Author: Lee Velviet
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- Chapter Three - Alaraby
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Alaraby drifted in from the balcony, the silence pressing in on him from all sides.
It wasn't that he disliked the quiet - he actually preferred it to the noisy clamor of students rushing in and out of his tower during the day. It just hurt him, to see so many eager young faces, flushed with life, going about their day, their whole futures ahead of them.
It was just that, sometimes…it was rather lonely. He'd had many friends in life, had always been involved in something or other…and haunting the tower was dreadfully boring.
He snorted. As if he'd ever really 'haunted' anyone…
Well, there had been that one time he'd scared his nephew witless after he'd seen him trying to score with a somewhat unwilling partner he'd drug into the tower after hours…
Alaraby still couldn't get over how very much like Luc Draco had become…it was maddening. And he hadn't been able to do a damned thing to prevent it.
He had watched the small, pale, pointy faced boy arrive at the school in his first year, and had hoped his father hadn't truly gotten to him - but Draco had barely opened his mouth, and Alaraby had known nothing would help. The fact had only been hardened when he'd been sorted into Slytherin, after the Sorting Hat had barely touched his hair.
It had been disconcerting, watching the boy wander the halls from year to year, looking like a younger version of himself. It would have been like watching his life all over again, if the boy hadn't been so malicious and vindictive.
His nephew had wasted his teens being jealous and spiteful, and it had bothered Alaraby more than he cared to admit. The boy had had no idea what a gift he had been given, being able to live, and lead a natural life…and he'd had no respect for it, none. He'd left after his seventh year, and for all Alaraby knew, he'd gone off and become a bloody Death Eater.
Damn Lucius.
Alaraby settled into a chair behind a teacher's desk, and wondered if he'd ever get over feeling sorry for himself. How many years had it been since his death? Fifteen? Twenty?
He'd lost count somewhere.
A scrap of paper on one of the desktops caught his attention, and he leaned over to look at it. He smiled at the doodled cartoon on it - it was a hastily scrawled, less than flattering caricature of 'Sev' Snape, who was now the bloody Potions Master at Hogwarts, damn him. Back in the day, Alaraby had wanted to get that position himself, after school…he'd never wanted to leave Hogwarts.
It hadn't mattered though, had it?
Alaraby had never left.
He smiled bitterly as he stared at the horns someone had drawn on the top of Sev's head. He'd been a friend of the man's, once…they hadn't been terribly great friends, for Severus had been in Slytherin, and possessed of a dry wit, and a biting, sarcastic tongue, but their shared love of potions had given them something in common. Then the greasy bastard had gone and become a frigging Death Eater -
Alaraby forced the thought away.
He grinned. The drawing reminded him of all those times Sirius and Remus had gotten in trouble for drawing rude cartoons in class…
Alaraby turned his eyes away from the crumpled paper and lifted his feet to rest on top of the desk.
Closing his eyes, he tried to lull himself to sleep – well, it wasn't sleep really, but whatever it was, he didn't have to think while he was doing it. He'd actually 'slept' through a whole school term once, when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself.
Just as he drifted off, the door to the tower creaked open, and his eyes flew open.
She couldn't see him unless he wished it, but he was curious to see what her reaction would be, seeing him there.
It was the same girl, the same small, pretty little redhead from several weeks ago.
He watched her eyes widen as they settled on him and he smiled, folding his arms behind his head.
"Hullo."
Ginny looked at the apparition before her and felt faint. She clutched the doorframe, and stared.
The young man before her was unbelievably good looking - despite the fact that she could see right through him.
He soft deepness of his voice as he greeted her made her lose her breath…
"What? Would you rather I'd have jumped up and yelled 'boo'?"
Ginny shook herself and blinked at him, trying to find her voice.
"I know you can talk, I heard you scream a few weeks ago."
"A-are you teasing me?" Ginny watched him smile, slowly, and it was a thing of beauty.
"I suppose." The ghost very slowly looked her over, from the shoes on her feet to the top of her mass of red curls.
Ginny shifted uncomfortably, and stepped into the tower, shutting the door behind her.
"Er…am I…disturbing you?"
Alaraby looked at her with an amused twinkle in his eye and shook his head. "No."
"Oh." Ginny twisted her hands together and took several hesitant steps forward. "I know you like your privacy. Sir Nicholas told me…I just…wanted to meet you."
"I…see."
The ghost stood and drifted around the desk to settle on the edge of it. He looked at her and cocked his head to one side. "You're Molly and Arthur's girl, aren't you?"
"You...knew my parents?" She found this very odd. It was weird, thinking of her middle-aged parents walking around the halls of Hogwarts with this young man.
"We did go to school together," Alaraby stated dryly. "I had heard they'd gotten married after school - they've been keeping very busy, as many of you Weasley's as I've seen pass through here in the past years…" He pushed off the desk and came to hover near her. "I feel sorry for them about the twins, though. They looked like quite a handful. Reminded me of James and Sirius, sneaking about, pulling pranks…how are your parents, by the way?"
The nearness of his presence made her skin tingle, and the fine hair on her arms raised.
"Er…fine." Ginny was too intrigued by his ghostly appearance to make a longer statement. He wasn't made up of mostly just shades of gray and white, like the rest of the ghosts at Hogwarts, tinges of color remained in the tone of his skin, and clothing. He wore a plain black school robe open over his school uniform, and would have looked exactly like any other student, except for the fact that he was well - a ghost. Her eyes scanned his face, and she finally met his eyes straight on, and lost her breath again.
"Your eyes, they're silver, like -"
"Like Draco's, I know." He regarded her solemnly. "I - we - that is, Luc and I…we inherited our mother's eyes." A sadness came into his expression, and Ginny was sorry she'd reminded him of something that made him feel that way.
Ginny realized she was still staring and dropped her eyes. "Sorry…I just can't get over how much Draco looks like you. It's bewildering."
"He may look like me, but he doesn't act like me, thank Merlin," Alaraby murmured. "He may be my nephew, but I don't have to like him, the snakey little bastard…he's just like Luc was when he was his age…"
Ginny wasn't quite sure what to say. She looked back at his face and her eyes widened when she finally caught sight of raw, ragged looking scar running along one sharp cheekbone.
"What happened to your cheek?" She asked before she could stop herself.
He suddenly drifted back from her several feet, and raised a trembling hand to his cheek, looking stricken. "I - I fell. When I…when I died, I fell…and scraped the side of my face on a desk."
"Oh - I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to - I mean, I–I hope I haven't offended you." She looked down at her feet and cursed inwardly. "I have a bad habit of being extremely curious."
"It's all right," said Alaraby softly, so softly she barely heard him. He spoke in an absent-minded fashion. "I had just…forgotten about that. Don't worry. It's not wrong to be curious."
Ginny glanced up to see him staring fixatedly at a spot a few feet before the door. She suddenly felt horrible. She'd wanted to see him, talk to him, and here she was, reminding him of the nasty details of his undoubtedly awful death.
'Good going, Gin,' she muttered inwardly.
"Alaraby? I'm going to go. I'm sorry I bothered you."
He looked back at her with clouded eyes before he asked, "How did you know my name? No one has called me by my given name in decades."
Cheeks burning, Ginny dropped her eyes to her clasped hands. "After I talked to Sir Nicholas, and came back after the Christmas vacation, I-I went to the library and looked through the old school annuals."
"Very clever, aren't you?" He watched her for several long moments and then sighed. "Well, off you go, then."
Ginny turned and had her hand on the door handle when he spoke, gently, from over her shoulder.
"You'll come speak with me again, won't you?"
She closed her eyes and swallowed at the note of hopefulness in his voice. "Of course."
"Good. I'll be waiting."
Ginny uttered a quiet goodnight, and then fled the tower, her heart beating like rolling thunder in her ears.
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TBC
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