Chapter 2
Harry didn't look up for a while, simply staring down at the map- until, of course, they got to the front doors, and he hesitated. Leaving the castle grounds was expressly against the rules, even for him, and he didn't have his cloak on. But, no professors were coming, so he looked up at the doors- and nearly fell on his arse as he stumbled back, eyes wide.
Draco Malfoy.
Though, it wasn't him in full. Or...
Malfoy frowned at him as he floundered, trying to make sense of why Draco Malfoy looked like a ghost- though, a really fuzzy one, like when the signal wasn't quite right on the television, or when your hand smudged through fresh ink.
He wasn't, was he? He couldn't be.
He was clear like a ghost- wearing the school undershirt and trousers with a jumper, though his hair almost looked... wet, and his clothes clung to him similarly. They looked weighed down and heavy. He wasn’t wearing shoes or socks.
"Malfoy?" He finally managed to ask, unable to hide the confusion in his voice.
Malfoy nodded, but gestured towards his mouth and shook his head- then brought his arm up and gestured to follow him further.
"This better not be a plot to kill me," Harry muttered, opening the door. Malfoy followed him out, walking toward the Black Lake. Harry followed.
Once they got a few feet from the water, Malfoy turned to face him, his arms crossed. He looked much more clear- his features were defined, and he looked like a proper ghost. Harry didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
Harry got a flashback to several months prior, where he’d last had a conversation with the former Death Eater, swirling his feet through the water.
"You’re dead?" Harry blurted out. Malfoy wrinkled his nose, but instead of taking a step forward like Harry had thought he would, he opened his mouth and answered.
"No, I'm not dead. Why are you looking for me?"
Harry blinked. His voice sounded just like his own- but almost a little warbled. Harry thought back to the poor connection on a television.
"You can talk."
"Yes."
"You couldn't earlier. I couldn't even see you earlier. Why... You..."
"Why are you trying to find me?" Malfoy demanded again, eyes narrowed.
"I... Zabini said you were here but I... There's no bed for you in the dorms and you don't go to any classes and..." Harry blinked at Malfoy, squinting. "Are you sure you aren't dead? This isn't some... Ghostly Denial phase?"
Malfoy scowled. "I'm not dead. Not entirely."
"Then why are you a ghost?"
Harry stepped forward and, before Malfoy could back away, stuck his hand through Malfoy's chest. It felt like being submerged in a cold, fizzy drink, just like it did with all the other ghosts. He pulled back with a shudder, and Malfoy glared at him.
"I don't know why I'm a ghost. I'm not really a full ghost anyway. I'm only... When I'm close to the lake, I can talk and people can see me."
"Why is that?" Harry asked, walking over onto the dock where a few boats were mounted, walking to the edge and peering into the dark, murky water. He remembered his fourth year and quickly took a step back from the edge, unnerved.
"It's none of your business, Potter," Malfoy snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.
Harry blinked at him. "I'm just wondering. I thought they’d carted you off to Azkaban for violating your conditions. You didn’t seem to want to come back the last time we spoke."
Malfoy flinched somewhat. "No. I'm here. Not casting any cruel spells- no spells at all, actually- and attending classes- though no one can see me in them."
Harry blinked at him. He'd been able to see Malfoy in the entryway, but he couldn't talk. Most of the front of the castle had been destroyed during the war, so any classes taking place were moved to the back half of the castle. Made sense why no one could see him.
"I just saw you a few months ago," Harry spoke, frowning. "During the summer. What... What happened?"
"I said it's none of your fucking business."
Harry sighed. "Sensitive topic to ask dead people why they've died, I guess."
"I'm not fucking dea- Oh, for fucks sake," Malfoy cursed when he saw Harry's teasing grin, though he didn't seem so angry now, moving to stand next to Harry.
"Do you spend most of your time by the lake now?" Harry asked, looking over at Malfoy, who was staring down at the water.
"Yes. It's the only place where I feel like myself still. Ican't even see or hear myself unless I'm near it. It's disconcerting."
"Does Zabini know you're..?"
"Transparent and tied to this place?" Malfoy shot him a withering stare. "Yes. They all do. They come to visit me, when they have time. I think seeing me like this frightens them, though."
Harry frowned. "I... Do you know why Parkinson is terrified of me?"
Malfoy snorted. "She has nightmares about you."
"Nightmares?"
"Yes. Of the night at the battle. I hear she ordered the entire great hall of fleeing students and professors to 'Get him'- meaning you, of course. She thinks you're plotting revenge."
Harry's brows furrowed, trying to remember for a few moments before finally remembering the 'What are you doing, he's right there! Get him!' that she'd shouted. Harry sighed.
"Honestly, so much happened that night I'd forgotten it happened."
Malfoy nodded, looking contemplative. "I'd assumed so- we all did, except her. She claimed you glare at her and sent her messages through her nightmares."
Harry snorted. "I'm shit at legilimency, so not likely."
"I told her that someone as incapable of you couldn't even get away with murder, and then she said that you didn't have to get away with it because you're Harry Potter and the world would bow to your whim no matter what you did or demanded."
Harry couldn't help but snort. "Sounds about right. Though, seriously, I hold nothing against her or anything."
"Again, we assumed as such," Malfoy said, shooting him a sideways glance. "I'll let her know you said so next time she visits." Malfoy then gestured to the map, adding, "is that how you've been finding me when I least wanted to be found, these last few years?"
Harry looked down at the map and blanched. "I- Err, yeah. I suppose now that you're dead, it doesn't matter that you know."
Malfoy took a deep breath. "I'm not dead, Potter. Not yet, at least."
Not dead, not entirely dead, not yet… Nothing Malfoy was saying really made sense. But the blond- former blond? Everything was grayscale for him now, as a ghost- was clearly not incentivized to talk about it.
Harry looked over at the new tower they'd built. It was closest to the lake, now that the astronomy tower had been destroyed. "Can you... Are you close enough to the lake when you enter the common rooms?" Malfoy scowled at him, and Harry blinked. "You haven't tried?"
"No, I haven't tried," Malfoy's scowl deepened. "I'm not exactly welcome, even if it is. Pansy, Blaise and Theo are worried that if they're seen with a ghost that won't interact with anybody else, they'll get thrown into Azkaban for black magic. I don't blame them."
Harry took a moment to realize who Malfoy was referring to when he said 'Theo'. Theodore Nott, should've been obvious, but Harry didn't think Malfoy would be the type to bestow nicknames upon even his friends.
"So you just sit out here? All alone?" Harry asked, frowning over at Malfoy, who shrugged.
"Where do you sleep? Eat?"
Malfoy gave him an incredulous look. "I'm a ghost. I don't do those things."
"But you said you weren't-"
"No, I'm not dead, but I'm still a ghost."
Harry blinked at him. "Err... Malfoy, to be a ghost you have to be dead."
"Lucky me, I've made an exception."
Harry frowned over at Malfoy, wondering how he'd died. Despite the blond's claims, he had to be dead. You couldn't be alive and dead at the same time- unless you were Harry Potter and had a fragment of a soul inside you to die for you. Even then, he'd never been a ghost. A ghost was a clear indication of someone who’d died and couldn’t move on. Refused to or just couldn’t. Harry wasn’t surprised to find himself somewhat pitying Malfoy.
"Then how did this exception occur, then?" Harry asked, sitting down at the edge of the dock.
Malfoy joined him, staying silent for a long time.
"It's none of your business,” the ghost eventually settled for.
"If there's a chance for you to still be alive, don't you want help getting your body back?"
Malfoy frowned down at the water, blinking at the inky blackness. "I don't... I don't know if there is."
"There might be," Harry protested, drawing his bare foot through the water.
"It's embarrassing. How I ended up like this."
"I can guarantee I've seen or heard or even been the brunt of worse. I believe you were the one who charmed all those pins-"
"I’m not talking about it, so mind your own bloody business,” Malfoy said bluntly, glaring at him. “Merlin, I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You're just as annoying as I remembered."
"Yeah, but you don't have anybody else to talk to, do you?" Harry asked, letting himself fall backwards onto the dock, letting out a soft 'oomph' noise when his back hit the wooden boards as he looked up at the sky.
He'd always liked the dock, and he didn’t let this get to him, eyes tracing the few constellations that he knows.
"Do you know any constellations?" He finds himself asking, looking over at Malfoy, who was frowning down at him.
"Only my own."
Harry snorted. "Conceited prat."
"Yes, I suppose."
"Show me it. I don't know your constellation. Only the ones that can be used to find your way when you're lost."
Begrudgingly, Malfoy does so- pointing out the vague connections of stars that form the dragon.
"Your constellation isn't very helpful. Orion's belt, the dippers, the north star-"
"The north star isn't a constellation, you fool," Malfoy huffed out something that may have been a laugh. "Though, I suppose you're right. The Dragon doesn't do much but tell a story." Malfoy paused, looking at the constellation with a frown. He looked like he wanted to ask something, but didn't.
Harry didn't pressure him.
They sat in silence for nearly an hour before Harry started to yawn and Malfoy frowned at him. "You should go back and get some rest before classes."
"Tomorrow's Saturday."
"Oh." Malfoy looked somewhat saddened- perhaps by the inability to keep time.
"Though," Harry pushed himself into a sitting position with a sigh, "I really should get some sleep."
"Oh," Malfoy simply repeated.
"I'll... Come back, yeah?" Harry offered, tilting his head. Transparent Malfoy frowned. "Tomorrow?"
"Do what you will, Potter," he responded after a short silence, turning back to face the lake. "I don't care."
"Can I bring Ron and Mione?"
He can see Malfoy's shoulders tense. "I can't stop you. I'm here for anyone to see, Potter. It's just far too cold for anyone to come out here."
Harry frowned. "Right. Err... Okay. I'll see you then."
"Mm."
Harry can't bring himself to look back as he trudged back into the castle. The second he hit the pillow, the warm blankets drawn over his shoulders, he passed out.