Prologue

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Harry Potter is dead.

Those were the words that echoed through the broken-down halls of Hogwarts and silenced the sounds of curses flying around. Draco slowly crawled out from beneath a collapsed wall to peek his head around, only to see Voldemort wearing a sinister grin, laughing maniacally. Next to him, Hagrid stood carrying a corpse in his arms with a pale expression plastered on his face. Draco's mouth fell agape when he noticed the boy In the giant's arms. It was the boy he had tormented for the past seven years, the boy he had envied, the boy he had been secretly admiring all this time. It was Harry Potter.

And he wasn't waking up.

The next moments all happened in a blur of scrambling feet laced with fatal panic. Draco rushed through the ruins of the school with his heart pounding against his chest. How could be let it come to this? Had he not promised himself to change Voldemorts mind? Or at least, to hold him back long enough for Harry to make the first move?

Now he was faced for a life he could not and would not accept. He wouldn't allow his future to be filled with bloodshed, pain and torture.

Part of him wished he had turned his wand on Snape as soon as Dumbledores body fell backwards. Then at least, he would feel a sense of justice. But instead, he was running away from responsibility.

He had no idea where he was headed. He used various charms he had learned from professor McGonagall in order to fill the holes in the staircase as he climbed it.

Eventually, he found himself stopping Infront of a blank wall. The same kind of wall made from the same kind of brick as all the other walls in the castle. Yet somehow, this wall felt significant. This wall felt different. It gave him a sense of hope.

After a few minutes of pondering his peculiar feelings, it clicked in his mind.

He began pacing back and forth, thinking about how desperate he was to find a solution. Something to make all of this undone. Something to bring Harry Potter back to life, so that the dark lord could be slain.

From an outsiders perspective, you would think that Draco had gone mad. His frantic pacing and muffled speech of things like: "please", "anything" and "elixir of life" would make anyone question his sanity.

Finally, it was as if his prayers had been answered. Now Infront of him was no longer a blank wall, but instead a door.

It was the room of requirement.

Draco hastily turned the golden knob of the door and swung it open, stepped inside and slammed it shut behind him. He took a few seconds to let out a sigh of relief. Here at last, he was safe. No one knew where he was and there was no way of getting to him.

However the feeling of safety was quickly numbed by the fact that there was nothing in the room with him. Just a curtain floating in midair in the centre of the room.

Draco was too confused to be angry or frustrated. Instead, he walked up to the blue fabric and touched it. It felt as normal as any other piece of fabric he had come across. Nothing special about it.

He swung the curtain to the side to reveal yet another strange addition to the room. As he stared at the mirror, he wondered how any of this was supposed to bring Harry back to life.

Suddenly, another person was to be seen in the mirror. Draco swiftly turned around and reached for his wand, but there was no one behind him.

He turned back and took note of the person in the mirror. The boy in the middle of the frame looked young, with blonde slicked back hair, a pointed nose and striking blue eyes. He would have believed it to be a younger version of himself, but there was no trace of his signature snobby-ness to see on the boy's face.

Draco looked away from the boy to see that three new people had appeared in the image. This time, he had no issue placing names to face.

Standing around the boy were eleven-year-old Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. All four children smiled happily at him.

It was then that Draco took the time to examine the words imprinted on the mirror itself. Erised. Desire.

He understood.

He had heard about the mirror of erised from his father. Back then, Lucius had told him what he had seen in the mirror back in his school days: himself holding up the house cup, with adoring fans on either side of him.

So, you see, this is the reason why Draco was now so much more confused.

If the boy in the middle of the mirror really was him, then why on earth was he shown with the trio of kids he had hated all these seven years? Why did the mirror insinuate that he wanted any part of their stupid party?

"Makes no sense..." he mumbled under his breath.

With a sigh, he rested his forehead against the glass.

Suddenly, he felt as if he were falling forward.

He caught himself and brought a hand up to his forehead.
How had that been possible? The mirror should have caught his fall, had it not?

He brought his other hand to the mirror and touched it gingerly. As if the mirror consisted of water, his fingers disappeared through it. He felt a tug and all of a sudden, he was being pulled through the mirror.

He screamed for help he knew was not coming as his body tipped forward until he was laying face down on a wooden floor.

"Oh dear!" Said a woman's voice. Draco lifted his head to find he was no longer in the same place he was in before. He groaned as he felt his forehead that had just smacked onto the floor.

The woman dashed to his side and helped him stand back up. "These chairs are rather wobbly, I do apologize. I must get some new ones..." she rambled as Draco dusted off his jumper.

The woman continued, "now, I shall go fetch your robes from the back, alright?". She left the room.

What on earth was happening?

He didn't have much time to think because the next thing he knew, the front door opened and in walked a young boy.

The boy had wild black hair, round glasses and a sca-

Time stopped. The air around him suddenly felt like cool metal pressing against his skin. His mouth went dry and he had a panging pain in his head.

The boy looked at him and smiled.

Draco found his words, "H-Harry?"

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