A/N: This is a prologue I've created to fix the 'the-first-6-chapters-don't-grab-the-reader' problem. I was going to wait until the story was done, but I've realized that writing this first will keep me on the correct path, keep me writing through the end, and inspire me to write chapter 23. Thus, enjoy the sneak-peak.
Prologue: Out From the Night
The dark outline of the castle was strange against a twilight sky; no lights lit the many narrow windows that peppered the walls. He imagined that the large pile of stones had only been this deserted when it was originally built, and he felt an uncomfortable connection to that age past.
Now, as he rested against a tree near the vacated hut of the groundskeeper, he looked out towards the desolate, dark view, and sighed.
This place was no longer home. It had been vacated during the height of war—abandoned as the war grew to unthinkable proportions; grew to include the masses of the world, to include the world of life in its entirety.
Everyone had run, been separated, or died, that day. Harry shivered as he remembered the screaming, the howl of the wind; the darkness.
Nothing he could ever do would rectify the crime he had committed; what he thought necessary back then became wholly inadequate reasoning as time went on.
Time. It seemed to stretch before him now. Only a few days ago, time had been the quick breath between one moment and the next. Time had been the short circuits of thought as they sparked in his brain. Time had been the one thing he had never considered in his headlong rush. Now, time weighed upon his shoulders, forcing him to realize that he was alive. War was said to teach mortality; but Harry felt immortal, alone.
Time stretched before him and its weight grew heavier. The mistakes he had made, the decisions—the crimes suddenly had much more meaning, now that he had been left alive. But after all that had come to pass, he knew those burdens; was familiar with them in such an intimate way he ceased to agonize over them. It was his responsibility, his justice, to carry his own burdens. And he would. But the guilt, shame, loneliness, and pain would not consume him. He was able to accept, but not to concede.
He was alive. And, selfish as it was, he yearned to enjoy such vitality.
He looked up at the castle, black against a dark-blue sky, and searched for any sign of life.
Though he saw nothing, he knew there was only one soul, one fire burning in the castle before him, and he began to take slow, measured steps forwards. Towards that other soul, towards tomorrow, towards what little he had left.
He would not falter, not here and not now. There had been too much pain in order to arrive at this place, this spot in time. He did not take those sacrifices lightly.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, he opened the door and went inside.
A/N: please review! :)