A/N: okay, so this is a kind of prologue to the story. My first ever multi-chapter fic so please be nice. Whether I continue with this story or not depends on you. Constructive criticism is welcome, just don't put it very harshly. Hope you like it

28 year old Harry James Potter yawned and stretched. This was getting out of hand. The young Head Auror had been immersed in paperwork for the last one month. The reason? People were showing up all over the country. 'Now where's the problem in that?' you ask. The problem is, these people are supposed to be Dead. Yes, DEAD. Like, never coming back. How? No one knew...and the strange thing was, there was no pattern to their returns...yes people were just randomly returning from death. The only pattern was that all of these people had died between 1980 to 1998,by or because of Voldemort...and were the people who had been on the Light side...he didn't know what to do, or what to expect...anything could happen...they were sure that none of the death eaters or Voldemort was going to return...the fear was from hope...how could they dare to hope, when their hopes might all come crashing down? Could they anticipate the return of someone they loved someone, whom they just stopped grieving for, only to find that they weren't returning? The hurt was too much, and Harry, who had suffered more loss than anyone else, could not dare to hope for their return...


Miles away, in the small quiet village of Godric's Hollow,two figures lay on the ground, unconscious in front of the graves of Lily and James Potter, Remus and Nymphadora Lupin, and the memorial of Sirius Black. These people were worshipped by the Wizarding World as being the closest to their Saviour, and had long been dead...but when so many were returning, how could they be deprived of this chance?