A Labyrinth of Dreams

Prologue – Break the World

1997.

It was meant to be just another normal year, filled with the usual sorrows and festivities. The Weasleys had planned a wedding.

But it didn’t matter what it was meant to be, all that matters is that it never took place. Because 1997 was the year Voldemort rose to power.

1997 was the year when countless of Muggle-borns across the globe died of a mysterious plague.  1997 was the year when Death Eaters revealed themselves, and brandished their Dark Marks proudly. It was the year anyone who opposed the rise of darkness was hunted down and killed, a victim of gruesome violence and hatred. 1997 was a year of blood and destruction, death and pestilence. No one was safe, nothing was secret and fear was prevalent. Fear and anger.

Thousands of children were orphaned. Families were torn apart, countries were desecrated. Millions of lives were lost, both Muggle and Magical.

The earth ran red with innocent and guilty blood alike, the forests were kept watered by tears of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters who lost loved ones. The sky was dark and the sun was forced below the horizon. Fires raged unkempt through the cities, dust and debris lined the streets. The only music was the sound of wailing; the only solace was hope for tomorrow. And tomorrow took a long time in coming.

Some said the Apocalypse had come and God had cast forth his judgment. The mortal world would be placed in the forge of hell, a land of fire and brimstone. The Death Eaters played their parts as the Doomsday angels come heralding, their Dark Lord as their Satan.

But that couldn’t be true. After all, how could one lone boy avert the apocalypse? Unless he sold his soul…?

Because 1997 was also the year Voldemort was finally defeated, his iron grip broken by a teenage boy, defiant to the last.

The seas of blood and tears receded, to uncover the earth, mutilated, spoilt, but not yet broken. The sun returned and the sky became blue again, slivers of light spilling down onto the land, where darkness had ruled momentarily. The corpses were buried and in their places were planted a sunflower, to symbolize peace and hope for the coming years.

The Boy Who Lived became the hero who salvaged what was left of the world. Harry Potter was once more a household name, uttered with reverence and gratitude.

But the year didn’t end there. Oh no. It only became much more complicated.

Voldemort cursed the world twice more before he died, two curses beyond reversing. What he set in motion was later given a name.

The Dark Gift.

First he destroyed the barriers holding the Muggle and the Magical worlds apart, implanting in Muggles the innate knowledge of Magic’s existence and how to recognise it. Then he opened a chasm in time and space, and doomed hundreds of witches and wizards all over the world to disappear, their whereabouts unknown. They were called the Travellers, and they never came back.

The Wizarding world was too crippled at the time to retaliate; their order had been destroyed. Only confusion and chaos ensued, and the world seemed bleak again. The curses left them weakened and open to suspicion by the Muggles, who had suffered so much because of the Magical war. A large rift was torn in the fabric of society and the Muggles were openly hostile. The Wizarding community feared they would come under fire again.

In the following years, numerous treaties were signed and the Magical community continued to be pushed back, Muggle demands being met with few objections. Wands were banned, except for a select few. The Ministry of Magic became a division within the Muggles’ government institution. Magical creatures and beings were hunted down and slaughtered, or placed under surveillance. Yet, there was nothing to be done. This was peacetime.

1997 will always be remembered as the year that broke the world.

The Weasleys had their wedding, where Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater were untied in Holy Matrimony. The class of 1998 graduated. And life began to assume a pattern of normality on the surface. But things were not over yet…

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He stood in the Chamber, unable to move. He felt as though heavy boulders were bound around him back, pulling him down. But he had to go on. Because he was the hero. Because he was the one who would save them all. But he didn’t even know if he could save himself.

Harry Potter was only seventeen when he defeated Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets. Only he knows what took place, what sacrifice was made. How did he defeat the Dark Lord? The world revered him as a hero, but as the wheel of time turns, is there always a place reserved for the Hero? Or is he left behind, a fragment of a legend in memory?

Red eyes blazed into hers, and long, cold fingers grasped her jaw tightly. “She’s the one,” she heard him hiss, and the words came from deep within the dark cavern of his mouth, acidic and poisonous. “What price will he pay for you, my pretty?”

Hermione Granger was a captive of Voldemort, held for ransom. She was a medic during the Great War, although she had yet to graduate from Hogwarts. Her strength and compassion were renowned during those bleak days. After the war, she was determined to put her life back together, and take an active role in ensuring nothing so terrible ever took place again. But the War had broken her strength of will, and left her unseen scars. She believed in the newfound peace, and time of alliance between both worlds.

He leapt in front of her, shielding her with his body. A blaze of light tore through the air, and hit him directly in the chest. Pain surged through his body, pulsating into his mind. It filled every crevice, touched every nerve, and forced him to drop to his knees. Even as he knelt there, he struggled to speak. “You’ll never win this war.”

Ron Weasley was infamous for his temper, but excelled brilliantly in fortifying Hogwarts and devising strategies to protect the general school body. He was the one who saved the lives of countless children at Hogwarts, and attempted to rescue Hermione after she had been captured. But the badges of War are heavy to wear, especially on a person unaccustomed.

He ran up the stairs, prepared to act. His mind was made up. He had to escape anyway he could, he had to buy both him and his mother some assurance. He seized his wand, knowing exactly who to turn to. Hermione.

Draco Malfoy took on the role of a turncoat. His father had threatened the life of both him and his mother, and he sought safety amongst those opposed to the Death Eaters. His position in the war was hard as he was distrusted by those who could protect him and hunted at his father’s command. Though he eventually lost his mother, his assistance proved vital. Unknown, his valour in doubt, his deeds unspoken of, he was quick to disassociate himself with his family’s deeds. Looking to the future, his past still haunts him.

These are only some of the people who were involved in fighting against Voldemort.

Ginny Weasley was captured and bled by the Death Eaters as a warning to her family. She later disappeared and her body was never recovered.

Severus Snape resumed a place among the Death Eaters to provide Dumbledore with much needed information. Once he was discovered, he was hunted down and slaughtered, his body sent to Dumbledore in a parcel.

Dumbledore lost his life defending Hogwarts from a Death Eater army. His deeds were remembered after the War, and a memorial was constructed in his memory.

Thousands of others died in the war effort, and peace was the gift they granted to the world. It was a peace that they fought for, a peace that they died for, a peace that may yet prove false. The Great War took a heavy toll on the world, and the story weaves on…

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An autumn leaf is plucked from a branch by a gust of wind. It floats down, spiralling towards the ground. It lands on the brown soil, and a ray of warm sunlight touches it. The sun blazes over the edge, the brilliant golden orb rising above the horizon. The night has passed, the winds died down, and now the morning comes at last.

The years that followed the Great War and the Breaking were called the Dark Years, because the shadow of the Dark Gift lingered over them, its terrible reach filtering into the renewed world. Its presence was insidious and corrupting, and it slowly attempted to poison the new order of things.

This is the story of the Dark Years, of the events that formed it, and the people that lived it. This is the story about what happened, after our heroes won their victory. This is simply, a story.