Oh my lord it's been nearly a year since I updated. Oops, my bad! Busy busy gurl I have been. I started reminiscing bout how I used to write fan fics and then I was like………WHY NOT START UP AGAIN. Plus I've got a few reviews asking for me to continue. So I did………here it is………ENJOY :D

Chapter Two

So it had been twenty four hours since the ghost of Virginia Weasley had asked for my help. Well, I'm not sure if ghost is the right term. She was definitely not alive though, that's for sure. Now something was wrong with this picture. She had asked for my help. Me. Draco Malfoy. Son of the infamous Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man. At this stage in my life, I had already learnt about death, pain and misery. They were possibly my father's most cherished word in the English language. And of course, anything a man cherishes, he will naturally try his best to teach his children about. And did he ever.

My very first memory of my father is when I was all of three years old. I had wandered into his study by accident. Lucius was not pleased. And I was punished for it. Now tell me, what decent human being can justify performing an unforgivable curse over another? Let alone their three year old son. Yes, that was the first time I felt the wrath of Lucius Malfoy. Decidedly the worst though, was when he killed my mother. No, she was not sweet. And she sure as hell wasn't innocent. But she had loved me. She told me everyday of my life I was what kept her alive. I think Lucius was always jealous of that. It probably burnt him up inside that she loved me more than life itself, and that she hated him just as much. It's rather ironic actually, the one woman that taught me about the power of love taught me just as adequately about the power of hate. I think Lucius ' jealousy is what killed her. And is ignorance of course. He was stupid enough to believe she wouldn't die for her son. Oh, but she did. My own father tried to kill me in order to ruin my mother's life. But it didn't work. She jumped in front of me, straight into the path of Avada Kedavra. It was as simple as that. It wasn't until that day that Lucius' most cherished principles of death, pain and misery hit home to me. And I knew what it was like to feel pure hatred.

Perhaps it is because of my father that I had trouble coming to terms with why Ginny wanted my help. I knew all about he had manipulated and tortured her through Riddle's diary. How he had twisted an innocent and naïve little girl into a broken young woman. People were always telling me how much I looked like him. Everyone saw it. I'm sure she saw it. So how could she trust someone that reminded her so much of the man that tore her innocence away from her with such cruelty? I still don't really understand. But regardless, I really wanted to help her. We had one thing in common and that was our experience of how one man can ruin your life. And so I helped her. I'm not sure if I can say whether I spiralled upwards or downwards after that. I don't know where I'm spiralling now. Maybe I'll never know.

Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Now you know how I felt about her asking me for help. When Ginny told me she had no idea who her murderer was, I was a little sceptical. 'How,' I thought. 'She was there wasn't she?' Well, obviously. I had a strange feeling she wasn't telling me something. So I confronted her about it. Nicely, well, as nice as I could get. You have to understand that I was already jaded at the young age of seventeen. Life had dealt me a difficult hand so I wasn't exactly a bunch of daisies.

"Are you sure you don't remember Weasley?" I had asked her for the seventh time that evening.

She shook her head just as she had done every other time I'd asked that question.

I chose my next words carefully. I mean, I didn't want to be too much of a bastard. Come on, the girl was still getting used to the fact that she had been murdered.

I studied her. She looked perfectly tangible. Like I could just reach out and touch solid flesh. I refrained from doing so though. I didn't know what to expect. To me she seemed so real. If I had reached out and stroked her hair only to find my hand floated straight through her, I would've been freaked to say the least. I may have accepted that there was a dead girl hanging out with me, but I wasn't quite ready to get into the intricate details just yet.

She sighed quietly and looked at me sadly.

"Draco, I can honestly swear to you that I don't know who did this to me."

"I believe you Ginny," I replied with confidence. "It just feels like I'm hitting my head against a brick wall here. I don't know where to start. One minute I'm thinking, how can she not remember, and the next I'm telling myself I don't know what I'm talking about."

She smiled despite her sadness. "What do you mean you don't know what you're talking about? You're Draco Malfoy."

Her eyes were locked with mine. "Well, I've never, you know……" I diverted my gaze to the wall beside me.

"Never what?" she prodded.

"Died," I finished uncomfortably.

"Oh, I guess."

A few moments uncomfortable silence passed between us.

"Well, there were a few strange things going on that week," she said quietly.

"Like what?" I asked in a tone equal to hers.

She bit her lip nervously. "Well I guess you could say there were those who might have had…….a motive."

My head snapped up. This was what I wanted.

"Can you tell me about it?" I asked her gently, trying not to push it.

Ginny looked on the verge of tears. "It was a bad week for me," she muttered, bringing her hand up to wipe away a tear that had escaped.

I smiled at her resignedly. I knew she wasn't ready to talk. She knew it too.

I was going to bed. It had been one hell of a long day. Not that I would get much sleep. Then something dawned on me.

"Where did you go last night?"

She looked at me before bursting into tears. "I wandered the castle," she sobbed, "I have nowhere, Draco. I don't know what to do with myself."

I then opened my mouth and possible said the most stupid thing I could've said.

"Do you sleep?"

This made her cry even harder, "I don't know."

I felt my heart twinge. How could I have been so insensitive? Then I remembered. I was Draco Malfoy, duh.

"Well, why don't you try?"

She looked at me disbelievingly, "Didn't you listen? I have nowhere. Even if ghosts, or whatever it is that I am do sleep, I have nowhere to go."

"Oh," I replied dumbly, "you can sleep with me if you want. "

As fast as her tears had come they stopped. She smiled weakly at me. I got into bed and lifted the covers for her to get in beside me. She walked over and I swear my heart was ready to break through my chest it was pounding so hard. I had no idea what to expect. But I soon found out. Her small weight moved the bed as she got in and lay down. I could feel the warmth radiating off her. Reaching out I pulled her to me, expecting my hands to slide right through her, but they didn't. She felt as real to me as anyone ever could. It was definitely strange, but her presence was comforting.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep se murmured, "There are only three people who had a motive."

"Who?" I questioned drowsily.

"Cho Chang, Professor Snape and Harry Potter."

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