The Veil Of Time

Prologue: Betrayed.

The soft, sharp sound chains clinking against the ground drew the attention of everyone in the room. Cold, hate filled gazes lanced through the air to land on the rag-wearing form of one man, being led down the steps, past everyone, two Aurors holding him at wand point.

The ragged man gave as good as he got, glaring proudly at the ones responsible for his incarceration, as he was led to his death.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, and his eyes softened as they landed on warm, tear-filled cinnamon-brown ones. He did not stop walking, only murmuring out of the corner of his mouth as he passed.

"I'm sorry."

The Aurors led him to the middle of the floor, where an arch stood, a veil flapping in the non-existent breeze.

Cold eyes sneered down on him, and a voice full of malice rang out, "Harry Potter! You have been charged with the murders of several prominent members of the Ministry of Magic. You are a terrorist, of the worst sort. May you never find peace."

Another man stepped forward, his wand drawn and pointed at Harry Potter. The Minister's voice boomed again. "Ronald Weasley. You have been given permission to execute the prisoner, as your family suffered prominently of the terrorist's wrath. Proceed."

Ron's lip was curled in derision. He approached Harry, his eyes speaking volumes of his satisfaction. He leaned forward, his breath blowing in Harry's ear. "She will never be yours, Harry. And she will never know how much you love her."

Green eyes, closed in preparation for death, snapped open.

In a single moment, everything became chaos.

Harry's knee snapped up, burying itself into Ron's gut, bending him over. His hand grabbed Ron's, forcing his wand tip up and away from his heart, simultaneously spinning him around and wrapping the chains binding his wrists around the Weasleys' throat.

Ron scrabbled at the chains like a rat, gasping out, "Let me go!" Aurors surround them, backing Harry so that he was almost walking into the veil.

"You've nowhere to go, Potter!"

Harry's cold green eyes flickered between every Auror and Ron's triumphant face. A smirk lit up his own; and he jerked the chains in his hands sharply to the left.


Pulling the wand from Ron's lifeless fingers, he tapped his bonds, transfiguring them into water. Harry pointed the wand at shocked Aurors as they snapped back to attention.

The Minister rose from his seat, slamming his hands down on the table. "You will not escape, Potter! This is where you die!"

Harry shook his head. "This was never about escaping, Minister. This was about choice. There is always a choice."

"There is NO choice! You will surrender and die!" The Minister thundered.

Harry turned his cool gaze on him, voice thundering through the atrium. "THERE IS ALWAYS A CHOICE!" His eyes dropped to a brown haired woman, who clutched her chest as tears rolled down her cheeks. "And I made the wrong one with you, Hermione. I love you."

He brought the wand up between his two hands, grasping both ends. In one smooth motion, he snapped the wand in half, and darted towards the veil.

Hermione screamed through her tears, "HARRY!"

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, terrorist and murder, disappeared behind the curtain.

The veil shifted slightly, and then settled back into place, as if never disturbed.


"Where's the cannon?"

You have got to be kidding me.

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