I own nothing! All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, 'A Christmas Carol' to Charles Dickens, and 'God Bless Us Everyone' to Mr. Alan Silvestri. All I lay claim to are my own characters.

Draco Malfoy has been a pain in the Spirits of Christmas' neck long enough. On Christmas Eve he receives an ominous warning from an uninvited guest and is consequently taken on the journey of his life. Can the lessons the Spirits have to teach him bring him back to the light, or will he be doomed to am afterlife of horror and constant wandering with no chance of peace? Please Read and Review! Thank you!

Ebenezer Scrooge: Draco Malfoy

Bob Cratchit: Ron Weasley (sort of)

Marley's Ghost: Abaraxas Malfoy

Tiny Tim: Ginny Weasley

Belle: Anna (OC)

Fezziwig: Anna's Mother

Two Portly Gentlemen: Two Pretty Hufflepuff Girls

Nephew Fred: Thomas (OC)

Ignorance and Want: Heartless

Christmas Past: Kairi

Christmas Present: Sora

Christmas Future: Riku

Miscellaneous Characters

Harry Potter

The Weasley Family

Mad-Eye Moody

Remus Lupin

Gregory Goyle

Albus Dumbledore

Christmastime had finally arrived for the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and everyone was feeling elated in spite of the recent excitement. Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley's younger sister, had passed out during the middle of Charms class and she wouldn't wake up. She was now in St. Mungo's hospital and was expected to be there through the rest of the holidays. However, it was an event that had been pushed to the back of everyone's minds because for the next two weeks the students wouldn't have to pick up a quill or piece of parchment, and could finally spend some time relaxing with their families. That is, everyone who hadn't elected to stay behind at school. A select few students had put their names down to remain on the grounds during Christmas and among them were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy. The first week of Christmas break passed far too quickly and before they knew it, Christmas Eve was upon them. That evening at dinner, Draco was sitting in his usual spot at the Slytherin table and was showing off a few of his presents that he had opened earlier that morning to anyone who walked by.

"See?" he remarked, "This is my new cauldron. It's made of the finest quality materials and reinforced with a Non-Spilling Spell so it's guaranteed never to melt or make a mess. My father knows just where to get these. Oh, and look at this: brand new robes. My father made sure I have the best that money can buy."

As Draco continued boasting, Ron and Harry had taken an unfortunate moment to walk by the Slytherin table on the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was asking Ron,

"Do you know when Ginny is coming back? Ever since she passed out in class there's been no word."

Ron rolled his eyes and replied in a bored tone,

"You'll know when I do, Harry."

Draco saw them coming and when they had gotten close enough, he said loudly enough for them to hear,

"It's just too bad that Weasley couldn't get anything new this year. I heard that all he got was an old pair of hand-me-down robes that used to belong to his sister."

Draco's small contingent of Slytherins found this uproariously funny and Ron went pink in the ears. If there was any one thing that he could not stand, it was having his family mocked. He had a murderous look on his face and he balled up his fists at his sides as though everything in him was resisting giving Malfoy a lovely punch in the jaw. Harry noticed it, placed a hand on his shoulder, and led him away from the group of chuckling Slytherins. The pair of friends made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, and Ron audibly muttered horrible things he wanted to see happen to Malfoy the whole way there. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry spoke the password (Icicles) and she let them through. As soon as they made it into the Common Room, Ron made a mad dash up the stairs with more comments about things he would like to see befall Malfoy.

"Stick his head in a pot of Bobotuber pus and then leave him out in the Forbidden Forest for Aragog to get him. Bet they'd loooooove to get their slimy claws on him. Yeah, fresh pure-blooded Malfoy anyone?"

When he had reached his dorm, he was about to throw his book-bag on the bed, but noticed that a letter from his parents was already occupying it. It was addressed from St. Mungo's, which Ron thought particularly odd, and he picked it up. He had just opened it when Harry walked into the dorm and asked,

"You alright, mate?"

"Yeah, hang on. Mum and Dad sent me a letter."

Ron's eyes scanned the page, and the farther down his eyes went the whiter he seemed to grow. He never took his eyes off the parchment as he felt his knees suddenly grow weary and his bed had to catch him. He read the page a few more times, hardly believing the message that it bore, and his behavior scared Harry so bad that he rushed to Ron's side and began to shake him a little.

"Ron! Ron, what's the matter?"

Without a word Ron handed over the letter to Harry, his hand shaking the entire time. Harry read it and at once understood why Ron suddenly looked like he had been cursed with a Slug-Burping Spell again. The letter read,

Dear Ron,

Your dad and I have some bad news that, unfortunately, we cannot be there to tell you in person. We have been detained at St. Mungo's for a while and we will come and get you after the holidays are over. We have already sent Professor Dumbledore a letter explaining the situation. Ginny is dying. We're sorry that we had to tell you this way, but there was nothing else we could do. We love you very much and we will see you after the holidays.

Mum and Dad

Harry read the letter several more times scarcely believing the words that it bore. He sank to the floor and silently pleaded,

"Please not Ginny. Oh, God, not Ginny!"

Meanwhile, downstairs, the Slytherin table was still chuckling at Draco's rather unfunny joke towards Ron. After a moment or two, the laughter died down and Draco resumed showing off his trinkets to whoever would look at them. A few minutes of this passed and Draco noticed a second-year Gryffindor coming towards the Slytherin table. He was wearing second-hand robes, carrying a decidedly used copy of Standard Book of Charms Grade 2 under his arm, and humming Joy to the World to himself. Just as the boy walked by, Draco took it upon himself to try and insult the boy.

"Hey look, guys; looks like we've got a distant relative of the Weasels. Look at him: same old hand-me-down robes, same stupid look on his face; you think he fancies a swim in the upstairs toilet?"

The boy continued walking as though he hadn't heard Draco at all, and it pissed Draco off. He could not think of a time where he hadn't been able to instill fear and intimidation in someone younger than him and he was not about to be ousted by this shrimp of a boy.

"Goyle, get him," Draco muttered contemptuously under his breath. The decidedly taller and stronger Slytherin got up from the table and tried to make a grab for the second-year, but the smaller boy deftly stepped out of the way and Goyle's hands grasped naught but the air. The second year then wheeled around on his heels and began walking back towards Draco. When he had reached him, Draco smirked and smugly asked,

"You think you can take me on? Go ahead; I dare you."

The second year looked up at him and thrust his hand forward. For a second, Draco thought he was going to get slugged and he balled up his fist, but then he saw that the boy had extended his hand in greeting instead of attack. Draco stared at him with confusion as the boy boldly proclaimed,

"Hi; I'm Thomas. I'm a second-year Gryffindor and I would like to invite you and all the Slytherins to have Christmas dinner with the Gryffindors tomorrow night."

Draco stared blankly at the boy as he continued,

"Things have been bleak around here with all this talk of the Dark Lord returning, so in the spirit of Christmas maybe we can forget about the fighting between our Houses for a while and have a Merry Christmas. Whaddayasay?"

Thomas' hand never lowered as Draco continued staring at him. Suddenly he felt his insides seethe in anger and he went red in the face as he proclaimed in a tone that positively dripped with acid,

"I would rather face a fire-breathing dragon than consort with the likes of Gryffindor! Goyle! Teach this little filth who's in charge around here!"

When it became apparent that his efforts for peace were fruitless (and he had a raging Slytherin on his tail that reminded him of an angry gorilla) Thomas took off for Gryffindor Tower as fast as his legs would carry him. He made it through the door just in time and collapsed behind the portrait of the Fat Lady completely out of breath. He laid there for a few moments and quickly decided that trying to invite the Slytherins to Christmas dinner was not the smartest idea. Once he was breathing a bit easier, he got to his feet and walked to the fireplace to relax in one of the armchairs there. However, two fifth-year Gryffindors who he observed to be quite grief-stricken already occupied them.

Back downstairs, Draco was still in a tizzy about the nerve of that little runt. In his anger, he got up from the table without so much as a word to his fellow Slytherins and picked up his things to take back to the his dorm. Just as he had everything in his arms and began walking away, two Hufflepuff girls who had also elected to stay behind at school approached him. They were both carrying clipboards and wide smiles on their faces. Draco eyed them with contempt as he sneered,

"And what do YOU want?"

The bolder of the two girls replied in a pleasant voice,

"Hi Draco. We won't take much if your time, but…"

"No."

"'No?' But you don't even know what it is yet."

"Whatever you're doing, I don't want any part of it."

"Well, we're not selling anything, if that's what you think."

"Then why are you wasting my time?"

"Glad you asked. You see, a few of us are trying a raise some money for some of the worse off students who elected to stay behind so they can go and get themselves something nice at Hogsmeade the next trip out. Will you help us?"

Draco set his stuff down and crossed his arms. He calmly asked,

"These 'worse off' students have parents right?"

"Well yes, but…."

"And these parents have jobs, right?"

"Of course, but…"

"So these parents should be able to give their little Mudbloods plenty of pocket money to go and spend on useless junk, right?"

Both girls recoiled a little at the term 'mudblood' but the bolder girl pressed on,

"Many of these students' parents only make enough money to put a roof over their heads and food on the table. They can't spare a single Knut towards Christmas gifts and a lot of those students would rather die than ask them for the extra cash."

Draco rolled his eyes at them and said,

"If they would rather die, then they had better do it so that I don't have to look at their stupid faces anymore! Now for the last time, GO AWAY!"

He picked up his gifts and bolted past the two girls missing the looks of contempt that they both gave him. As he walked down into the dungeons toward the Slytherin Common Room he muttered angrily to himself about what a mess the school had become. An invitation to the Gryffindor table and people trying to commit highway robbery? Draco had never felt so insulted in his life, and he had already decided that his father would hear about the evening's events. He continued muttering to himself until he reached the invisible seam in the wall that would allow him entrance into the Common Room. He spoke the password, but nothing happened. He tried again, but the wall remained impassive as ever. Great; a perfect ending to a perfect evening. Draco swore loudly and went to kick the wall, but he saw something that stopped his foot halfway from connecting with the solid stone.

The head of his Grandfather had materialized in front of him standing by itself from the stone wall. This was impossible as Draco's Grandfather had died several years ago of the Dragon Pox and no trace of his ghost had ever been seen. Draco stood astonished with his foot in the air, giving him the appearance of a befuddled flamingo. The face that was protruding from the stone was pale and wan as though it had been sick a long time and the eyes….. oh those eyes. Draco would never forget them as long as he lived. They were an eerie green the color of poison and, in spite of the color, Draco could only find one word to describe them: lifeless. They stared blankly like doll's eyes and seemed to see nothing. Draco stared at the face a moment longer and when he found his voice, it came out as little more than a whimper as he stammered,

"Gr…Grandfather?"

As soon as that single word left his mouth, the apparition's mouth split open and uttered a loud, wild shriek that resounded throughout the dungeon. It nearly deafened Draco and he fell backwards and turned away from the wall covering his ears. Several times he shouted,

"STOP! STOP!" and it was just then that Goyle found him writhing on the floor. The larger Slytherin looked confused at his friend's behavior and went into a defensive crouch. He raised his fists and demanded in his gravelly voice,

"You alright? Where are they? I'll smash 'em!"

Draco gingerly withdrew his hands from his ears and looked back at the wall. There was nothing there! The face was gone! He got up off the floor and gave Goyle a sharp look. Now red in the face from embarrassment, he sharply said,

"Tell anyone that you found me like that, and I'll hex you so bad that your own mother won't recognize you."

Hastily Goyle nodded and spoke the password that allowed him access into the Common Room. Draco hung back a moment to inspect the wall, but he found it smooth and unyielding with no trace of a ghostly head. He mentally scolded himself for acting like a scared sheep, picked up his gifts that had clattered all over the floor when he fell, and spoke the password to get into the Common Room. After a shower and a few bites of the treats he had bought from Honeydukes, he felt a little better. He went to his dorm to see if Goyle was sleeping, and found him snoring away. He double-checked, as was his ritual when he did this, to make sure that no one was watching him and he started shuffling around in his trunk. He pulled a secret latch that only he knew about and it revealed a secret compartment. From that compartment he pulled a book and he set it on the floor beside him. He closed the compartment and hid the book under his dressing-gown then walked back down into the Common Room and began reading.

He read until he felt himself begin to grow comfortably drowsy, and his head began lolling from side to side until it came to rest on his chin. His eyes had just closed when he heard something that roused him from his dreamy state. The sound of something heavy being drug across the floor outside the Slytherin dorm was getting closer and closer, and Draco was suddenly reminded of his Grandfather's ghostly face as he drew his wand. He tried to sound bold as he shouted,

"Peeves, if this is some kind of prank, I'm not amused! I'll have Professor Snape on you!

However, his threat seemed to grow unheeded for the sound was growing closer all the time. Finally, Draco could make out the distinct sounds of metal being drug across stone and he shouted again,

"That's enough, Peeves! Stop it!"

At that, the sound ended abruptly right outside the entrance to the Common Room. Draco breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the fire. However, his relief was short-lived. As soon as he turned back around, something came flying through the solid stone and had come to rest at the side of the chair where Draco was sitting. This scared him so bad that he practically flew out of the chair (sending his book flying as well) and to the other side of the room where he got a good look at the offending object. It was a set of scales. A heavy, off-kilter, and unbalanced looking set of scales attached to a thick chain that could have easily weighed several pounds. He stared at the unusual object for a moment, and then the sound started up again. The chain went a bit slack, and Draco knew that something had entered the room. Unwilling to do so, but unable to help it, his eyes followed the now-slack chain upwards and his eyes came to rest on a horrible ghoulish figure that would haunt his dreams to the end of his days. This was not like the ghosts he was used to seeing. They were silvery and kind of shimmered. This being was an eerie green the color of dead flesh and was covered in large boils all over its body. Once in a while, one of those boils would pop and a viscous silver fluid would drain out and dribble down. The chain was much thicker and longer than Draco had originally thought, too. It snaked across the apparition's torso, arms and legs and lead off into tendrils that bore curious adornments. Several more off-kilter scales were attached to it, as well as heavy-looking money boxes, strange documents that looked like they were made of strong iron and an assortment of odd badges and honors that all read the same word: FOOL. Draco couldn't stop shaking at the sight of this thing. He had seen ghosts before, so why did this ghost have this effect on him? Nonetheless, he tried to draw himself up to his fullest height and he shouted at the ghost with all the courage he could muster,

"Who do you think you are coming in here and disturbing me? Are you a friend of Peeves? I swear that when my father hears about this, he's gonna…"

Draco never finished his sentence because the ghost let out another long wail that resounded throughout the Common Room and it caused Draco to fall back to his knees and his hands flying back to his ears. When the ghost finished shrieking it said in a voice that sounded pathetically woeful and frighteningly eerie,

"Draco."

But Draco refused to look up at it as he quivered on the floor and stammered in a small voice that was little more than a whimper,

"Wh…wha…what do you…want with…m…..me?"

The ghost lowered his eyes and set them upon the frightened boy. The slack mouth opened ever so slightly this time and replied in a soft voice,

"Much."

Hearing the ghost speak more softly gave Draco the courage to look up at it, but he did not leave the floor as he asked in that same whimper,

"Who….who…are you?"

The ghost's face contorted into an expression that could have been surprise, but it was hard to read. Nonetheless, the voice remained unchanged as it said,

"I am your Grandfather: Abraxas. Do you not recognize me?"

"Um…..sort of. You died when I was real young. Um…..Grandfather? Could you not drag those chains around like that? See none of the other ghosts have chains and….."

"SILENCE!"

"AHHHH! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" he shouted and buried his head in his arms again.

"I have not come to harm you, boy! I have come to warn you! You are in grave danger."

However Draco did not dare look back up and continued to lay there on the floor with his head buried in his arms. The Ghost sighed impatiently and said,

"Get up off that floor, Draco. It is not becoming of your bloodline."

Draco just lay there whimpering. All the arrogance and swagger had left him and had left little more than a quivering, frightened child. The ghost sighed again and said,

"Perhaps I was too harsh with you. I forgot that you are, after all, still a child. Please get up and listen to me. I have something to tell you and my time here is brief."

Draco, though still scared beyond words, looked back up at the Ghost and saw that its expression had gone from a blank dead look to one of almost fatherly comfort.

"Get up off that dirty floor and sit in the chair like a proper young man," repeated the Ghost in a stern tone, and Draco didn't dare disobey. Once he had taken his seat, the Ghost took the chair across from his Grandson. Finding himself in this more casual manner, Draco ventured a question,

"Why…..why are you all chained up like that?"

The Ghost looked woefully down at his bonds and replied,

"The chains that you see are the result of a life of lusting after power. It was never enough for me. I always had to have more and now….now I am doomed to wander the earth for all eternity to witness the charity and compassion that I can no longer share with the world. I was wrong. Our whole family was wrong, and now I can find no peace. No rest shall ever fall on my limbs again, and there is nothing I can do."

"What are all those things on the chains?" Draco asked, feeling a little braver.

"The objects that you see are the instruments that I used in my desire to acquire more power. These iron-clad documents, all the bribe money, the so-called badges of honor and these scales that show the unbalance in my sense of justice…..all monuments to an unfulfilled life that has amounted to nothing more than a tragic afterlife where I am a mere shadow of my former self."

"But, Grandfather, I always heard that you were a great man who would stop at nothing to bring honor to the family name."

The Ghost stood up from the chair and shouted,

"HONOR? You call this honorable? My honor was lost long ago! Skewed into a foul perversion that became unrecognizable and unrecoverable! THIS is not honor, boy! THIS is the epitome of dishonor!"

Draco shied away from the Ghost and said,

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!"

The Ghost sat back down and said in a softer tone,

"However, I have come to warn you."

"Y….yes. You already said that. Didn't you also say something about me being in danger?"

"I did."

"So, what's the danger?"

"Haven't you been listening? I have come to offer you a chance of escaping my fate. Or would you know the weight of the chain you yourself have?"

Draco got a panicked look on his face and he looked down expecting to see thick heavy chains snaking across his arms, but there was nothing there."

"I don't see any chain."

"Mine were also invisible until the day of my death. Yours is not yet that heavy, but if you continue down your current path, you will find yourself fettered and unable to break free."

"So what am I supposed to do? I don't want to be chained like that!"

"Then listen well. You will be haunted by three Spirits."

"Wha; haunted? I don't want to be haunted! Is this the only chance that I have?"

"It is. Expect the first when the clock chimes one."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"

"Expect the second on the stroke of two."

Now feeling unable to argue with his Grandfather on the point about being haunted at all, he tried one last ditch effort,

"Can't they just all come at the same time? What's the point of coming at different times of the night?"

However the Ghost appeared not to hear him and continued,

"The third will appear when the final stroke of midnight has ceased to vibrate. Oh, and I should also warn you. These Spirits look (ahem) different than what you are used to. Do not insult them, whatever you do."

Draco just sat there, rooted to the spot. Suddenly the Ghost got a little too close for comfort and Draco shrank back from it as far as his chair would let him as it said,

"I cannot warn you enough not to follow in my footsteps, Draco. That path leads to no good."

The Ghost withdrew and a few more boils erupted, spilling that disgusting silvery liquid down a chain. However, it ignored it and continued to look at Draco with all the care and love that a ghost can muster.

"Please heed me and do not shut out the lessons that these Spirits have to give you. Take them and keep them close to your heart."

Finally, Abraxas' Ghost turned away from Draco, wearily picked his chains up and hovered back to the entrance of the Common Room. He turned around only once more to say,

"This is the last time I can see you Draco. Don't go looking for me, for you will not find me."

Draco just sat there in silence as the Ghost departed from him and then from the hall of Hogwarts forever. After the Ghost had left, Draco remained sitting in the armchair for a while pondering everything Abraxas' Ghost had told him. Soon, his thoughts became jumbled and every few seconds he would look around the room expecting to see some horrible denizen of the Spirit World that had come to steal his soul. But the longer he looked, the more he came to tell himself that he had just been having a really strange hallucination brought on by eating sweets before bed. Finally exhaustion got the better of him and he lifted his body, which felt heavier than it ever had before, out of the chair and he trudged his way up the stairs and to his bed. Luckily he found his book, so he picked it up and hid it underneath his dressing-gown and when he reached his trunk he replaced it in that little secret compartment. His book tucked safely away, he threw himself under the blankets and, mercifully, quickly fell into a dreamless sleep. It seemed as though he had just fallen asleep when a resounding chime from his bedside clock informed him that one o'clock had arrived.