How the World Changes

by TheFreckledKangaroo

Almost three years after the Battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort the Wizarding World is finally at peace. Witches, Wizards and Muggles alike can finally live in happiness without fear of death or destruction lurking around the corner; then something happens, turning the world onto its head. Can the peace be restored before the world is ruled by evil? Dramione. FINISHED.

1. Prologue

How the World Changes

Prologue

The final blast shot from his wand, knocking his opponent into the blazing fire; they were gone before their attacker could even blink. Dropping his wand, he rushed to the side of a young women who lay in a mangled heap on the floor; blood pooling around her small frame to the point where the young man feared the girl was dead. He fell to his knees by her side, taking her gently in his arms, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as she gave no sign of life. The man carefully brushed her blood soaked hair from her face; placing his fingers firmly on her neck, desperately searching for any sign of a pulse.

Another young man ran up the stairs, hoping that he wasn't too late, and that he had held the attackers off long enough that his friend could get to the young woman. Running into the room, he paused at the scene that lay before him; his distraught friend still frenzied in trying to find any sign of life in the young woman. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair, straightening his glasses as he strode to the pair crouched on the ground.

"Anything?" he asked, his voice taunt and small.

"No," his friend replied, his voice flooded with pain and desperation. "It's as if she's de-"

He paused mid-sentence his eyes wide and attentive as he held his fingers close to the young woman's throat once again.

"It's there," he whispered, the hand on the girl's throat steady, the other shaking. "I felt it. She still has a pulse; it's faint, but it's there. We have to get her to the hospital," he said to his companion, lifting the girl gently into his arms as he stood; her blood quickly staining the front of his shirt until it was no longer in its original color.

"Use the floo," the bespectacled boy advised. "It's not as quick, but if you disapparate, you run the risk of splinching her."

The young man nodded, watching fearfully as the fire roared to life; the shadow of the flames casting eerie shadows on the room and its occupants. He took a breath and walked to the fire, turning slightly towards the other boy.

"I promised."

"I know," the man responded, his eyes glistening.