Chapter 1
Christmas of 1996
Harry was furious; no one (except perhaps Ron) believed he was right about his theory that Draco and Snape were serving Voldemort. Moreover, his two best friends were feuding, and Dumbledore seemed not to trust him enough to reveal the whole truth.
He glanced out of the window and spotted a shooting star. Muggles believed these lights granted wishes, as if a foolish piece of flying rock had any powers. Yet, who was he to say that, holding a vial of liquid luck in his trunk?
Closing his eyes, Harry made a wish. "Um..." he muttered, struggling to think of something, "I just wish everything will turn out okay in the end."
Feeling foolish after uttering that, the broom-flying boy threw the Half-Blood Prince's potions book into his trunk, extinguished the lamp, and turned around. He pondered werewolves, Snape, Stan Shunpike, and the Half-Blood Prince until he sank into a restless sleep filled with stealthy shadows and the cries of bitten children.
Ron's scream jolted him awake.
"What's happening?" he said sleepily, searching for his glasses on... Wait, where was his bedside table?
"Where the hell are we?" Ron replied, his voice trembling.
Harry didn't fully grasp what was going on, but he eventually found his glasses on the cold floor. After adjusting to the darkness, he noticed he was in the middle of an enormous empty room, filled with shapes that seemed to be stirring. What on earth was happening?
A sharp male voice echoed, "Who dares to kidnap me! My father will hear about this," said a furious blond.
"And how do we know you didn't kidnap us?" exclaimed the mocking voice of a redhead, "right, this time it wasn't us," added his twin brother.
"Harry! You're here too. Do you have any idea what's going on? I tried using locator spells, but I can't find anything. It's all very strange," exclaimed a girl with a long brown mane.
"Hello to you too, Hermione," Ron said sarcastically, though she seemed not to hear him, or at least pretended not to.
"Uh..." said Harry, trying to process what was happening, "who else is here?"
"As far as I've seen," Hermione continued, "several members of the Order of the Phoenix, along with Dumbledore's Army and Draco."
"Hey, guys! I found something," said a voice Harry recognized as his godfather's. "There's a strange device here with a button and an inscription in strange symbols."
Hermione rushed to the spot. "They're Ancient Runes," she said surprised. "It says: *Pressing the button will give you a glimpse of your future, giving you the strength to know your efforts in the fight will be rewarded. But afterward, you'll forget everything, except the vague feeling that, in the end, everything will be worth it.*"que
Whispers began. It couldn't be denied that the situation was strange; most present were scared, a few just intrigued. Harry turned to look at Severus Snape; few things disgusted Harry more than him. His gaze was cold, expressionless. What if this was a strange plan to finish them all in an unknown place? What if Voldemort emerged from the shadows at any moment? But he stopped when he saw an old man with white beards crossing the room - it was Dumbledore.
Dumbledore examined the strange device. "Calm down," he said amiably, the gray-haired headmaster. "It seems the instructions are clear. Don't worry," he quickly added, seeing confusion and fear spreading in the room. "I can vouch that this is not a dark magic trick. Not to praise myself, but I doubt there are many wizards capable of knocking me out and taking me to another place without me noticing. If they wanted us dead, we'd be dead already. Shall we?" he said, smiling at the girl next to him. Hermione was puzzled, planning a counterargument, but she finally gave in and, albeit hesitantly, pressed the button.
Harry felt a tug, like entering a Pensieve memory. The next thing he knew, he was with the others on a quiet street, bathed in the first rays of the morning sun. As everyone confirmed, none of the few early risers passing by could see them, and they couldn't interact with any objects.
A boy on a bicycle passed, throwing Muggle newspapers. When one hit the house in front of them, Harry approached. The young green-eyed man stooped to read the front page and almost let out a small scream at the date: *December 24, 2021.*
That's when the door began to open, leaving Harry breathless.