Double Trouble || Draco Malfoy x Reader

dumbledore's return || chapter seventy-one

My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

Everyone started to rise to their feet. The rest of the Order had rounded the several Death Eaters up and kept them bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx. Draco glanced over at his father, who was apart of the group, his face almost grey.

There was an agonized scream in the distance that ripped into the still air.

"Draco, we've got to go." I whispered softly.

Draco jerked his head in my direction. He looked straight at me, but his eyes seemed far away, as though he was dreaming. "Come on," I extended a hand, ready to follow the others, who were now clambering into the tunnel Harry had disappeared through.

Draco's mouth twitched but he took my hand nonetheless. We walked together into the Atrium, Ron and the others leading. I drew to a halt and heard Ginny gasp. The remains of the statues of the witch, wizard, and centaur were scattered across the ground; once sleek and untouched, now full of scuff marks and shattered glass.

My heart was in my throat. Harry was a crumpled heap on the floor. Dumbledore sat on the ground beside him, looking down.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore..." he whispered in a voice that did not sound like his own.

Harry shivered and balled his hands into fists. It was hard to watch as he threw himself onto his back, the tendons in his throat visible and pulsing. It felt like my heart had ceased beating when his back arched and he screamed through his teeth.

After several moments, he stopped and slowly rolled onto his side, his chest rapidly rising and falling. "You're the weak one..." he gasped strenuously. "And you'll never know love or friendship. And I feel sorry for you."

A violent spasm rocketed through Harry's body as he threw himself onto his back again. An audible gasp escaped my lips this time and I clapped a hand around my mouth. Large, black tendrils emerged from Harry's chest; and by the time the last tendril was pulled out, he was deathly pale and panting.

Tall, skeletal thin, and black-hooded, a face white and gaunt stared down at Harry through scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes. Voldemort hovered over the boy, his wand hung loose and carefree between his fingers. "You're a fool, Harry Potter." He whispered, sounding as though there was a razors edge to his voice. "And you will lose everything."

The fireplaces across the Atrium started spitting green flames. Cornelia Fudge, Percy Weasley, and at least thirty other Ministry employees streamed into the open. One look at the devastation and the Minister froze.

Voldemort slowly raised his head. He caught sight of the witches and wizards before him and disappeared into a cloud of smoke. The spot in which he stood was now empty.

"H-he's back!" Fudge shook.

~

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS

"In a brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must- Not-Be Named has returned to this country and is active once more.
"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord — well, you know who I mean — is alive and among us again. It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord — Thingy. We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month." The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more." Details of the events that led to the Ministry turn around are still hazy, though it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening. Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailable for comment last night. He has insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile the Boy Who Lived —,"

"Reading that rubbish again are you?" asked Draco, looking at me from over the top of the paper. We were in the Slytherin common room. I was sitting on the leather sofa nearest the warm flames, reading the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet.

"I wanted to see what Fudge had to say about Thursday night." I shrugged softly. "There's no mention yet of Sirius's death. But, they're calling Harry 'the Boy Who Lived' again."

Draco slumped down into the sofa next to me. He threw an arm over the back of it and peered over my shoulder.

"You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to four, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter, page nine." I read aloud, "it's certainly given them lots to write about."

Draco hummed in agreement. His eyes scanned a couple of the inked columns, seemingly searching for something. At a loss, he cleared his throat and quietly asked— "Ehm— anything on my father?"

I turned my head to the side and met Draco's profile. His light grey eyes were duller than usual. They lacked their usual twinkle.

"No, not yet." I whispered, slowly shaking my head. "I'm sorry."

Draco blinked away and shrugged. "No matter," he said, sounding rather empty.

I folded up the newspaper and tossed it aside. Draco turned back to me upon hearing the rustle of the paper and lifted his brows in surprise when I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you," I whispered as I drew myself into him.

Draco moved his arms away from the sofa and wrapped them around me. His head dipped forward onto my shoulder and he sucked in a deep breath. "I love you..." he mumbled softly.

~

A warm summer breeze swept the hair out of my face. Rays of gold dripped across the land and kissed my skin like sparks of fire. There was a gentle rustle in the air from the leaves up above and there was a reminiscence of morning dew in the grass.

"I've been thinking about something Dumbledore said to me." said Harry, grabbing his bag from the carriage and slinging it over his shoulder. "And what's that?" I asked, Draco helping me grab ahold of Snowy's cage. Once it was firmly in my grip, the carriage set off, pulled by the leathery, horse-like creatures which this time, I could see.

"That even though we've got a fight ahead of us, we've got one thing that Voldemort doesn't have."

"Yeah?" Ron grinned.

"Yeah," Harry dipped his head and smile. "Something worth fighting for."

That very something being the thing that drove Voldemort out of power during the first war. Something that Harry's mother, Lily, had used to protect him from harms way.

Love.

~ End of Fifth Year ~

* edited chapter