The Cursed Boy - Prologue (Y.1)

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War.

It had been going on for years now, truth be told, he didn't even know why he kept fighting these days, but if he didn't, then few would dare stand in the way of the greatest Dark Wizard ever.

He just wanted to get this whole thing over with.

So did every member of the Order, as Albus Dumbledore saw how the British Ministry of Magic was handling the threat Voldemort was, he made a choice and founded an order that would stand in his way.

The Order of the Phoenix was born.

The people who made up the Order of the Phoenix were all brave, all fighting for the smallest chance to one day end Voldemort's reign of terror.

Christian Hart was one of those people, he had joined the Order with a few friends after graduating from Hogwarts, of course, everyone was useful in their own way, Christian wasn't much of a fighter but knew how to get some intels like no other.

Running a bar where all the Wizards, good or bad, came to get drunk was an excellent way to gather gossip, sometimes some people once drunk enough had the pleasure to share their beliefs, opinions and more.

And sometimes, some of Voldemort's followers slipped a few snippets of their plans. Death Eaters, as they called themselves, weren't all smart people.

Yet for the past few months, it was the Order itself that was losing, only two months ago, young Molly's two brothers had been killed and God only knows how they were among the Order's most valorous fighters.

Christian never believed those two would ever go out like that.

Unfortunately, Voldemort's army also had some of the most formidable fighters, and if that wasn't enough, their ranks were only growing as more and more wizarding families claimed to agree with the Dark Wizard's plans.

The freak wanted to put the Wizards back where they belonged, he thought anyone who hadn't Wizard blood in their veins needed to be slaughtered, or enslaved at the very best.

And to know that people were willing to support these beliefs made Christian sick.

If one of those Death Eaters dared to show up here, he'd do anything and everything to make them suffer.

That's what he thought until she came along.

He hadn't heard from her in years, hell, he even thought her dead for a while! Yet she came knocking on his door this very evening, it was his childhood friend we're talking about here, what was he supposed to do? Tell her off?

Well, he almost did, but she needed some help.

And he wasn't the type to look the other way when someone needed him.

Both of them had enough time to catch up before she went to the bathroom, he couldn't believe the shit she'd gotten herself into and when he thought back to what he'd heard from others about her some months ago, all made sense now.

The swinging door to his bar opened, two hooded figures entered, he noticed they took a quick look around, he knew who they were or rather, who they worked for.

- May I help you? Christian asked, as he leaned over his counter, reaching for his wand under the counter nervously.
- I think so. One of the figures spoke, it was a man, he could tell by the voice alone. Can we get a drink?
- What would you like? Christian asked, as the two sat on the stools on the other side of the counter, too late for his wand now.
- What do you recommend? The same man spoke, crossing his arms on the counter, his deep green eyes twinkling beneath the mask he wore.

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