Just Imagine, a Draco Malfoy Fanfiction

The Witching Hour

INCLUDES FOUL LANGUAGE
NOT ACCURATE TO THE BOOKS
REFERENCE TO SUICIDE
DRACO'S POINT OF VIEW

"Hey! Ron!"

"Oi! You look happy."

"Listen. I found a way to bring Y/N back, and with the potion I'm making, we can bring Fred back too."

"But that's Necromancy. Necromancy always comes with a price."

"It's fine. Whatever it is, I'll take it. So? Should we bring Fred back too?"

"Absolutely not."

"What?"

"I'm not letting you pay two prices, where one of them is because of me. I'd rather leave the concept of life and death alone."

"But George-"

"Trust me. As much as he misses him, George would want the same."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright then."

"Malfoy-"

"Hmm?"

"Good luck."

I nodded back to him, and went to show Hermione the potion.

THREE WEEKS LATER

             Hermione, Ron, George, Ginny, Luna, Blaise, Pansy and I, all gathered around her grave. I had prepared the potion, and prayed Godric I had done it right, because Hermione said even an eighth of a stir more or less could make the potion null and void. It was 12:00 am. When the night was at its darkest. The witching hour.

             "Draco- wait." Hermione said, before I uncorked the bottle. "You've read the tale of the three brothers. Right?" She asked. I nodded, recalling the childhood story. "When the second brother resurrected his fiancé she became cold and sad because she didn't belong in the mortal realm." Hermione said. "I- you don't think that-" I started. "Draco, I think she'll be happy to be back with you. But I don't know everything, so if things happen to not work out, just... be rational. Don't be like the second brother. Okay?" She said. I thought back to the story of how the second brother hung himself to truest be with her. I widened my eyes, and nodded briskly.

             She stepped back and allowed me to proceed. I uncorked the bottle and immediately smelled the potion. It was a familiar scent. One that did not bode well.

NARRATORS POINT OF VIEW

             Have you ever smelled a dead flower? If you have, you would be familiar with the smell of the potion. The scent was thick and clouded up your senses. The flower smelled sweeter than it had when it was living. Didn't it? But it wasn't such a pleasant smell. Perhaps it would've been pleasant to you if you didn't know about the concept of death, or what you were smelling; maybe if you're a newborn baby, which in that case, welcome to the world. But the reason that the scent that filled your nostrils when you took a deep inhale was unpleasant, was because you could see what you were smelling. A corpse. And to most people, the sight of anything dead is off putting, therefore, making the scent, also, unpleasant.

             As Draco uncorked the bottle and inhaled the musty smell of it, the first image which came into his mind was the sight of Y/N. when she had died. The sight of her motionless body, imprinted in his mind, as he shed a tear. "Draco. Are you alright?" Asked Luna, placing a hand on his shoulder. She caught a quick smell and ran her hands through her hair, gripping at the roots. "Mum?" She whispered under her breath.

             If you somehow hadn't caught on by now, the smell of the potion would remind the smeller of a person who they had lost.

             "Draco. If you're going to do it, do it now. This is why so many people can't complain the resurrection. They get caught up in their emotions and wait too long until a time of the night that isn't darkest." Hermione said. Draco looked up suddenly at her, and snapped back to reality. He slowly turned the bottle over, and they all watched anxiously as the thick, black, liquid dripped out of the bottle and onto the dirt of the grave.

AUTHORS NOTE

Hey guys, sorry I didn't post earlier today. I was a bit distracted, and totally forgot. Sorry! (Ik, I had one job right? Lol)