A/N: Hey, everybody thanks so much for the reviews and alerts. I apologize for this coming as late as it has, but other stories have taken up my time.
Question: If Teddy were born in 1997, would he be six years old in 2003? I know when I worked it out it works out to be a yes, but I just wanted to make sure.
~Parseltongue~
Main warnings can be found in prologue. Warning for chapter; Language.
Ghosts of Tomorrow
When Draco and Harry decided to split paths, it was a difficult decision for them both. Both wanted to find Teddy, both wanted to end the scourge that was Voldemort and they both wanted to get through this together...Yet, they also knew the divide was necessary...Nevertheless, Harry could not help hating that he would not be able to help Draco with the rescue.
Voldemort, they discovered upon entering the dark village, had decided to hole himself up in the Manor, with Dementors as guards, while Teddy was being kept in an abandoned house on the northern edge of town, with what was left of the dark lords death eaters. At first, they had thought the boy was also in the manor due to a magical reading that confirmed the young child's presence, but a thorough investigation showed that this was just an illusion (albeit a very good one) and nothing more than a trick to keep them from finding the child.
So Harry let Draco go after his godson, because no matter how much he wished to as well, at the end of the day, Voldemort was his demon to defeat...and this time, the bastard was going to die and remain dead, even if Harry himself had to fall trying...
Therefore, when the raven stepped into the dark hallways of Riddle Manor, he set to work dealing with the security as quickly as possible.
Dementors fell easily before Prongs, the iridescent stag happily charging through the creatures and reducing their numbers within seconds.
The odd death eater was blown away mercilessly, without pause or question, for morals had been set aside for this task, as there would be no second chances this time around.
Spells and wards were negated while Harry set a few of his own just in case...and then he stepped into an empty room where Voldemort's presence hung in the air like a stifling embrace, dark, disturbed and just as tainted as the soul that lingered nearby.
"Did you come for your pet, Harry Potter?" A voice rasped and Harry glanced around until he met Voldemort's dark crimson eyes, the prominent gleam of madness within their bloody depths, simply proving how far the wizard had fallen. He stood in the darkest corner of the room, half his body bathed in shadows and draped in a thick black cloak. "I knew the little half-breed would be the best key to getting you."
"He's my godson." Harry answered calmly as if merely discussing the weather with an old friend and not speaking to a man who had willingly allowed himself to become what he was now. "I've left his safe return in Draco's capable hands while I deal with you."
Voldemort laughed, a soft hissing sound that seemed to force its way past thin lips. "That little Pureblood traitor! I should have let Lucius ssslit his throat when we had the chance." Red eyes bored into his own as the figure turned slightly as if to access him. "You have yet to kill me Potter in your last eleven yearsss of trying...what makess you think tonight will be any different?"
Harry tensed as Voldemort suddenly launched himself forward with an inhuman speed, and in a flash, Gryffindor' sword was in his one hand while a wand occupied the other. Voldemort's clawed hands met the goblin-wrought blade with a resounding clang, followed by the sound of fabric tearing before he jumped away to avoid a jet of red light from the phoenix wand.
"Did you find their bodiesss? Did you sssee what I did to them?" The red-eyed demon taunted as they begun to circle each other, one of his hands moving to pull away the cloak that covered his form.
Harry growled angrily, the image of Andromeda and Percy's remains springing to mind, their magic, life force and entire being having been completely ripped away and only a shell left behind...Far worse than any Dementors kiss. He could still hear George's awful cries, completely shattered at the loss of his last remaining blood relative...
Voldemort smirked, a black tongue coming out to lick his lips.
"They tasssted marvellousss..."
Harry was ready when Voldemort moved, twisting at just the last second to avoid being mauled and getting the perfect opportunity to run his blade through flesh. A shriek filled the air as the red-eyed man pulled away violently, viscous green liquid seeping from the fresh wound in his shoulder.
Harry steadily wiped Gryffindor's sword against his own robes, mind sharp with fury but with still enough sense not to lose himself to his anger. He smirked at Voldemort's curses and lifted the now clean blade so that it was ready for use again.
"Basilisk venom stings, doesn't it..."
"The poison won't kill me!" Voldemort screamed. "I am immortal."
"That's where you're wrong." Harry answered coldly. "You're a shell. A twisted reflection of what you once were. Fractured by your own greed and fear, you have turned yourself into a creature that must feed on everything to survive...You may be immortal, you may be immune to a great deal of things...but if there's one thing I can promise you, it's that you're not invincible and tonight I'm going to destroy you."
Harry moved his wand in a sharp, slashing motion which Voldemort jumped away from only to have the raven man suddenly upon him and ramming the sword into his side with all the force he could muster.
Harry ripped out the blade and hissed low in Parseltongue.
~Even if I have to rip you apart piece by fucking piece! ~
Chapter Two: Adjusting to Drastic Change
January 23rd 2003
George Weasley walked carefully over rotting wood and rubble, dressed in dark clothes and an equally dark robe, his wand drawn and lit with a small blue glow to find his way through the early evening shadows while he disarmed any wards that would alert someone to his presence.
He knew he was not supposed to be here, he knew it would most likely be a waste of his time and he certainly knew Kingsley had taped the area off as unstable...but he had to see it for himself, he had to understand why they were gone.
...Why he was alone.
Percy, the last remaining member of his family, now rested with many others, in the cemetery that stood in place of the Burrow. It was where they had buried Fred after the battle at Hogwarts, when the war had supposedly ended. It was where his only sister Ginny was laid to rest, after being captured by death eaters only several months later and tortured brutally until she gladly welcomed the death they offered.
It was where his older brother Bill now slept, along with his wife Fleur and their two-month old daughter Victoire, after werewolves tore apart Shell Cottage and ravaged the small family.
Charlie and Ron were there too, along with Hermione, Neville, his friend Lee Jordan and several others, all of whom had fallen in the battle to save Gringotts or the second battle that tore through Hogwarts.
George laughed harshly, the sound echoing all around him.
The family home had become a burial ground. Oh how his parents would cry if they had any sense left to care!
After living through the loss of over half their children and extensive spell damage, the strain simply became too much for the old couple to handle, earning them a section in St Mungo's long-term ward, with Frank and Alice Longbottom as neighbors.
His parents were better off. George thought darkly. They did not have to see what the world had become. They did not have to suffer any longer.
George rubbed wearily at his eyes, feeling the bite of exhaustion that constantly clouded his mind's edge. He had not slept in days and he probably would not be able to until he got some type of closure. The remaining Weasley had lost everything; his family, his friends and now he would be alone in their scarred world. The least he could get from this was some measure of understanding.
I need to understand. His mind supplied stubbornly.
Harry, Draco and Teddy had vanished and no one could figure it why. It was a routine rescue mission, but neither the rescuers nor the captive returned, and the most unsettling part after examining the battleground, was no trace of the three could be found, save for the charred carcass of what their world had feared for so long.
...but Harry, Draco and Teddy, it was as though their existence had been wiped from the world's memory.
Stepping over a crumbling door, the redhead froze as the scent of magic washed over him, seemingly fresh and potent, even though no magic had been cast here in over a week. Carefully, he crept forward, realizing that the final front line must be nearer than he thought.
Maybe the excess has not dissipated as much as Minerva thought. George thought, recalling McGonagall's slightly awed retelling of the investigation into Little Hangleton. The Hogwarts Headmistress had described the lingering residue as ever-present. She said it seemed potent despite the fact that no active magic had been cast in hours and that it reacted violently to added amounts of magic.
It was almost as if the magic was responding to itself...a collision of negative and positive charges.
A soft chirp reminded him he was not alone in his search, and out the corner of his eye, he watched Sphinx slowly circle the air above him. It was the black falcon who had roused George from his grief, the bird insistently snapping at him, pulling at his clothes for hours until the redhead finally made the decision to come out here. It was almost as if Sphinx knew something but given the fact that he was an animal, could not explain it to his human companion.
The redhead froze. In front of him, stretched the blackened earth and crater where the end had come. Sinking to his knees, he bit back a choked sob and the emotions he had fought so long to push away, burst through him in a wave of pure agony and rage.
Why did it have to end this way? Had they not sacrificed enough?
"Obviously not..." George muttered bitterly with his eyes tightly shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. He absently noticed that Sphinx had landed on the twisted remnants of Gryffindor's sword (unable to be removed from the cursed ground).
...and then his body stiffened at the alien sensation that suddenly spread through him, warm but sharp, strange but tauntingly familiar. As if such contradicting feelings should even be possible! He pushed aside his warring emotions and opened his eyes slowly.
The air around him glowed green and orange-gold, the odd light warping as it edged closer. The sheer power radiating off the fine mist, had George fighting off nausea. His instincts screamed at him to run, to get away from the anomaly as quickly as possible, but he found he could not move...could not breathe. All he could do was watch as the cloud crept closer and soon surrounded him completely in its mass of crackling energy.
Eyes widened.
He was burning. His skin was melting and he could not breathe, could not even cry from the sharp pain that inched over him like acid. The world was fading away, a warbled cry filled the air and then nothing...nothing but emptiness.
The ruins of Little Hangleton, now stood empty, with no evidence to ever suggest that it had otherwise been occupied. Green and gold mist seeped away, dissipating into the air, merging with the earth, until the magical phenomena too had disappeared leaving just the charred earth of a great darkness and its defeat.
The war of just over two decades, was finally at an end and the price for the peace obtained was steep.
...A price the world unknowingly paid in the loss of four souls.
A young man's pale fingers carded gently through the messy brown locks of hair while a second hand held a cool cloth to the child's skin. A soft sigh had the fingers stopping to rest on the boy's forehead, making sure the last remnants of fever had finally vanished.
Once happy that there was no more danger, the cloth was removed and a thick blanket tucked a little more firmly around the small figure, and then the young man was moving away to go stand by their rooms window.
He breathed a tired sigh and rubbed the back of his neck to ease the ache that had formed. He frowned at his reflection in the glass as grey eyes stared out into the streets beyond.
Waking up to the seventeen year old version of yourself, was definitely something Draco would classify as strange...especially, when in your mind, you knew for a fact you were soon going to be turning twenty-three.
However, being seventeen again was probably the least of his worries. He allowed the past few days to replay in his mind, having had no time to go through all that had occurred and sort out how it made him feel, as Teddy had been the priority after he had fallen ill.
Stress could do that to a child so young. It also did not help that the once six-year-old child now had the body of a two-year old.
However, with his little cousin getting better and resting well, and with Harry currently visiting the local shop for a newspaper, Draco had a moment to sort through his jumbled thoughts.
The first night had been rough…
Draco had perched himself in a corner, tending to his arm while Harry ran a diagnosis spell on their young ward.
"Let's get you cleaned up." The raven whispered softly, to which Teddy just nodded in response, the last few days apparently catching up now that they did not seem to be in any danger.
The small boy yawned and then grimaced painfully.
"Where does it hurt?" Harry asked and Teddy bit his lip. Draco knew he was thinking his answer over carefully, not wanting to worry his godfather too much but not wanting to lie either.
"Teddy?" Harry probed.
"Everywhere..." He eventually whispered, casting his eyes downwards and not wanting to meet the ravens gaze.
Wordlessly and with careful precision, Harry used clean gauze to spread dittany over his godsons bruised and battered skin while Draco watched from the side lines, his face a grim mask of tension and anger. For a long time they sat in absolute silence, which was briefly broken by the arrival of a short female house elf wearing a sunny yellow pillowcase (Tizzy is what you calls me, sirs), who brought them steaming bowls of porridge before wishing them a goodnight and leaving.
Then it seemed as if Teddy could not take it anymore.
"I was so worried you wouldn't find me…" The small boy admitted softly, his blue eyes changing hue to a soft golden brown as his fragile emotions warred with his inner desire to not breakdown.
Draco had frozen while Harry gently pulled his godson into a loose embrace, though no less meaningful.
"We will always find you." The raven murmured. "I'm just so sorry you got hurt in the first place, Ted."
Harry pulled back to brush the boys cheek gently.
"If I could take it back, I would."
Draco offered his cousin a small smile when the child glanced his way.
"Family sticks together through everything." He said quietly.
Teddy's remained quiet for a moment, his eyes shining with tears and the two older men could only wait until their young charge was ready to say more.
"Did you find Nana and Uncle Percy?" Teddy eventually whispered.
Harry and Draco both winced at the question.
Andromeda Tonks had been unrecognizable. Percy's body had been found near the door. They had both obviously died defending Teddy, when Voldemort had forced his way through the wards. Not even the house had been left unscathed from the assault.
"Yeah Ted...We found them." Harry said quietly.
Teddy sniffed softly, snuggling into Harry's arms.
"All of Uncle George's family is now gone."
"There's still us Ted." Draco had whispered, but even he could read the uncertainty in his words, and who could blame him with all the strange events that had occurred recently.
Draco closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against the window, relishing slightly in the feel of the cool glass against his skin.
…When Teddy finally allowed himself to fall asleep, they ventured into a discussion that still left the blond shivering.
Harry stroked Teddy's blond hair once more before he turned and made his way over to the other side of the room, where Draco stood by the window gazing out of it blankly.
"You going to tell me what happened back there?"
Draco shrugged dispassionately, having no need to show any emotions now that Teddy was resting.
"What's there to tell?"
Harry barked a soft laugh.
"Don't even go there Draco, in fact, I wouldn't even try if I was you. I know you better than anyone and there's no way you're leaving this conversation without telling me what happened to make you freeze?" Harry paused and then spoke in a much gentler tone. "You never freeze."
Draco let out a soft sigh and rubbed his face wearily with his uninjured hand, the other wrapped in white gauze.
"I-I thought…" He began only to break off biting his lip worriedly and glancing over at Teddy's sleeping form.
Harry frowned, obviously confused but wanting to understand.
"What? You thought what?"
Draco's silver eyes met Harry's and the blonde knew his emotions were warring turbulently within; the anger, fear, hatred and above all, the absolute disbelief.
"It was him, Harry…It was my father under that mask."
"That's impossible-"
"I know what I saw!" Draco snapped only to bite down on his lip and glance away guiltily when Teddy moved. He collapsed onto the second bed while Harry put up a silencing charm.
"You sure..." Harry asked as he joined him on the bed.
"I don't want to be sure." Draco had whispered in reply. "He can't be alive. I made certain."
"Then we'll find an explanation." Harry had declared firmly and the blond knew his raven friend meant it.
Draco growled softly under his breath and tapped the glass window softly, emotions swirling around chaotically.
Of course, he did not want it to be true, but that did not change what he had seen. He'd watched the blood flow from Lucius Malfoy's torn throat...Had made sure that the last vestiges of life had left those mocking grey eyes...He had wanted to be certain that he had avenged his mother, and make certain is what he did.
Lucius Malfoy, cold-hearted, cruel and definitely not as dead as Draco remembered him to be...and yet, nothing about all this made sense.
There were also other bizarre details they had to factor in.
"Is it just me Draco, or do we look seventeen again?" Harry had asked after a few hesitant starts at conversation. "I mean, I'm not the only one seeing this right?"
"I did wonder when I noticed your lack of height had made a return."
Harry hissed, green eyes flashing.
~Don't make me bite you! ~
Draco snorted at the use of Parseltongue, a skill they had painstakingly learned even though it was said to be almost impossible for people who had not inherited the ability.
"You bite me and I'll bite you back."
The two shared a small smile but it was strained, then Harry let out a soft sigh.
"So, what do you think caused the de-aging?"
Draco shrugged at the question, having thought over the topic many times in the last few minutes since they had discovered the change.
"Could have been a number of things; that magical backlash...the strain of our magic mixing. I can't be certain."
Harry had rubbed his eyes wearily. "Just another day in the life of us."
Draco glanced at the window behind them, discovering that the sun was now fully raised and knowing he would crash soon. They had been awake for almost two days and after all the physical, mental and magical exertion both had experienced, Draco knew they needed rest.
"Let's get some sleep. We can talk more later on."
...but they did not get the chance. The next day, Teddy got sick.
"His fever just keeps rising." Draco called with his hand resting on Teddy's sweaty forehead.
"So what do we have with us?" Harry questioned aloud from where he was filling a basin with water that the house elf Tizzy had kindly brought them. "Any healing potions?"
"Aside from the normal emergency kit?" Draco questioned in reply before giving a slight, one-armed shrug. "Nothing for a fever."
By emergency kit, Draco meant a special shrunken trunk that contained a few precious items and essentials in case they ever needed it; like basic healing potions, a spare knife and change of clothes or their specialized notebook which they never went anywhere without. It was a necessity given the darker times they had been forced to live through...or as Ron had used to say.
'Be prepared for the worst to happen, anytime, anywhere.'
Harry handed him the basin and a cloth then pulled open his mokeskin pouch with its undetectable extension charm (made popular by Hermione), summoning the trunk from within and placing it carefully upon the bed.
"…money, Notebook, potions, potion ingredients, portkey…" The raven listed as each item went to join others. Soon he had the whole trunk empty and was wearing a noticeable frown.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked quietly, though remained by Teddy's side, gently dabbing the child's face with the cool rag.
"It seems our wands aren't the only things that are missing…My dad's cloak and the map, are also gone."
Draco eyed the heap speculatively, silently cataloging everything he had recalled being placed in there.
"The other two Hallows are missing as well…"
Harry groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose irritably and Draco cursed.
No wands, the Hallows were missing and they didn't know what exactly had been caused by the magical storm...
They really did not need trouble in this form, on top of their de-aged appearances, the supposed resurrection of death eaters and this strange world they had seemingly found themselves in…Why couldn't life ever be normal for just once.
He snorted softly.
When was life ever normal for the great Harry Potter, defeater of one with too many names and built in human magnet for trouble, danger and general mayhem…No, abnormal was Harry's normal.
Draco supposed that after consciously making the decision to study with Harry and become brothers, he should have got used to it by now.
"One step at a time..." Harry murmured as he repacked the trunk. "Let's get Teddy better and then we can tack a step back and figure this shit out."
George stared up at the sky with a narrowed expression and muscled arms crossed over his chest, still in the field he had woken in and trying to make sense of some things that were out of place.
He wasn't where he had been...which meant he was no longer standing on the ruins of Riddle Manor.
Perched on a tree stump nearby, Sphinx clicked his beak, an impatient sound that made the redhead think the bird was irritated with him.
Knowing the falcon, he probably was.
"Hush up Sphinx, I'm thinking." George hissed when the bird repeated his previous action. He then rubbed his temples tiredly, already feeling the headache that was building.
My wand is missing. He thought. I'm shorter than I remember being...and I...
"I have a fucking ear again!" George shouted, rounding on the falcon and pointing at said appendage. "You can see that right. It's not just my imagination because I would really love to know what the hell I took to hallucinate something like this!"
The ear could not be there. Was not supposed to be there...Why the fuck did he have an ear when he knew Snape had sliced it off?
George groaned and contemplated pinching himself. This had to be some kind of twisted dream. Sphinx let out a shriek that had George turning to him balefully.
"What do you want? Can you not see I'm trying to fall to pieces?"
The falcon seemed to puff up and he clicked his beak a few times, before outstretching one of his yellowed talons, dark eyes glittering with intelligence.
George stared at the bird perplexedly, not quite understanding what it wanted from him. After all, it was Draco's bird and the blond had been the only one who could apparently understand what it wanted. Sphinx let out another shriek and flapped his wings, his clawed appendage still suspended before him.
"You want me to deliver a letter..." George stated after a moment, testing his theory aloud just to be sure it did not sound as stupid as it had when he thought of it. Alas, it still sounded ridiculous, but Sphinx appeared to perk up at the word 'Letter.'
George quirked an eyebrow.
"You can't be serious." He asked. "Who would I send one to? The family and friends I no longer have?"
The falcon just continued to watch him with his foot held out steadily.
George contemplated just ignoring it, but he knew the bird would not leave him alone until it got what it wanted. He had experienced enough of its violent temper in the past, to know how it would behave if he chose to disregard it.
"Alright, I'll write a bloody letter..." He huffed after the bird let out a series of agitated squawks.
So, feeling like a right idiot, the redhead dug around in his dragon hide jacket for a notebook that he knew would be there along with a small muggle pencil (after all, you never knew when a bout of creativity may hit you), then thought about what kind of letter to write just so he could satisfy Sphinx.
After a moment, he scrawled a few words, rolled it up and using a bit of thread from his cloak, he tied it to the falcon's offered leg. Shaking his head, he watched the bird take off into the skies and fly away.
"Bloody bird has issues..." He muttered while watching the creature become more of a blur the further it got. Sighing, George pocketed his notebook and prepared to get back to his shop in Diagon Alley. It would be difficult and take much longer considering he had lost his wand but maybe then; everything would feel more normal...
Although that still did not explain why he had a blasted ear again.
When Harry finally returned from his trip into the village, Teddy's fever was almost completely gone and the boy was happily sitting on the floor playing with a pack of muggle cards that the barkeep, Victor, had brought up earlier after the boy had mentioned being bored when they went below for breakfast.
"You should take a look at this."
Draco looked up at the newspaper being presented and after taking it, met the ravens eyes questioningly.
"Just read it and tell me what you think." Harry said, his expression troubled as he turned and went to sit by his godson.
Draco opened up the paper and blinked as he read the front page.
The Daily Vision, huh? Was it a new paper?
He looked past the title to the main article below and then the paper slipped from his fingers, falling to the floor with a thud.
Teddy looked up, startled from his game and Harry sighed softly.
"Tell me that's some kind of joke?"
Harry shrugged.
"I don't know for sure. I asked around, discreetly of course, and it seems pretty genuine."
Draco bent down and picked up the fallen newspaper, turning back to the front while Harry assured Teddy that everything was fine.
The blond smoothed out the creases and began to read.
'Albus Dumbledore gives heart-warming speech while in attendance to the Silver Cross Memorial' s one year anniversary, in remembrance to the several children murdered by death eaters.'
The picture of said man took up most of the page, wearing his familiar half-moon glasses and an absurdly pointed hat that appeared to be decorated in some kind of winged creature.
'Albus had only warm, heart-felt words and strong encouragement for the mourning families who lost loved ones last year June in one of the greatest tragedies to befall...'
Draco skimmed the rest of the contents, making mental notes of facts he considered odd, before then searching out who had written the article. The name Abigail Prewett was unfamiliar, but the blond was simply glad it had not been Rita Skeeter.
A sudden trill had them whirling around, ready to cast a spell if necessary until Teddy's delighted voice rang through the air around them.
"Look, it's Sphinx. He found us!"
Draco looked to the window and with an oddly relieved pang, realized Teddy was right. His black familiar was perched upon the windowsill, looking rather proud of himself and very much alive.
Harry moved to open the window and when the bird flew inside; it landed directly on Draco's shoulder and extended his foot.
"What you got boy?" Draco asked curiously. After a silent glance at Harry (who shrugged), he removed the small piece of paper and unrolled it. Draco felt his jaw drop as he read.
"What?" Harry asked moving up to look over the blonde's shoulder. Meanwhile, Teddy coaxed Sphinx over to a small bowl of water that he had just fetched from the bathroom.
Harry read the letter and like his companion, felt his own jaw part.
To Whom It May Concern, I George Weasley have lost my mind. Why you may ask; well I will let you know that this morning I awoke with one ear missing and now it has returned...What would you call that?
If anyone is reading this letter, then the blasted, overgrown pigeon who brought it to you will probably expect a reply.
I would suggest doing so, if only to save yourself from its sharp talons that will surely meet your flesh if you choose to ignore him.
Draco snapped out of his reverie and glanced over at Sphinx.
"George wrote this?"
The bird clicked his beak once.
"Does he really have both ears?"
Another click.
Draco then looked at Harry who was frowning at the letter.
"Are we going to write back?"
The raven nodded absently.
"Yeah...I think it's time we solve this mystery. I'm starting to hate this confused sensation I have constantly warring with my rational thoughts."
Draco snorted.
"You and me both."
The fireplace glowed emerald green and a figure exited gracefully, his midnight blue robes shining in the dim candlelit office.
He received a warm greeting from the portraits who were still awake and a soft chirrup from the massive red and gold phoenix who perched behind the large oak desk. Sighing, he wandlessly summoned a bottle of firewhiskey from its hiding place on his bookshelf and gave a mumbled greeting in reply.
Albus Dumbledore took seat in his chair and nursed the glass he had poured for himself, blue eyes lacking their usual shine.
"These are sad times we live in Fawkes..." He murmured softly. "The old survive and the young perish...I want to hope that today will be the last memorial I ever have to attend, but I think we both know Fate is not that kind."
The phoenix sang gently to offer his aged companion some small measure of comfort and it appeared to help, for he smiled slightly.
"Do not worry for me...I have not given up and I don't intend to any time soon." The smile faded and Albus sighed, placing the now empty glass on his desk.
No, he had not given up...but that did not mean it hurt any less.
A/N -Extra Info:
This is late because my hard drive crashed and I lost all the work I had done...So what you see was written from scratch and a few memories...I'm still not happy with it but figured you deserved something. (Will edit it and improve).
George was a last minute decision, but I hope you all like that he has gone to the alternate world. The pace will be picking up speed after chapter three and first meetings will begin taking place then.
Review and let me know what you think, and if there's anything I can improve on.