Disclaimer: In chapter one.

AN: Enjoy chapter 2, please read and reveiw!...Rhyme not intended.

Chapter 2

Draco stood with his back to the bedroom door as he looked over his cloths that had been unpacked earlier by a house elf. He could not say that he was happy to be back in his old room, but at least it was clean. He wrinkled his pale, pointed nose at thought of staying at the inn in the village nearby. The Malfoy family had not slipped so low! His father's name had been held together by mere threads for the past few years, but he had never lost his money. Money was one thing that sacredly and unquestionably came along with the Malfoy family as well as extreme pride.

Squaring his shoulders and standing up a little straighter, Draco looked at the family crest on his ring. The pride of the family would live on forever! Now Draco only wished that his father could have lived on forever too.

As father and son they had never been extremely close, but Draco missed his father all the same. There has always been a certain connection between parents and their children, even if the two are as different as black and white. His father had always been there to tell him what he was doing wrong, but now that guidance was gone forever. Draco did not feel ready to be the head of the family. After all, he did not even have a steady job; he had spent the last two years trying to settle on one while living off of the family fortune.

All of that was about to change. He had inherited the Malfoy manner and suddenly had new responsibilities. Responsibilities that he had not even known came with such a large manner.

"Excuse me, sir." said a squeaky and nervous voice behind him.

"What?"

"Your mother, sir," said the house elf, "She wishes to speak with you."

"She can wait." said Draco.

"I'm afraid that she won't wait. She says it's urgent."

"Well if it's so urgent then she can come to me!" he nearly growled. He was not in much of a mood for his mother's coddling.

"No, Master Malfoy, my mistress keeps to her bed. She is too weak to move."

"But father's services," it hurt for him to say it, "are tomorrow morning!"

"She says she wishes to rest until then. Please come, sir," the tiny house elf moved in front of him imploringly, "please do!"

"What's the rush, I'll see her tomorrow. Leave me now…um…" he paused.

"Wilkins, sir." said the tiny elf.

"Go Wilkins, I have a letter to write." To prove it, Draco swept his robes aside and sat down on the desk chair, picking up his quill.

"Actually, sir, your mother wishes to know who you have been writing letters to for the past week."

Wilkins ran for cover as Draco stood up sharply and said, "Why, that nosy little bitch!"

"Please sir," stuttered the cowering house elf.

"Has she been watching my mail? I don't believe her! Why must she know everything? Can't I ever have a little privacy? That…that…"

"Sir, must you…?"

"Oh, don't you have some shoes to shine?" he bellowed, "Get out of here!"

Wilkins needed no second invitation. The little elf scampered out of the room, barely missing the kick Draco aimed at him.

Draco sat back down at pulled out his wand, drumming it rhythmically on the wood of the desk. That just took the cake! His own mother was spying on him! He wondered how long she had been watching his mail and a few green sparks shot from his wand tip, nearly igniting the table.

Well, it did not matter if she found out anyway! Tomorrow was the funeral and she would have her hands tied up with that. Yes the stuffy funeral would be filled with row upon row of family members and business men…and Ella. Yes, Ella would be there too, he had made sure of that. So, even if Mrs. Malfoy got wise there would be little she could do about it. Besides, he had made up his mind to do this and he was going to do it this time…no matter what his mother said.

Draco Malfoy would make his own choices!

۞۞۞

Ella had loved her grandfather very much.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said child, he died in the night."

"That's not true! I saw him yesterday, he's fine!"

She had been utterly shocked to hear of his death, but to most six year olds death is unfathomable. How could someone be there one day…and then simply be gone the next? She had been shocked.

Merely a year after his death, Ella had a strange experience that would last in a hazy void in her memory forever.

"Ow! Draco, stop poking me!"

It was late at night and the house elves, who were busy in the kitchen, had not yet lit the candles. Mr. Malfoy had business with Ella's father and had brought Draco along. Ella was not pleased. It was dark, she was tired, and there was Draco!

"Would you just stop it!"

"You're no fun to play with! Why don't you go have a tea party or something." The nine-year-old Draco looked around him sordidly, the beginnings of a smirk on his face.

"What?" asked Ella, rubbing her shoulder where Draco had prodded it with his play broomstick.

"What's in that room down the hall?" he pointed with his broomstick.

"That's mum's room. We're not allowed in there!"

"Why not?"

Ella rolled her eyes, "Because it's my mum's room and she told me not to go in there. Besides, you wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. The house elves haven't lit any candles yet."

Draco snorted derisively, "I'm a wizard! I'll make my own light."

"You don't know how to do magic."

"Yes I do! I've got a wand and everything."

"Oh really? Well, prove it!" Ella raised her eyebrows and waited with mock patience.

"Well…" Draco stuttered, "I left my wand at home."

"A wizard would never leave his wand at home!"

"Yeah…well…who cares? Lets go."

"Go where?"

"Up there." He pointed up the stairs to an even darker passage.

"There's nothing up there but my room. Besides, it's too dark; let's just stay here."

"Are you afraid?"

"Nuh-uh! Draco, it's my own house…"

"I bet you are! You're afraid of the dark!" Without another word, Draco bolted up the stairs.

Ella was forced to go tailing after him yelling, "Draco, stop! That's my room, keep out!"

She reached the bottom landing and listened. There was no sound at all. Only darkness surrounded her. "Draco?" she whispered. There was no reply.

Opening the door to her room, Ella was met with dim light falling through her window from the street outside. It gave the room a strange gray look. Shadows fell from all the furniture and toys that littered the floor. But, Draco was no where to be seen.

"Draco?" she whispered again.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ella thought she saw movement. "Ah-ha! I see you Draco!"

She turned, but the only thing that was there was her vanity that she had inherited from her great-grandmother. Or…was that all? Ella squinted her eyes and then gasped. "Granddad?"

There he was, plain as day, his reflection smiling at her blandly. He was sitting on her bed holding their favorite book in his hands: Robinson Crusoe. "Granddad?" she whispered again, unbelievingly. The reflection nodded.

"Granddad!" she yelled, turning away form her vanity to look at him. But, he was not sitting on her bed. In fact, he was not anywhere at all.

Ella stood there in a state of consternation. She had seen him! He was just there, on the bed! Perhaps he was hiding. She moved forward, "Granddad?"

"Boo!"

Ella shrieked and toppled over as Draco pounced on her. "You were so scared!" he said, laughing, "You should have seen your face!"

"Draco! Where is he?"

"You can stop being a little chicken now, I'm here."

"Not you!" she yelled, standing up, "Granddad!"

"What? He died forever ago, don't you remember you silly little twat?"

"What did you do with him?" Ella felt positively insane. He had been there; just there. She knew it!

"Wha—?"

"Where's my Grandpa!" Without warning, she jumped on him.

It was terrible luck that Narcissa Malfoy chose that moment to enter the room. "What's this!" she snapped and Ella jumped off of her cousin instantly.

Draco stood up and looked at her, frightened. "You're crazy!" he yelled before leaving with his mother.

Ella glanced at the vanity and shivered. Her grandfather had been there, had really truly been there. She knew it!