Wishmaster

Prologue The Second

The waves glittered in the sun as they brushed the lower sands of Shell beach. As the waves retreated, they uncovered dozens of shells and stones that also glittered as the cool white light landed on them, briefly, before the veil of the tide hid them again. Rocks guarded either flank of the stretch of gritty black sand, which was strewn with seaweed. Seagulls flying from colonies in the nearby cliffs circled the rocks shrieking raucously, pecking to get at the small aquatic shelled things that lived in the rock pools and between the larger cracks.

Harry sat on a clear, dry patch of sand and watched a small crab as it scuttled past him towards the other end of the beach. At the end of its pilgrimage, it was intercepted by Luna, who placed it at the edge of a pool and watched thoughtfully as it swam to the murky bottom. Harry wished he could share Luna's feeling. The past three days had been just short of a nightmare.

Harry had regained consciousness after the "collision" as he thought of it, to find that the others, including Bill, who had just returned, all struggling to get out of the bushes. After pulling Bill out a rose bush and helping him to get everyone else back on their feet, Harry had had some explaining to do.

They hadn’t liked it.

Even though Harry had told the censored version, much to the annoyance and anger of Fleur and Bill, Ron and Hermione had guessed the rest. They had been busy around the house for the next few days – putting up wards and converting the garden to magically grow food now that Shell cottage was to be self-sufficient – and Harry was glad of the tasks that distracted him from all the accusing stares and most hurtful of all, the whispers behind his back.

When Harry had shown them the Elder Wand, there had been uproar. Bill had shouted and Fleur had looked aghast. But it was the disbelieving looks on Ron and Hermione’s faces that had caused Harry’s heart to constrict, and they hadn’t said anything, just walked away. Harry knew that they were convinced that he had finally cracked under his once obsession to find and unite all three of the Hallows.

He didn’t blame them.

He looked at the snitch in his hand again, again wondering if he really was obsessed. No, he told himself yet again, it wasn’t like that this time. The weird obsessive longing he had been fevered with had been extinguished by loss and fear, and now all that remained was a certain grim determination that had flowered in him as Dumbledore had flown beside him on his way back to his physical self. He had tried to tell his friends this but Luna was the only person whom he was sure had believed him.

He didn’t blame them for not believing about his "out of body" experience, he wouldn’t have believed himself if he hadn’t started to notice the differences in himself. Harry looked down at the old snitch again, then at the hand that was holding it. He was a lot paler, for a start, he thought, remembering how pale the young version of Riddle had been when it had merged with Harry’s soul.

...I was about to die...

The thought ran through Harry’s head for about the millionth time. He voiced it.
An odd shuddering startled him and he looked at the snitch in his hand. The little golden ball was shuddering violently. A jerk of excitement coursed through Harry as he remembered the words that he had pondered over for so many weeks before the events at Malfoy Manor.

...I open at the close...

Harry put the snitch to his lips.

"I am about to die," He told it.

With a snap that echoed dully across the vast expanse of ocean before him, the tiny golden ball split in two.

Harry sat, stunned and shivering with excitement as he finally saw it.

The Resurrection Stone.
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Authors Note : And here at last is the next prologe, part one of the fic being finished and part two now comencing.

Thank you to my thus-far reveiwers and my beta, hope you like this chappie and that I can get another one up soon.