A Twist of Fate

Chapter 18: King's Cross

Harry was stunned. He had no words. He couldn't even scream. The corpse of Draco Malfoy, the man he loved, lay at his feet, struck down by Voldemort. He wasn't the only surprised one - Bellatrix's mouth was agape, Hagrid had the same what-just-happened look, and all was quiet, aside from Narcissa Malfoy's sobbing. The woman knelt over the body of her son, weeping as she held his stone-cold face that was stuck in time. The tears were still shining on his face, his eyes shut tightly. Though his face had relaxed now, there was no doubt that he had been crying as he ran in.

"How unexpected." Voldemort twirled his wand in between his fingers. Harry could barely hear him through his own thoughts, which were beating on themselves. Why was Draco here? Why did he do that? He's not really dead, right? RIGHT? PLEASE?! Harry's face filled with tears, and he let them flow. He crawled over to Draco's body, placing his hand on his heart. Nothing. He felt nothing. Draco Malfoy was dead.

"As I was saying," Voldemort continued, obviously unaffected by the tragic turn of events. "Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Come to die." Harry's emerald eyes angrily burned at Voldemort, hating every part, every cell of the being that was Voldemort. The anger surged through his blood like a raging fire, pumping adrenaline through his veins. Harry yelled out angrily, as Voldemort sent his final doom upon Harry.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry felt his world go black in an instant.

Harry lay in nothing. Slowly coming to his senses, and thankfully wishing clothes upon himself, he was able to see what was around him. Or, at least, the lack of. Harry squinted through the mist, noticing something small had concealed itself within it. As soon as he saw what it was, he recoiled back, afraid of the being that was there. And yet, he felt the urge to comfort it, help it somehow.

"You cannot help." Albus Dumbledore walked towards him with leisure. "And I would not advise that either. That is the part of Voldemort that was within you. It has died now."

"W-Wait," Harry said, trying to process this. "but you're dead."

"Yes,"

"Then I'm dead?"

"Not quite." Dumbledore stroked his long, silvery beard.

"But...But I let him kill me! Voldemort, I mean."

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "and I think that has made all the difference." There was silence for a moment, until Harry spoke up again.

"Where are we?" he said.

"Well I was going to ask you that," Dumbledore said. "Where do you think we are?" Where did he wish to be? An odd idea planted itself within Harry, and suddenly he was somewhere familiar.

"King's Cross." Dumbledore chuckled, gazing around him. "But, I must digress for a moment, Harry. There is someone you must see." They walked a little, and Harry noticed the familiar shape of someone sitting on a bench. The blonde hair became apparent, and even his absent, grey eyes were a welcome. Harry broke into a run, catching the boy's attention.

"Harry!" he said, astonished.

"Draco!" Harry ran into him, embracing him in a tight hug. "I thought you were-"

"Oh, but I am," Draco said. "But why are you...?"

"Voldemort," Harry explained simply. He looked back to Dumbledore. "What happens now?" Dumbledore stroked his beard.

"What indeed," he said. "I suppose you have a choice, Harry. A choice to stay here with Draco or to go back to the world of the living." Harry let go of Draco, still holding his hand. Draco nodded.