Its Just not the Same
Chapter One: Resurection
Harry Potter, the youngest Auror in almost 500 years, walked through the door of
his house completely exhausted. Setting down his bag, he sat down on his
couch and laid his head back. Now that the Death Eaters had started up again
with all their mischeif, the Ministry had a lot of work to do. He had had about 6
raids today, one after the other. For the fifth time in the past two years, the
ministry had a gotten a warrant to search the Malfoy Manor, but yet again there
was nothing there.
It was absolutely dreadful going back to the Malfoy Manor. It reminded him so
much of Draco. Harry smiled to himself. He remembered the time that he and
Draco had almost been caught whilst...having fun. His father was coming up the
stairs and Draco quickly pushed Harry under the bed. Harry chuckled to himself.
Those were good times. But Draco had died four years ago, so there was not
ime for thoughts like those. He needed to get back to work.
Harry got up off the couch and went into the kitchen to start making some tea.
hated this dump. It was such a piece of shit. Everything was dirty and old but
Harry couldn't afford anything else. He was an Auror, not a very high paying job.
The least the Ministry could do was give him a home, or a place to stay if they
were going to pay him such a low salary. The only reason he was an Auror was
because he had survived Hogwarts after being attacked multiple times by the
Dark Lord himself and the fact that the war hadn't happened yet.
The war had been expected to come in Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts, but, it
hadn't, so Harry was stuck with this piece of shit life. If only Draco hadn't died in
their sixth year, he wouldn't be living in this shit hole. All of his bane and misery
in this world was a result of the Dark Lord. Harry was almost sure that the Dark
Lord had had something to do with the death of Draco. He was almost positive.
Suddenly, with a renewal of enthusiasm, Harry got to working on his papers. He
was supposed to plan where the Dark Lord would strike next and where his
Death Eaters would be at the time. After a few minutes, the enthusiasm died
away and Harry still sat at the table. Harry wanted to yell.
The rain outside was pouring heavily now and he could here it on the roof and
beating on the windows.
On top of everything, Harry's "condition" had gotten worse. A couple of days
after Draco's death, Harry had started to get this kind of pain, in his lower torso.
He had gone to the doctor and the doctor said that he could find nothing wrong
with him. Then he went to Saint Mungos to see if they could find anything
Magically related wrong with him. There was nothing. He had gotten used to it
to the point where he just ignored it. But in the past few days, it had become
unbearable. It was almost searing through his skin.
Harry got up and went back to his couch. He lay down on his back and started to
think about many things. Draco, being one of the most consistent things to pop
up in his mind. It was so weird. For the past four years he had been able to
forget about Draco and his death. He had been able to go on, ignoring the pain
in his lower torso, but all of the sudden it was stronger, it was worse. The pain
was growing worse by the minute.
Harry's insides were wrenching in pain, it was burning to the point where he
couldn't bear it. He twisted and turned on the couch but he couldn't get it to stop.
Harry spotted a dark figure in his window, it was coming closer to the house.
Thank god! Harry thought, some one might be able to help me! The pain got so
bad no Harry could barely move. The figure got closer. Harry felt like he was
burning from the inside, it was ripping him apart, it was spreading all over his
body. The doorknob twisted. Merlin, please don't let me die, Harry thought panic
stricken.
The door opened.
All of the sudden the pain stopped. Harry thought that he might be dead. But he
could still see.
The figure stood in the doorway, still.
"Help me," Harry gasped, "Please..."
"Harry," the voice said slowly and almost painfully.
"Help me!" Harry said again, pleadingly.
The figure stepped forward. Harry could see his features now. It was the angel
from his dreams, the pallid skin and long blond hair. It was Draco. Only it
couldn't be, because he had died four years ago.
"Draco?" Harry asked feebly.
"Yes," he replied.
"MERLIN DONT DO THIS TO ME!" Harry said with all his might, "DONT
TORTURE ME! I KNOW YOUR NOT REAL, YOU CANT BE!"
"But I am,," Draco said in reply.
"No your NOT!" Harry said beginning to cry, "You CANT be." He stuttered
Draco walked toward the couch, and sat down next to Harry. Harry turned away
and didn't look at Draco, he couldn't. He wasn't real. What had he ever done to
deserve this?
Harry felt dizzy and then everything went black.
TBC...
i know its rather short but...o well, ill get more up soon
Please please please review, i love reviews.