"Harry, you're a wizard."

"No, I'm not."

"What do you mean you're not?"

"I'm a Squib."

The giant opened his mouth in astonishment, but didn't say a word. After a moment, he gathered himself and spoke. "If you can wait a moment here, Harry, I'll be right back with Dumbledore," he said, disappearing with a crack.

"What door?"

"Harry, I understand that you're a Squib and therefore cannot do any magic. However, that is not necessarily a bad thing," said the Headmaster.

"How come?" asked Harry.

"You see, my boy, spells can do a lot of damage. But there is one thing that is way more powerful than spells could ever be…"

Harry was sitting at the edge of his sit now. "What is it?"

Albus Dumbledore smiled at him and winked. "The power of love, Harry. And that's what I'm going to teach you, and that's how you will defeat Voldemort."

Harry shrugged. "Alright."

The Sorting Ceremony was already over, but one student still remained in the centre of the Great Hall. All eyes were on him and whispers could be heard among the curious teenagers.

"That's Harry Potter," whispered Draco Malfoy among his new Slytherin housemates.

"As you all can see, we have one student, Harry Potter, still remaining," said the Headmaster. "That is because due to his advanced magical knowledge, I decided that he won't be sorted or attend any classes with the lesser capable students, who are, unfortunately, you." Dumbledore smiled at the students. "He will be living in the castle, but I'll be giving him individual advanced lessons. That's all."

Harry was walking in a dimly-lit hallway, on his way to another Love lesson, when he was stopped by a trio of Slytherins.

"Potter!" Draco Malfoy practically spat the word, his face red with anger. "Let's see if you truly are as great as the old man says!" The blond boy took out his wand and aimed it at Harry, who was looking at him curiously.

"Who are you?" Harry asked in a pleasant voice.

Draco grimaced. "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Now shut up and take out your wand! We'll duel!"

Harry shrugged. "I don't have a wand. I don't need it."

Draco's face paled a bit, a drop of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"He does wandless magic," one of Draco's lackeys whispered in awe.

"I don't care, Potter! You'll have to fight me without it!"

Harry took a step forward confidently, making Draco step back in fear. Harry got closer to the other boy and pulled a small tissue out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice got uncomfortably high as his fear increased.

Harry boldly reached for Draco's face and, using his tissue, wiped the boy's face delicately.

"You were sweating, I didn't want that to ruin your makeup," Harry said as he pocketed the wet tissue again.

Draco's face was even redder than before. "I don't wear makeup!" he shouted and ran away, his lackeys following closely behind. To Harry's amusement, one of them gave him a thumbs up before disappearing around the corner.

"And now the fourth champion, Harry Potter!" The crowd cheered and Harry, dressed in a luxurious black suit, walked out of the tent confidently, looking at the Dragon.

The giant dragon roared, fire escaping its mouth.

Harry smiled nonchalantly. "You're really hot, you know that?" he said and winked at the blushing dragon.

"Stand up, Potter!" Voldemort shouted and Harry slowly got up, eyeing the resurrected Dark Lord. They were in a graveyard, a circle of Death Eaters surrounding them.

"We'll duel, boy! They taught you how to duel at Hogwarts, didn't they?" Voldemort asked with a sneer.

Harry shook his head, looking very fragile. "I'm afraid I can't duel you," he said in a quiet voice.

"Why not? You're too afraid, Potter?"

Harry let out a sigh. "That's right. I can't possibly risk damaging such a beautiful person as you."

The Dark Lord's features were now considerably less pale than usual, his lizard-like face blushing like never before. A few of the Death Eaters whistled and clapped, so Voldemort silenced them with the Killing Curse.

Harry walked up to the Dark Lord and kneeled before him. "Voldemort, will you marry me?" he asked and showed him a beautifully-crafted golden ring.

The Dark Lord started sobbing and nodded his head. "Yes, I will," he said.

And then Dumbledore appeared out of thin air, riding on his Phoenix, a saxophone in his wrinkled hands.

And as Harry hugged his new husband tightly, Dumbledore played Careless Whisper and danced around them on his Phoenix.

And they all lived happily ever after.

A/N: This was written for the eighth round of the Houses Competition, year 4.

House: Gryffindor

Year: 2

Category: 1 AUs

Prompt: Squib!AU

Word Count: 774