Chapter 3
Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.
3
In fact his ex boyfriend was not agitated, he was hysterical. Harry had to shoulder past a ring of mumbling aurors, two magical barriers, and a phalanx of bodyguards before he reached the curious sight of his ex-boyfriend shrieking himself hoarse at a bluish spectral in a coat of arms. The remains of several costly lamps and glassware lie shattered on the carpet
He nodded at an auror he remembered being vaguely acquainted with in school “Some summoning charm turned awry?”
“You’d think so, But your boy said he had nothing to do with it,” sighed the Auror.
“He’s not my bloody boy,” Harry glowered.
“Yeah, whatever,” the auror said. “Take a look at your ghost here, see that?”
Harry took a proper look at the spectral. He was reminded of the Bloody Baron; they both wore the same ancient coat of arms, with thick moustaches and stern expressions. He noticed the Malfoy crest on his chest and shield.
“Did you summon this thing or not?” he shouted to Draco.
The blonde apparently had the sense to turned his shrieking to where it would achieve more leverage- or do more damage, depending on whose side one was on.
“Gods, Harry I’m being haunted!”
“I’m utterly unsympathetic. Now did you summon this thing or not?”
“No!”
“No?” Harry pressed. Beside him, he could hear the auror snort with disbelief. “Not another one of your little experiments?”
“God damnit, I said I didn’t summon the thing.” Draco snapped. “Why would I? He’s hideous! Look at that mustachio- its vile!”
“Shut up, I believe you,” Harry nudged past the ring of bodies towards the blond. “It doesn’t seem to be malicious-“
Before he could finish his sentence however, the spectral had turned towards him and brandished a gauntlet clad fist at him. His other arm clasped a spiked ball on a chain.
“I wouldn’t go any further if I was you,” the auror called out. “That’s no Hogwarts Ghost- those spikes can pierce flesh if it decides to materialise on mortal planes.”
“What is it?” Harry asked as he stepped slowly away. The ghost stilled, and his arm lowered slightly.
“Ancestral Guardian Spirit is my guess,” answered the Auror. ‘But there’s nothing we can do about this one, sorry.”
“Why not? Cant you evict or exorcise it?” Harry said, staring at the spectral. What he was told made sense, however- the light hair and moustache was a dead give away, and it was not difficult to imagine a lineage between the two.
The Auror shook his head. “Its not like a common spirit which can be banished or trapped. This one can only be ended by the person who sent it, which would be your boy, except that he’s probably forgotten how-“
“Hellooo?! Is my voice invisible? Can I not be heard? I said I didn’t summon this thing!”
“Well, somebody from your family did. So congratulations, Mister Malfoy, on procuring your very own private family ghost.” The Auror said briskly. “Sorry we cant be more help, but this is essentially a private affair and doesn’t come under any public jurisdiction. Lets go, fellas. Good day, Potter. Malfoy, enjoy your ghost.”
Harry watched grimly as the Head Auror marched his officers though the door. “Fucking useless civil servants- and they wonder why I don’t want to join them.”
“So what are we going to do?” Draco said. “I can’t go around with a dead great-great-grandfather following me everywhere!”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “We?”
“Are you going to leave me like this after six years together, sharing every joy and misery-‘
‘I don’t recall you sharing in any of my miseries,” Harry pointed out. “And I’m joking- you know that, you prat.’
‘You always had the most atrocious timing,’ Draco sniffed, calming down at last. ‘Dear god, I think my fringe just came apart again. Slinker! Where is that beastly house elf?’
‘Right. I’ll be leaving now,’ Harry told him, and turned around.
‘What? NO! You cant leave me alone with some medieval tin can- one could get Tetanus from being around all that foil, not to mention how dreadfully out of fashioned a tin uniform-‘
Harry turned around again to glower at Draco, who had struck up some tragic, brat-like pose.
‘I’m not leaving you alone, Draco, I’m leaving you in the loving care of your great great great grandfather. No doubt you’ll have plenty of catching up to do, seeing as you both never met in yours or his life till now.’
‘But what will I do with him?’
‘Give him the five cents tour of your dungeons, no doubt he’ll be happy to remember the many nostalgic hours he whiled away, beheading pheasants and such. So ta. I’m off. Plenty to do, you know.’
‘But Harry!’
‘Tomorrow!’ Harry lied as he sprinted out of the hall. ‘I promise!’
To his credit, the Gryffindor only broke into laughter after he left the manor.
*
‘There’s justice in this world after all,’ Harry said a few days later as he sat across a scowling Draco with a open bottled of cold butterbeer. He was quite contented with the status, even though it was a strain to hear what the blond was muttering about under his breath from the opposite side of the room. It wasn’t his fault Draco’s pet spirit was a tad possessive about personal space.
After a lengthy hole-up in the very dusty and long-languishing Malfoy library, its youthful owner not one entirely enamoured of reading of any sort- they’d managed to find a picture of the ancient spectral in one of the painstakingly detailed records on family lineage, who turned out to be a great great great great grand uncle of Draco’s. He went by the name of Dempsey, which was not been surprise. He was also a Knight of the Crusade, which was an unpleasant shock for poor Draco .
‘Famed for his penchant for beheading pagans. Capital.’ Harry had said sourly.
‘Why am I doomed to be surrounded by that most plebeian of religions, Christianity?’ Draco wailed.
‘Who cares? The man’s been dead for a thousand years.’
‘The Holy See is a muggle!’ Draco howled. ‘It’s god damm muggle worship! Its not proper Malfoy worship!’
‘The only proper worship being your own damn inbred selves?’
Draco had stalked off, muttering to himself about blood traitors and changing his last name.
So now here Harry was again, days later, still stuck in Malfoy manor keeping his rather irritating ex-boyfriend company while he ranted and whined and ate pineapple-tart fillings, dropping pastry shells everywhere for Harry to step on. He was coming to see that breaking up with Draco had nothing to do with how much he would still remain in one’s life. There were days when he wondered if there was any difference
Of course, he also pointedly ignored the internal voice that reminded him that the free meals and clean bed sheets that came with being a guest at the Manor was nothing to thumb his nose at either, considering the less than pleasant conditions of his own abode.
Harry followed the trail of pastry shells to the drawing room, where Draco was dictating his will to a rather harassed lawyer.
‘I want Black Forest Callas for the dais, not bloody lilies; I don’t care if they’re not in season.’
‘What in blaze are you shimmering on about now?’
‘I’m preparing for my funeral, seeing nobody cares anymore that I live or die, and its only a matter of time before that walking tin dispatches me to Hell- thank you fucking much, father dearest-‘
‘What do you think his rationale is?’ Harry interrupted him mid-rant.
‘Who could phantom his pure-blood drivel in life, much less whatever obscure message he was trying to send from the bowels of hell-‘
Draco’s pacing took him a little too close to Harry, and they suddenly found a broad sword brandished between them. ‘You see? It wont let anyone come near me!” Draco cried. Then when the thought struck him, it rose into a shriek- ‘My God, I’ll never have sex again!’
‘Didn’t you floo Snape yesterday? What did he say?’
The blond threw himself into an armchair. ‘Not much. By the time the old man was done laughing, he was quite out of breath. We’re to drop by tomorrow with Sir Ectoplasm in tow for a proper examination.’
‘Splendid, because I’ve spent the last eight years out of Hogwarts simply fantasizing about a reunion with Snape.’
‘Adulthood really doesn’t agree much with you, does it?’ Draco observed critically. ‘It’s like the older you grow, the longer that pole up your ass becomes...’
Harry rolled his eyes.
‘-and I think it has something to do with self-denial. Because the sad, lonely truth is…‘ Draco paused dramatically; ‘-you hate that you’re gay.’
‘Oh, that’s good. I’ve never heard that one before.’
‘You’ve never read a book or saw a show that depicted a gay superhero, and it pisses the helluva you, sugar.’
‘Go to Christian hell.’
‘I’m only saying it as someone who cares.’
‘I’m not in denial,’ Harry grated out. ‘I’m harassed. By you.’
Draco looked bizarrely sympathetic. ‘There, there.’
*