Harry Potter: The Forgotten Chronicles- Book 8

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The dragon's giant shadow swept over the patchwork of fields and forests that marked the outskirts of the city. As it circled lower and lower, the gleaming surface of a lake came into view, shimmering like a mirror in the fading light.

"We're dropping!" Harry yelled over the roar of the wind.

"I say we jump!" Ron shouted, his voice filled with a mix of fear and excitement.

"What?" Evelyn cried out, her wide eyes darting between Ron and the rapidly approaching water below.

"When?" Hermione asked, her grip tightening on the dragon's scales.

"NOW!" Harry commanded.

Without hesitation, the four of them let go, plummeting like stones toward the lake. The wind rushed past them in a deafening roar as they hurtled downward. Evelyn barely had time to brace herself before she speared through the water, feet first. The cold was a shock to her system, stealing her breath away as she plunged into the depths.

As the icy water closed in around her, Evelyn was suddenly swept up in a vision. The world faded, and she found herself standing in the grand, dark hall of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort was there, his rage palpable as he slashed his wand through the air. Goblins and guards fell before him, their bodies collapsing to the ground as Nagini slithered through the carnage, her scales slick with blood. The aged goblin coughed, blood spurting from his mouth, while a Gringotts guard—the same one who had stalked Ron—struggled to draw breath, blood running into his eyes.

Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco stood in the background, their faces masks of horror as they witnessed the slaughter. Bellatrix, lips parted and eyes narrowed in twisted pleasure, watched as a widening pool of blood began to encircle Voldemort's boot. With the Elder Wand clutched in his skeletal hand, Voldemort spoke to Nagini in Parseltongue, his voice cold and sinister.

"The boy has discovered our secret, Nagini. We must find out just how much he knows. We must return to our hiding places and see if the others are safe. We must find our Evelyn."

The vision twisted, and suddenly Evelyn found herself in a dimly lit room she recognized all too well: the library at Malfoy Manor. The tension of the battle outside faded, replaced by the soft rustling of pages.

Draco was there, sitting across from her at a grand oak table, his expression softer than she had seen in years. They weren't speaking, but the silence between them was comfortable, intimate. His hand reached out, and she felt the warmth of his touch as their fingers intertwined.

A soft smile played on his lips, and for a brief moment, everything else disappeared—the war, the danger, the darkness that hung over them. All that mattered was the connection between them, as real as the breath she drew.

But as quickly as it appeared, the vision shifted. The warmth faded, and Draco's face blurred into the cold reality of Voldemort's rage. The image of Draco and the peace they shared dissolved into the chaos around her, leaving Evelyn grasping at the remnants of a moment that was never meant to last.

Suddenly, the whole thing shattered, and Evelyn broke the surface of the lake, gasping for breath. The cool air filled her lungs as she swam toward the shore, her limbs heavy with exhaustion and the remnants of the vision. She staggered out of the water, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the shore. Harry's face mirrored her own panic, his eyes wide and frantic.

They looked at each other, the silent understanding passing between them—both had seen something, something important.

"He knows," Harry said, his voice rough and breathless. Ron and Hermione, both dripping wet and shivering, turned to Harry with alarm in their eyes. "You-Know-Who. He knows we broke into Gringotts. He knows what we took. He knows we're hunting Horcruxes."