Author's Note: This is a poem, which is my intro into a storyline I hope may be of interest. I admit plainly, I've never written any Harry Potter fan fiction, because quite frankly I feel the stories are perfect and I wouldn't change a thing, as well as I have the utmost respect for JK Rowling's writing ability. My hope is that as this is entirely fabricated, it will honor her writing and world, without marring any of the original magnificence of the Harry Potter series.

I GENUINELY want your opinion as to whether you enjoy this idea as a potential plot and whether you'd like it to continue. Please review and let me know your comments and suggestions. Keep reading, keep writing and paint your imagination every color you can find. -Nie

Into the night walked the turbulent beast.

Steam rose from its snout, its coat glistened with heat

Sinew hid shadow, light danced on its back

When steam turned to flame, how my courage sank

I performed like Aesopus. I made pretense at steel

Playing deep within my part, as though I could kill with zeal

My terror was inequal. My faith incomplete.

The beast winnowed and bellowed, and I felt my nerve flee

Before courage escaped for ease and for home

I danced all around the beast, emphasizing it was alone

I moved to the left, I spun a pirouette

Then leapt to the right, trying to confuse it

My hypnotic movements put the beast at ease

My moment had arrived, and I ran to enact my deceit

I snuck a hand out, I grasped one harp string
When I plucked it away, oh how the devil screamed

I vaulted a bush, I dropped down a wall
I ran in black terror of its every hoof fall

I dived beneath a bridge, I hid in a river
Let the water wash me away, as I waded and shivered

The night kept me secret, the light set me free
I made my way home clasping my trophy

I climbed in my window, and there in my chair

Sat Dendron Ollivander, completely unaware

He turned when I cursed, and held his hand out in haste

"Do you have it?" he asked. "Time's not a thing I waste."

He smiled as he took it, a phantom danced in his eyes

Then his face went cold, his hand closed like a vice

"Tell no one you got it." "I'm not a git." I replied.

He answered, "Of that, I'm still trying to decide."

Then he spun to my window, climbed out and flew off

I found no trace of him, as I turned my window lock

It was two decades later long past our Hogwarts years
I heard from Xavier Who spoke low with fear

"ave ye 'eard bout Dendron?" I shook my head to say no

He looked left and right, then spoke very slow.

"Den's gone and done the thing 'e 'as forbid ter do

Stole a Testr'l tail string an 'e's made 'n Elder Wand, too."

I felt guilt gnaw my belly, and dared ask if he was aware
how Dendron had got a tail string but Xavier didn't seem to care.

"Its the wand that's the danger, boy, been talk from far'way lands
Some'ere's been made a new stone, an tis still Potter's cloak with his lass."

I said, "Xave, its not like it was, the days of Death Eaters are gone."
He replied, "Evil's a menace, an will always find a way to live on.

So I write this to you, my love, I've only one thing I can do
I've gone after Dendron, In hopes I can find him and get through.

Please contact young Molly Potter, and the Weasleys as well

You may want to contact the ministry This outcome I can't foretell.

I hope this won't end like Gellert and Dumbledore
But if it must know I love you, but fear the return of Voldemort.

-Malum Rosier, a poem for his wife Sybilla received just after his death, before the second battle of the Black Lake