Disclaimer: I don't own much. I'm just a girl living down in Massachusetts and this is not mine. Understand? Good.
A/N: Yeah, I no took me long enough, but here's chapter 2 of A Christmas Carol.
Chapter 2
Malfoy crept over to the heavy oak door, an umbrella in hand. His pulse was racing.
"Who's there?" he yelled out sounding much braver than he felt. Then he heard it again; the whisperings, thunder flashed outside making Malfoy jump about a mile high.
"Hello?" he asked not quite as confident sounding as last time.
Out of nowhere, something, Draco had no clue as to what, started to come out of the door, or more correctly straight through it!
Malfoy held the umbrella out in front of him farther still as he cautiously backed up until he reached the fireplace and could no longer.
"Who goes there?" he barked.
Draco could see a more defined shape coming through the door until it was fully visible to him.
"Mom?" he asked incredulously.
The ghost like apparition smiled a weak smile.
No, it can't be, Draco rationalized. Mrs. Malfoy had been dead for years and he knew she hadn't stayed as a ghost on Earth, that's for certain.
"Hello, Draco," she whispered softly.
"How-How how did you-?"
"I can't remain here long. I came to tell you, to warn you."
"Warn me about what?"
"You will be visited by three other spirits. They are here to give you a second chance at life, at love."
"No, no-That's crazy. I'm perfectly fine as I am."
"Are you, really though? You eat alone, live alone, how can you be happy?"
"So? I've been living this way for years and I've survived haven't I? I don't need help!"
"I'm afraid Draco," his mother said, "You've got no choice in the matter. The first ghost will come at midnight. Listen to what they have to say Draco, lest you end up like me; a wife whose partner never really loved her. If not for you, do this for me.
"And remember, it's not too late, it's never too late!"
Without a second word, or even a proper goodbye, Draco's mother disappeared, leaving him to ponder what she said in silence.
"Seri!"
"What is Master wanting?" the elderly house elf with the drooping ears asked Malfoy.
"Get me some fire whiskey," he said, "The strong kind."
"Yes sir." Seri squeaked as she rushed off to get what his master wanted.
Draco sat back upon his armchair in front of the fire and took a nice swig of fire whiskey. Trying to rid himself of the words his mother, no not his mother, the words that that ghost had said, he drank and drank until he passed out.
Draco woke up to a bright light glaring overhead, and a massive hangover.
"Ughhh," he groaned as he rubbed his eyes to get a clearer view of whatever was in front of him.
Malfoy jumped at the sight of the young beautiful ghost floating directly in front of him.
"Who're you?" he barked nervously.
"I am the ghost of you past."
This sounded awfully familiar to Draco. He vaguely remembered reading a story like this in muggle studies at Hogwarts. What was it again? That story by Charlie Dickings wasn't it?
"Shouldn't you be the ghost of Christmas past? Draco asked suspiciously.
"No," the ghost replied. "You need a lot more help than can be given to you just be seeing your past Christmases, so I am here to show you more of your past."
Malfoy looked insulted. "I do no need help!"
The ghost rolled her eyes. "That's what you think," she mumbled under her breath, or would have if she had been alive and breathing.
"Hey!"
"Come, we have not much time. Grab hold of my robe and we will be off."
"Wouldn't it just be easier to use brooms, or floo or even a portkey?"
"Well, I suppose so." The ghost replied. "That is, of course, if you've discovered a way to go back in time with floo powder."
Draco just glared at the sarcastic ghost. "Fine," he grumbled as he grabbed a hold of the ghost's robes.
The journey back to Draco's past lasted only seconds, though it felt more like hours to Draco who had been dreading what the ghost would show him.
The first stop, Draco realized was right inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just minutes before he and his fellow classmates would be sorted in their individual houses, crushing many beginning friendships due to the predefined house rivalries.
Draco walked up to his younger self before realizing that he couldn't be seen or heard. It seemed that the younger Draco's gaze was focused in a single direction. On the receiving end of it was a girl who was sprouting off random facts about Hogwarts she'd read over the summer. That girl was none other than the younger version of Hermione Granger.
Draco remembered that day greatly. He remembered how after seeing her and listening to her talk about whatever it was she happened to be talking about at the moment, how he knew that she was somebody special.
For the young Malfoy and even for the now 26-year-old Draco Malfoy, to notice somebody as being special was a rare thing.
Draco had always set high standards for what he wanted, whether it was materialistic objects or girlfriends. Hermione was everything he'd wanted and couldn't have. She was perfect, with her perfect life and her perfect grades. And without even realizing it, she was beautiful. Not the glamorous, supermodel beautiful, like some of the other girls in his year, but beautiful none-the-less. She didn't need make-up or skimpy, low cut clothing; she managed to be attractive without even trying. But there were still setbacks. She was a Mudblood and Harry Potter's best friend. Two reasons he knew he could never have her, and besides, she would never look at him as anything more than a pureblooded stuck-up prat. But then again, how could he blame her? That is exactly what he was, just some snobby, selfish, spoiled brat.
Older Draco watched as the younger Hermione's eyes lit up as she rambled on about what she had read about Hogwarts. He watched as his younger self scowled at her, vowing from that moment forward to hate her for being the one thing he wanted but could never have.
The ghost woman drifted forward.
"That's how you dealt with it, wasn't it?" she asked.
Draco looked up at her as she pulled him out of his thoughts. He gave her a confused look at the question she'd just asked him.
"That's how you dealt with it," she repeated, "Dealt with love and longing? By shutting down all feelings of compassion and kindness? Did you hope that by putting a stonewall up around your heart you could keep out the pain? Keep out the pain of your life, the pain of longing and the pain of being heartbroken?" The ghost gave him a look of pity, and said softly, "But it didn't work did it? All you did was feel worse, and get angry with yourself for how you would act around her. Not only didn't you keep the pain out, but you also blocked out all feelings of joy. Do you realize that if you'd just let her get in, bread that heart of stone, that his future," she said gesturing to the young Malfoy, "Your present would've been much brighter than it is?"
Draco looked up at her. "I think we should leave now," he said softly.
The woman nodded and gestured to her robe. Malfoy grabbed onto it. This, he decided, was definitely not his favorite way of travel. Give him a broom over this any day.
The next stop was none other than Malfoy Manor. Draco had no idea how old he was in this memory, so he walked through the front door to go and find his younger self. It didn't take long. Draco could hear voices coming from down the hall in his father's study.
"Only second highest?" Older Draco heard his father saying. He walked into the study to see Lucius sitting behind his mahogany desk, cane in hand sneering at his son who looked to be about 15. "And who, pray tell, got the highest grades in the year?"
Younger Draco avoided looking his father in the eye. "Granger," he said coolly.
"Granger?" his father asked intrigued, "As in Hermione Granger? The Mudblood who you let beat you every SINGLE YEAR?" he yelled at his son.
Draco, the younger one, looked ashamed. "But father!" he pleaded, "I'm still second, and it's not really my fault. She's all of the teacher's favorites."
Lucius sneered. "You disgust me," he said, "Get out of my sight."
Younger Malfoy didn't need to be told a second time. He hurried out of the room, not once glancing back, while he cursed under his breath.
"That just made it worse, didn't it? How'd it feel to be told you weren't good enough, and by your own father nonetheless?"
Draco glared at the ghost. She wasn't helping matters much. But then, he realized, was that she wasn't here to pity him. She was here to show him just how bad his past had been and how much he had to change if he didn't want his future to be the same.
"Come on," the ghost said, "I've just one more memory to show you before my time is up. The ghost of the present should come later on."
For the third time that night Draco felt himself being transported into the past. Once again he found himself in the halls of Hogwarts only this time, not as a young 11-year-old but as an older more mature (though not by much) 17-year-old.
Older Draco saw his younger self crouched behind a statue in the dark corridor. The Head Girl who was obviously none other than Hermione Granger was patrolling the halls. Whether the young Draco was spying on Hermione or just trying not to be caught out past curfew (which his older self suspected both) one could not be 100 sure.
17-year-old Draco may not have even been noticed from his crouching position had it not of been for Pansy Parkinson.
"Draco?" Pansy asked as she approached him.
"Is somebody there?" Hermione asked.
Young Draco cringed inwardly as he knew he's been discovered. Pansy, not noticing anything opened up her mouth to speak again. Draco knew that there was only one way to shut her up. Quickly he grabbed Pansy and began snogging her passionately. Pansy further deepened the kiss and soon the two were tangled up in each other, hidden in the shadows.
The older Draco watched as Hermione saw his younger self with Pansy and as she ran away upset. What she didn't know was that the second she'd left he'd ditched Pansy. The younger Malfoy had wanted to follow Hermione but knew that Pansy would become suspicious so instead let himself be dragged back to the Slytherin Common Room.
The older Malfoy decided to take the opportunity his younger self had been denied and follow Hermione.
Draco had to run to catch up with her but even then staying in the background; despite the fact that he knew she couldn't see him. Hermione ran all the way up to the 6th floor until she reached a picture of the four founders.
"Password?" Godric Gryffindor asked tiredly.
"Golden Lion," Hermione managed to say still a bit shaken up.
The portrait opened up and Hermione hurried in. Draco just barely managed to make it in before the portrait closed. A few seconds later the female ghost floated in through the wall after him.
Draco assumed that the Head Boy (some Ravenclaw) was still out on patrol as Hermione was the only one in the common room she shared with the other head. Hermione collapsed onto the couch as she wiped away her tears. From the distance Draco saw a larger tawny owl fly over and perch itself right on Hermione's left shoulder.
"Hey Guinevere," Hermione spoke softly as she gently stroked the bird.
The bird gave a short hoot in reply.
Hermione began talking to the bird, though aware that it couldn't reply.
"I don't know why he affects me so much," Hermione told Guinevere obviously frustrated. The owl hooted once again.
"He's such a jerk. All he ever does is talk about how great he is because he's a pureblood and how low I am because I'm a 'mudblood.' But lately though, he's changed. He doesn't bring up my muggle parents or even insult me much anymore and I don't know, I'm just so confused about my feelings for him. Every time I see him with someone else I just get so jealous and I can't stop thinking about him. But what does it matter if you're the only one who knows this? You're just a bird."
Guinevere seemed to understand just what Hermione had said as she gave a hoot of indignation and flew back to her perch.
"Fine," Hermione said to the retreating bird, "Be that way." And with that she turned over onto her side and fell asleep.
Silently Draco walked over and brushed the strand of hair that had come loose out of Hermione's eyes before covering her with a blanket. Draco retreated back to the ghost after one last glance at the sleeping figure on the couch. The ghost took that as the sign to leave and once again Draco felt himself being transported, only this time back to his bedroom at Malfoy Manor.
"I must be going now," the woman ghost told Draco. "My twin brother, the ghost of the present will be arriving in due time. Until then, I suggest you reflect upon what you have seen tonight." And on that note the woman disappeared, leaving Draco alone to reflect or in his case, get some much needed rest.
A/N: I hope that this was a good chapter. Please, please leave a review. For those of you who write fanfiction of your own you know how good it feels to find a review in your inbox, so please review. Also check out my other fic Wilderness Survival. Thanks,
Kasey