CONTROL | harry potter

PROLOGUE

Alexander Hale wasn't supposed to be out this late. Not that he had a curfew, or anything preposterous like that, but it was well past the time that anyone should've been out, especially on a full moon night like this one, when the moon was at its proxigee.

The problem was, Hale had lost his wand.

Lost it, forgotten it, had it stolen, Merlin knew. But there was no telling where it could've been at the moment, and he wasn't willing to wait until morning to find out. He was on his way to the Ministry at that instant, in order to search for it.

Of course, nothing could have been more foolish, but Alexander had always been of the reckless sort, even as a boy. It was fair to say, though, that he was forty-six years old - skilled in wandless magic (although not skilled enough to Apparate without a wand), and not too out of shape to fend off any, er, unwanted attention.

Obviously, he had overestimated his own capability.

Autumn was approaching, and the dead of night called for low temperatures in Britain (it wasn't really the dead of night; in fact, dawn was about to break, according to his pocketwatch, but the air was black as pitch, disrupted only by the weak, flickering streetlamps that lined the cobbled road and the pale luminescence of the full moon). Hale shivered and drew his cloak tighter about his body, pulling his hood down over his face to shield himself from the crisp air, and the gazes of others. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there.

After all, he had been reading the Daily Prophet; who hadn't, during this dark time? He knew about the killings, about the glowing, green mark left in the sky as an imprint of his presence. He knew about the new dark wizard. Many people called him the new Grindelwald.

He did not want to consider the prospect of a second Grindelwald; the man who had taken his beloved wife's life, the man who had nearly burnt the wizarding world to ashes, just for "the greater good," as he had proclaimed, but every sane person knew his bombast was a load of rubbish.

Alexander didn't want to admit it now, but he was afraid of a new Grindelwald. He didn't know how much he loved peace until he had acquired it, and now that he held it in his hands, he didn't want to let it go, but he knew it was impossible, like holding water or sand in his palms.

Alexander Hale was so wrapped up in his thoughts about Lord Voldemort and Gellert Grindelwald, that he didn't notice a dark, hunched shadow that crept closer and closer to him with every second. He didn't notice that the creature had wicked-looking canines and gleaming, yellow eyes with pupils dilated so small it was almost as if they weren't there at all.

He didn't have time to cry out when the werewolf tackled him to the ground and took a great chunk out of his throat, but he did have time to recognize the half-human, half-wolfen face before him. It was someone he knew, someone he trusted, because she was his friend at the Ministry.

Evian Greyback.

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so, did you guys like it? love it? please share with me what you thought in the comments below. this is just a short prologue to let you know how alexander hale died. i've been experimenting with third person lately, and i've concluded that i love it.

don't worry, chapter 1 will be longer. in fact, you may be reading chapter 1 VERY, VERY shortly. i'm actually going to upload it right after this, but yeah! i hope you loved this short prologue, and i hope you love chapter 1 even more (it's super long btw, more than 2000 words, yes that is very long to me).