... and as the story was supposed to start something different. If I'm honest, I'm glad that I did without the clutter and written especially nice is not it either. But it was the first thing I did (with the exception of the antepenultimate chapter, in a form in which it will probably never happen, and the scene with James and Sirius on the roof).
So. The first prologue, which did not make it.
~ * ~
The first of October 1977 was a surprisingly sunny day in the been so rainy Indian summer and early fall have been, both in London and in the small southern Italian town of Lenola.
At 9:15 - a quarter of an hour too late - squeezed Sirius Black, the slightly out of breath and sweaty hair out of face painting crowded elevator in the Ministry, who then down in movement began.
five minutes earlier had Emerald Lennox a long look out the window, the view of cypress hill can wander and enjoy a moment with closed eyes the sun on his cheeks.
Now he closed the heavy curtains and walked over to the door. With a quiet click the key turned in the lock. Emerald turned and walked over to the chair in the middle of the room. At 9:20
held the elevator.
"Third floor - Aurorenzentrale ," snarled the magical voice and Sirius pushed his way out. Unusually for his hectic
Conditions he stroked the silky black strands of hair from her face and looked around, disoriented. No sign was seen. So he shrugged and turned at random to the right until he heard a voice behind him: "Hey, Pad
the same time, Emerald ran his thumb ΓΌ , over a photograph that he had probably learned from his jacket pocket. He was seen on his arm a strict-looking blond woman in an elegant dress. A tall, blond boy, who was perhaps early twenties, stood beside her and grinned broadly at the camera. Before the three of them sat two girls, one small and blond and cheerful waving, the other dark-haired as well as Emerald, arrogant eighteen years, and perhaps with a glance. The arrogance they had of him.
A tear trembled in Emeralds lashes before he stuck the photo back
He heard footsteps outside the door, light steps.
Then a female voice. "Emerald? Emerald? Are you in there? "
He closed his eyes and clenched fists. He had to stop that want them to come.
They rattled the door, tried it with a Alohomora , when then did nothing. Even that did not work. course not, he thought, with almost perverse triumph. I'm not for nothing one of the best. Not for nothing that they want me.
He continued on his way to the chair, climbed on the seat. The wood shook
questionable steps again, a knock on the door. "Dad?"
The panicky undertone was not to be missed. "Dad? You are here! They have come back! You have to come out, please ... we need to get out of here! "
Why? Why did they come now, of all places? Why fate had played him the damn trick?
The knocking grew louder, until it finally sounded as if drumming his fists on the door. "Dad! Open the door! "
The rope was strong and tough and would not crack. The bar was big and strong and would not break. It would go fast. He had thought of everything. A little smile he had of himself, his penchant for drama Muggles and methods. A simple drink would not be enough, not for him. Then it was
loud at the door (...)
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