneasy way; she seemed so far away from him, even though they weren't more than a millimeter apart.
She sniffled, abruptly standing up and away from his arms. She wiped her face twice and strode toward the door. "I-I'm sorry, Harry. I have to go. It's getting late." Even to him, it sounded like a bad excuse. He wondered what it must have sounded like to her.
"Y-yeah. Sure. Hey, Hermione?" he asked as she opened the door. "Look, I want you to feel something." He grabbed her hand before she could protest and placed it on his chest. She gasped lightly, but didn't remove her hand. "No matter what happened in there, Hermione, you have to understand..." He took her hand off his heartbeat, but didn't let go. "I'm still here. And I always will be. Okay?"
"...okay." She turned around and embraced him, as if making sure he was truly alive. He smelled like lavender, she realized. It brought a small smile to her face. It fell, however, as she felt him closing in to kiss her. The image of rage and desperation on that man's face played over and over in her mind; and she could remember the tentacles pouring out his mouth like gut-eating serpents. Her body nearly froze up with fear, but she quickly – a bit too quickly – pushed off him, stepping out into the now-chilled hallway. Her eyes were wide with irrational fear for just a flicker of a moment; she looked the other way an instant later, but he'd already seen her expression of horror. "I have to go," she explained quickly before heading toward the girl's wing, taking measured steps to keep from sprinting out of sight.
Harry said nothing as she walked down the hallway, still holding his door open. After standing motionless for a few seconds, he, too, closed the door to escape the memory of a fear of death and an unaccepted kiss.
(Back at the castle, but not where we left off)
The small, fist-sized crystal glowed in Dumbledore's hands again, but it was a different one now. He bathed in its warm light as he watched the sunset from atop his castle balcony; the large orb of light slowly lost itself to the darkened horizon. Sighing to himself for an unknown reason, the old wizard cupped his hands over the crystal, capturing the light within his fingers. So, he thought to himself as he turned around and made his way into a well-polished circular altar room, he's finally coming. An expression that mixed both pride and regret sunk his usually cheery disposition, the stark contrast making him seem even more vulnerable and sad. It's been five, no, ten years since he escaped from Godric's Hollow... But no matter. I have all the time in the world now, and I'll make sure he doesn't get away again.
He shook his head forlornly, steeling his resolve. Placing the stone atop a thin, sturdy pillar of marble that was situated in the middle of the room, Dumbledore stepped to the walls of the room, reached a intricate-looking display stand, and pulled out a foot-long wooden object. The object looked like a wand, except it had a large forked end with small pieces chiseled away on the inside of the two tongs. Placing the wand-fork in between his index and middle fingers with the forked end sticking up, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the space dividing the fork's tongs.
The crystal in the middle of the room suddenly flared to life, and a beam of ropey white light lanced from it to the wand's fork. It coalesced in the space in between them, building into a small orb of pure white light.
"Yes," he whispered to himself, returning to the balcony. The sun in the horizon was now just a small sliver of red-orange, but it was still bright enough that the stars weren't visible. "Today is the day you meet your brother, Voldemort.
"Today you meet the Sorcerer's Stone."
(The city of griffins)
As night fell, Griffin's Watch seemed to slow to a stuttering halt, as if the city itself were going to sleep. Kids were tucked into their small beds, their equally small bodies seeming to yawn together and drift into unconsciousness as one. Men and women cuddled together within their shared beds, some seeking body warmth to soothe them through the night, others searching for a much more intimate soothing. For the students of Gryffindor Academy, sleep came reluctantly, for it would signal the coming of another school day, and the gods only knew how much they despised that.
Nearly all the citizens of Griffin's Watch slept that night, not knowing how much the world would change in those eight short, long hours. Nearly all of them would never have fathomed the fates that would collide here, fates that would ultimately decide the future of the planet.
Nearly.
Two creatures stood at contrary status in the city; one was securely wrapped within the deepest center of the labyrinthine city, while the other stood outside the gates, itching to force his way into the stone-and-metal womb. Both prepared for a battle that they knew would change both their lives, but even they would have no idea of the ramifications of their duel tonight.
Voldemort, like the king in the castle's high central tower, called up the most powerful of arcane abilities, and soon the day was revived again.
(Voldemort)
Voldemort almost twitched when the four security guards stepped up to him. "Sorry, sire. Weh don't le' no trahvelers in afta dark. There's an inn yah can stay a' tha's jus' an hour back the way ye came. Deeply apologize, tha' I do," the one who seemed to be the ranking officer said. His eyes flicked almost imperceptibly to Voldemort's long sword, which was still digging its trench in the earth; his eyes widened when he realized its length – the blade was nearly as long as Voldemort was tall. Voldemort took notice of this and found the others also sizing him up, their gray-green robes almost rippling to reveal sharp broadswords. They took deceivingly casual reinforcing positions to the side of their leader, two on his right and one on his left. He could also make out a slight ripple in the spaces around them, something he'd come to identify as a shield spell. He smiled benignly at the unfortunate soldiers. Surprised no one knows my face. Surprised no one notices the pointed ears, the giant sword, the silver-brown hair...
"Aye, sir. It's no problem a' all, officers. I'll get back on me trail 'ere an' rest a spell or two a' tha' inn you'se were so inclined tah inform meh off. Sorry to bother ye, officers. I'll be on me way, now." He turned his back to them. As he did, his left hand reached down to grab something on his small pouch, casually tapping the handle of his sword as it did so. He had only taken a step the way he'd come before the soldier flanking his ranking officer's left coughed painfully, clutching his abdomen. The pressure of the touch pushed the skin and muscles back, and a pool of hot, steaming blood poured out of the cut wound. The slice was perfectly straight, and when the two halves of his body fell down, it was obvious that the sword had cut completely through his body.
The commanding officer simply stood for a moment, his dark eyes calm and unbelieving. Slow realization dawned on him, and his calm and disbelief gave way to shocked fright. "What th-" Before he could finish, Voldemort brandished his blade and swept his sword in a horizontal arc, downing his partners and he. Placing his slim, giant sword in his left hand, the wizard brought his other hand up and pointed it at the city gates. Well, well. Here I come, Dumbledore. Prepare yourself.
"Hungry, hungry hippo," he whispered, a coy, playful smile coming to his face. Red lights began to swirl around his hand, coalescing into a fist-sized ball. The energy built up, growing a white-hot center until it resembled a miniature sun. Then the ball burst into little motes of light, arcing to the city gates; they burned through the steel as if it were paper, and continued into the city, digging a trench nearly all the way into the middle of it.
"Hungry, hungry hippo wants his dinner." And the attack began.
-End Chapter Two-
Author's Notes: Okay, since I just updated TFJ, I decided I'd update this, as well. But I was stuck with so much writer's block after this part of the story that I just decided to upload what I had so far. It's not much, but I guess it gets the job done. The next chapter will finish what this one was supposed to (at least, I hope so). As usual, R&R (Read and Review), C&C (Comments and Criticism), and all that other good stuff. See you next time. (If, that is, I can get past my writer's block.)
Encyclopedia:
Gryffindor – One of the three remaining countries of Hogwarts; the other two are Slytherin and Muggle. Gryffindor, like its original status in Harry Potter, is a country in which the entire culture is based on magic. It is the largest of the three countries (in terms of surface area, population, and prosperity), and was once a good ally of Kingdom Voldemort, before its destruction. Its national symbol is, of course, the griffin, and its kings have all descended from the line of Weltall de Gryffindor, its founder. Its capital city is Griffin's Watch, and its current king is Albus Dumbledore.
Godric's Hollow – I forget its relevance within HP, but in here it was the place Voldemort escaped from years before. If somebody knows what it was supposed to be in HP, please tell me; it's been too long since I last read The Sorcerer's Stone. Godric's Hollow is located a couple hundred miles south-southeast of Griffin's Watch (which is located another hundred miles or so south of the Forbidden Forest). The site and the area surrounding it are virtually non-existent now.
The Forbidden Forest – The enchanted forest that surrounds the ruins of Kingdom Voldemort; The Forbidden Forest is certain death to any who enter it. It was formed in the time immediately following Voldemort's destruction, and is filled with all the magical creatures of old. The only major difference I've determined between this Forest and the one in HP is that this one was formed rather recently (about twenty years ago).
Voldemort – This name refers to not only Voldemort, but also the kingdom of Voldemort, which was destroyed twenty years ago. It means "flight of death". Strictly speaking, Voldemort is the name of the kingdom, and Keinslan is Voldemort's true first name. The 'de' in 'Keinslan de Voldemort' means 'of,' implying that Keinslan is from that country. The same is true for Weltall de Gryffindor (Weltall means "universe" if you wanted to know).
Kingdom Voldemort lies at the center of Hogwarts, and is/was the "stabilizing factor" for the three other countries. Its power was great, unrivaled even by Gryffindor. However, with its destruction twenty years ago, it has been condensed into a single person – Keinslan de Voldemort.
Draco Malfoy – Nothing much here to explain about Draco, except that his name means "dragon of bad faith," roughly.
Ravenclaw – One of the Houses of Hogwarts in HP, Ravenclaw has now been reduced to nothing more than a small inn residing outside Griffin's Watch. Kinda sad, if you think about it...
"Turning of the Cogs of Fate" – The alternate title of Chapter 1 comes from a classic PS RPG, Chrono Cross. The full version goes:
"What was the start of all this?
When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?
Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now,
From deep within the flow of time…
But, for a certainty, back then,
We loved so many, and hated so much,
We hurt others, and were hurt ourselves...
Yet, even then, we ran like the wind,
Whilst our laughter echoed,
Under cerulean skies..."
I just think it's a nice little poem. Don't you?
The Sorcerer's Stone – Okay, I'm pretty sure people know what the Sorcerer's Stone is. All-powerful, able to grant anything, sort of like a genie, etc. etc. The Sorcerer's Stone in this story may as well be the same thing, cuz' I ain't changing nuthin'. It does, as Dumbledore said, have a connection to Voldemort, but I won't get into that right now.
