Draco and the others didn't leave immediately. To be precise, Pansy and Hermione made no effort to urge Draco away from this place of trouble.
Anyone with half a brain could tell that Harry Potter's disappearance was no simple matter. And seeing the seriousness in Draco's expression made it even more obvious that this was something even he needed to treat with full gravity...
"What exactly do you mean by 'over there'? Aren't you going to explain it to me, Parkinson?"
"Are you sure you want to know? Draco has his reasons for not telling you, and I don't think knowing would do you any good."
"At a time like this, you're still hiding things? At the very least, I'm certain I can help. Can't I?"
"....."
Hermione's words might've sounded a bit arrogant, but Pansy couldn't deny she was right.
If she was the trustworthy executor at Draco's side, then Hermione was the strategist who could fill in the gaps.
If Hermione helped, Draco's burden would be lighter, wouldn't it?
The thought made Pansy's determination waver.
It had to be said: when it came to Draco, the little princess of the Parkinson family would set aside everything else to support him— even swallow her pride if needed. Even if the other person happened to be her romantic rival...
Draco glanced at the two girls who'd abruptly left him standing alone to whisper among themselves, but he didn't really mind. For some reason, a sense of unease had been lingering in his chest.
It felt like something terrible was about to happen...
Just then, the sound of rapid footsteps reached Draco's ears, coming from the direction they had arrived from. One set of footsteps in particular sounded especially frantic, like someone fleeing something terrifying.
A moment later, the figure appeared—Professor Snape, dressed in stark black.
"You! Why are you still here? Five points from Gryffindor!"
"....."
After glancing at Hermione—who looked seconds away from crying out of sheer exasperation—Draco's eye twitched as he looked at Snape, then at Igor Karkaroff standing stiffly beside him. Karkaroff was trying to maintain his composure, but his pale face betrayed him completely.
Could it be… the results were in?
Knowing his godfather, Snape would never leave the scene unless he'd personally seen Harry Potter safely return.
But from his expression, and from the way he'd deducted points purely to vent his frustration, Harry Potter was clearly still missing.
So why would Snape, who cared so deeply about Harry Potter, leave the scene early?
Unless...
Draco's gaze snapped toward Igor Karkaroff beside him.
Unless something even more important had happened.
...
It was after Snape and the others quietly slipped away from the scene that the situation shifted once more.
Snap.
A magical box rolled to the side, a wand slipped from its owner's grasp, and a human-shaped figure appeared without warning at everyone's feet.
In that instant, the wizards who had been arguing over the case froze with wide eyes.
Not because of anything else—but because Harry Potter had suddenly reappeared in front of them.
Was he… back?
[The bones of a father, given without intent, can bring your son back to life.]
[The flesh of a servant, offered willingly, can resurrect your master.]
[The blood of an enemy, taken by force, can revive your foe.]
His memory was blurred, yet these three sentences—and the motions that resembled brewing a potion—were burned into his mind like a brand. He could recite them word for word.
As for why, Harry Potter couldn't explain it.
What unsettled him most was the feeling that the other party had intentionally sent him back…
While Harry Potter drifted in and out of consciousness, the rising noise around him made him slowly open his eyes.
"Potter! Potter!"
"Harry!!!"
He shook his sluggish head. As he came back to himself, he noticed that at some point the sky had brightened again. The faint smell of something scorched didn't make him uncomfortable—instead, it gave him a sense of relief.
He had really escaped from that man.
The anxious yet joyful shouts beside him made Harry roll over and look up.
It was… Dumbledore, with his long white beard.
And at that moment, a wave of sound washed over him—voices, footsteps, shouting everywhere. The nightmare felt as though it had passed. Harry let out a long breath, and the sudden rush of safety made his eyes burn red.
"Head…master…"
Especially when he saw Dumbledore, the mix of fear, grievance, and the desperate need to speak welled up so suddenly that Harry couldn't form any words. His choked, raspy voice made Minerva McGonagall, who had rushed over, lift him up with teary eyes.
"It's all right, child. I'm here. You must have been frightened."
"Professor McGonagall."
Just as Minerva McGonagall was about to take Harry to the infirmary, a nearby wizard stepped forward and stopped them.
"I don't think Harry can leave yet."
"Dumbledore!?"
"In fact, Harry has something he needs to say, doesn't he?"
"But…"
Minerva McGonagall, in that moment, looked like a lioness provoked to fury. She didn't yield an inch, not even to Dumbledore.
To her, her student's well-being came before any truth.
But Harry clearly didn't agree. He pulled free of Professor McGonagall's support and rushed toward Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge in agitation.
His twisted, terrified expression startled the Minister of Magic.
"He's back! He used some unknown method to return!!"
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"Calm down, Harry. We're all here. No wizard can hurt you in front of us."
In truth, if not for the name that came from Harry's own mouth, Cornelius Fudge might not have stepped in to comfort him.
He might even have regretted letting Harry speak at all.
After all—
"He's back. Voldemort… has returned!!"
"....."
"....."
Silence.
Stillness.
And a cold dread rising from deep within their hearts...
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on P@treon.
[Upto 50 chapters ahead for now]
[email protected]/BlurryDream