Chapter 4
Harry only feels a little guilty about using Hermione as a personal librarian, be she honestly knows so much more than he and Ron combined, and really he’s doing it for a good cause. So the guilt is somewhat assuaged when he asks about Draco again.
“‘Mione, do you know about ghost formation?” Harry asks, trying to be nonchalant but probably failing miserably.
“Is this about Malfoy again?” Hermione asks, but she knows the answer, “I thought we had handed that all off to Nick and the Hogwarts ghosts?”
“Well, yes,” Harry says, “but, I found something weird about him, I think he’s not becoming a ghost properly.”
“Are you really wanting Malfoy to stick around?” Ron asks, and Harry frowns.
“Well, I didn’t want him dead in the first place, so I don’t think it’s bad to want to make sure his ghost isn’t going to die either.”
“Which is very nice,” Hermione cuts in before Ron can grumble any more, “why do you think something is wrong?”
Harry shrugs, “I’m the only one that can see him, aside from the ghosts.” he pauses, “Do you think that this is like how I can speak to snakes? Are there special eyes or something that can see ghosts?”
“No,” Hermione says quickly, “no, there is nothing like that.” She grabs out a book on defence, “I’m pretty sure it’s just because you were part of the same event he was, he would appear more quickly to you because your magic was intertwined at that moment.”
“Oh,” Harry says, “I’ve never heard of that.”
“It’s not common knowledge,” Hermione says, “ghosts often don’t appear, I guess Malfoy was lucky that Hogwarts had enough magic to sustain him too.”
“He’ll appear for other people right?” Harry asks, “I think Professor Snape wants to see him.”
Ron jolts up at that, “I didn’t know they were close.”
“Eventually,” Hermione replies, ignoring Ron. “It might not be for a while though.”
Harry frowns, thinking back to how upset Snape was on the field when Harry mentioned Malfoy, how sad he must be to lose one of his students and not even be able to see him. He hums in thought.
“Bloody hell, I just hope he doesn’t try and sabotage Gryffindor during quidditch,” Ron adds, and Harry can’t help but laugh.
“It won’t matter until we can all see him anyway.” He gathers up his half-finished potions essay, “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t me being weird again.”
“You’re not weird mate,” Ron assures, “it’s just, something unfortunate.”
“Yeah,” Harry mutters, “do you think he’s lonely? I mean, I know Snape visits him, but he can’t see him. I reckon it would drive me mad to be invisible.”
“He’s not your problem,” Ron says, “you don’t have to save him or whatever.”
“I know,” Harry assures him quickly, “but he’s gotten nicer.”
Hermione looks at him with sympathetic eyes, “If you want to talk to him you can, but you’re not obligated to.”
“I know,” Harry mutters. But he’s not sure if he believes it himself. Draco doesn’t have anyone else, and it kind of is his fault that he died. He continues to go back to the quidditch pitch whenever he can, sometimes he and Draco race and play games, and sometimes they just chat on the ground.
Harry really feels like he gets to know him as Draco, rather than Malfoy. As someone who is posh and put together, but laughs with unbridled joy when he wins. It’s a bit sad, but he really does get to know him better as a person after Draco is dead.
—
It’s in Harry’s fourth year that Draco begins to become visible to everyone else. Harry has been flying with him since his second year, they still quarrel, and they still fight. Sometimes, Draco will fly into a Gryffindor game to throw Harry off, or hunt for the snitch first, but still only Harry can see him.
Then one night, as they walk back from the Triwizard Cup unveiling, he sees a group of Slytherins huddled around the quidditch pitch. Usually, he would leave it, but he could see the soft glow of Draco in the middle, and he couldn’t help but wander over in case Draco was trying to tell them something.
“I can’t believe it,” he hears the shrill voice of Pansy say, “I just, this whole time?”
“Yeah!” He can hear Draco reply, “Yeah this whole time, I guess two years is long enough to get enough magic for this.”
He watches as Draco is fawned over by the rest of the people around, his year group already so much older and taller than the ghost in the middle. He sees one of them, Blaise he thinks, reach out to touch Draco, but his hand just passes through.
“Don’t,” Draco says, a little shrilly, “that feels so weird.”
“Feels weird for me too,” Blaise replies, “but hey look, I outgrew you!”
They laugh together, and Harry steps away, scared he’s intruding on something too private for him. He comes back later though, the faded note from Dumbledore still in his pocket, and flies with Draco around the pitch. He doesn’t mention what he saw, but Draco brings it up anyway.
He talks and talks, zooming around in circles and spirals and loop-de-loops, and Harry realises that Draco is still just 12. Harry is only 14, but he feels miles more mature. He doesn’t say anything, just letting Draco live in his own bubble. It’s the least he can do.
—
Draco only gets more visible with each passing year and eventually gets the strength to leave the pitch. He settles into his own role as a Hogwarts ghost, not quite as cheeky as Peeves, not even half as scary as any of the other more gruesome ghosts, but still interesting enough to wow the students.
He makes the quidditch pitch his home, and suddenly everyone turns a blind eye to students flying at all times of the day. Especially Slytherins. He even helps the first years in flying lessons by keeping an extra set of eyes on them, in his own snide way. He’ll circle the pitch in case someone flies too far for Madame Hooch to see.
In fifth year, he pokes at Umbridge whenever he can, gliding around with a sneer. When she goes to interrogate Snape he sits behind her in the class copying her every move and getting the students to laugh. He even gets along with the Weasley twins, and Harry privately thinks that this just proves the twin’s immaturity. He can’t deny they are fun though, and the pranks they pull never hurt anyone.
Draco is surprisingly scared of people getting hurt. He’ll hurl insults and snide remarks, but when the twins set off fireworks he practically berates them into making sure nothing is set on fire. At quidditch games, he swoops around the outside of the pitch. Once there was a bludger getting too close to a Hufflepuff girl, and Draco practically dragged a beater over to fix it. He had looked like he was shaking.
Harry can’t blame him. One night when they fly together he asks, and Draco opens up.
“I’m lucky,” he says, “I got to come back, I know if someone else dies at Hogwarts they won’t be able to like I did.”
“It’s a good thing to do,” Harry assures, “and I know the professors are grateful.”
“You think so?” Draco asks, a hint of the childlike fear and innocence that will never go away hanging in the back of his voice.
Harry smiles, floating closer so they’re facing each other, “of course!” He says, watching as Draco smiles shyly, “Now c’mon, I do have a test tomorrow.”
“Maybe I’ll keep you out here all night so you fail then,” Draco retorts, “I bet you never even study anyway!”
And Harry laughs, because it’s such a Draco thing to say. He really hasn’t changed at all.
——
In seventh year Harry does think about Draco sometimes when he’s on the run. He doesn’t know what he might be doing, if he’s hiding away on the Quidditch field, or if he’s proudly strutting about with the Slytherins.
Sometimes, when his head is dark, he feels so much rage. Why did Malfoy come back and not anyone else? Why not Sirius or Dumbledore? Why Draco, of all the possible options? What unfinished business could a 12-year-old possibly have?
All thoughts of it fly out of his brain during the final battle though, where there are enough dead bodies to drown under if you let yourself. He stands against Voldemort with no plan, no grand strategy, but the force and rage of everyone on that field. He knows that this has to end today.
So it’s almost a shock that in the middle of the battle he hears Draco call out to him. He turns to see the silvery figure of Draco in the low light, his chin set in determination even as his voice shakes. He’s holding something in his hand, which Harry can’t quite see, and then he throws it.
On instinct, Harry catches it, Dumbledore’s wand.
He wins the battle that day and doesn’t see Draco after. He scours the field as they count the dead, and a sinking feeling sets in his heart that perhaps they need to recount Draco into that number. They celebrate in the next few months, but Harry can’t stop looking out the window, hoping that anyone will reappear on that field, anyone at all.
Mostly, he’s looking for Draco.
—
Harry comes back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, he attends classes, works towards becoming an auror, and builds back his life after the years of war.
There are a lot of people missing, students and professors, and it feels so weird to have McGonagall in Dumbledore’s place. But there’s one that Harry keeps on hoping, and hoping, will come back.
He flies almost every night, scanning the field for a glimpse of Draco. He can’t find it.
He leaves class one day to find a group of first-years crowding around a hallway. He walks past, intending to ignore it, but a glimpse of blue sets his heart racing.
He turns to see Draco, standing there in the crowd, attempting to navigate around them into the hallway. “I have to go,” he’s saying, “I need to find someone and I don’t know how much I can hold this.”
“Draco,” Harry calls, and the blond’s head whips up to look at him, and relief fills his face, “you’re back!”
“I had to absorb more magic,” Draco explains, rushing through the crowd as it parts, “I wasn’t strong enough after the battle.”
“You threw me a wand,” Harry says, “that was incredible, thank you, you probably saved the whole wizard world.”
“I did?” Draco asks, and his voice wavers. He’s still just 12, looking up at Harry with big eyes on a face that should have aged, still just as scared and nervous as they all were back then.
“Yes,” Harry agrees, and before he can think he reaches forward to pull Draco into a hug. To his surprise, he feels Draco reach back, and then they’re standing there hugging in the middle of the hallway.
And Harry is so grateful that Draco is back.