Before the story begins I must say that I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. Only this particular story is mine and I really hope you like it.
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Chapter one: Still Alive
It was July's last week and students were bound to return to school soon. It was peaceful about and the brown-haired woman inwardly regretted that such quiet and silence would soon be broken by packs of students bustling around, just like every year. Admiring the empty place, she was determined to take in every last bit of it she could before the scenery would change.
"There you are, I've been looking all over for you"
The young woman turned around to face whomever had called out for her. Red hair and freckles met her sight.
"Why?"
"Well… I just wanted to be with you…"
She smiled. It was good to have a lonely stroll across the grounds, but it was better having the man standing in front of her for company. He looked down at her returning the smile as she reached out to take his hand and began the silent walk towards nowhere in particular.
Just as they were about to leave through the front doors for a walk outside, a transparent someone caught up with them.
"Professor!"
They both turned around and met the hovering ghost.
"Hello Nicholas" greeted the woman.
"Good evening" answered the ghost, "I'm really sorry to interrupt, but the Headmistress would like a word with you"
"Oh, right… Well, tell her I'll be right over"
With a final bow, the ghost disappeared and left the couple alone once again.
"Professor McGonagall needs to talk to me" she said.
"Then don't keep her waiting. I'll meet you at dinner, okay?'
"Alright. Oh, and one last thing" she reached up to him, standing on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a light kiss, "I love you Ron" she whispered before parting and making her way towards the Headmistress' office.
Hermione Granger, the new Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, left behind her fiancé, Ronald Weasley, and quickly made her way towards the hidden office.
"Apple pie" she told the statue before the secret entrance and crossed the opening that the gargoyle made when the password made its effect on it. Finally reaching the door, she knocked twice before it opened.
"Come in, come in" called out a voice from inside.
Hermione entered the warm office and spotted Professor McGonagall sitting behind the desk. She looked somewhat pale and flustered, but before Hermione got a chance to ask about her condition, the Headmistress motioned her to sit down next to none other than professor Snape himself. A teacup filled with lemon tea appeared in front of her, as well as a tablespoon and a jar of sugar.
Looking around uneasily, Hermione took the cup and the tablespoon ignoring the sugar hovering in mid-air in front of her. A closer look at the potions master proved that something wasn't completely right, for he looked tense as well.
"What…" before Hermione could complete her question, though, the Headmistress cleared her throat and next to Hermione, a black robed figure swiftly made its way right in front of her. Its face was hidden beneath a hood and it moved so silently and rapidly, it startled Hermione.
No one said a word and Hermione looked from the mysterious guest, to professor McGonagall, to professor Snape, completely bewildered. She finally set inquiring eyes on the Headmistress, her mouth slightly open in a failed attempt of saying something.
"Granger…"
It took a while for Hermione to realize that it had been the unknown character the one that had spoken her name. When her brain snapped out of trance and sharply yanked her back into reality, she registered the fact that she actually knew the voice behind the hood. Frowning, throwing one last confounded look at both professors, she slowly stood up, teacup and tablespoon still clutched tightly in her hands, and went to stand right in front of the stranger.
Gloved hands raised themselves towards the rims of the hood and pulled it back slowly, deliberately delaying the exposure of the face behind it. With a final tug the garment was completely down…
CRASH
The teacup smashed into tiny pieces and the hollow clank of the tablespoon rang too loudly in their ears. A very pregnant silence filled the large office.
"You…" finally whispered Hermione. Understanding finally dawning on her as to the reason behind the others' unnatural expressions. The one standing before her brought the same disbelieving, flabbergasted expression the others held time before, when they first discovered who the newcomer was.
"Yes, me" whispered the person back.
"But… but" stuttered the otherwise calm and collected Transfiguration teacher, "you… you were supposed to be…"
"Dead?" completed the one standing right in front of her.
"Why… yes!"
It was a man, the newly arrived, and he chuckled slightly… bitterly. He shook his head and removed the gloves of his hands, as if to better prove he was still alive, with blood running down his veins.
"No… I didn't die…"
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It had taken Ron a lot more than it took Hermione to get used to the presence sitting next to him, silently sipping on some butterbeer. After a while, he had stopped pinching himself and now contented himself by gaping, shaking his head still in disbelief every now and then.
"So… you didn't die," said Hermione settling herself on a comfortable armchair facing both men. "It sure has come as a shock, but it's good to see you're still alive"
"Thank you"
"What… how…" Ron was still having a hard time taking in this information.
The other man chose to ignore the redhead's sputter and focused on the young woman sitting in front of him. She was studying him through narrowed eyes, her hands unconsciously fidgeting on her lap. The man finally sighed and set his butterbeer aside.
"I see you've been busy," he pointed at Hermione's engagement ring making her blush. "So, when are you exchanging vows?"
"Umm, somewhere around next winter" she answered now toying with the jewel incrusted golden band.
"I see… and, what have you been doing lately?"
"Well, Ron here is working for the ministry… he's an Auror. And I took professor McGonagall's place as Transfiguration teacher because she was elected Headmistress"
"That's interesting…"
An uncomfortable silence engulfed them and he couldn't take it any longer. It was pointless to discuss such unimportant things right now, when obviously more important matters were at hand.
"I suppose you're wondering why am I not dead"
"Well, it wouldn't hurt if you told us," blurted out Ron finding his voice after a while and quizzically staring at the guy.
He still had that pale, almost look-through, skin of his, sleek blond hair, and cold, blue eyes. Those eyes once filled with ice that had found warmth in someone else's presence… Hermione stared one last time at his eyes. Draco Malfoy's eyes were once again lifeless… empty.
"Well," spoke Draco "I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but then again, I can't tell you something I don't really know myself"
"What?"
"All I know is that, even though I thought I was dead, I found enough life in me to carry on… to come back"
"I say, that's an unexpected turn of events!" Ron was still staring, almost admiring, in utter fascination at his old school enemy. The boy, now a man, had always inspired in him nothing but pure anger and hatred. Now, seeing him there, alive and a tad battered, could only provoke admiration.
"After the war we lost track of you" put in Hermione stealing Ron's gaze for the first time from Malfoy, "and then we received word that you… well, that you had died"
Draco looked at Hermione. The woman was somewhat uneasy, almost avoiding his gaze. "That's not what you heard," he stated, not as a question, but as an affirmation.
"Er… no."
"Actually we heard you'd gone off your rocker and killed yourself"
"Ron!"
"Well it's true! That's what we heard, and added up with our fruitless search for you well it really is no surprise that Ha- er… that we all believed it, no matter how farfetched it sounded"
There was no mistaking it. Ron had been about to say something he wasn't supposed to. Hermione was staring daggers at him, only to prove Draco's suspicions.
"And it took you three years to get here, no less!" added Hermione in a desperate attempt to cover up for her fiancé's error.
"Hermione" Draco locked his eyes onto Hermione's, unabling her to look away.
"Yes?"
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"…" On second thought, "nothing…"
"So, three long years and you're finally back" cut in Ron in one last try to sound casual after his blunder, "what are you up to now?"
"Actually," Draco leaned back and took another sip of his butterbeer, "that's what I'm here for in the first place" a sudden eagerness replaced the calm tone of his voice, but he still sounded cool, kind of business-like.
Hermione sent Ron a glare that was sure to give him nightmares for the rest of the year. Apparently, this wasn't really the subject she had wanted to discuss, as she could already see what it would be about. Ron failed to catch on, a shiver running down his spine.
"I came here to look for Harry… where is he?"
Now Ron was mentally trashing himself. He understood why Hermione had looked at him that way and now felt stupid at not realizing the obvious before. All he hoped for now was that it wouldn't have to be him the one to answer Malfoy's question. Hermione's face drooped and he braced himself for the worse. Just as he was about to say something, Hermione suddenly spoke.
"Draco…" she weighted carefully each and every word she was about to say, pausing to chose the appropriate words. "Harry… he…"
Draco felt his stomach drop off a bungee and the blood drain from his face. A lump had formed in his throat and for some reason, he found breathing an extremely difficult task.
"Well, after you disappeared he felt terrible… I mean, after all, you were really close"
"WHERE THE HELL IS HE?"
"DRACO!" Hermione's eyes were shinning with unshed tears, "HE'S DEAD, HARRY DIED!"
XXX XXX XXX
Harry Potter stared at his image repeatedly. No matter what he did, he still had astonishingly good looks with his ever-unruly raven-black hair, emerald green eyes and very athletic body. The mirror only portrayed a handsome young man wearing a very expensive, brand new, tailored suit. But still, to Harry, something just wasn't right.
Perhaps it was the suit's color, maybe the tie, perhaps even the fact that he was still trying to get used to his new contacts… Yeah, something of the sort had to be. Because, what could be possibly wrong with an extremely expensive attire? Heck! It could even be that it was brand new and Harry wasn't yet used to see himself wearing it.
But no matter how much he turned and meticulously studied himself up and down, front to back, he still felt… uncomfortable. And even though he kept trying to convince himself it had to do with a thousand insignificances, it remained a fact that there was something, deep inside his mind, that would keep nagging him for ever, or at least as long as he wore such garments.
Sighing in defeat, Harry backed away from the mirror, throwing it one last disdainful look. He still had a lot to do and had no time to waste in a stupid confrontation with the mirror he was going to lose anyways.
Picking up his briefcase from the chair he'd left it at the night before, he quickly made his way downstairs, giving his tie one last tug to secure it in place. As usual, his breakfast was already made, and waiting for him at the dinning room was an aging man, dressed just as elegantly (and should we say expensively) as him, his face hidden behind that day's newspaper.
"Ah! Good morning" said the man lowering his newspaper when he heard Harry enter the dinning area.
"Good morning" said Harry as brightly as only four and a half hours of sleeping could allow.
"I see you've been up late at night again"
"Had too…"
The man smiled knowingly and shook his head, amused. When Harry took a seat in the fine, recently polished, oak table, and was served a splendid breakfast by a couple of maids, the man finally closed his newspaper and set it aside.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" inquired the man.
"Well…" Harry looked up from his omelet, "if you don't really trust me to take care of it, then by all means go yourself"
The man pursed his lips and frowned at the younger one sitting opposite him. Harry knew he couldn't say anything against those words.
"Of course I trust you, it's just…"
"Then go and have fun, I'll take care of everything here" interrupted Harry.
"…oh alright!"
Harry smiled inwardly. It was always the same with Mr. Robert Matthews. The good old man liked Harry so much, he would give in to practically his every will. This time was not one for an exception. Mrs. Matthews's birthday was that very day, unfortunately a Monday, and Mr. Matthews had a big meeting that day. Harry offered to attend the meeting as his representative so that the whole family could spend some quality time doing what Mrs. Matthews liked to do best: going for a visit in Europe's most ancient museums.
Mr. Matthews wouldn't have had it, on account of Harry's already heavy load with College, but Harry liked the Matthews family so much, he himself saw to it that the private jet was ready and that the entrances to a lot of museums, the Louvre in Paris included, were purchased for a week-long stay.
Hastily finishing his breakfast, Harry took a look down at his wristwatch and announced he'd be leaving in ten minutes so that his limousine could be ready. Mr. Matthews walked him to the entrance.
"Don't worry Robert, I'll have the contract on the bag" assured Harry when Mr. Matthews sighed sadly as the limousine approached.
"It's not that what I'm worried about" answered the man, "actually, I would rather have you come with us."
"I know"
It had also been a large discussion, the issue of having Harry come with them to celebrate the Mrs., but he had fervently opposed, arguing that it had to be family time, and that no one could close that deal anyways, apart from Mr. Matthews or him. When Mr. Matthews finally suggested that the meeting be postponed, Harry nearly pretended to faint, since the subject that was to be discussed was of uttermost importance for their company.
The Wizard Software Co. was Mr. Matthews's multi-million company based at L.A. Harry was about to seal a deal for the company's branching in Europe, starting with England and he was rather keen on getting the whole thing off his shoulders, because it also meant that old Mr. Matthews was just a step closer to retirement.
Don't get any wrong ideas, though. Harry was not a crazed maniac who wanted the old man to retire so he could get his hands on the money. No, Harry couldn't care less about the money. Truth was, he really, and honestly, liked the family who took him in nearly five years ago when he was aimlessly wandering around the world with only dark thoughts to bear with. After working for him for a while, Harry became Mr. Matthews' favorite, as well as junior assistant in the company. Now, Harry was going to be the co-owner of the company, and all he wanted was to see the burden off Mr. Matthews' shoulders so he could spend more time resting along with his family.
"Well, I'm off. Have fun" said Harry making towards the waiting vehicle.
"Wait! Stop right there, don't let him go!"
A voice called from up the stairs and the sound of hurried steps could be heard from the inside. Harry turned around smiling and found a disheveled girl wrapped in a silk nightgown running towards him, past old man Matthews. She flung herself to the waiting young man, wrapped her arms around his neck and delivered a passionate kiss to his tender lips. Mr. Matthews discreetly looked elsewhere while quietly retreating.
"Well, isn't this a big surprise" mocked Harry with pure sarcasm, "what is the hibernating bear doing at this hour in the morning"
The girl tried, yet miserably failed, to look mad at his comment. All she could do was peck him on the tip of the nose.
"You were about to leave without saying goodbye," she said.
"No I wasn't" protested Harry, "I went by your bedroom to say goodbye but you just wouldn't wake up!"
"Liar…"
The couple smiled at each other once more before entwining their lips once more in one last kiss.
"Come with us" whispered the girl when she parted for some air.
"I can't…" whispered Harry back, "but I promise I'll miss you"
Harry smiled one last time at the pouting image he parted from and blew a sonorous kiss at the girl before boarding the limousine.
"Have fun Sammy!"
He never noticed, but a single tear ran down Samantha Matthews's cheek. Her still disheveled and clear, blond hair waving gently behind her with the morning breeze.
"Now, now my dear, don't be so sad" Mr. Matthews came from behind and put an arm around his daughter's shoulders.
"I'm sorry Daddy, I don't know why do I get so emotional sometimes" answered Samantha back while she whipped the tear away with the back of her pale hand.
"It's alright dear… Why don't we go inside and surprise Mom?"
"Okay"
As the limousine left the entrance behind, Harry turned and saw both father and daughter enter the mansion on a happier note than he'd left them with. Leaning back he drummed impatiently on his briefcase and got ready to spend the next fifteen minutes in there, while he got to the office.
His eyes, already heavy with sleep, closed and allowed Harry to get some of the rest he very much needed. Once the meeting was over he would make sure he got the hours of sleep he'd been neglecting for so long.
It was at the time when unconsciousness reaches the mind, that particular moment when one is neither awake nor asleep, that Harry found himself mentally recalling an image. It was a person, to be precise, an unknown somebody that still felt oddly familiar.
At first a blurry shadow, the outline of the stranger became clearer as Harry was falling deeper into the clutches of Morpheus. Pale-white skin became present, as well as clear, blond hair, and the eyes… grey eyes stared back at Harry, eyes full of some emotion Harry couldn't quite define… was it sorrow? Longing? Despair?
What was the meaning of that look?
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry woke abruptly, the image completely dissolving to be replaced by bright light that burned his eyes.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?"
"Yes…" Harry mumbled waving off whomever was speaking to him and noticed for the first time where he was.
Still inside the limousine, he had already arrived to the large building where his office was stationed, as well as the place where the meeting would take place. Apparently he had slept during the entire trip, and when the driver noticed he wouldn't get off, he personally had gone to check on his master. The old driver had found Harry peacefully slumbering, and really regretted that it had to be him the one to interrupt. But of course, if he hadn't woken Harry, the results would be worse, and there would be hell to pay.
Reluctantly, Harry left the warmth and comfort of the limousine and made his way towards the office, were the board would be probably waiting already. Allowing himself one last yawn in the empty elevator, he chanced one last thought at the dream he'd been having. He hadn't recognized the person standing there, but for some reason he felt like it was someone he ought to know better than anyone else.
The pale locks sent him wandering to his own girlfriend's hair. Samantha had hair the same color and skin just as the one in his dream. Yes… it must've been her… it had to be her, because if not, who else? Harry knew no one that shared such well-known features but her… or did he?
A soft ding announced that the destination had been finally reached, and the elevator doors opened. Harry put all thoughts out of his mind, except for those regarding the meeting he was about to have, and headed for the already waiting businessmen.
