Authors Note: Yes, I am alive. I finally just gave up on expecting alerts so I changed my email and now my alerts are working again. waves victory flag Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me. I hope you like this story as much as you liked the last. I did leave you all on a cliffy after all …

The Prophecy of the Forgotten

Chapter 1

Remorse

The skies were bright, a blanket of serenity draping itself around the peaks of the castle, bleak and dark against the setting sun. The whole image held a feeling of numbness. The simplicity of the human mind unable to comprehend what happened, what had ended, what was finally over. This war had lasted so long; the body was still going through the motions, the paranoia … the fear. Even with the physical evidence, lying burning in front of them, they still felt that darkness creeping into their minds, eating away at all the goodness of life, the joy of their times.

Even she still sat there, but maybe she was there for the wrong reason. She was barely aware of Darrow, lifting his body out of her arms, his still cold body – newly acquainted with Death, she wasn't aware of the strong arms leading her to her feet.

Her own unsteady trembling hands still tainted with his blood, clutching the blanket's edge that found its way around her shoulders. She could see him now, lying limp on the stretcher, Demon medics working desperately to stop the blood that slid down pail fingers … magic fingers. He was moaning, the only indication that he was in pain, keeping him away from the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

She wanted to scream at them, tell them to stop hurting him; he had been through enough pain.

Her shoulders heaved in dry sobs.

Tears threatened to spill over as she stumbled after the stretcher … her best friend … his only friend, "I'm so sorry," she couldn't save him. She should have been able to, but she couldn't save him, "I'm sorry."

…….

She found him staring at his enemy's lifeless body, emerald eyes bright with an unidentifiable emotion, an almost puzzled frown gracing his lips. Not a few feet behind him his best friend stood, not speaking either, eyes traveling over dead enemies … dead comrades.

"It's hard to believe it's over isn't it?"

"Six years of fighting and it's over in one night."

Harry still hadn't said anything, but slowly … very slowly, he bent down, reaching out towards the burning body, slipping his hand through a gap in the flames, his trembling fingers found its way around slender, dark wood. The murderous weapon pried out of cold, dead fingers. Straightening, Harry held the wand limply in his hand, starting at it. Then as if horrified he snapped it in half and chucked it back into the flames, watching – fascinated – as they flashed a rainbow of colors.

"It's goin' ta be hard ter let it go, i'n't it, 'arry?" a large warm hand was placed on his trembling shoulders, Hagrid's gruff voice breaking through the heavy silence, "'arry?"

"No … I don't think it will be hard at all."

………

He was afraid – afraid for his life. His father laid bleeding before him; the demon blade having cut through his shield and ripping the life out of the already heartless body.

"You … are a traitor … Draco,"

He watched through blurred, angry eyes as the blood pooled around his blonde hair, the cane he used against his own son, broken at this side.

Draco smiled, "no father – you are."

………

She cried. Desperate sobs, wracking her body as she gasped for breathe between each pathetic heave of her shoulders. Gentle hands pressed a cup to her lips, the bitter liquid slipping down her throat – calming her immediately.

"Would you like to stay with him, dear?" the kindly old nurse smiled sadly and didn't bother to wait for an answer as a cup of warm tea was shoved into her shaky hands.

Lea just sat there, eyes wide with horror and border line morbid fascination as the tunic was ripped from his chest baring scarred, tortured flesh. She was almost pleased to see Poppy flinch at the thin quite lines, raised welts on pale, cool skin. She held his hand as he moaned in pain, "you can't leave me again," she sounded deadly calm as she slipped into her own language, her tone barely above a murmur, "I never told you how much I missed you when you left the first time. I cried myself to sleep for almost a month after.

"I thought I'd never see you again. We were only six when we first met, but even then I let you take my hand and sweep me off my feet, even back when we were young you were protecting me, I think that's when I first realized how much I cared for you …"

………

It was only dawn when the stewardess called for them. Technically, the Prince shouldn't have been going with them, but they were a trio, where one went the others followed – like a never ending game of Following the Leader. The team was just the three of them: Ash, Lea and Darrow – the Golden Trio – Elemental, Wind and Bird, an interesting group to say the least.

Their mission was simple – a Water Demon carrying a copy of the Scroll of the Nine Spells was needed to be recovered. The scroll was easy enough, he was inept to say the least, and through it at them, and then he blew himself (and three houses) up., intending to take the prince with him; he almost did. Even as they went flying through the debris-ridden air he kept his arms securely around her and even as they landed – the walls (or what was left of them) crashing into his back., he kept her head tucked under his chin and even as he went limp in unconsciousness he still kept his body on top of hers, shielding her from falling murderous wood and metal.

………

"I kept screaming your name, just to hear you say you were alright, but you never said. I couldn't face you for a weak after that, afraid that I would fall into a pathetic heap of tears and you would be my crutch again. Of course, you finally found me, pale and limping, but smiling and then you said how glad you were that I was alright and I fell down into that sputtering sobbing heap and we sort of used each other as a crutch …

"That was when we were 13, Ash, goddammit, then you just upped and left three years later, what was I supposed to do? Darrow hated you for a long time after that, you know, I suppose it's because he didn't know the reasons behind you leaving us like that. I still don't know if he's ever forgiven you …"

………

She kept watching him. Her voice had trailed off and she was content to stare at his pale lips, wishing they would move and speak to her again. It took hours … she lost count of how many and she didn't care. And he only screamed once, when Poppy found a piece of metal stuck in his open wound, she pulled it out and he screamed. Not long or loud – just a sharp grunt of pain that escaped his throat like a yelping wounded cat.

When the nurse was finally finished she pulled the curtain around his bed and left them. Lea knew that even years later she wouldn't forget how he looked then. White bandages wrapped around his abdomen and shoulder – almost invisible against the paleness of his skin, his chest rising and falling heavily as if every breath was painful to take. His jaw clenched and unclenched in time with his fists as the searing throb of pain threatened to consume him. She entwined her hand in his limp fist, letting her magic flow into him. He instantly calmed every muscle in his body finally going limp in relief.

She laughed softly, a desperate, hysterical chortle that left her with tears running down her cheeks again. Hands trembling as she brushed dark bangs out of his face, "I'm sorry, Ash, I know that's no consolation for what happened to you, and I know you don't want my pity, but I am sorry. And no matter how you feel, that won't change.

TBC