Author Note: Hello everyone, this is my second to last chapter and when my beta, Andromeda Silver, read over it and corrected it, she and her sister IceQueen1 had a little fun with my chapter. It was really hilarious. I kept some stuff in here of theirs. Anything in BOLD is what they added in. Anything with means from that point to the other means that's all their work! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I did!

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Draco, Fred, and George stood there and gulped, all louder than the next. Draco let go of the two boys' collars and asked, "Are you the Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come?"

The Spirit only nodded.

"I fear you the most."

Once again the Spirit said nothing.

"Will you not speak, Spirit?"

The Spirit nodded once more, stretched out his arm, and with his skeletal hand, pointed out into the distance.

Fred leaned a little closer to Draco, while still staring with wide eyes at the Spirit and said, "I wouldn't piss him off if I were you."

"No shit," Draco said nervously. "Well, uh, Spirit, please, let's start. I know that I have much to learn this night."

The Spirit took hold of Draco's shoulder and then suddenly the scene changed. They were no longer outside but now inside a warm house.

George had once again started his narration. "Draco saw in front of him a woman, one he knew he had seen before, but could not remember where. The woman sitting there no longer had the love and joy in her heart that he somehow knew she had once, long ago."

"Mummy! Mummy!" came the voices of two little children.

"Oh my darlings, I am in here!" she called.

The boy and his twin sister came running into the room. "Mummy!" They jumped in her lap and gave her a hug.

"How are you, children? I have missed you so!" She hugged them even harder.

"Mum, we were just gone for a little while!" the young boy said.

"Yes, Mummy, and Jeannette said that one day the dog will be bigger than the two of us and soon it will be walking us!" the young girl said, and the two children started to giggle.

She smiled warmly at her children and would thank Jeannette, her housekeeper personally for taking care of the dog, for she had not the strength to take care of it. "Your father just had to give you that dog."

"Well, you do know, Mummy, Father did say that we could have anything after missing our birthday last month!" the little boy said.

"Yes, I know he did."

The little girl looked at her mother and said, "Mother, what's wrong? It looks as though you were crying."

"Oh, it's nothing, my dear. Mummy just found out that one of her very dear and old friends has just… well, just went on a very long vacation."

"Who is it, Mum? We know everyone of yours and Father's friends," the boy asked.

"Oh, no one you know, James dear. I was childhood friends with him."

"Oh. How come only childhood friends? What did he do? Did he make you cry? Did he call you mean names like I call Lily? Can I have a cookie?" James asked.

The woman started to laugh with her whole heart at that comment.

Suddenly the door opened and they heard a man say, "Why is there no one here to greet me?"

Draco recognized the voice of the man. "Harry Potter? This is Harry's house. That's Ginny?" He watched as the children got up and ran to their father in the front hall, but then noticed that Ginny did not seem at all excited that Harry had returned home. She walked slower than she normally did, no more happiness or spring in her step.

"What has he done to you?" Draco asked as though she could hear him.

Just as he said that, Ginny stopped. Draco froze in his spot; could she hear him? She whispered, "Oh if I could see you one last time, Draco." A single tear ran down her face. She looked in the mirror that was there and touched her hair and the skin on her face. "But what would you think of me now?" She touched her neck right where he knew the pendant on her necklace always fell. "I regret…"

"Virginia!" called Harry.

Ginny picked her head up and ran to go greet her husband.

Draco turned to the Spirit and said with eyes as wide as saucers, "Spirit, you must tell me if this is what will happen to Ginny! She is a free spirit with love and happiness. I would not be able to stand it if this is what to come of her. This cannot come of her! Tell me!"

"Dude," said Fred, "are you missing the fact that the Spirit isn't allowed to talk anymore?"

George added, "And you gotta remember…right now, you have no choice but to stand it. And I must say, I am wondering where the hell you've been if you're such a good friend of hers. Why'd you let her marry mean, ol' drunken Harry The Bastard, eh? She mentions childhood friends, so you've been letting her suffer alone for quite some time. I doubt very much you went and joined the foreign legion!"

Draco stiffened. "Well, where are you two? You're her brothers!"

Before either one could answer Draco, George nudged Fred and said, ""Whoa, pissing the scary death looking thing of."

"How can you tell? He hasn't got a face!" Draco stated.

"I know these things. I'm the narrator."

Draco sighed, not wanting to hear them argue anymore and said, "Just continue with your narration."

Fred and George chorused, "Right! Now where were we?"

The Spirit pointed to a spot behind them. As Draco turned around they were no longer in Ginny and Harry's house, but in an alleyway on a rainy day in London.

"Draco had then appeared in the streets, where four gentlemen, some whom he knew, were talking about something. Something horrible, or maybe not, who really knows." George said.

"I thought you were the narrator and knew everything?" Draco asked.

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"No, I didn't." George said.

"Yes, you did."

"Didn't."

"Did!" Draco shouted.

"FUTURE! PAY ATTENTION!" And Fred smacked him upside the head.

"I don't know what happened, I just know that he's dead," said one man.

"One could then presume he DIED then, wouldn't you agree?" Said another.

"When did this occur?" asked another.

"Just last night."

"I thought he'd never die," added a third.

"I don't care that he died, I just want to know what happened to all of his money."

"Well, he didn't give it to me, that's for bloody sure."

"He burned it."

"Really?"

"No, but that's what I'd do."

"It's likely to be a cheap funeral, I don't know a soul who would go to it."

"I guess that's the way he would have wanted it, cheap and all. The man never had any friends."

"Well, I think I'm going to go," spoke the fourth man for the first time in all the conversation. Everyone else went silent and stared at him, as though he was crazy. "If lunch is provided, that is."

All the men burst out laughing and walked away as they continued to talk.

"I know some of those men, Spirit. Who is this poor wretch that they speak of?"

Fred sighed. "You know, we've been at this alllllllllllll night. Who's horrible past and present have we been witnessing? Percy's? I think not."

The Spirit did not answer him, only pointed once again and took them to another place.

This time he brought them into a small building down a deserted alleyway.

Fred glanced around, then poked his head around the corner of the building. "Hmm. That's odd. I don't remember this many alleyways in London. Especially not deserted ones."

"You're right," George muttered, "and isn't London one of the most populated cities in England?"

"Wow…imagine how freakishly empty everywhere else is."

They saw one man sitting at a desk, and three people coming in through the door talking, and screaming with one another.

The man behind the desk got up and said, "Okay, okay! Enough jabbering. Let's see what you've brought for me today," he said, rubbing his hands together.

"Allow me to go first, ladies," said a tall, young man, "for I only have one thing." He took something out of his pocket. "Here you go, Joe, cufflinks. Come straight from France, they do."

Did the man ever buy something from France before?" Joe said, putting an eyeglass to his eye to inspect the items.

"Do I look like a international jewelry exchange? NO! But they say Made in France right on the side!"

"You stole them from an Englishman's house, in England. We'll say they're from Japan. Okay, I'll give you seven shillings."

"Seven shillings?" asked the man.

"Yes, now be off with you!" said the fat old man.

The young man took his money and left the building.

"Okay, ladies, who's next?" Joe asked with a sinister smile.

"I am, Joe," said the older woman, who was missing her two front teeth. She handed him a large bundle. "It's his bed curtains, rings and all."

"You took them down with him still lying there?" Joe asked the woman.

"I did indeed. And look what else is in there."

"Blankets too? They're still warm," Joe said, running his hands over them. "Did you take them right off him?"

"Well, why not, he's not going to need them where he's going."

They all laughed.

"Not too shabby, Mrs. Dilbert. I shall give you one pound and two shillings."

"One pound, two shillings?" the woman asked.

"Is there an echo in the building!" Joe shouted. "YES! One pound and two Schillings!" after calming down he said, "I always give women too much," and he handed the woman her money.

"I guess I'm last, Joe."

"So you are, my dear Ms. Patty, so you are. And what have you found for ol' Joe?"

"Oh, nothing too much, just this." She handed him a velvet pouch, which caught Draco's eye.

He dumped the contents out into the palm of his hand and out came a ring; the ring that he gave to Ginny a long, long time ago, or at least looked like it.

"Spirit, that looks like…"

"Shhhhh," Fred shushed him around his mouthful of conjured popcorn. "This is the good part!"

"Well, well, Ms. Patty, this is some ring indeed," Joe said as he held it up to his eye. "Are you sure you didn't steal it from somewhere else? It doesn't seem that a cheap, lonely, bastard like him would ever have a reason to have something like this."

"I didn't steal it! Well, I did, but it was indeed right from his room, it was!"

"I shall give you three pounds, six shillings, and two pence for it!"

"What?"

"I swear to God, if you repeat the price back to me…" he warned and then said, "Well, it is a tiny diamond indeed." The two of them laughed.

"A tiny diamond? A tiny… Spirit, tell me, who is this man they speak of, this man who has brought such happiness to these people in death?"

The Spirit did not answer him. "Then show me, Spirit. Show me some tenderness connected with death."

Fred started to laugh, but began choking on his popcorn before his brother started pounding on his back with both fists.

The Spirit pointed once again, in an abstract, undisclosed direction. As Draco turned, they were outside the Weasley's House. "Ah, the Weasley's home. There is always some sort of happy festival going on here."

"Draco then peered through the window and noticed that something was not right at all. A sort of sadness had fallen over the Weasley household."

"What happened?" Draco asked George.

"You will soon find out," George answered.

The Spirit pointed towards the house. Draco said, "I do not wish to go in there, for I fear I know what has happened."

"Then what the hell did you ask us for?" George demanded, and was promptly ignored.

The Spirit, fed up with this pointless pointing, grabbed Draco about the shoulders and drop kicked him through the second story window. An echoing scream, followed by a series of rather loud crashes and banging, let the party of three out in the yard know that Draco, the bungling nit, had managed to stealthily penetrate the somber Weasley household.

"Draco noticed that house looked just as it had before when he visited there with the Spirit of Christmas Present, but now as he looked upon the family's faces he did not see the love and warmth that was there before."

"Mother, you have been crying again," announced one of her daughter Katie.

"I have not," Hermione sniffed, whipping her eyes, "It's the dim light in the house; it's bothering my eyes." She noticed that her lies did nothing to help her daughter, and in turn her daughter started to cry. "Oh, my dear, do not cry. Your father shall be home soon, and we would not want to show sad eyes to your father for anything in the world."

Soon the door opened and Ron appeared. "Hello, my dears."

"How was the church yard?" Hermione asked.

"It's green there now! I picked a spot on the hill so he can see the ducks on the river. Tiny Tim always…" Ron could not finish his sentence.

"Tiny Tim always loved to watch the ducks on the river," Hermione finished for him.

"It would have done you some good to have gone with me, Hermione."

"One day, I shall go and visit with you. I will bring him fresh flowers and plant them every Sunday."

"I'm sure he would like that."

A little while later they sat down at the table to eat.

"Well, who would like to say the blessing " Hermione asked.

"No one wants to do a blessing, mother," her son, Peter said, "there is nothing to bless."

"Don't say that, my boy," Ron said to him.

"What is there to bless then, Father?" Peter asked.

Ron raised his glass and said, "To Tiny Tim, one who we shall never forget, and never forget the things that we have learned from him."

The rest of the Weasley family raised their glasses and said, "To Tiny Tim."

Draco turned to the Spirit with tears in his eyes. "Please tell me that these are only shadows, things that I can help change so they do not end up this way. Please?" Draco said in a begging tone.

The Spirit once again took a hold of Draco's arm and suddenly the scenery had changed to a cemetery. The Spirit pointed ahead of them. Draco looked to where he was pointing and saw a lone headstone by itself, as though no one wanted to be anywhere near it.

"Tell me, Spirit, whose death was it that brought such happiness to them all?"

The Spirit would not answer and kept his finger pointed straight ahead. Draco walked to the tombstone and knelt before it. He looked up at the Spirit with tears still in his eyes. "Whose grave is this, Spirit? Whose grave is this, all alone and unloved, without a single live flower on it?"

The Spirit said nothing again. Draco then started to clear the weeds off of it and saw his name on there. Draco stood up quickly and said, "Why show me these events if they cannot be changed? I know that they can be. A life can be made right if only given a second chance! Please, Spirit, give me that chance."

"NEVER!" roared the Spirit. "If you're so stupid that you couldn't figure out half of this before this point, you don't DESERVE a chance, you ignorant hick! GOD that feels good to say!"

"Then why would you show me this if I am past all hope?"

"Because he delights in your suffering," answered George.

"Distant cousin to the Dementors, you know," added Fred.

"I will live my life in the past, the present, and the future!"

Suddenly, the ground beneath him cracked open and he almost fell into it. "Oh no, Spirit, no, no! I am not the man I was! Have mercy! I will know Christmas in my heart and keep it all year, just like the song says! I will remember what the Spirits have taught me this night and keep it always with me all year, every day! I swear it!" He looked behind him and saw fire rise up from the bottom. "I will change! I will!"

Before anything else could be said or done, the ground opened even more and Draco Malfoy fell into the fiery hell below.

"Well, that fucking sucks," said George.

"Indeed," agreed Fred.

To Be Continued…