The defeat of the dark lord should have heralded an age of peace for England, but instead, a new nightmare arose. The first signs of the zombie apocalypse were subtle—isolated attacks, reports of deranged individuals biting others. But within weeks, the epidemic exploded, transforming the heart of England into a battleground.

The Ministry was caught unprepared, its resources stretched thin as it battled this unprecedented threat. Desperate for a scapegoat, they turned their eyes to Draco. In the two years following the Dark Lord’s fall, Draco had carved a dark reputation for himself. The wizarding world whispered of his ruthlessness, his dealings in the black market, and the string of bodies left in his wake. He was a specter of fear, wielding power from the shadows.

The Ministry, convinced that Draco was behind the zombie plague, devoted massive resources to hunt him down. Aurors scoured the country, raiding safe houses, interrogating his associates, and even employing dark magic detectors. Yet, Draco remained elusive, always a step ahead, leaving a trail of destruction and death.

As the Ministry’s focus remained divided between controlling the zombie outbreak and capturing Draco, England continued to deteriorate. Entire cities fell to the undead, turning into graveyards of the living.

After two relentless years, the Ministry finally cornered Draco in a decaying mansion on the outskirts of what was once Birmingham. Draco was transported to Azkaban under heavy guard, placed in a high-security cell warded against any form of intrusion or escape. The Ministry heralded his capture as a victory, but it was a hollow one. The plague continued to spread unchecked, and soon, all of England was a wasteland, overrun by the dead.

Yet, as the days in Azkaban turned to months, he was left alone with his thoughts. He watched the world crumble with a bitter satisfaction. Nations united, deploying their best wizards and witches to contain the threat, but they offered little aid to the fallen kingdom.