Disclaimer: The plot is owned by Charles Dickens, and the characters are owned by J. K. Rowling. I only merged the two.
This is a paper I wrote for English, but the end is a bit hurried. I plan to elaborate someday, but untill then, here it all is in one chapter. I have yet to get my official grade back, so if you would, when you review, pretend like you are a teacher, okay? Thanks!
Secca Irises
Oh, and sorry about the lack of up-dates on my other fan-fics. I haven't been writing much, and what little I do is done in a notebook. And I type very slowly...
It was a dark and stormy night, that Christmas Eve, and even Loony Luna Lovegood was spending time with her father and a few close friends. Everyone was celebrating not only Jesus' birth, but also the one year anniversary of Voldemort's defeat.
The weather did not reflect the general good cheer, but rather seemed to be brooding, cursing the Order of the Phoenix and their victorious cause. Even at Hogwarts, there was no snow; just the cold, pounding rain, mixed in with the occasional bit of sleet.
However, the foul weather reflected one soul's mood perfectly. Who else, but Draco Malfoy, was sitting alone in his father's old study, without even a magical fire to warm the chill air.
"Blasted Minster… How dare he tax my father's money, my money… Just because the muggles do it doesn't mean we have to… Why should I care about rebuilding Hogwarts? Let the students take care of it. I say… and then he goes asking me for an extra donation! Who does he think I am, St. Nicholas? Not bloody likely…" Malfoy muttered under his breath. He appeared to be working on a list of some kind, although its nature was not immediately apparent.
Malfoy yawned, the day's events finally catching up to him. The silence of the room however was suddenly broken when one of the oak doors opened and a small head with large ears appeared in the crack.
"Mister Malfoy, sir? There is a lady here who is wanting to see you. She is saying her name is Hermione, sir." The house-elf, Holly, squeaked in her high voice.
A second person poked her head in the door.
"Draco! What are you doing in here like this? It's freezing! The pretty, albeit bushy-haired woman cried.
"Granger," Draco said flatly, with a glare that seemed to lower the temperature of the room to colder than it already was.
"Come on Draco, if I have told you once, I've told you a thousand times! Call me Hermione. I'm not Granger anymore…"
She opened the door all the way, coming inside the dank study. Shivering she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the empty fireplace.
"Incendio!" Hermione cast and a fire appeared in the fireplace, crackling cheerily. "Much better," she smiled and turned towards Malfoy once more. "I wager you don't have any plans for the holidays." Draco's expression remained stony. "Oh, please come and join me and the children tonight! You aren't the only one who lost a loved one you know…" She said this last part quietly, a sad, far away expression appearing on her face.
Against his will, memories began flashing before his mind's eye… Deep, chocolate brown eyes, staring into his own… a flash of red hair… and a green bolt of light, dousing that bright smile forever.
Draco shook his head, trying violently to get rid of the thoughts threatening to cloud his "better" judgment.
"Get out of my home. Now!" Although he spoke in a monotone, pain shone through his eyes.
Hermione, never one to give up, nodded, and walked towards the door. "Merry Christmas, Draco. And if you change your mind, you can join us for dinner tomorrow at three."
About an hour later, Draco walked slowly back to his own rooms, his mind, as much as he wished it was not so, rested entirely on one person: Ginny. He was so preoccupied that he did not notice the mist that was beginning to gather in the halls. He did, however, notice when the mist solidified and spoke to him.
"Son. What the bloody hell are you doing?" He demanded.
Draco jumped.
"Jumpy today, eh?
"Fa-fa-father? What – why?" Draco stuttered.
"I am here to tell you to shape up!" The ghost, clearly Lucius Malfoy growled at Draco.
"But-"
"Listen up boy. Stop griping for the past and set your sights on the future. Live the way those who died want you to live. And whatever you do, don't live our life as a follower like I did. Be a leader, your own person."
"Three spirits will visit you tonight. Take heed of their words, for they care for you greatly."
And with those words, the mist began to recede. Drace looked frantically around, calling, "Father! Wait! What do you mean? Why are you acting so oddly?" His questions remained unanswered as the mist continued to vanish. Finally, only a small patch was left, and before Draco's astonished eyes it formed into the shape of a head once more.
"Oh, and Draco- tell Ron hello for me." And with a wink, the mist was gone.
That night as Draco tossed and turned in bed. He tried to figure what Lucius had meant. Three spirits? And say hello to Ron? What was going on? And how had Lucius appeared as a ghost-like being for one night only? By all accounts, that was impossible! Draco's father had been acting oddly too… a lot less… dark, Draco supposed.
He had fallen into a light doze when a soft light slowly started to form into the shape of a woman.
"Draco…" she called. "Wake up, it's time to go."
Draco groaned, his dreams plagued by a certain red-head.
"Draco, sorry love, but you need to get up and come with me…" her soft, sweet voice pierced his mind.
Slowly, Draco opened his eyes, taking in the green silk of his four-poster bed, the rich mahogany wood of his dresser, and the plush carpet, all lit by a light that seemed to be emanating from a silver-clad woman.
"Hello, Draco. Come now, get out of bed and put on a cloak. I am to be your guide into your Christmases Past."
Woodenly, as in a daze, Draco did as he was bade, getting out from under his sheets and pulling a deep green cloak on over his black silk pj's. When he was done, the shining woman came over to him, placing her had on his slender arm.
"Ready? Then let us go."
Draco found himself in the same cold, musty study that he himself had been working in earlier, This time, a much younger version of himself stood in from of the desk, behind which sat a very angry Lucius.
"Can we celebrate Christmas?" the father mocked his son. "Can we celebrate a bloody Muggle holiday all about hope and love?" he sneered, "Do you think we are Muggles, Draco?"
"No sir" the younger version of Draco said quietly.
"Then why do you want to celebrate Christmas, boy?
Draco remained silent.
"Answer me when I speak to you!" Lucius yelled, and struck his son across the face. "Get out of my sight! He snarled, and Draco ran.
The grown up Draco had stayed silent and stony during the entire scene.
"Why did you want to celebrate Christmas?" The spirit asked quietly. "Why did you care?"
Draco remained silent, just like his younger counterpart.
The woman nodded to herself and touching Draco's arm once more she changed the scene.
This time, Draco found himself in a large, comfortable room covered with red and gold. A large crowd of similarly clad 7th years sat by the fire furiously opening presents. There was however, a single spot of silver and green. Draco recognized himself with a jolt. Automatically, his eyes went to the spot beside him.
"Ginny.." he breathed.
She was laughing at something the 7th year Draco had just said. He winked, and pulled out an irregularly shaped package. Tossing it to another boy with glasses and messy black hair, Draco called, "For you, Potter - but it comes with a string attached." Harry tore off the wrapping paper and gasped with amazement.
"A Caelum Fulmen!" Harry yelped.
"You just can't use it when you play against me. I only have an AERO 5000, ya know."
Harry laughed. "Hold on!" He tossed another package at Draco. "I got you the same thing!" The entire group erupted in laughter.
"You told me afterwards that that had been the best Christmas you ever had," the spirit said, coming to stand by him.
"It was the only Christmas I ever had…" Draco said with a far away look. He turned to her. "Ginny?" he asked softly.
Her light dimmed, and Draco could finally see her face.
"Oh Ginny…" Draco's voice was filled with longing, but he made no move to touch her.
"Let me go Draco… I am of the past now, and you have a full life ahead of you yet to be lived."
Ginny touched Draco's arm once more, and again, the present scene melted away, with a new one to replace it.
This time, there was no joy in the air and no-one was laughing. Hermione was by Draco this time and they were both crying over two life-less bodies. Both were freckled and had flaming orange-red hair.
"Why do you show me this?" Draco asked, his voice throbbing with sadness.
"I am gone, and someone else needs you now. Help her as you helped me and regain your lives."
Slowly, both Ginny Weasley and the horrific battlefield melted away and Draco Malfoy found himself in his own bedroom at Malfoy Manor once more.
Another spirit was in Draco's room now, and he was immediately recognizable. Ron Weasley, one of Ginny's older brothers, sat on Draco's bed.
"Hello, mate."
"'Lo, Ron." For some reason, Draco was not surprised. "Err,… My dad says "Hello"".
Ron nodded.
"Since when have you been on speaking terms with my dad?" Draco asked curiously.
"Since we both died." Ron said nonchalantly.
"You seem to be taking your own death fairly well… "Draco said, trying and failing miserable at striking up a conversation.
"Death is but the next great adventure" Ron quoted.
"So,,, Um… What are you going to show me?"
"I am going to show you a few Christmases in the present. Come 'ere and grab my cloak." Draco did so, holding tightly to the hem of Ron's scarlet robes.
With a whisper of the wind, Draco found himself in an un-familiar living room. With a jolt, he recognized Seamus and Lavender Finnegan and their small daughter, Tiffany. The girl looked a bit sickly and Draco remembered that she was a were-wolf. With a pang of guilt, Draco recalled how horrid he had been to Lavender in the past year. She had been the only one willing to cook for Draco (Holly could burn anything, even mid-day tea) saying she could understand what Draco was going through. Ginny had apparently been a good friend of hers.
Brought partially to his senses by Ginny's words just a few moments before, Draco finally regretted all the harsh words.
"I do worry about Mister Malfoy… all alone in that huge manor…" Lavender said, sadly. "And with tomorrow being the one year anniversary and all…"
Seamus groaned, "Worry about us, dear! The Department of Magical Creatures Control and Regulations is pushing for some nasty new laws. Apparently, they want to move all werewolves to reserves- and non-affected humans wouldn't be allowed in! WE can't let that happen to Tiff!" The couple both glanced at their daughter who was playing with her new toy Firebolt 300 in the middle of the room.
"If that miser of an employer would pay you more, we might be able to afford a good lawyer who could fight it for us. Arthur is doing his best to veto it, but even as Minister of Magic, he can only do so much."
"Don't bring Draco into this, please!" Lavender begged her husband.
"Like hell I won't! He's the cause of all our problems!"
"Please, Seamus, it's Christmas Eve."
Draco closed his eyes, a sorrowful look on his face. "I knew about that law, and I never did anything about it."
Ron looked on impassively. "What are you going to do about it?" He asked.
"What?"
"What are you going to do about it?" Ron repeated.
"I'll - I'll – I'll owl Ralph Ames! He can go to the Ministry of Magic and fight for werewolf rights! He knew Remus Lupin – I know he will do it! And I will pay for everything!" Draco cried.
Ron nodded, and with a gust of wind took them away from the house located inside the Malfoy Manor Grounds.
It was a small bedroom and upon the bed sat a softly crying Hermione holding a sleeping child.
"Ron… Harry…" She whispered. "I miss you so much…"
Ron stared sadly back at his mourning wife, and then looked at Draco. "I want you to take care of her for me… and my son… make sure James grows up never knowing the type of fear we did… The knowledge that any moment you could die or that some one you loved could get destroyed by a blast of green light…"
The wind gusted once more, and Draco found himself back in his own room.
Just as Hermione was doing many miles away, Draco sat on his bed and cried for the lives that had been lost because of Tom Riddles maniacal obsession with power.
After an enumerable amount of time Draco ran out of tears and found himself just staring into nothingness, mentally reliving that horrific final battle.
Finally, a shadowy figure stepped out from the space between Draco's dresser and wardrobe.
Snapped out of his thoughts by the sudden movement, Draco stared at the spirit trying to identify him as he waited for him to speak.
Finally, as it became apparent that the figure was not going to do anything, Draco gave in ad spike first.
"Am I correct in thinking you are there to show me Christmases yet to some? Draco inquired. "Ginny was past, Ron present - so future is all that is left, right?" The spirit remained silent.
"So, are we going to go?" Draco persisted.
Draco jumped. They had moved from his own plush room to a drab, dirty dormitory filled with girls in the blink of an eye.
Draco looked at the shadowy spirit questioningly. He pointed at a single bed, with clean, neatly made sheets. A girl sat there upon the bed, her clothes as neat and clean as the sheets beneath her.
It was Tiffany. Draco gasped in horror. "No! This can't be!" he cried. For answer, the spirit pointed at a calendar on the wall. "Female Werewolf Reservation", it read, counting the days till the next full moon.
"No!" Draco cried. "No! I won't let it happen! Spirit, I promise you, I won't!" The spirit did not move, leaving Draco to fall to his knees and cry once more, this time for a poor child torn away from her parents.
A little while later, Draco found himself in his own room once more.
"I will not let that law get through or any other of the kind!" He vowed out loud. "I will not let it happen!"
"I know you won't, and by the way, Merry Christmas, Draco" a voice echoed around his room, making Draco jump. It was un-mistakenly Harry's.
By dawn the next day, an owl had already been sent off to Ralph Ames asking for his services and a sizable anonymous donation made for the fund to rebuild Hogwarts.
Holly was over at the Finnegan residence, doing whatever she could to help out Lavender.
By 10 o'clock, numerous presents had been bought and sent off to various households, and flowers went to the Final Battle Memorial site.
The next four hours found Draco catching up on some much needed sleep, and promptly at three, Draco Malfoy arrived at Hermione's door, present in hand.
"Draco! You came!" Hermione cried, signs of tears fresh on her face, when she opened the door to her small cottage.
"You've been crying. We can't have that, now, can we?" Draco asked with a half smile. "These are for you." He handed her a bouquet of roses.
"Sorry about the last year Hermione. I had no right to act like I was the only one who lost someone dear.
"Now, we both need to live like they want- would have wanted us to."
James began to cry, ruining the moment.
"Come on in and get out of the rain." Hermione invited.
Draco smiled for real this time. "Don't mind if I do."