Game Over
Chapter 3
Noename
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, sat behind his desk, laboring over the plans to overthrow Voldemort when two sharp knocks came behind his door. He looked up warmly, ready to welcome the student or Professor. He quickly and quietly closed the worn book, then reached under the desk and opened a secret compartment. He slid the book inside and folded his hands on the desk.
"Come in." The door swung open. His smile faded slightly, he was looking at Draco Malfoy.
"Sorry to disappoint you Professor, but it's important. May I come in?" The blonde waited, like he had been trained to do before entering his father's office.
"Yes, please do." Dumbledore gestured to the seat in front of his cluttered desk. Draco nodded, closed the door behind him, and made his way through the room filled with many different interesting things. Never glancing twice at anything, used to the strange things his father owned he sat himself in front of Dumbledore.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" Dumbledore inquired, moving some papers away in search for his candy. Every once and awhile he would glance up to look at Draco through his halfmoon spectacles, his long beard sweeping onto the floor.
"Its about Harry, sir." Draco laughed with mocking amusement as Dumbledore dropped a book he had been moving. Had he used his first name? And yet again, Harry? "Yes, I know. Its a surprising matter. It's not about how much I hate him, and that he needs to leave, or anything of the sort. It is about something that happened today in Charms. I found it strange, and Granger, Weasley, and Potter might be heading here as I speak." Draco stopped for breath, Dumbledore took it as an opportunity to speak.
"If it's not about a fight, then what could happen in Charms? And why are you coming to me, out of all people?" Dumbledore smiled in triumph, and pulled out a bag of Gummi Bears.
"He had a dream. I noticed he had dozed off, but didn't pay attention to it. Everybody falls asleep in the beginning of the school year. Soon, however, I heard someone mumbling, and they sounded angry. I turned to see if Weasley was trying to start a fight, when I realized the look of pure anguish and anger upon Potter's face. He sounded like he was yelling that someone was dead, and that it couldn't be real. Then he looked dubious. Soon he looked frightened, and he was falling onto the floor, shouting Sirius at the top of his lungs." Draco noticed he hadn't even taken in what Dumbledore was doing. He was too emersed in the story, trying to piece everything together.
The old man was eating the gummi bears, brows furrowed, a small smile flickering on and off his wrinkled, bearded face. Wisdom shone brightly in the brilliant eyes of love, and twinkling joy.
"And then he shouted; Damn you Voldemort."
The change in the Headmaster was incredible. His twinkle was redused to a dull shine, like unpolished gold. He choked on his gummi bear and swallowed. He glared at Draco in suspicion that did not suit him, and turned his attention to the note Draco handed to him. Taking it he glanced up at the teenager. He had changed considerably. His manners had certainly shown through towards his teachers. He not only was polite to his father, but now used the manners with his other elders.
"Excuse me?" Draco began. "May I excuse myself? I have to get to class." The Headmaster nodded and Draco stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.
After making sure it was securely shut he spun on his heel, ready to dash down the spiral staircase he came up when he ran straight into Weasley.
"Watch where you're going, Malfoy!" Ron snapped irritably, picking up the books, quills, parchment, and papers that had flown every which way. With a flick of her wand Hermione had all of them in her hands.
"Watch your tongue, it's about to get ripped out." Draco snapped. He had no time for this now, he wanted to speak with Pansy.
"Just because you're rich, and your dad's got connections with almost everything, including death eaters doesn't give you a right to push everybody else around." Ron replied angrily.
"And, just because your family is poor, doesn't mean I have to treat you any differently then I do everybody else!" Draco shouted angrily. If Dumbledore was hearing this he really didn't seem to care.
"Come on Ron, its not worth the trouble." Hermione cut in before it got ugly. She began to make towards the door when Harry stopped her.
"Maybe it is." The raven haired boy mumbled in wonderment that morphed into loathing. "After all we all know he came here to tell Dumbledore I'm a disturbed freak." Hermione sighed in exasperation and made a grab for her friend, but he snapped his arm away from her. "Isn't it?"
Harry wasn't sure what had come over him, but he suddenly wanted to beat on Malfoy. The perfect chiseled face, the arrogance, superior attitude, and the sexy body made him want to hurt him. The look in his eyes. Harry popped back into reality. What the fuck was he thinking?! He did not just think that Draco was sexy. No! He was a guy, he wasn't supposed to like other guy's. He was the golden boy, the boy who lived! He couldn't afford it even if it were true.
"No, Potter. It wasn't. I might just have to go back in there and tell him you are, now that you've decided to become an accusing prick." Draco began to make his way down the stairs when Hermione stopped him.
"You were just the same, Malfoy!" Hermione hissed angrily. She indicated with a slight jerk of her head that Harry and Ron weren't going to wait much longer to kill him. He sneered, and soon all they could hear were the thumping of his dockers against the stone.
"Yes, Hermione. Don't start fights." Ron grumbled. Hermione shot him a look that read; 'I did it for you guys,' and extended her hand towards the door. Her knuckles rapped on the door, and her soft fingers fell to her side. Soon they had found Ron's hand.
Footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door, it opened. They were greeted by a warm gaze, and a long flowing bearded man.
"Gummi bear?" He asked, holding out the bag delightedly. Hermione took one, Harry did also, Ron eyed them, sniffed them, and finally refused.
"Please do come in," Dumbledore motioned with his hand. "I daresay I wasn't expecting you three to show up after Malfoy. What do you need?" He sat himself down behind his desk, and put the tips of his fingers together.
The Dream Team, as they used to be known as, looked at each other, and turned from his desk.
"What are we supposed to be telling him?" Ron asked worriedly. "You didn't even tell us why we're coming here."
"To tell Dumbledore about Harry's dream." Hermione responded in a 'duh' sort of tone.
"I don't even want to tell him. What's the point? What the hell is the almighty Dumbledore going to do for a nightmare? Give me a teddy bear, a kiss on the forehead and a glass of water?" Harry snapped angrily. Hermione always had to act like they had to tell the old man everything, like he was an information base.
Ron stifled back large fits of laughter, and Hermione shot him a look.
"Look, Harry. I know I usually say we should tell Dumbledore, but whenever I do, I turn out to be right. Whenever I say we should, we never do. We find it would've been better if we had."
Harry looked at her for long moments before Ron cut in;
"Does this mean that we're telling him?"
"Not for sure." Harry replied, smoldering.
"You're telling him, that's the end of the line!" Hermione snapped softly so Dumbledore couldn't hear.
"Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?" The Headmaster asked worriedly. The two friends looked at their leader in expectancy.
He eyed the two seats, and began to settle in. Harry on the left, Hermione on Ron's lap on the right. The three sighed, and Harry began.
He told them all about the dream. Every detail he could remember. All the emotions, feelings, senses, all he had picked up. Every word, every thought, and everything anyone had done. When he had finished Dumbledore observed him silently for a few moments, and finally began.
"Well, its just as Sirius tells you." Dumbledore sat back in the chair, and recognized the pale, pained face. One that has suffered a great loss. He had seen that face when Harry had talked to him before smashing the silver instruments and table. He knew that if he wasn't careful, his best student, no, his friend, would be likely to smash either Hermione or Ron's head into the table.
"Sirius is dead!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet. Hermione paled, bit her lip, and a tear slid down her soft, slightly tanned cheek. Dumbledore feared as much. Ron stood, and let Hermione take his place on the red chair.
"Harry's right, but still. What else could it be?" Ron had said something Hermione agreed about, and she nodded apprehensively. He turned, and pulled Hermione to her feet.
"I'm not sure about you, but I don't believe in anything unless I can see, or feel it." He smiled softly.
"Which is almost never, since you never pay attention to your surroundings." Harry muttered through gritted teeth.
"Harry is right, but at the same time he is completely wrong." Dumbledore stated simply. "Sirius is dead in body, but in soul he can still speak to us. Through dreams and visions. You just witnessed what you thought of when you saw him die. He was trying to save you from the depths of the water, and they took him instead. He had fought for you, Remus had been torn. His lover defending them, while they made their way safely across to save the prophecy." Dumbledore paused, observing them.
"I want all three of you to keep a dream journal. Write down all the details, every little bit of the dream. In these three notebooks." Dumbledore conjured three notebooks, a red, blue, and green. Hermione grabbed them and shoved them into her bag.
"Why do we have to?" Ron's brow's furrowed in wonderment, but it was not the headmaster that answered.
"Because, Sirius might try to contact any one of us, in some sort of way. We all have our close memories with him." Hermione looked up at Dumbledore, who smiled. "Do you think everybody else in the Order should to? I'm sure they all have memories of him, good and bad. They could all have a different view on every single one of them."
"Thats a good idea. I think I'll issue out some letters tonight. Every Weasley, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Mundungus, and even Snape will have to keep a journal. This might be a way to bring him back." All four stood, and the three students were directed from the classroom.
The wooden door shut with a dull thud, and Dumbledore reached into his pocket. There was the letter. It was a piece of parchment, folded into fourths, and sealed with the Malfoy crest. He peeled it open, and unfolded the letter carefully. Making sure not to rip it. When he finally had opened it, he began to read. His eyes passed quickly over the beautiful, flowing handwriting of his Slytherin pupil. He folded the letter gravely, and tucked it safe into the inside pocket of his robes.
~Headmaster, Dumbledore-
First and foremostly, I am not a spy! I have learned over many years that my father is an ignominous prick. I wish to help you in any way I can. I'd risk my life to kill Voldemort, espeacially after seeing the fear on Potter's face. That is why I'm writing this letter.
Enclosed in this letter are two spells that I've thought of. I give you my permission to use them on myself. As long as I know when. As long as I know and Potter knows I would be glad to use them, no matter what the danger's.
There is a spell, that I do hope you know about. It enables the two the spell is cast upon to communicate through thoughts, and feelings. Even switch positions. This could come in handy. You can also exchange memories. Sometimes not on your free will. The other can pluck it from you like pulling a blade of grass from the ground on a spring day. That is the only part of this spell that would discomfort me. I'm sure there is a way around it.
For example, if I were in Harry's body, and he in mine, then if they killed Harry's body it would be killing me instead. It would be sending me back to my body two hours later, and him into his own. This way it gives them enough time to set him in some sort of mocherary, he could break out, everything would be okay, but it would only be able to work like that once. Unless you can find someone else to be the next to die.
There is also another spell that I thought might help. I found it in one of my father's restricted books. It's a spell that can enable one to die in place of another. I could die, and Sirius could come back into the world. As a ghost, or human form.
I do hope you consider helping you with this. I do mean well, I despise my father. I have ever since I was 9.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy.~
The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry warily sank back into his chair, pulled out his plan book, and began to work on the layouts to bring down Voldemort.
Chapter 3
Noename
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, sat behind his desk, laboring over the plans to overthrow Voldemort when two sharp knocks came behind his door. He looked up warmly, ready to welcome the student or Professor. He quickly and quietly closed the worn book, then reached under the desk and opened a secret compartment. He slid the book inside and folded his hands on the desk.
"Come in." The door swung open. His smile faded slightly, he was looking at Draco Malfoy.
"Sorry to disappoint you Professor, but it's important. May I come in?" The blonde waited, like he had been trained to do before entering his father's office.
"Yes, please do." Dumbledore gestured to the seat in front of his cluttered desk. Draco nodded, closed the door behind him, and made his way through the room filled with many different interesting things. Never glancing twice at anything, used to the strange things his father owned he sat himself in front of Dumbledore.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" Dumbledore inquired, moving some papers away in search for his candy. Every once and awhile he would glance up to look at Draco through his halfmoon spectacles, his long beard sweeping onto the floor.
"Its about Harry, sir." Draco laughed with mocking amusement as Dumbledore dropped a book he had been moving. Had he used his first name? And yet again, Harry? "Yes, I know. Its a surprising matter. It's not about how much I hate him, and that he needs to leave, or anything of the sort. It is about something that happened today in Charms. I found it strange, and Granger, Weasley, and Potter might be heading here as I speak." Draco stopped for breath, Dumbledore took it as an opportunity to speak.
"If it's not about a fight, then what could happen in Charms? And why are you coming to me, out of all people?" Dumbledore smiled in triumph, and pulled out a bag of Gummi Bears.
"He had a dream. I noticed he had dozed off, but didn't pay attention to it. Everybody falls asleep in the beginning of the school year. Soon, however, I heard someone mumbling, and they sounded angry. I turned to see if Weasley was trying to start a fight, when I realized the look of pure anguish and anger upon Potter's face. He sounded like he was yelling that someone was dead, and that it couldn't be real. Then he looked dubious. Soon he looked frightened, and he was falling onto the floor, shouting Sirius at the top of his lungs." Draco noticed he hadn't even taken in what Dumbledore was doing. He was too emersed in the story, trying to piece everything together.
The old man was eating the gummi bears, brows furrowed, a small smile flickering on and off his wrinkled, bearded face. Wisdom shone brightly in the brilliant eyes of love, and twinkling joy.
"And then he shouted; Damn you Voldemort."
The change in the Headmaster was incredible. His twinkle was redused to a dull shine, like unpolished gold. He choked on his gummi bear and swallowed. He glared at Draco in suspicion that did not suit him, and turned his attention to the note Draco handed to him. Taking it he glanced up at the teenager. He had changed considerably. His manners had certainly shown through towards his teachers. He not only was polite to his father, but now used the manners with his other elders.
"Excuse me?" Draco began. "May I excuse myself? I have to get to class." The Headmaster nodded and Draco stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.
After making sure it was securely shut he spun on his heel, ready to dash down the spiral staircase he came up when he ran straight into Weasley.
"Watch where you're going, Malfoy!" Ron snapped irritably, picking up the books, quills, parchment, and papers that had flown every which way. With a flick of her wand Hermione had all of them in her hands.
"Watch your tongue, it's about to get ripped out." Draco snapped. He had no time for this now, he wanted to speak with Pansy.
"Just because you're rich, and your dad's got connections with almost everything, including death eaters doesn't give you a right to push everybody else around." Ron replied angrily.
"And, just because your family is poor, doesn't mean I have to treat you any differently then I do everybody else!" Draco shouted angrily. If Dumbledore was hearing this he really didn't seem to care.
"Come on Ron, its not worth the trouble." Hermione cut in before it got ugly. She began to make towards the door when Harry stopped her.
"Maybe it is." The raven haired boy mumbled in wonderment that morphed into loathing. "After all we all know he came here to tell Dumbledore I'm a disturbed freak." Hermione sighed in exasperation and made a grab for her friend, but he snapped his arm away from her. "Isn't it?"
Harry wasn't sure what had come over him, but he suddenly wanted to beat on Malfoy. The perfect chiseled face, the arrogance, superior attitude, and the sexy body made him want to hurt him. The look in his eyes. Harry popped back into reality. What the fuck was he thinking?! He did not just think that Draco was sexy. No! He was a guy, he wasn't supposed to like other guy's. He was the golden boy, the boy who lived! He couldn't afford it even if it were true.
"No, Potter. It wasn't. I might just have to go back in there and tell him you are, now that you've decided to become an accusing prick." Draco began to make his way down the stairs when Hermione stopped him.
"You were just the same, Malfoy!" Hermione hissed angrily. She indicated with a slight jerk of her head that Harry and Ron weren't going to wait much longer to kill him. He sneered, and soon all they could hear were the thumping of his dockers against the stone.
"Yes, Hermione. Don't start fights." Ron grumbled. Hermione shot him a look that read; 'I did it for you guys,' and extended her hand towards the door. Her knuckles rapped on the door, and her soft fingers fell to her side. Soon they had found Ron's hand.
Footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door, it opened. They were greeted by a warm gaze, and a long flowing bearded man.
"Gummi bear?" He asked, holding out the bag delightedly. Hermione took one, Harry did also, Ron eyed them, sniffed them, and finally refused.
"Please do come in," Dumbledore motioned with his hand. "I daresay I wasn't expecting you three to show up after Malfoy. What do you need?" He sat himself down behind his desk, and put the tips of his fingers together.
The Dream Team, as they used to be known as, looked at each other, and turned from his desk.
"What are we supposed to be telling him?" Ron asked worriedly. "You didn't even tell us why we're coming here."
"To tell Dumbledore about Harry's dream." Hermione responded in a 'duh' sort of tone.
"I don't even want to tell him. What's the point? What the hell is the almighty Dumbledore going to do for a nightmare? Give me a teddy bear, a kiss on the forehead and a glass of water?" Harry snapped angrily. Hermione always had to act like they had to tell the old man everything, like he was an information base.
Ron stifled back large fits of laughter, and Hermione shot him a look.
"Look, Harry. I know I usually say we should tell Dumbledore, but whenever I do, I turn out to be right. Whenever I say we should, we never do. We find it would've been better if we had."
Harry looked at her for long moments before Ron cut in;
"Does this mean that we're telling him?"
"Not for sure." Harry replied, smoldering.
"You're telling him, that's the end of the line!" Hermione snapped softly so Dumbledore couldn't hear.
"Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?" The Headmaster asked worriedly. The two friends looked at their leader in expectancy.
He eyed the two seats, and began to settle in. Harry on the left, Hermione on Ron's lap on the right. The three sighed, and Harry began.
He told them all about the dream. Every detail he could remember. All the emotions, feelings, senses, all he had picked up. Every word, every thought, and everything anyone had done. When he had finished Dumbledore observed him silently for a few moments, and finally began.
"Well, its just as Sirius tells you." Dumbledore sat back in the chair, and recognized the pale, pained face. One that has suffered a great loss. He had seen that face when Harry had talked to him before smashing the silver instruments and table. He knew that if he wasn't careful, his best student, no, his friend, would be likely to smash either Hermione or Ron's head into the table.
"Sirius is dead!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet. Hermione paled, bit her lip, and a tear slid down her soft, slightly tanned cheek. Dumbledore feared as much. Ron stood, and let Hermione take his place on the red chair.
"Harry's right, but still. What else could it be?" Ron had said something Hermione agreed about, and she nodded apprehensively. He turned, and pulled Hermione to her feet.
"I'm not sure about you, but I don't believe in anything unless I can see, or feel it." He smiled softly.
"Which is almost never, since you never pay attention to your surroundings." Harry muttered through gritted teeth.
"Harry is right, but at the same time he is completely wrong." Dumbledore stated simply. "Sirius is dead in body, but in soul he can still speak to us. Through dreams and visions. You just witnessed what you thought of when you saw him die. He was trying to save you from the depths of the water, and they took him instead. He had fought for you, Remus had been torn. His lover defending them, while they made their way safely across to save the prophecy." Dumbledore paused, observing them.
"I want all three of you to keep a dream journal. Write down all the details, every little bit of the dream. In these three notebooks." Dumbledore conjured three notebooks, a red, blue, and green. Hermione grabbed them and shoved them into her bag.
"Why do we have to?" Ron's brow's furrowed in wonderment, but it was not the headmaster that answered.
"Because, Sirius might try to contact any one of us, in some sort of way. We all have our close memories with him." Hermione looked up at Dumbledore, who smiled. "Do you think everybody else in the Order should to? I'm sure they all have memories of him, good and bad. They could all have a different view on every single one of them."
"Thats a good idea. I think I'll issue out some letters tonight. Every Weasley, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Mundungus, and even Snape will have to keep a journal. This might be a way to bring him back." All four stood, and the three students were directed from the classroom.
The wooden door shut with a dull thud, and Dumbledore reached into his pocket. There was the letter. It was a piece of parchment, folded into fourths, and sealed with the Malfoy crest. He peeled it open, and unfolded the letter carefully. Making sure not to rip it. When he finally had opened it, he began to read. His eyes passed quickly over the beautiful, flowing handwriting of his Slytherin pupil. He folded the letter gravely, and tucked it safe into the inside pocket of his robes.
~Headmaster, Dumbledore-
First and foremostly, I am not a spy! I have learned over many years that my father is an ignominous prick. I wish to help you in any way I can. I'd risk my life to kill Voldemort, espeacially after seeing the fear on Potter's face. That is why I'm writing this letter.
Enclosed in this letter are two spells that I've thought of. I give you my permission to use them on myself. As long as I know when. As long as I know and Potter knows I would be glad to use them, no matter what the danger's.
There is a spell, that I do hope you know about. It enables the two the spell is cast upon to communicate through thoughts, and feelings. Even switch positions. This could come in handy. You can also exchange memories. Sometimes not on your free will. The other can pluck it from you like pulling a blade of grass from the ground on a spring day. That is the only part of this spell that would discomfort me. I'm sure there is a way around it.
For example, if I were in Harry's body, and he in mine, then if they killed Harry's body it would be killing me instead. It would be sending me back to my body two hours later, and him into his own. This way it gives them enough time to set him in some sort of mocherary, he could break out, everything would be okay, but it would only be able to work like that once. Unless you can find someone else to be the next to die.
There is also another spell that I thought might help. I found it in one of my father's restricted books. It's a spell that can enable one to die in place of another. I could die, and Sirius could come back into the world. As a ghost, or human form.
I do hope you consider helping you with this. I do mean well, I despise my father. I have ever since I was 9.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy.~
The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry warily sank back into his chair, pulled out his plan book, and began to work on the layouts to bring down Voldemort.