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The first time he heard the news, Draco couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. Harry Potter is dead. It was whispered in the great hall during breakfast, word passing from one student to the next. Draco scoffed and ignored it. Someone had obviously put the rumour out there because Potter hadn’t shown up to breakfast. In fact, he hadn’t seen Potter since their history of magic O.W.L. yesterday, when the Gryffindor had broken down and been escorted out of the room. No wonder people were making up stories. It had been a rather dramatic exit. But Draco was sure that Potter was fine. He was probably still in the hospital wing, being fussed over by madam Pomfrey.

The rumour kept spreading as the day wore on, becoming more outrageous every time Draco heard it. Potter had gotten kidnapped and died trying to escape. Potter had run away to fight the dark lord and gotten killed. Potter had been assassinated in his own room here at Hogwarts. Draco noticed Pansy eyeing him worriedly and smiled, still not believing it. Potter wasn’t the only one missing that day. He had yet to glimpse any member of the golden trio. Maybe they’d had one of their usual escapades and were now all in the hospital wing, he figured. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But then dinner rolled around and once everyone was seated, Dumbledore got up to address the students, his face grave. Draco felt his stomach drop. No, it couldn’t be true. The old headmaster would tell them something else. Anything else. Please, let it be anything else, he thought desperately.

“I’m sure you have already heard the rumours.” Dumbledore began. “And I’m sorry to confirm that they are true. Harry Potter has indeed passed on yesterday.”

There was a chorus of groans, screams and cries from the students. Dumbledore held up his hand to quiet them down. He continued talking, claiming some nonsense about a tragic accident, but Draco barely heard the words. His head was filled with static. Again he could feel Pansy’s worried gaze on himself, but felt unable to placate her. It was all he could do to just sit there and keep quiet, while everything inside him shattered. It was only the years of lessons in decorum, drilled into him by his father from the moment he was able to walk, that helped him get through dinner. He pushed the food around on his plate listlessly, glad when they were finally allowed to get up and leave.

The walk back down to the dungeons was a blur. Draco was vaguely aware of Pansy and Theo flanking him, while Crabbe and Goyle brought up the rear. Somehow they made it back to the dorms without anyone approaching them. Draco could only guess that his friends were shielding him. Blaise or Daphne had probably created a diversion or something. He held his head high and made sure that his face didn’t betray any emotion. Only when he was safely in his own room, alone with Pansy, did he allow the façade to crumble. Pansy didn’t say a word. She merely pulled him into her arms and held him while he sobbed.

***

Once the initial shock had worn off, Draco felt mostly numb. He went about his day as usual, pretending that everything was fine. His friends kept giving him worried glances when they thought he wasn’t looking, but otherwise left him alone. Even Pansy only told him that she was there should he need her.

They knew that Harry and he had become something akin to friends this year. Draco had run into the Gryffindor on his own shortly after the start of term. Life had changed drastically for both of them during the summer, so instead of taunting each other or starting a fight like they usually did, they had tried something different for a change. They had talked. And it had been… nice. Once Draco had overcome the bitterness of Harry rebuffing him back in first year, he’d realized that the other boy was surprisingly easy to talk to. And that they actually had quite a few things in common. Over the course of the next couple of weeks they had continued to run into each other by chance. Though Draco had soon started doubting that their meetings were really unplanned. Harry always seemed to know where to find him when he was on his own. Or how to make sure that Draco ran into him when he was alone.

Draco didn’t know if Harry had ever told his friends. He doubted it somehow. They hadn’t discussed it, but for some reason they only ever talked freely when it was just the two of them. Whenever Draco ran into the whole golden trio, Harry would barely glance at him before dragging his friends the other way. When Draco was surrounded by the other Slytherins, Harry would give him a wide berth. Draco for his part didn’t see any reason to act differently towards Weasley and Granger. It would have only aroused suspicion and that was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t afford for people to get suspicious of him. Not with the dark lord living in his home. But he had told his friends. Well, he’d told them about talking to Harry and them becoming friendly. Only Pansy knew the details.

But all that didn’t matter any longer. Because Harry was no longer here. There would be no more secret meetings. No more talks.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed drastically. It was as if Harry’s death had sucked the happiness out of everything. People were quiet and sombre. More than a few kept openly crying. Granger and Weasley returned, both looking like death warmed over. They stuck close to each other and avoided almost everyone else. A lot of students tried to approach them, probably wanting to know what exactly had happened, since Dumbledore had been rather vague in his explanation. But they were always quickly shooed off by Longbottom and the she-weasel, who were both surprisingly fierce in their protectiveness.

The Daily Prophet printed a series of articles. Of course Harry’s death made the headlines. Along with the fact that Fudge finally had to admit that Voldemort was back. But even the prophet didn’t seem to know the details of Harry’s death. Or maybe Fudge just didn’t want people to know. Both seemed equally plausible. Draco was almost glad when the school year ended only a few days later. Dumbledore let them go with a lot of warnings and platitudes about doing the right thing. Choosing the right side. As if people like Draco even had a choice.

He returned to the manor, which no longer felt like home. His mother picked him up from the station, paler than he’d ever seen her. Only a shadow of the beautiful woman she’d been. “Be careful.” she warned. “Keep your head down. Try not to attract his attention.”

Dinner that night was a horrible affair. Voldemort sat at the head of the table, as if he owned the manor and not the Malfoys. Lucius sat to his left, preening at the attention the dark lord was giving him. Like a puppy wanting to please his master, Draco thought snidely. On his right was Bellatrix, who gleefully told her nephew how exactly Potter had died.

They had lured him to the ministry of magic, he learned. Voldemort had somehow made him believe that his godfather was being held captive there and of course Harry had rushed off to save him, stupid, reckless, brave Gryffindor that he was. There had been a fight. Death eaters against Harry and his friends. Bellatrix didn’t say it, but Draco could read between the lines. Those kids had given them a harder time than they’d expected. Then members of the order of the phoenix had arrived and joined the fray. Bellatrix had duelled Sirius Black and sent him toppling through some sort of veiled archway. And Harry had jumped in right after him.

The death eaters gathered at the table laughed and started joking around. Draco however continued to stare at his mad aunt. A veiled archway? That was it? They had fallen through a veiled archway and now everyone thought they were dead?

“The veil is a door to the otherworld. A direct way to death.” Voldemort hissed.
Draco shuddered, realizing that the dark lord had guessed his thoughts. Quickly he schooled his expression and strengthened his occlumency shields. “So he’s really dead?”
“Yes, the boy who lived is now dead.”
“Good.” Draco forced a smile to his face.
The dark lord nodded in satisfaction and turned his focus to Bellatrix, who had now started re-enacting the scene of Sirius falling through the veil, to the amusement of the other death eaters.

***

Draco lay awake a long time that night, thinking over everything he’d learned. Slowly an idea was starting to form in his head. A very dangerous idea. What if the dark lord was wrong? What if that veil wasn’t a portal to the otherworld? What if Harry wasn’t really dead? If anyone could cheat death, it would be Harry bloody Potter. It was utter madness. Draco was very aware of that. But he just had to know for sure. He had to be certain.

So the next day he went to the manor library and started looking for information on that veiled archway. He spent the next couple of days doing research, which also had the advantage of hiding him from Voldemort’s prying gaze. His mother peeked in sometimes, giving him worried looks but never saying a word. Draco had the niggling suspicion that she knew what he was doing. But if she wasn’t going to address the matter, then he wouldn’t either.

To his great frustration the manor library didn’t yield any useful information. And he didn’t dare to order some books from Flourish & Blotts, scared of anyone finding out what he was up to. He could’ve slipped into the shop and bought the books himself, but he wasn’t allowed to leave the manor. His mother was very adamant that he had to keep his head down, so he wouldn’t attract the dark lord’s attention. In the end Draco resigned himself to postponing his research until he was back at Hogwarts. Maybe he could find something in the library there. Or maybe he could get some books when he went to buy his school things. They would have to let him out then, he reasoned.

It was the worst summer of his life so far. He’d thought the last one had been bad, with the dark lord freshly returned and taking over the manor. But this was even worse. Last year the dark lord had to lay low. Now everyone knew that he was back. Since hiding was no longer an option, he seemed determined to cause as much chaos and destruction as possible. Death eaters were coming and going all day, delivering reports and receiving new orders. Draco wasn’t allowed any visitors or even floo-calls. He mostly stayed in his room, careful to keep out of everyone’s way.

Still he couldn’t help but hear the whispers and see the fear in his mother’s eyes. He knew that the dark lord had plans for him. So he wasn’t overly surprised when he was called to attend a meeting one day. Voldemort let him know that he’d chosen him for an important task. That Draco was supposed to receive the dark mark before he returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year. Draco looked at his father, who wouldn’t meet his eyes and only claimed that it was an honour. He wouldn’t help him, Draco realized. He would merely stand by and watch while he was forced into the dark lord’s service. And he resented Lucius for it. Resented him for his cowardice.

At least his mother tried to argue, pointing out that Draco was too young. Not even of age yet. That he hadn’t even completed school. But her words fell on deaf ears. Voldemort wouldn’t be swayed. Draco was almost resigned to his fate when his godfather stepped in.

“If I may offer advice, my lord… I believe Draco would be a lot more inconspicuous if he didn’t take the mark just yet. He would not always be able to hide it, you see. And if people knew that he is working on your orders, they might try to stop him. Why don’t you let him perform the task without giving him the mark? Let him prove his loyalty first. Let him prove that he is worthy of joining our ranks.”

Draco held his breath, hardly daring to hope, while Voldemort seemed to think about it.

“You are right, Severus.” he hissed finally. “Young Draco will receive the mark once he has proven his worth.”

He was dismissed then and that was that. Draco knew that he wasn’t safe yet. He’d merely gained some time. The dark lord expected him to fix a broken vanishing cabinet that was hidden in a secret room at Hogwarts. It was connected to a similar one at Borgin & Burkes. Once it was repaired, Draco was supposed to inform him, so he could use it to smuggle death eaters into the school. Draco felt sick just thinking of it.

His whole life was spiralling out of control and still the only thing he could think of at night was Harry. He knew that he should try to find a way to escape the dark lord’s grasp or even fix that bloody cabinet, instead of researching that stupid veil. But maybe… maybe if he managed to bring Harry back, everything else would fall into place. They called Harry the chosen one. People believed that it would have been his destiny to defeat Voldemort. So maybe bringing him back would be enough. Maybe he could save himself by saving Harry. At least that’s what Draco kept telling himself.

At the end of August he was finally allowed to leave the manor, at least for a few hours. His mother took him to Diagon Alley to buy his school things. He was shocked how much things had changed while he’d been locked up at home. The once busy street was almost unrecognizable. Shops were boarded up. People kept hurrying along, as if daring to stop for a chat would make them an easy target. He could see fear in their eyes. Wariness in the way they looked at each other, probably wondering if there were death eaters among them.

Not wanting to attract attention, Narcissa and he too rushed from one shop to the next, not even stopping for a snack as they would usually do. Draco took his clues from his mother and didn’t dawdle. It was only when they entered Flourish & Blotts that he strayed from her side. While she bought his school books, he ventured deeper into the shop. His mother finally found him in a dark corner.

“I was looking for books that might help me with fixing the cabinet.” he claimed, holding up the book he’d picked to support his lie.

Of course she wasn’t fooled. She knew him too well. Her eyes immediately zoomed in on the other book he was holding. Even if she couldn’t read the title at that angle, Draco was sure she knew what it was about. Her face betrayed an array of emotions, before she schooled her features back into the expressionless mask she was used to wearing in public. The same mask Draco had perfected at the age of ten.

“You have to be careful, Draco.” she whispered.
“I know.”
“You cannot…”
“I know, mother.”

They stared at each other silently for a moment. Draco knew that he had to ask. If he didn’t do it now, he might not get another chance. There was no-one nearby who could overhear them and yet he leaned closer to his mother and whispered so softly it was barely audible.

“If I were to find a way out for us… would you leave with me?”

Her eyes widened. She looked torn and Draco could guess what she was thinking. His father would never defect. He was too loyal to the dark lord. He was in too deep. Draco could never ask him the same question. It pained him, knowing that his father and he might end up on opposing sides in the war that was brewing. But if Lucius had taught him one thing, it was to always look out for himself. Narcissa’s lips pressed into a thin line. She nodded once. It was all the reassurance Draco needed. He would leave his father behind if he had to, but not his mother. Never his mother.

She didn’t comment as she paid for his books and they also didn’t talk about it again. When she took him to King’s Cross a few days later, she hugged him like she always did before he boarded the Hogwarts Express. Only this time she whispered another warning to be careful into his ear.

***

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was even gloomier than it had been at the end of the last school year. Even the sorting hat warned of the dangers that lay ahead. The welcome feast was lacking the usual cheer. Everyone was subdued. The empty spot at the Gryffindor table, where Harry used to sit, was all too prominent to ignore.

Draco was happy to see his friends again. Happy to finally be out of the manor and away from Voldemort’s grasp. But he knew that even at Hogwarts he wasn’t really safe. The Slytherins from his year were all on his side. A lot of them had death eater parents like him. But like him they didn’t share their parents’ beliefs. Draco knew that he could be honest with them. It was another thing with the rest of his house. You could never know who supported the dark lord and who didn’t, so he had to be careful. He wouldn’t put it past Voldemort to have some other student watching him. He knew that he at least had to make it look like he was working on that bloody cabinet.

Getting into the room of requirement was easier than he’d anticipated. Once inside he had to look around in awe. It took him some time to locate the vanishing cabinet among the rows upon rows of stuff. And when he finally found it, he just stood in front of it, staring at the thing in puzzlement. He had no idea how he was supposed to fix it. Truth be told, he didn’t want to fix it. After a while he turned away and started exploring the room instead. He was sure that no-one had followed him inside. Which meant that no-one would know what exactly he was doing in here. For now it would be enough to spend some time in this room every day, to make it look as if he was working on his task. It would also give him time to think and hopefully come up with a plan that would get his mother and him out of Voldemort’s clutches.

***

Unfortunately Draco didn’t manage to come up with anything during the next two weeks. He spent hours in the room of requirement, just wandering around and looking at stuff, but inspiration didn’t strike. He could ask Dumbledore for help, he figured. But that would mean exchanging one master for the next. And in his opinion Dumbledore was only marginally better than Voldemort. His thoughts always kept straying back to Harry. If Harry was still here, he might be able to help.

With that thought in mind Draco took up his research of the veil again. The Hogwarts library didn’t have any books on the subject and the one book he’d gotten at Flourish & Blotts wasn’t exactly helpful either. In the end it was the room of requirement that helped him. Once Draco figured out how exactly the room worked, it was easy to wish for a different version. Instead of the room where people had hidden objects since the founding of the school (judging by the size and sheer number of items), Draco now spent his time in a cosy library, filled with all the books he needed. And finally he made progress.

What the dark lord had called the veil was in fact an old artefact named the Arc. It had been fabricated by a group of alchemist hundreds of years ago. And it was indeed a portal to the otherworld. The world of the dead. Or rather, it was a link to the portal to the otherworld. For the real portal was located on the Isle of the Blessed.

Draco knew the stories, like any wizarding child. The Isle of the Blessed, also known as Avalon, supposedly the heart of magic in Britain, was a sacred site. Probably the most sacred of all. It could only be accessed through a special portal in Glastonbury. And only very few people were allowed to access it. You needed a special permission from the ministry, which was only granted about once every hundred years or so.

It hadn’t always been like that. In the times of the old religion people had celebrated Beltane, Lughnasad and Samhain there. But as time moved on and the wizarding world lost touch with the old religion, the festivities stopped. Today Avalon was mostly a myth. Most wizards and witches didn’t even believe in its existence anymore.

The Arc must have been created shortly before the celebrations on the Isle of the Blessed were abandoned. It had originally been used by necromancers, Draco found out. They used it to try and bring back the dead. But even with the Arc the dead could not return for good. They could only be summoned for a short while, before fading away again. Which did not sound promising. Draco actually thought about giving up. Everyone had accepted Harry’s death. Even his friends. Why shouldn’t he accept it, too?

But then he found a report that changed everything. It was written by a woman who had dedicated her life to studying the Arc. She had even gone so far as to step through it. Her memories of the other side were only vaguely mentioned. Something about talking to her dead ancestors and the like. But the important thing was that she had returned from her venture into the otherworld to tell the tale. Stepping through the Arc hadn’t killed her. She described it as being in a space between life and death. And she also described in vivid detail how her mother had managed to bring her back.

Draco read the report again and again, an idea forming in his head. It wouldn’t be easy. In fact, it would be bloody fucking difficult and most likely mean breaking a few laws. And he would need help. But he was sure that he could do it. He could bring Harry back. He only had to find the courage to actually do it.

***

“Pansy, I need your help.”

Another week had gone by. Draco had spent it plotting and planning, doubting himself and his choices. Now he’d made up his mind. There was no going back.

“What do you need?” Pansy asked.
“I’m going to be absent tomorrow. Probably all day. Can you make sure no-one takes notice?”
She looked at him worriedly. “What are you up to, Draco?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“You’re not planning to do something dangerous, are you?”

He simply couldn’t lie to her. “I’m afraid, I am. Dangerous and reckless and utterly stupid.”
“Oh, Draco…”
“Pansy, please. I know I’m asking a lot.”
“Damn right, you are! You really expect me to cover for you and then spend all day worrying, you arse?!”
“You don’t have to worry. I’ve got it all planned out.”
“You’ve got what planned out?”
“Like I said, it’s better if you don’t know. Please, Pansy. You’re the only one I can trust with this.”
“Fine.” she gave in with a sigh. “I know I can’t make you reconsider when you’ve made up your mind. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise.”

She kept watching him worriedly for the rest of the day. Draco hated doing this to his best friend, but he really needed her help. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone and he couldn’t afford for anyone to get suspicious about his absence. Technically he wasn’t even allowed to leave Hogwarts. At least not without permission from his head of house and he sure as hell would not involve Severus. His godfather had always hated Harry. He wouldn’t understand.

He slept fitfully and got up at the crack of dawn, dressing quietly and sneaking out of the dorm while the others were still fast asleep. Hogwarts was quiet this early on a Saturday morning. Draco had counted on that. He encountered no-one as he silently made his way to the kitchens. The elves seemed surprised about their early visitor, but they were too well-trained to make their displeasure known.

“I need to speak to Dobby.” Draco explained.

The other elves didn’t bat an eyelash as they summoned Dobby. Draco had been here with Harry a few times. On the Gryffindor’s insistence he had apologized to the elf and made peace with him. Now he was glad about Harry’s stubbornness, since it gave him an ally.

Dobby looked downcast like he’d never seen him. Not even when he’d still been his father’s elf and Lucius had constantly abused him had he looked that bad. Harry’s death must have affected him greatly. Draco felt compassion for him, even as a part of him noted that this would make it a lot easier to get him to agree.

“Master Draco asked for Dobby?”
“I did. I need your help, Dobby. It’s really important.”
“Dobby is needed in the kitchen.” the elf pointed out.
“It’s about Harry Potter.” Draco let him know. “Harry is your friend, isn’t he? And he’s also my friend.”
“Harry Potter is dead.” Dobby whispered, looking like he was about to cry.
“What if I told you that he’s not dead? Not really.”
“Not.. dead?”
“Listen, Dobby… Harry fell through some sort of … portal. I did a lot of research and… he’s not really dead. He’s stuck between life and death, actually. And I think I can bring him back.”

“Bring Harry Potter back?” Dobby squeaked excitedly.
Draco shushed him. “No-one can know, yet. It has to be a secret, okay?”
Dobby nodded solemnly. “Dobby can keep a secret.”
“Good. So, yes. I can bring him back. But I’m going to need help. Your help, Dobby. Will you help me bring him back?”
The elf nodded vigorously. “Dobby will help, yes.”
“Great. You know where he used to live, right? With the muggles? You’ve been there.”
“Yes, Dobby knows.”
“Can you take me there?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Right now?”

Dobby glanced over at the other elves. They were busy preparing breakfast a few feet away, but shooting him dark looks every now and then. He looked back at Draco, nodded and held out his hand. Draco took it and the elf apparated them away.

***

They landed in a quiet, unassuming muggle street. The houses were small and everything looked very neat and tidy. People were obviously still asleep, for there was no-one around. Draco looked at the house with a frown, unable to picture Harry growing up here. He didn’t know all that much about Harry’s childhood. The Gryffindor had only told him small bits and pieces, but it was enough to realize that Harry hadn’t been a happy child. He hadn’t been loved and well-cared for. Which explained so much about the boy he’d met at Madam Malkin’s five years ago.

After simply staring at the house for a solid minute, Draco shook himself out of his thoughts and turned to Dobby again.

“I need to talk to Harry’s cousin. Can you take me to his room? And make sure the parents don’t disturb us?”
“Dobby can do that.”
“Great.”

Dobby apparated them inside, into a messy bedroom. The walls were lined with unmoving posters. Clothes were strewn over every available surface. Draco could see a lot of strange muggle machines and other knick-knacks. In the light from the streetlamps outside, filtering in through the window, he could just make out a great, snoring lump on the bed.

“Dobby be taking care of the parents.” the elf squeaked.
“Thank you. I’ll call you when I need you, okay?”
Dobby nodded and apparated away.

Draco stared at the bed for a moment longer, before squaring his shoulders and stepping closer. He grabbed what he guessed to be the shoulder of Harry’s cousin and gave it a firm shake. The boy grunted and tried to bat his hand away. Draco shook him harder.

“Come on, you bloody muggle. Wake up!”
“No, mommy… five more minutes.” the muggle whined.
“I’m not your mommy. Get your stupid fat arse out of bed!” Draco snapped.

That finally did the trick. The muggle sat up and blinked at him blearily for a moment. Then his eyes widened and he scrambled backwards, yelling for help. Draco drew his wand and held it to his throat, hissing at him to shut up. Harry had told him that these muggles were scared of magic. And he hadn’t been kidding. As soon as he recognized the wand for what it was, the muggle fell silent, gazing up at him in obvious fear.

“Better.” Draco said, taking a step back, but keeping his wand in hand. Just in case. “Maybe now we can talk like civilized people.”
“Who are you? What do you want?” the muggle whispered, eyeing Draco fearfully.
“I’m a friend of Harry. Your cousin.”
The muggle blinked. “Harry’s not here. He’s dead. What do you want from me?”
“That’s … not quite true.” Draco murmured. “Could you turn on the light? And stop staring at me like that. I’m not going to hex you. Unless you give me a good reason.”

The muggle hesitated. Then, without taking his eyes off Draco’s wand, he scooted to the side of the bed and pressed a button on the lamp on his bedside table. Bright light flooded the room. Draco looked at the mess in disdain, before focusing his attention onto Harry’s cousin again. He could see no family resemblance. Harry’s cousin was tall, fat and ugly. And he was quivering in fear. No courage there at all.

“Okay, listen. I’m here because Harry needs help.”
“But Harry’s dead.” the muggle repeated. “That weird bloke came to tell us.”
“He lied to you. Harry isn’t dead. He’s… been kidnapped.” Draco claimed, deciding it would be better to omit a few details.
“Kidnapped?”
“He’s being held captive. I’m going to free him. And you’re going to help me.”
“Me?” the muggle cried. “Why me? Why can’t your lot do that?”
“It needs to be a blood relative.”
“Huh?”

Draco rolled his eyes. Merlin, this was worse than talking to Crabbe or Goyle. Were all muggles this stupid?

“The … place, where he’s being held captive… it can only be opened by a blood relative.” Which was actually sort-of true.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Draco barked.
“Why does it have to be a relative? How is that even possible?”
“It’s a spell, you imbecile! Those people know that Harry’s only living relatives are muggles. They think that makes it impossible for him to escape.”
“But why can’t you…”
“I’m not blood-related to Harry.” Draco pointed out, wondering how anyone could be this stupid and slow.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I told you… I need your help with freeing Harry.” Draco repeated, trying to keep his composure.
“But I don’t want to get involved in your… stuff.”
“Well, too bad. You’re the only one who can help me. And you owe it to Harry.”
“I don’t…”

“Yes, you do. He told me what happened last summer. The dementor attack. He saved your stupid fat arse and dragged you home. He could have run and left you there. It’s no less than what you would have deserved, after the way you mistreated him for years. But instead Harry risked his neck to save you. And now it’s time you repaid the favour.”

Draco really hoped the muggle would come willingly. It would make things a lot easier. But if he didn’t, he would have no qualms about kidnapping him. He couldn’t use magic, since he still had the trace, but he was pretty sure Dobby wouldn’t mind knocking the fat muggle out. Not if it meant saving Harry.

“I feel bad about what I did. Really.” the muggle said, looking surprisingly sincere. “But that doesn’t mean I have to risk my life for him.”
“You won’t be risking your life.” Draco said reassuringly.
“You said he’s been kidnapped.”
“Yes, he has. But the kidnappers… they’re not keeping watch or anything. They think no-one can break him out. Freeing him won’t be dangerous at all.”

The muggle frowned. “You sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure. Give me some credit. I’m very capable. Should we run into trouble, which we won’t, I could take them out.”
“What do you need from me, then?”
“You just need to open the door. Simple as that. Once you’ve done that, you can go right back home and I’ll never bother you again.”
“You want me to open a door? That’s all?”
“Yes, that’s all.”

Draco figured it wasn’t lying if he simply didn’t tell the muggle how he was supposed to open the door. And that technically it wasn’t really a door, but a portal to the world of the dead. That stupid troll probably wouldn’t even understand it.

“And if I agree to help you, you’ll leave me alone?” the muggle asked hopefully.
“Yes, of course. I promise you’ll never see me again once we freed Harry.” As if he’d want to spend more time with this stupid fat muggle than he had to.
“Okay, I guess.”
“You’ll help me?”
“Umm… yes?”

Draco figured this was the best he was going to get. “Great. Get your arse out of bed then. We’ve got no time to lose.”
“Wait… you want to go right now?”
“What did you think? Next week?”
“But… it’s …” He squinted at the alarm clock. “It’s only 7 AM! On a Saturday. And I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Oh, come on. It won’t take long. And it won’t kill you to miss breakfast one time.”
“But.. my parents…”
“Won’t even notice you’re gone.” Draco promised. “You’ll be back before you know it. But only if we act quickly now. So stop arguing and get moving.”

The muggle seemed to be gearing up for an argument. But then his eyes fell on the wand Draco was still holding. He gulped audibly and finally rolled out of bed. Draco sighed in relief. Stage two completed. So far everything was going as planned. He only hoped it would continue like this.

“Can we stop for breakfast?” the muggle asked hopefully.
Draco frowned, ready to lash out, but then decided this might be easier if he just treated him like Crabbe or Goyle. “Sure. On the way back.”
A slight hesitation. But the muggle obviously realized this was as much as he’d get. “Okay.”
“Great. Now get dressed and get your arse moving.”

He watched as the muggle threw on some clothes he’d picked up off the floor and couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose. Harry hadn’t mentioned what a swine his cousin was. What had Dumbledore been thinking, forcing him to come back here every summer?

“Do you have a car?” the muggle asked suddenly.
Draco blinked at him. “A what?”
“A car. I mean… how are we getting… wherever we’re going? I don’t like taking the bus.”
“Wizards have other ways of travelling.”

The muggle paled. “You’re not… shoving me into the fireplace, are you? I don’t like small spaces.”
“No, we’re not using the floo. I didn’t think you’re house was even connected to the floo-network.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Are you done now, muggle?”
“Dudley.”
“Excuse me?”
“My name. It’s Dudley.”
“Oh. Pleasure? I’m Draco.”
“That’s a weird name.”
Draco bristled. “Not nearly as weird as Dudley.” he snapped, making the muggle flinch.
“Sorry.”

“Enough talking. Let’s get going. Dobby?”

There was a crack and the elf appeared next to him. Dudley took one look at Dobby and screamed, scrambling backwards so fast he nearly fell onto his fat arse.

“What the hell is that?!”
Draco rolled his eyes. Maybe he should have knocked the muggle out after all. Might’ve been easier on his frayed nerves. “This is Dobby. He’s a house-elf.”
“A what?”
“Never you mind. Dobby, can you please take … Dudley and me to the Glastonbury Tor now? And make sure no-one sees us, if there are muggles around.”

Dobby nodded eagerly, holding out his hands. Draco grabbed it and when Dudley just continued to stand there and gape at the elf, he grabbed the muggle by the arm and signalled Dobby to take them away.

***

In hindsight Draco figured that it might’ve been a good idea to warn Dudley about the apparition. He truthfully hadn’t even thought of it. For him it was just normal. Elves had apparated him around since he’d been a child. But of course a muggle wouldn’t be used to it. And Dudley was taking apparating… rather badly. As soon as they landed on the grassy hilltop, he dropped to his knees and started retching.

“Wha… that was … awful!” he complained.
“Well… on the bright side… it was a good idea to skip breakfast.” Draco joked.
Dudley glared at him. “You should’ve warned me.”
“Oh, come on. It was just a little side-along apparition. I couldn’t have known you’d be such a baby.”

Dudley finally got up on shaky legs and looked around. They were standing on a conical, grassy hill. Right before them were the remains of an old tower. You could see houses in the distance. There was no-one around yet.

“Where are we?”
“On top of the Glastonbury Tor. In Somerset.”
“You… beamed me to Somerset?”
“Err.. yes?” Draco guessed, not sure what the weird muggle meant by beaming.
“And … where’s Harry?”

“He’s… close by.” Draco said evasively, before turning to Dobby. “I think it’s best if you wait here. Okay?”
The elf nodded. “Dobby will wait.”
“Good. I hope we won’t be long. If muggles show up, make sure they don’t see you.”
“Dobby will remain hidden.”
“Okay. See you soon.”

Draco squared his shoulders and stepped into the tower ruin, beckoning Dudley to follow him.

“What are we doing here? I thought you said you wanted to free Harry.” the muggle muttered, looking around suspiciously.
“Which is exactly what we’re about to do.”
“But… there’s no-one here. And there’s no place to hide someone.” Dudley pointed out.
“It’s a secret entrance. Just shut up for a minute, will you?”

Ignoring the pouting muggle, Draco concentrated on the task at hand. He hadn’t lied. This was a secret entrance. Thing was, you usually needed permission from the ministry of magic to enter the Isle of the Blessed nowadays. Which meant he was probably about to break the law. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d already left Hogwarts without permission, uncaring of the consequences should anyone find out. Perhaps he’d spent too much time with Harry. That Gryffindor recklessness seemed to be contagious.

Draco had read all about the passage up here. Now he just had to hope that it still worked the way it used to, before the ministry had decided to restrict its use.

There was a plaque fitted to the inner wall, letting people know all about the tower. Draco ignored the writing and focused on the stones surrounding the plaque. He counted five to the right and two up. Taking a deep breath he took out his wand and tapped the brick there seven times. Then he waited, praying it would work.

For a moment nothing happened and Draco already feared the worst. Then the bricks suddenly started shifting, creating an entryway like the one that led into Diagon Alley. Draco grinned. Dudley on the other hand gasped in shock and stumbled backwards. Draco grabbed his wrist to prevent him from running.

“Come on.”
Dudley resisted. “I’m not going in there.”
“Yes, you are.”

Instead of having another discussion, Draco just gave Dudley a hard shove that sent him toppling right through the entryway. With a grin he followed suit, stepping through and emerging onto a copy of the Glastonbury Tor. Only here there were no church ruins, but a perfect ring of standing stones. They had emerged through the largest of them. And Draco could see no houses in the distance. Just untouched nature wherever he looked. The view was magnificent. Even Dudley looked around in wonder rather than fear.

“Welcome to the Isle of the Blessed. You are one of the very few muggles to ever set foot here.” Draco let him know.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a sacred site of the old religion. Even wizards and witches don’t really come here anymore.”
“And.. those people have locked Harry up here?”
“Yeah, about that… I might have … twisted the truth a tiny bit.”

Dudley gave him a flat look. “Huh?”
“I wasn’t lying per se.” Draco defended himself. “I just … left out a few details and such.”
“You lied to me?”
“Do pay attention. I just said I wasn’t lying. Not really.”
“So Harry … is here somewhere?” Dudley asked, gazing around as if expecting Harry to jump out from behind a tree any moment.

Draco figured it was time to come clean. “Okay, listen. The truth is… Harry wasn’t kidnapped. He fell through some old artefact and now he’s stuck in the otherworld. He’s caught between life and death, actually. But we can get him back. We just need to ask the gatekeeper to unhand him.”

Dudley looked as if he hadn’t understood half of it. “So… he’s not… locked up or anything?”
“Not really, no.”
“But you said… you need me to open a door.”
“Well… not a door precisely.”
“Huh?”
“The gatekeeper will require a blood sacrifice from a relative.”

It took a moment until it clicked. When it did, Dudley’s eyes widened in fear. He stumbled backwards, feeling around for the entrance without taking his eyes off Draco. He obviously hadn’t realized that the entryway had closed behind them. Glancing over his shoulder he finally noticed that there was no way back for him.

“Let me go, you freak!”
“Stop yelling. There’s no-one around to hear you anyways.”
“Let me go! I’m not dying for Harry.”
“No-one asked you to.”
“I heard what you said. You want to sacrifice me to bring him back from the dead, you bloody freak!”

Draco had enough. He pointed his wand at Dudley with a glare. “Shut your fucking mouth! I’m not letting a stupid muggle like you insult me.”

Dudley looked at the wand in obvious panic. But then he suddenly lunged for Draco with a wild look in his eyes. Draco managed to sidestep the attack at the last second. Driven by his own momentum, Dudley ran headfirst against one of the standing stones. With a dull thud he fell backwards into the grass. Draco rolled his eyes. Trust that stupid oaf to nearly knock himself out. He used the chance to hit him with a full body-bind, not wanting to take the risk of another attack.

“Will you listen to me now?” he snarled.
Dudley looked up at him, whimpering in fear. Draco decided to take that as a yes.
“I’m not planning on sacrificing you. I’m not a murderer and Harry sure as hell would never forgive me if I killed you. Merlin knows why. I just need a bit of your blood.” he explained. “If it makes you feel better, I’m going to make a blood sacrifice as well.” Because knowing Harry, he surely wouldn’t leave his godfather behind in the otherworld. And since Sirius Black was conveniently related to Draco, why not kill two birds with one stone and bring both of them back?

“So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take off the body-bind. You’re going to follow me down that hill. Then I’ll call upon the gatekeeper. We’ll both spill a few drops of our blood. Harry comes back and I’ll ask Dobby to take you back home. Alright?”

He ended the spell, but kept his wand trained on Dudley, who continued to stare up at him with distrust. “And what if I don’t do what you want?” he challenged.
“Then I’m going to knock you out, take your blood and do this on my own. Your choice.”
“You’re an arse!”
“Yes, I’ve heard that before. So what’s it going to be? I don’t have all day.”
“Just a few drops? Then you’ll let me go?”
“You have my word.”
“Okay.”

Draco made no move to help Dudley up. He didn’t trust the muggle and felt it prudent to stay out of his reach. But it seemed like Dudley had accepted his fate. He didn’t say anything as they trekked down the hill. The entrance to the otherworld wasn’t hard to find, if you knew what you were looking for. To the unassuming eye it looked like a mere gap between a formation of rocks. But just looking at it sent chills down Draco’s spine. A niggling voice in the back of his head told him that he shouldn’t be here. His instinct was telling him to run as fast as he could. Fighting that urge was hard, but he was doing this for Harry, he reminded himself. Harry wouldn’t back down. And neither did he.

Squaring his shoulders he spoke the words he had memorized, making sure to pronounce them right. “Gairmidh mi mach fear-gleidhidh a' gheata.“

He could see Dudley trembling next to him out of the corner of his eye. Despite not understanding the words, even the muggle obviously felt their power. It was as if something shifted as soon as Draco had uttered the incantation. Something intangible happened around them. The gap didn’t change its appearance. It didn’t get bigger or darker or anything. But Draco could practically feel the presence of another magical being.

And then she suddenly stood before them, as if she had materialized out of thin air. It was impossible to tell her age. At first glance she looked ancient. Then she appeared younger than Draco’s mother. She seemed to shift before his eyes and he had to force himself to keep looking at her. In her left hand she held a wooden staff, topped with a white jewel. She was wearing plain, black robes, her face half-hidden beneath the hood. Her skin was even paler than his and her eyes looked like a dark abyss. Yet when she spoke her voice was strangely soft and musical.

“You have called upon me, child.”
“I come to ask a favour of you.” he replied.
“It is not in my power to bring back the dead.” the gatekeeper pointed out.
“I know. That is not what I came to ask.”
“What other favour could a young one like you ask of me?”
“There are two wizards in your realm, who don’t belong there yet. Harry James Potter and Sirius Orion Black. They fell through what we call the Arc. Which means they are not dead. They’re caught between life and death.”
“I know of whom you speak, child.”
“I have come to ask you to return them to the land of the living.”

She seemed to think about his words for a moment. Draco wanted to check if Dudley was still there, but didn’t dare to take his eyes off the gatekeeper. He couldn’t risk offending her. Not now, when they were so close.

“What you ask can be granted. For a price.” she replied finally.
“I am a direct relative of Sirius Black. I’m willing to sacrifice my blood for his return. And my companion here will do the same for Harry Potter.”

The gatekeeper looked at Dudley and Draco chanced a quick glance as well. Yes, he was still there. He was standing stock-still, staring at the gatekeeper as if frozen in fear. Which was fine by Draco. At least it meant he couldn’t run.

“The blood of a relative is needed to summon them here.” the gatekeeper let them know. “If I allow them to pass the gate.”
“And… will you allow them to pass?” Draco asked.
“I shall. For a price.”

Okay, that was unexpected. The report Draco had read had only mentioned the blood sacrifice. It hadn’t said the gatekeeper would ask for payment. Maybe the woman hadn’t known. Or maybe she just hadn’t deemed it important. It didn’t really matter now. He had come this far. He wouldn’t give up now, even if it meant sacrificing his whole inheritance.

“State your price, then.”

She looked him directly in the eyes and he shuddered. It felt as if she was looking into his very soul and Draco realized for the first time that she wasn’t merely a powerful witch. She was a deity. He was bargaining with a fucking deity. The thought made hysterical laughter bubble up inside of him, but he tramped it down and forced himself to meet her gaze.

“I want a secret. And a truth.” she said finally.

Draco blinked, caught off guard. Though he probably shouldn’t be. She was a bloody deity. She had no need for gold. He should have guessed that she would ask for something intangible. Something that had a different value than money. He looked over at Dudley for a second, but the muggle still hadn’t moved. No help there. It was all up to Draco.

“I can give you a truth that’s also a secret.” he offered. He had no idea where he took the courage from. Perhaps he was channelling Harry.

The gatekeeper’s eyes gleamed. She suddenly reminded him of a little girl in a candy shop. As if he’d offered her a great treasure. Perhaps he had.

“I accept.”

She held out her staff, the jewel at the top gleaming as if hit by a ray of sunlight. “Give me the truth that’s also a secret.” she ordered.
Draco took a deep breath, uttering the words he hadn’t even allowed himself to think so far. “I’m in love with Harry Potter.”

The jewel flashed so brightly that he had to avert his eyes. When he looked back at the gatekeeper, her appearance had changed yet again. Now she looked like a young woman of breath-taking beauty. Even Dudley next to him woke enough from his trance to gasp.

“Now the blood.” the gatekeeper said. “Spill it here, on the threshold.”

Draco passed his wand over the palm of his left hand, muttering a cutting spell. He flinched at the pain, but forced himself to hold his hand steady as a red line appeared and blood started dripping from the wound. He looked at the gatekeeper, who was watching the proceeding impassively. After a few seconds she nodded and he sighed in relief, quickly whispering the counter-spell and watching his skin knit back shut.

Then he turned to Dudley, who had gone very pale. “Just a small cut. It’s not bad.” Draco assured.

Dudley hesitated, but after risking a glance at the gatekeeper he reluctantly held out his hand. Draco grabbed his wrist to hold him steady and repeated the procedure. Dudley flinched violently as his palm was sliced open, but made no move to break out of Draco’s grasp. Once Draco had healed the cut again, he clutched his hand to his chest.

“What now?” Draco asked, turning back to the gatekeeper.
She gave him a strange little smile. “You shall see. Farewell, Draco Malfoy. It has been most curious meeting you.”

And then she was gone as suddenly as she’d appeared. Draco blinked at the empty space in shock. He hadn’t told her his name. But he probably shouldn’t be surprised that she’d known anyways.

For a few, tense seconds nothing happened. Draco was all-too aware of Dudley’s loud breathing next to him. Of his own heart-beat. Then he saw movement behind the gap. Behind the entrance to the otherworld. Draco held his breath as two figures stepped out into the light.

“Harry!” he breathed.
“Draco?”

Draco again felt laughter bubbling up inside of him and this time he didn’t even try to hold it back. He’d done it! He’d really done it. He stepped up to the other boy and pulled him into his arms. Harry returned the hug automatically, but pulled back after only a moment to look at him quizzically.

“Draco! What happened? Where are we?”
“This isn’t the department of mysteries.” Sirius Black noted somewhere beside him.
“No, it’s not.” Draco agreed.
“But what… Dudley?!”

Harry had spied his cousin and was now looking from Dudley to Draco in obvious shock. “What the fuck…”
“It’s a long story.” Draco said. “But I guess we should get out of here before I start explaining.”
“And here is…?”
“The Isle of the Blessed.”
“No fucking way!” Sirius said, looking around in awe.
Harry just looked confused.
Draco couldn’t stop grinning. “Come on. I’ve got loads to tell you.”

And he actually couldn’t wait. Yes, the dark lord was still at large. He was still expecting Draco to fix that bloody vanishing cabinet. There was still a war brewing. But right now, none of that mattered. Harry was back. Draco had brought him back from the otherworld. He’d successfully bargained with a bloody deity. In that moment it felt as if there was nothing he wouldn’t be able to accomplish. Perhaps it was only a matter of the right motivation he mused, risking a short glance at Harry, as he led their weird little group back up the hill.