Haunted

Disclaimer: all characters are property of J.K. Rowling, no copyright infringement intended.
This goes for the whole fic. I do not own any of the characters.

I

Everything was dead quiet that evening. Something evil had fallen upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that something used to have a name, though now, the students just called him “him” for the fear of him going after them at night. But he only tormented the ones who had tormented him in life, which was barely three weeks ago, and mostly, the one who had driven him to insanity, just enough for him to take his own life… Harry James Potter. The Boy ho Bloody Saved The World.

He had seen the Headmaster and numerous other staff members storm into his room to find his dead body lying rigidly on his bed with his own wand aimed at his head, the morning after putting an end to his life with the very curse his own father had taught him. Ironic, isn’t it?

He had seen them, and yet, they hadn’t seen him floating around them. Albus Dumbledore had sensed him, though.

‘You are free to go, now, Mr. Malfoy. May you rest in peace’, he had said lowering his head in grieve.

He was free to go, indeed, but that was not what he had in mind. He would be eternal, such as the Bloody Baron and the thousand other ghosts in the castle. He would stay and remind those goody-goody Gryffindors there were not to mess with Draco Malfoy.

Later that day, Dumbledore levitated Draco’s body, which had been covered with his green Slytherin sheets, and took it to the Great Hall. Draco followed his body and was startled when he saw the usually cheerful room all in black. The house tables were no longer there; they had been replaced by a thousand chairs, all faced to a black coffin, which looked extraordinarily expensive. Dumbledore slowly put his body in it and, after staring at it for a moment, he walked away. Draco seized this time of solitude with himself and looked at his body. It looked so different to him now. Some people say mirrors reflect the sole and, for the first time, he believed it.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and a sea of black robes marched in and took a set. They were followed by the staff members and Draco’s remaining family, wht meant alive and out of Azkaban. He watched as his mother sat at the front and doubted if he had done the right thing.

Dumbledore walked up to the front and said a few words that Draco only half-listened. He was saying Draco had been a brilliant, talented wizard; how sad this loss was for his friends and family and how he could never imagine what sort of issues was he dealing with to end it all the way he had.

«You don’t know me. None of you people do», he thought.

When the Headmaster finished his speech, some people got up and walked over the coffin to say their goodbyes to the Draco Malfoy they thought they knew.

‘Why, Draco?’, Narcissa Malfoy muttered. ‘What did I do wrong?’

Never had he seen his mother cry out of something other than physical pain in his life. Malfoys were not supposed to show emotion, because feeling were weakness. His father had taught him that when he was just a kid and knew nothing about life.

And so, on after the other, the whole Slytherin House walked over to him. Pansy was crying loudly, and all Draco could think was «There, there, Pansy. Now, be a good girl and brush those hairs out of my eyes, which, by the way, no one even bother to close»

He could count the people from other houses with his fingers, but was shocked to see Potter and his bootlicking friends walk silently his way. The Weasel just took a quick look and walked on. Granger looked down and shook her head. Potter, on the other hand, stood there staring at him and gently brushed the few hairs out of his eyes. Draco wasn’t sure if it was Potter’s glasses that fooled his sight, but he thought he had seen tear blurring those famous emerald green eyes. Those eyes that less than 24 hours before had reflected hate. And suddenly, it all came back to him.

***Flashback***

‘Hey, Malfoy! What do you think you’re doing?’, Potter’s voice reached his ears several feet above.

‘What does it look like to you?’, Draco replied mounting on his broom.

‘Today, we practice, remember? And besides, the rest of the team is not even with you’
‘I’m a seeker, Potter. I don’t need the rest of the team’, he drawled, steadying his new Firebolt only inches above Harry’s to be able to look down on him.

‘But still, on Fridays we have the pitch, and you know it.’

‘What’s wrong Potter? Are you too much of a coward to practice long with me?’, Draco asked lifting an eyebrow. Harry snorted. ‘What was that supposed to mean?’

‘You called me a coward?’, Harry laughed. ‘You, of all people? You, who can’t stand walking near the Forbidden Forest or have someone aiming his wand at you?’

‘Are you implying that I’m a coward?’

‘No, Malfoy! You are a coward!’

‘Harry? What’s going on down there?’

‘Nothing! Go back to your hoops, Ron!’

‘So? What do you say? You and me, after the snitch. We both have Firebolts, so there will be no blaming the broom’, Draco said.

‘OK, whenever you’re ready.’

‘I’m always ready’, he hissed.

‘Alright, then… Ron!’

‘What?!’

‘Release the snitch!’

***End of flashback***