Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ My Other Half ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Disclaimer:I have not and never will claim ownership of Sailor Moon or Harry Potter. Sailor Moon and all its elements and characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi and any other intermediate parties. Harry Potter and all its elements and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and any other intermediate parties.

My Other Half

Prologue

By Jacque Nicole

A lone figure stood impatiently in front of an old abandoned building at the corner where two streets intersected. The navy robed figure seemed to be constantly switching the foot on which he stood, anxiously awaiting his companion's arrival. He gazed up and down each street, feeling his patience slipping away from his grasp, but he held it tightly; today was a day for the entire world to celebrate.

Suddenly, with a loud crack and an abrupt flash of light, the Knight Bus appeared before the man. The door slid open and the sounds of festivity filled the air. Another figure, clad in a violet cloak, ran off the bus. She embraced the man with all her might and he returned the gesture.

She took a step back, vaguely remembering when the bus left to drop off another passenger. "So?"

The man looked at her and teasingly implored, "So, what?"

She hit him on the shoulder. "Is it true?" He still stared at her, humor in his eyes. Sighing in frustration, she continued, "Is You-Know-Who really gone?"

The man smiled. "As a matter of fact, yes. Today marks the day of He-Who-Shall-Not- Be-Named's downfall! Today, we celebrate." He gently brushed his lips against hers suggestively.

The woman gently pushed him away. Looking her crony in the eye she asked, "And what of the boy?"

He sighed. "It is rumored that he will stay with the only family he has left."

"Shane, do you mean he is to stay with… with…” She could barely get the word to pass her lips. “Muggles?" she finally spat.

Shane nodded sadly.

"This is an outrage!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration. “What the hell is Dumbledore thinking?"

"Think about it, Contessa," said Shane. "If he gives the boy to anyone else, he will be showered in popularity and special treatment."

"As he should be! He saved what's left of our world!"

Sadly, the man shook his head. "No,” he said. “He is too young."

The woman covered her lightly freckled face in distress. `This is a disaster,' she thought to herself. `The savior of the wizarding world damned to the life of a muggle. He has no hope.' Suddenly, her head snapped up, turquoise eyes searching her partner's own green ones. "But Shane,” she whispered, “What about the girl? Is she to live among the muggles as well?”

Shane sighed deeply, knowing this question was coming. "That, my dear,” he told her, “Is still a mystery. We were unable to find her. We think that maybe she…" He slowly swiped his finger across his neck.

Contessa solemnly nodded her head. "I understand. I wish her and the boy luck. May God bless the boy and girl who lived."

XOXOXOXOX

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said an elderly man to a rather severe-looking woman. McGonagall nodded to Dumbledore before blowing her nose.

Dumbledore walked down the street, and with one click of his Put-Outer, all twelve street lamps along Privet Drive regained their fluorescence. As he turned around, he could just make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the end of the road. He could barely see the bundle of blankets on the steps of Number Four.

"Good luck, Harry," he whispered, and with the swish of his cloak, he was gone.

XOXOXOXOX

He sped through the forest, not yet quite certain of his destination. At times—times like these—he felt too confined in the small space provided by the tiny cottage he lived in with his wife and their son.

People of his race were never meant to live in small, confined spaces, after all.

As his pace reached inhuman speeds, he began to fall deep into thought.

Today marked the downfall of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Being what he was, he should probably consider going into hiding. Others like him might begin to search for him if he did not join them to assist the fallen lord.

They'd definitely become suspicious when he'd refuse to help them.

So he decided, then and there, that he would take his family and move them to a more secure place, just to be on the safe side.

Suddenly, his nostrils flared as a faint scent permeated the air. He quickly changed his direction, following the intoxicating smell as the familiar feeling of bloodlust overtook his senses. In no time, he found himself very near his prey, his incisors lengthening in his mouth in anticipation for the feed.

The doe had no chance.

Noiselessly, he pounced on the creature, his elongated teeth sinking deeply into its neck. The deer bucked a little, but he held it steadfast, the animal locked on his jaw like a baby on a bottle. He drank deeply, the blood of the doe fully clearing the hazy bloodlust from his mind.

Suddenly, he snapped his head up, the creature still clutched in his arms. He focused on his superhuman hearing. `Hmm,' he thought to himself. `I could have sworn I heard—' Then he heard it again. It was very faint, but it was definitely there.

A baby was crying somewhere in the distance.

Carefully, he set the doe on its feet and let the slightly wounded creature run free before instinctively running in the direction of the noise.

In seconds, he came to a small clearing at the edge of the forest near the muggle village, and in the middle of it was a baby—whom he presumed was a girl, judging from the pink blankets in which she was wrapped. She was obviously freezing to death, the blue hue of her skin and the constant shiver of her body tell tale signs of hypothermia. Immediately he was at her side, using friction from the blanket to get her warmer, knowing that his almost nonexistent body warmth wouldn't help her in the least.

 

As he rubbed the pink blankets up and down her bare body—he knew now that she definitely was a female—a small sheet of paper fell out of its folds. His arm snatched it out of the wind—like a frog catching a fly—before it blew away.

 

In the dim moonlight, he could just make out the words the messy scrawl spelled out.

 

Care for her.

 

He crumpled the paper and tucked it into the pocket of his slacks. Whoever left this child here had obviously expected one of the muggles from the village to find her and raise her. `They obviously didn't know how stupid and oblivious muggles could be,' he thought to himself. If he had never found her, she would have surely died.

 

He looked down at the crying infant and felt himself getting angry. `Who could leave something as precious as a child alone like this?' He rubbed her slightly faster.

 

Suddenly, her cries died down. Worried that something was wrong with her, he looked down at her, only to find her looking up, directly at him.

 

They made eye contact. Before he could stop himself, he found himself giving her a wide smile. He must have been quite a frightening sight with his slightly bloodstained teeth, fangs, pale skin, and glowing eyes, but one wouldn't have been able to tell it from the way she was smiling back at him.

 

She seemed so peaceful and happy, now that she wasn't crying anymore. He decided for a name for her at that moment—something that would forever be a reminder to him of the day that he'd found her.

 

Serenity.

 

As he ran toward his cottage deep within the forest, Serenity clutched gently in his embrace, he wondered to himself how he would explain this addition to their family to his wife.

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

…End Prologue…

 

Number of Words: 1,294

 

Posted: August 19, 2006

Edited: February 26, 2007