Author's Unimportant Note: I've had this idea inside my head for many months, I just suck at writing beginnings. So I didn't. UNTIL NOW. I've never really written anything with a big plot such as this, but hopefully I'll do alright. If you'd like to suggest anything, feel free. But I probably won't do it. Or care. Or even acknowledge your existence. But feel free.


Le Prologué

Professor Trelawney peered into the milky orb, her glasses clinking against it. Dumbledore stood silently behind her, waiting patiently. She continued to stare. He waited. She stared. Things did not get better.

Dumbledore coughed. "Um, Sybill, can you see anything?"

"No..." she drawled, dragging the word out as she tried to think of a lie to tell him. "I see uh, an um..." She started to massage the crystal ball with her palms, muttering under her breath. Right before Dumbledore was prepared to leave, she shot up in her chair, crooking her finger at the orb. "It's THEM."

Dumbledore looked swiftly over her shoulder, his eyes widening. "My, oh my." In the orb was a total of five people, all appearing to be muggles. One stood out in the front, a middle aged man with greasy, curly black hair. Trelawney ran her long fingernails against the cold glass, her mutterings becoming full sentences.

"There will be five. There will be five." She stared intently at the glass. "Five will walk in, but only four will walk out. One shall perish by their own choices, past, present, and future." Her head shot up. "Albus. Company's coming."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "But Sybill, these cannot possibly be wizards."

She started to shake. "Do not worry, Albus. I can only see bits of the future; it is much too deep for a Seer such as myself." As she finished, her crystal ball turned over, rolling off the desk and crashing against the wood floor, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. Mist sizzled out from the glass, causing an unattractive stench to fill the air around them. Dumbledore sprayed some pocket-sized lemon air freshener.

"There is hope, Albus. After the destruction there will be light. And it will be beautiful, Albus. My god, it will be beautiful."

Uh-oh.

End of Le Prologué


"Guys, we have to move."

Nate stood in the center of his apartment, looking seriously at the four people scattered lazily about. Eliot didn't even look up from his book titled 403 Ways to Study Butterflies. Hardison was napping, his head lolled back on the couch, a gentle snore disrupting the air. Sophie was kindly helping Parker build a mini-parachute out of napkins, the Christmas kind. Nate glared angrily at the scene. For once, he actually had something important to say.

"Fine, you don't have to give a shit. But when the police knock down the front door in the next oh-" He glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes, nobody is going to feel sorry for you."

Eliot dug the heel of his boot in the carpet, staining it with mud, just to piss Nate off.

Nate roared, slapping Hardison on the back of the head with a rolled up magazine. The Hacker shot up, swerving his head wildly around. "I'm here! I'm here! I was just about to hack whatever I was supposed to..."

"No, Alec." Sophie was attaching yarn to the napkin Parker currently held. She taped the end of the string to the corner of the napkin, placing it firmly and then standing up. "Nate was just saying that we have to move. Bloody hell, as if I could miss another one of my yoga classes..."

"You guys obviously don't understand the urgency of this situation." Nate grabbed the TV remote and flicked it on. "Look."

A reporter with a shitload of grease in his hair was standing in front of...holy shit, the building they were in. "Police officer James Sterling has announced that five con artists, yes, the five we have been searching for, are currently residing in the building behind me. Officers are currently climbing up the stairs, checking every room for the team. When they are found, they will be arrested and booked." The reporter shot a fake smile, the Botox making it difficult. His teeth blinded a part of the screen. "James Sterling will be rewarded many dollars for capturing them."

Parker grabbed the remote and slammed it against the wall before the reporter could finish. She strapped the parachute to her back, which was difficult since it was ten sizes too small. She pulled the window up, about to jump, but Eliot grabbed her around the waist. "Are you crazy? You'd be killed."

Nate paced nervously. "We have to get out, can't bring much. Hardison, grab the pile of cash we have under the floorboards. Stuff it in a suitcase, and we'll take the secret exit."

Hardison matched the reporter's grin. "Finally!" He squealed, sprinting into the other room. "Ten months, and we finally get to use the tunnel I built." The hacker's voice echoed across the room.

"We could go to Britain." Sophie suggested, her accent unpleasantly ringing in their ears.

"Um, no. No way." Eliot growled, staring at the Grifter with obvious distaste. "I was thinking more like Kentucky." He flipped through his wallet, showing Sophie a picture of him on a chestnut horse, naked. "Good times, Kentucky."

"NO!" Sophie pounded her foot. "Britain!"

At that instant, they heard shuffling feet coming up the stairs. "They're in here!" A muffled voice yelled. A large object banged on the door. "Open up, the police!"

Panicking, Sophie ran in circles, knocking over Parker. The blonde snaked over to Eliot's legs, grabbing his ankles. He gave a yelp of surprise, and fell on top of Parker. "Yay! Sex!" The blonde squealed, but Eliot quickly stumbled off of her, shaking himself off.

"No! Not sex!" He growled, almost bumping into Hardison.

"It's ready!" The Hacker screamed, already running toward the exit. It was a trapdoor in Nate's closet, and it led deep into the ground, finally earthing near the airport. A perfect escape route. "By the time the police find this, we'll be halfway to...wherever we're going." Hardison scratched his head. "Where ARE we going, anyway?"

"Britain!" Sophie screeched before she was so rudely shoved into the tunnel by Eliot. The team followed her down, Eliot last. As they heard the front door splinter to a million pieces, Eliot slammed the latch down, darkness engulfing the team.

And the journey began.


"I don't like it. It's cold in here." Parker shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She and the rest of the team were slowly trudging across the muddy floor, avoiding the heavy beams holding the ground in place. Only Nate seemed excited, walking at the front of the group, a flashlight in hand. The sound of water slowly dripping could be heard, and Hardison stopped to splash a puddle in his face before moving on.

"It was a lot warmer when I had 400 Mexicans in here digging." Hardison chattered, scooting next to Parker. The crew didn't speak for a while, and for a moment all hope seemed to be lost. Sophie was almost dead; she was leaning against the dirt wall, causing mud to drag across her on one side.

Finally, Nate's head hit a wooden door slanted across the ceiling and wall. "Ow!" He rubbed the top of his head, glaring angrily around. "Who put that there?"

"Pablo and Carlos." Hardison replied sincerely, pulling a key out of his jeans pocket and sticking it into the lock. It clicked open, and the team warily climbed out.

The local airport towered above them, but in front of the crew stood a small, cramped, airplane. It was a basic aircraft, and all of the team frowned except for Hardison, who was beaming. "I called in early and booked it! It's odd; nobody else seemed to want it. Isn't that weird?"

Sophie scratched her head. "How will we get to Britain in this tin can with wings?"

Nate was busy configuring the controls in the pilot section. "Who's going to fly, Hardison? We do have a pilot, right?" When Hardison looked down and grimaced, Nate roared like a dinosaur and banged his fist against the already cracked and dusty headboard.

Eliot walked casually up. "No probs, Nathan. I know how to fly." He picked at something in his fingernails, leaning all his weight on one leg.

"I do too!" Parker screeched, flapping her arms and buzzing around the crew, her spirits obviously lifted. Eliot tripped her as he was climbing in beside Nate, who had politely moved to the passenger seat. Hardison, Parker, and Sophie grudgingly climbed in the cramped back seat and, as the plane lifted off, the seats collapsed, causing the trio to be scattered across the floor.

"Bloody hell!" Sophie screamed. "It's not worth it. Go ahead and arrest me, Sterling, I'd rather that than this bullshit!"

The team ignored her.

About five hours later, the plane started to rattle and smoke combusted out on the engine. Eliot tried to steer it, but the sharp turn he made caused the plane to flip and tumble down to the ground.

"We're crashing!" Hardison screamed, his arms swinging madly in the air. As the plane shot down, Eliot looked at the coordinates.

"We're right above Britain." He grunted rather unhappily, pulling up on the controls sharply, but getting no response. The steer ripped off, blowing wildly in the plane.

"YAY!" Sophie yelled, suddenly happy. She crawled over to the window, looking down at her beloved home. All she saw was forests and fields, an occasional house. "Boo." She cried unhappily, drawing her knees to her chest. "No people."

The plane hurtled down, and, with a loud bang, crashed in the trees. Everybody shot to the front of the plane from the force, getting cuts and bruises and everything. Nobody moved for a while, but Sophie finally grunted and heaved herself up, climbing out of the trees and falling to the ground, like a monkey.

"Help!" Nate groaned, his limp body being dragged out of the plane by Eliot and Hardison. "They're gonna kill me! My team is going to kill me!" Both Eliot and Hardison let go of Nate and let his body drop to the ground, no sound except for the soft thud his head made.

"Why are we gonna kill you Nate?" Parker looked at him innocently, crawling over to her boss. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't put the extra gas Hardison got in the plane." Nate sobbed, covering his face. Eliot kicked him, calling him a dumbass, but everybody else remained silent.

"We're in the middle of stupid Britain, Nate! Britain! Even if we DO find people, all we'll get is tea and crumpets! TEA AND CRUMPETS, NATE. DO YOU WANT TO EAT THAT? I DIDN'T THINK SO!" Eliot pouted in the corner, but as he did Parker slowly staggered up, pointing.

"Look."

A few miles out stood a giant castle, soft fields surrounding it. There were obvious signs of civilization, and the team stared for a while. "PEOPLE! YAY!" Hardison jumped up. "There probably aren't any Sterlings either." He started to jolt in the castle's general direction, but Eliot pushed him back.

"If we're gonna go, we're gonna take our time. I need my stomach empty to make room for tea." Eliot glanced around. "That way none of the other food in my stomach is ruined."

"Fine." Nate sighed, glancing at the castle again. "I guess we don't have a choice. All our money burned up in the crash."

The team continued to stare for a moment before staggering up and walking towards the castle.