Disclaimer: never did and never will own it. J.K. Rowling does.
Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix


~ Salazar's Heir - Hauntingly Yours ~


Thank you for your reviews!


Hey, Granger,

If you read this, it probably means that I'm dead. Let's just hope that you're not the Dark Lord's bride. This letter is for explaining things to you. I don't want you to think that you misunderstood me for all those years. You didn't. But then, you probably know it.

I didn't die for glory or because I realised I had been standing with the wrong side since the beginning. Those reasons are good for a Gryffindor, but not for a Slytherin. I died for revenge. For a while, I wanted revenge on you. Of course, you probably knew that too. But not for the reasons you think.

I didn't like you for all the years we were at school together. Nothing new there. You were just a filthy Mudblood and I was the heir of one of the finest pure-blood families. I guess you wouldn't quite summarise it like this though. Then seventh year happened and you're no more a filthy Mudblood. The Dark Lord wants you. Or rather, wants your blood. The great scheme began. It was exhilarating. But you know this: you are part of it, after all.

The point of my bitter rambling is coming. The narwhal tusk. I guess you hated me more than ever that day, when I thrust it in your ribs. Somehow, I hated myself that day too. I knew what I was doing and why, but I had the hope Snape wouldn't save you in time. The reason was not that I wanted you to die; the reason is that I wanted you for myself.

Nothing to do with you really. Just with your power. You were powerful and the more powerful the plaything is, the more esteemed her master is. But I wouldn't be your master. Snape would be. I think that's why my father didn't warn him beforehand. He would have wanted you as his plaything too. How does it feel to have been coveted by four powerful wizards?

But we Slytherins understand about power and hierarchy. Our Master commanded and we had to obey. Snape was useful only because of the blood in his veins. If not, you would have been ours. Does it give you a thrill? Who would you have preferred, had you had the choice? Snape or Malfoy, which one was the lesser of two evils?

But then I discovered something about the narwhal tusk. The purification ceremony. I bet you know about it too – you probably read about it somewhere. Only one way to purify a narwhal tusk: the blood of a living heart, shed by a unicorn horn. If the victim is willing, the purification is more powerful, but it doesn't really matter. Now don't you want to know who was the victim sacrificed to purify the narwhal tusk so it could be used to stab you? I think you know.

Indeed, my mother had been taken from Hogwarts before the incident. Thus before the weekend you spent in Snape's rooms. Tee-hee. I wish I had been a fly on the wall during that weekend. Certainly you know that my father had always been loyal to the Dark Lord, thus he never went along Dumbledore's plan of saying that my mother took his place in Azkaban. The Dark Lord knew perfectly that she was hidden in Hogwarts. It took him some time to find her – the wards on Hogwarts are astounding, or so he said – but he finally succeeded. Anyway, he left a simulacrum of my mother in her place, to fool Dumbledore, who was preoccupied about some other things so he didn't look on her too often. My father himself didn't know this. We discovered it only after Samhain. The Dark Lord, with some trusted minions, led my mother to the altar and used the blood of her heart to purify the tusk.

As soon as I knew of this, I wanted to take revenge on you. It was your fault; the Dark Lord needed the narwhal tusk so you would have the unicorn blood in your veins. I fiercely hoped that the events of Samhain would drive you to collapse, but no, you had to do the Gryffindor thing and keep fighting. Then I heard of the letter the Dark Lord had written to you, the one in which he said he would really make you his queen. I knew he meant it this time and I was blinded with fury.

I had already contacted Gregory and Vincent – in fact, just after Samhain – and after some explanations, we became friends again. There're no better allies than the enemies of one's foe. They told me about Nagini's venom and what you wanted to do with it. In fact, they forgot the reason why they wanted it in first place – I'm sure you can guess, if not, you can ask Pansy – and entered actively in my scheme.

They framed Snape. So I guess you can forgive him, since it wasn't his fault. Well, not really. They used a Confundus Charm, a dark version of it, naturally, taught by the Dark Lord himself. Snape couldn't have felt it and he accepted whatever they said, because that's how they wanted it. Though he really tried to fight it, but he didn't know how. So you became their slave. I had to admire you, when they brought you to me; your spirit wasn't broken even in slavery. In fact, you were fuelled by righteous anger. A true avenging angel.

Don't let it get to your head. I used you. I wanted you to destroy the Dark Lord and I needed you to be angry. Maybe you didn't understand, but Gregory and Vincent were your bodyguards until the confrontation. Unlike Snape, they had no pretence to keep, so they were more efficient.

I knew of your friendship with the unicorns and I knew they wouldn't let you alone. I counted on it, believe me. But you know this. After all, you had the narwhal tusk on you, as I asked you to. Though you probably thought that I would use you to purify it. So yes, I died before your eyes. In your arms, maybe. Probably. Thinking of it, it's quite hilarious.

I hope Voldemort appreciated my sacrifice to its just valour when you stabbed him with the tusk – as you did, didn't you? And yes, I said Voldemort, don't gasp or smirk. I grew out of the fascination for the man and a name is just a name. I fear it no more.

Hey, Granger, can you do one thing for me? Can you ask for my mother's body and bury us together? I know it sounds sentimental – and I have no doubt that you would love mocking me on this – but family is sacred to Slytherins. My father can explain this notion to you if you want to know more about it – that is, if Snape didn't kill him yet. We do not betray family in Slytherin, or else we're no Slytherin, like Black.

Know what, Granger? Thinking of it, while I'm writing this, you're not so bad, for a Mudblood. Now, don't faint at the compliment. Sooner or later, a pure-blood wizard would have told you those same words, though I suspect it would have been rather later than sooner. But I wanted to be the first to say it. But you knew that already. I could tell when you mentioned the price Voldemort had paid for me. You were right, you know. He really couldn't afford you. You were probably the only one he couldn't afford. Even Wonder Potter could be bought, I suspect. But nothing of what you want can be bought.

Ever wondered what was my price? It was you, Granger. Dead or alive, might I add before you get any idea. The only use I had for you was for your blood. With the power of the Fraud – or the Child – I could have brought my mother back to life. But I didn't know at that time that he had killed my mother. True. At that time, I only wanted you for the joy of breaking your spirit, because I wanted to see you on your knees, begging me. So, yes, Granger, you all the time.

One last thing, which amused me to no end. The socks. Gregory and Vincent spied on your Ravenclaw suitor when he went to the owlery on your request and they followed him. Using a very convenient spell, they discovered the content of the parcel. I guess it's some sort of private joke with Snape. It doesn't matter really. They thought it would be quite funny to confuse Snape further. They told me about it and I participated to their plan. In case you wonder, the unicorn socks were from me. Joy and despair. I'm sure you know the joy was for you, because you were alive, but for me, it was despair, because the unicorn blood running in your veins meant that my mother had died for it.

So yes, Gregory and Vincent are responsible for them. But you knew that already, the castle probably told you. I hope that at least, it made you realise that the castle wasn't as sure as you thought it was and that it is easy to spy on you for those who know what they are doing. Gregory and Vincent are good at spying; they got that from their fathers. They are among the best spies of Voldemort or so he told me. He liked to brag too much. I hope he suffered horribly when he died, even though it still won't be enough for me. But you know that; after all he killed your baby. Isn't revenge bittersweet? Slightly sweet, but not enough to take away the bitterness of the loss. A tangy taste of triumph, mixed with the sour realisation that is doesn't bring back the departed one. Ah, my lyricism struck again! It really sprouts at the oddest moments of my life.

Enough rambling! I don't even remember how many times I wrote 'you already know' in this letter, so I really wonder why I wrote such a long letter. You're really a know-it-all, Granger, you know that? Of course, you know it. You know everything. I'm sure you already knew I would die. Though maybe I managed to surprise you. I hope I did.

Farewell, Granger. I'll keep your place in the afterlife warm, next to me. Because, naturally, you'll come to me. After all, I died for you, didn't I? You can't turn your back to me now and I'll be haunting you forever… but you know that, don't you?

Hauntingly yours,

Draco Malfoy

PS. Enclosed is the original spell Voldemort used on you to make you barren. Don't worry, it's not for you; but if you ever stay with Snape, it will annoy him to no end. Think of it as a death gift.