A/N: Once again thank you SO much to everyone who is bothering to read this story, and a special thank you to all those who have been reviewing!
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. You can blame my teachers for the fact I did not update sooner as they all seem to think it's a good idea to set loads of homework.
Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter does not belong to me.
He couldn't sleep that night, and perhaps it was better that way, for had he entered the unconscious world, his dreams would have been plagued with evil and death. Instead, he watched the Gryffindor girl while she slept. Her face so peaceful… so unknowing of what was to come. Her life in his hands, and yet he had no way of telling her, every time he opened his mouth to warn her, no words came out. He was running out of time and he knew it. More than anything he was afraid of failing, afraid of becoming like his father.
Lucius Malfoy had been a good husband. A good father. And then things changed. The Dark Lord had offered him power few men could resist, and now, he was nothing more than a servant of Voldemort, killing innocent people at the command of his master. When Draco looked into his father's eyes, he could see all the lives, which he had taken, for they were always with him, perhaps not physically, but deep down inside, he could tell his father was a haunted man.
Draco had sworn to himself never to fall into that path.
And yet, as defiant as he was, his future had been told to him, and deep down he knew the ghost girl spoke truth, for she spoke of his greatest fears coming true. It was as though he was destined to become all the things he had been so adamant to keep out of his life… Death. Destruction. Murder. And the more he thought about it, the more complicated life seemed to be.
He did not notice the ghost girl appear from nowhere until she spoke to him in a quiet whisper of a voice, "couldn't sleep?" she asked, placing herself in a dark corner of the room, which the few rays of sunlight which were creeping through the curtains had not yet reached.
Draco shook his head, unable to muster up the energy to speak just yet. They both observed in silence as the girl slept, oblivious to the fact she were being watched.
"Just tell her," sighed the ghost.
The head boy nodded, knowing that he may as well tell her now. He would not waste time with meaningless pleasantries, she would see through them, instead he would tell her the truth, at least that way, he would have done all he could. Taking a cautious step closer to the Gryffindor girl he whispered, "Granger," whilst shaking her gently, "wake up, we need to talk".
The girl slowly opened her eyes, giving a little yelp at the sight of the Slytherin prince at the side of her bed, "what do you want Malfoy?" she bit, annoyed at having been woken so early on a Saturday.
"To talk," he said casually.
The girl studied him a moment, her eyes revealing the distrust she felt, "You're up to something Malfoy, and don't think you can fool me otherwise."
"What would you say if I told you I've been seeing a ghost which no one else can see?" he asked carefully.
Hermione shrugged, slightly taken aback by his question, "I don't know".
"What would you say if I told you this ghost was of a person who was not yet dead?"
"Don't be ridiculous that…" she began, but Draco cut her off.
"And what would you say, if I told you that this ghost I've been seeing… is a ghost of you?"
Hermione frowned, "is this some kind of sick joke?" she asked, unsure what to make of this.
"Would you believe me if I said no?" he asked gently.
The girl did not answer straight away; instead she sat in silence, biting on her lower lip as though deep in thought. At last she said in a small voice, "you would have to prove it".
He shrugged, taken aback by this, he had expected denial, perhaps a little shouting on her behalf, however she seemed perfectly serious, accepting the fact that he may be telling the truth, "what do you mean?" he asked slightly unsure of what exactly she wanted.
"Well, is she in the room?" Hermione asked, referring to the ghost, when Draco nodded she continued, "ask her something about me, which only I would know".
The blonde Slytherin raised a brow but nodded, thinking carefully of what to ask.
He looked at the ghost girl questioningly, as though asking for help, but she remained silent, allowing him to think for himself, "Ok," he mumbled, "what's your first memory as a child?"
Both ghost Hermione and present Hermione thought silently for a second, eventually the ghost muttered, "when I was a little girl, I used to be afraid of the dark, my mother used to come into my room and hold me, she would tell me never to fear shadows, for they always mean there is a light shining somewhere," the ghost sighed, "that's my first memory".
The head boy repeated this to Hermione, who looked like she was about to be sick, "how…" she stuttered, "how did you know that?"
"I'm telling the truth," he mumbled.
What is one to think, when in a moment their whole life comes crashing down around them? One minute everything seems so simple, and then next nothing makes sense any more. Who do you blame when the pendulum of life swings the wrong way?
Hermione Granger listened in silence as the person she hated so much told her of her future... and what a dark one it was.
She wanted to shout at him, insist he was lying and walk away. She wanted to enclose herself within the four walls of her room and stay alone in a dark cloud of silence, pretending what she was told were not true. And yet she knew, fate had a funny way of catching up with you.
Truth be told, more than anything she was afraid of dying, afraid of being forgotten, afraid of spending an eternity without those she loves.
It has been said, that all things happen for a reason, every uncertainty, every mountain we must overcome in our lifetime, every hard decision we have to make… there is a reason for it. And perhaps that is true. However, at that moment in time, Hermione could neither come up with a reason nor an explanation as to why such a thing would happen to her, and instead she inwardly prayed it were nothing more than a nightmare she would soon awake from.
Her prayers however went un-answered.
"Why?" she mumbled, for the first time looking into the blonde boys eyes, "why are you telling me this? Why don't you just let fate do its work?"
He did not reply straight away, instead he searched within himself for an answer and sure enough one graced itself upon his lips, "it's not your time to die," he whispered.
And that was all that needed to be said.