He awakened at the sound of knocking. The sound echoed and resounded in his very bones, due to the binding of magic between him and the manor. He wanted to continue laying, but his body kept vibrating at every hit to the door knocker. He rose, curious to whom would knock. Greg didn't knock or come in through the front door. The guests for Granger, the aurors, usually came later in the evening after their workday finished. No one came early.

Draco looked down at his feet. The tiger stared up at him with one eye and then closed it again. It wasn't going to get up. Vega moved a piece on the chess board, not giving Draco a glance.

So, Draco left the two in his room. He casted several spells his mother would be proud of upon himself. He gave a quick glance in a hallway mirror. He looked impeccable. He looked like a Malfoy.

He made his way through the labyrinth of hallways, a hand trailing upon the wall. When he reached the French walnut doors, he straightened his robes and then opened them.

Five magicals greeted him. Two aurors, the regular golden duo, and three Hogwarts professors: McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape. Albeit Snape wasn't a Hogwarts professor anymore.

Draco's gaze lingered on the former Dark Arts and Potions professor. The man deserved the Order of Merlin; however, it didn't stop Draco from feeling jaded. Not because the man had been on the opposing side, but because he hadn't heard from the man since the war's end. Snape had been his godfather. It pained him that it had all been for Death Eater show. Severus only pretended to care for him all those years. Some of his fondest parenting memories had been sitting on a stool helping stir a cauldron with his 'uncle.' He'd just been an annoyance at best to the potion master. What was even worse, standing before Draco now the man looked the same as ever. Draco had wanted him to look… old… worse… something different than the man he remembered.

"Welcome to my home, Headmistress McGonagall," Draco greeted the closest to the entrance after a long pause.

Her pinched expression had not changed much over the years, and the wrinkles that had formed in his childhood drooped almost off her cheeks now, until she gave a terse smile, "Thank you. Sorry to rouse you so early, but we've come to a solution about poor Miss Granger."

He'd already summarized that, just by the company. He gave a nod; thankful someone had finally figured out that they needed to get her to Hogwarts. He extended a hand and they walked in with changes of awkward courtesy and good mornings. The two aurors gave a nod, looking dead on their feet with dark circles under their eyes. The elders of the group chatted together in quiet voices — he heard parts mentioned as he led them down a hallway, in particular the Bloody Baron and Sir Nicholas.

He opened the library door. She floated where she'd been the day before. A new book, however. They filed in, and with the noise she turned. She smiled and flew down to them — eyes almost filled with the same light as when she'd been alive. He dipped his head as the final person trailed into his library. Professor Flitwick acknowledged him with a smile. "Always good to see you, Draco!"

One of the few people who'd probably ever say that. Flitwick had cared for him after his fall down the flight of stairs, knowing enough healing magic to set his bones right. The man had taken Draco to his office after healing him, loaded Draco with hot tea until he'd sobered up – never took a point off. It had been a stunning moment of weakness; one he didn't like to be reminded of. But the man did not take advantage of the situation like many would. It would do him well to keep in the man's good graces. "It is good to see you as well."

The Charms professor's smile grew larger at the words and then turned to the girl. "We're quite sure we've got a way to get you out."

The girl beamed at the professor.

The professor then turned back to Draco. "Would you mind helping us with the manor wards?"

"I'll be happy to help." Draco dipped his head.

"Excellent!" The little man gave a cheer.

The two aurors happily gave updates about their family life with the ghost as McGonagall walked in a circle inspecting her. Severus avoided eye contact with Draco as well by focusing on Granger but positioning himself just to watch Draco out of the corner of his eye.

Draco turned his gaze away from them, unwilling to dwell on bitterness. He should feel relief, finally having the Hogwarts professors involved. They'd surely be able to help her. She'd be happy in Hogwarts in no time, maybe she could take over for Professor Binns.

"You'll be happy at Grimmauld place, Hermione," Potter said, cutting into Draco's thoughts. "Ginny is so happy you're coming. I want you to meet my son-"

They were going to fail. Three of the brightest minds, four if you counted the ghost.

Tears were falling down the girl's face, the only form of wispy liquid that dripped with gravity. "Thank you, Harry." Her voice sounded like it was in pain. "I was beginning to lose hope."

"Well now, off to the ballroom we go." Professor Flitwick gave a clap.

"Ballroom?" Draco asked, a bit dumbfounded, with a bad feeling entering his bones. No one paused, Severus was leading the lot of them out of the library to the ballroom leaving Draco to quicken his pace to catch up.

"The ballroom is made of marble. When her blood poured out on it and she died, there would likely be a lingering essence. If we purify it, and provide some links between Grimmauld, it should be a quick jump," Flitwick explained to Draco.

Yes, he'd thought of that. And he'd purified the marble when he removed it from the floor.

Before he could explain such, an exclamation came from ahead of them.

"Where is it?" Granger's cry sounded very similar to when she screeched at Bella's crucio. Perhaps the ghost wasn't of the soundest mind after all. "This can't be the room!"

He walked in. The little dragons were still, the color of natural wood, none awake — thankfully. They'd cause trouble, and no doubt would take a while to settle down. Draco then met the glares of the ghost and mortals. "I've been renovating the manor. The ballroom has been renovated over four years now." That lessened the glares.

"What happened to the marble?" Severus said, lowering his tone so that only Draco could hear him.

Draco had nothing to hide. He spoke in his normal tone, "I moved it to the far edge of the grounds, near my mother's gazebo."

The black eyes finally looked at him. Their depths were unfathomable. Draco wanted to take a step back, but training held him in place. The man's nose twitched, just a fraction. Severus wanted more information.

"They were purified before they were put down to make a patio. I figured the marble was a likely candidate years ago. It still retains essence, but since she wasn't dragged back when I moved them there, the marble couldn't have bound her," he explained more thoroughly.

"Hmm," Flitwick tapped his chin.

"We can pull up the boards, if you'd like?" Draco offered. If he did it, then they wouldn't be messed up.

"No, no need," Professor Flitwick supplied as his wand lit up with a spell Draco was unfamiliar with. He first tapped the ghost. It went bright blue. When he removed it from the ghost it became dark green. Then he walked around the length of the ballroom; the tip of the wand never changed from the dark green color; the others were watching him curiously. "I'm afraid if this is the room she was killed in, then there is no sign of binding her."

"This may make things easier," Severus said with a sigh. "Let's get set up and try." Immediately several bags of chalk were pulled out

"Actually," Draco cut in forcing them all to look at him, "I'd recommend using some leather, I can grab a skin from a bedroom room. There are runes under the floorboards, they may interfere if you are attempting a runic displacement." The runes might interfere; the animated carvings, would. Damn things were too curious for their own good.

"Yes, very thoughtful of you. If you don't mind." Flitwick gave a smile.

Draco nodded and quickly accio'd a bear rug. It was flipped on its back to reveal the leather. The drawing began. Draco stayed off to the side watching the proceedings with some interest. It didn't look too different from what was tried before, albeit in the library. Judging by the narrowed gaze of the ghost, she'd come to the same conclusion.

And they tried. He brought down the wards — everyone could feel them go. And they tried again. And again.

Draco forced them to break at lunch for tea and food, so they wouldn't pass out in his ballroom. The second they finished the sandwiches they were at it again — this time putting more magic into it.

Dusk just began falling when they finally stopped on their own. McGonagall's breathing sounded erratic. More power had resulted in nothing.

The ghost hovered, looking sad and bored at the same time.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Harry said quietly, sitting upon the floor and putting his head on his knees.

She hovered closer to Harry, almost touching. "It's ok. It'll be ok." Her voice did not sound ok.

Severus closed his eyes, his thin frame resting against the side wall almost covered by a curtain. He looked exhausted too. He'd never been a thick man before, but now that Draco looked closely, he seemed even thinner than when he'd been a spy. "It's not the marble. Bellatrix's wand has been destroyed. What of the dagger?"

"In the Ministry of Magic," Ron muttered darkly.

"Her body, what happened to her body?" Severus' eyes opened to look at Draco. "Where was she burned, in the pyre with the rest?"

He remembered the pyre. It had been the first thing to go after the war. He'd had several curse breakers come and purify the grounds. But regardless, that wouldn't have done it. "She was buried."

Severus pointed down, obviously intending to drag the carcass out of the catacombs.

Draco almost scoffed at that. He wouldn't have gotten away with burying a mudblood in the catacombs. His father would have killed him. "Not here. I oversaw moving the body. I hid it from them all, kept it in stasis until it was moved to London. From there I had her buried. If she were bound to her body, shouldn't she have moved with it?"

Severus tapped his foot, "Then why can't she move? What earthly attachment is forcing her here?"

"Have you tried moving her to Hogwarts?" Draco asked.

"I don't want to go to Hogwarts!" The shrill tone of panic seemed laced in the ghost's voice. Not in a sound state of mind. Who would have thought Bella to be correct on that account?

"By all means the location doesn't matter when it comes to moving a ghost," Flitwick shook his head sadly.

"Why not?" a deep male voice carried across the ballroom.

Draco raised his eyes to see his only friend. Greg had grown up, had a wife and kid — and thankfully escaped from being marked too. The man walked down the staircase like the heir he was, no longer the lumbering oaf he'd been.

"Excuse-," Severus said.

"No, I do believe Draco has researched the topic thoroughly. He has multiple reasons as to why the destination matters. I'm sure you all would be able to understand his mutterings. When he explained it to me, it went a bit over my head. Of course, I was a bit drunk at the time." He gave Draco a look as he continued his descent. He was going to have another one of those heart-to-heart chats about speaking up, great…

"I'm sure they know more than I do on the topic. The only ghosts I have as points of reference were the Bloody Baron and Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Elizabeth Myrtle," Draco clarified, although how anyone could spend eight years - more as a professor and headmaster - and not know the names of the ghosts at Hogwarts seemed odd.

"You know this house best, though. Tell them about your theory on her limitations, that one I understood." Greg wasn't going to back down.

"Please do inform us, Mr. Malfoy," Severus drawled like he was a student again.

Draco shot a glare at Greg, "The manor was expanded upon multiple times, especially in the back. Looking at the original plans of the house, it looks eerily accurate to the limitations. The house itself may be keeping her, or at least tugging. I think a stronger magical location would be able to provide the forward momentum needed to get her across the key lines here. The house itself was built with magical precision. That being said. I've not heard of a ghost really leaving Hogwarts, going yes, - once she gets there, she may not be able to leave."

"All ghosts at Hogwarts have the ability to leave if they choose," McGonagall supplied.

Interesting. Elizabeth complained so much, Draco thought she'd been stuck.

"Grimmauld was built on key lines too. We've already been over that," Potter said with a sigh.

"You're not a Black, Potter. Your blood is not keyed to the house as this manor is for me. You merely have access to the wards — not the internal workings of its magic. Not to mention this house-" He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Not worth it, he'd look like a lunatic. Alive? Properties couldn't be alive. Regardless of how they responded to the wizard or witch that owned them. They'd send him to an insane asylum. No one had ever animated an entire building, a figurehead yes — some gargoyles, yes. No one would have taken on a project so large. "Has never been abandoned for any length of time."

Severus raised a brow; the hesitation had been noticeable then.

"I'll leave the wards down for you to experiment to your heart's content." Draco walked around the drawing on the floor. Glad to be done with the people and ghost in the room. Draco motioned for Greg to follow. There were very few reasons Greg came by without sending word. Draco suspected Roxin was the cause for the visit.

Draco led Greg into the same hallway he traversed the night before. "What can I help you with, Greg?"

Greg pulled out several pieces of wood from his pockets. "I buy her all the toys in the store, but she wants Uncle Draco's toys, not junk. She's broken it again."

The poorly built toy was one of his first creations. He hadn't known what he was doing. "I could make her something new, this one can stay here-" where it wouldn't get broken so often.

"No, she wants this one fixed." Greg sighed, a complete pushover to his daughter's fixation. "Only Roxin will do." Greg handed the pieces over.

Roxin's head had fallen off, again. Draco inspected the damage. The haggle tooth dragon stared back at him. The eyes were plain wood, not the green color when they were animated. A child's toy — the thing had been through it all. Its left wing was chipped. Its ear had teeth marks in it.

"My tools are further down the hallway," Draco said as he stuffed the toy into his pocket. Greg followed. Thankfully, no one else did.

"What room are you in now?" Greg asked.

Draco hesitated, but then sighed, "Bella's room."

Greg looked to reach out to him for a second before he pulled away. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine. You can't even tell it was her room. I broke down several walls in the room and merged them. I got rid of everything in there. Jiffy and I had a bit of a bonfire."

"Draco, you hate fire-"

"Not as much as I hate her," his voice dropped in warning, he hoped Greg would leave it. Doubtful, this was his only friend after all.

"If you ever need to talk-"

"I've already spoken to you once, and once was enough."

"I'm not sure sobbing and throwing up in my toilet counts," Greg's lips deepend into a concerned frown. A concerned Greg meant a concerned Greg's wife. He didn't need that hufflepuff fire calling him for a pep talk, again.

"I was sober and throwing up in your toilet, it counted. Any more discussion of this and I'll just be throwing up again," Already he could feel it, the panic bubbling in his throat.

"You're not ok," There was a moment of hesitation, before Greg casted a silence spell behind them, "You should see a mind healer at St. Mungo's."

Draco scoffed, with a smile. "Yes, let them lock me up in an asylum."

Greg gave a growl and extended his hand. "Take my hand."

The smile faded from Draco's face. Both knew he wasn't going to touch him. Draco's pulse raced just thinking about it.

"This isn't a joking matter. You need help. It's been years and you still hate human contact; in fact, you've gotten worse. The imperious curse was used on you repeatedly. Not to mention the other dark spells she used when…" Greg paled, "It's bound to leave a mark — a healer might know where to start."

He sneered, his best Malfoy sneer. "Nothing like confessing incest to the family doctor."

"The imperious-"

"My father used that one up!" His wand was drawn, and the point stuck in Greg's neck.

The man didn't look phased. Instead, all he did was grab Draco's arm. In the next moment, Draco was running to the nearest bathroom to throw up.

"Just leave and I'll have the toy fixed by tonight," he said between bouts of nausea as he leaned over the toilet.

Instead of leaving, Greg sat on the bathtub and watched him with an amused expression on his face. "I think you're getting worse... I hear they have a spell now that can tell if you were truly under imperious."

Draco scowled.

"But just think," Greg just didn't know when to shut up. "It could have been the Dark Lord."

Draco kept his face over the toilet and spat out the taste from his mouth. He didn't have any food this morning, thankfully. He straightened and looked back at Greg. Greg's eyes were narrowed in thought. He missed the lumbering oaf.

"Right? Your aunt wouldn't have…"

"Drop it," Draco warned.

The man paled; amusement gone. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Nothing happened," not with him, "— that doesn't mean she didn't try." He'd never been so horrified or grateful he knew occlumency and how to feed memories he needed.

The bathroom door opened then, two aurors with their wands drawn. They blinked, dispelling the silencing spell that rested on the room. Thank goodness Greg had gotten smarter.

"Thought the worst," Potter said. "What are the two of you doing in a bathroom?"

Draco spun to say something nasty, too fast however that he was unstable. Potter attempted to steady him. The wrong thing to do. Draco spun back, dry heaving into the bowl.

"Oh - got it." Ron said smartly. "Malfoy is just ill. Throwing up in the bathroom is all."

Great, an audience and an announcement to the world.

"Do you need some help-" Harry moved closer.

"Don't touch me, Potter," Thankfully it came out as a sneering child — not in panic infused stuttering he'd had happen before. His heart hammered and his stomach revolted.

"Ungrateful git," Ron muttered.

He stood then. Quickly turning to the sink to cleanse his hands and face. The second he followed everyone out the door he caught an earful.

"If you were unwell, you should have said something. Bringing wards up and down is quite taxing — we could have tried another day," Flitwick said, concern in his tone.

Draco hated the sound of pity. "The wards are down, might as well try now."

"Actually, they are not," McGonagall said crisply. "The floorboards and chandelier shook and then the wards went back up. We figured it best to find you and make sure you were ok." Her eyes went between the two of them. "You were unaware of the wards going up?"

A slight — even if it needed to be asked. An owner and pureblood heir not noticing the wards. How had he not noticed? He pressed a hand against one wall. Yes, the wards were up… Well, interesting enough only some of them. He still should have known, but it was suspicious that not all of them went up.

"How long ago?" Draco asked.

"About a minute before we found you. We're quite good at finding people now," Ron said, "auror training and all."

Draco ignored the obvious gloat. "Were you attempting again?"

"No, we all love being here so much we decided to have a cup of tea," Severus drawled, it caught Draco's attention. The man was extending a pepper-up potion. Kind, but it was the opposite of what he needed. Pepper-up would only excite him more, his blood was still pumping far too much for his liking and the panic of being crowded was beginning to creep into his mind.

"Thank you, but-" As if waiting for the cue, Jiffy popped in with a potion on a platter. His heart rate slowed as he felt the cool glass on his fingertips. He showed the bottle to Severus. He was thankful he'd switched to colored glass. Severus would ask questions at the strange brown color of the potion. The potion was his own concoction, likely unhealthy but it did the trick.

Draco just had to make sure not to drink it in front of them. The potion made him more tolerant of human touch, but it left him out of sorts. It was like a calming draught, but the variation made him more cognitive and tended to last longer. He didn't go outside with it; it made his mind slow, and he could easily fall prey to a vindictive do-gooder. It would be noticeable to a potions master, and likely the other professors. Of course, the two aurors were probably trained to notice personality changes too.

The house elf gave him a look but knew better than to spout off in front of strangers. It would have demanded he drank it immediately had it just been him. Draco allowed the creature the leeway of treating him like a child, not the master of the house, as he found it endearing. He gave the elf a sharp nod, hoping to convey that he understood but wouldn't be able to take the potion until after they left.

"I'll need to investigate the wards. I have a couple of triggers that might have had issues depending on the spells you were using. Greg, if you want to go-"

"Nonsense."

So, with a nod to his guests, he went back down to the hall to the ballroom. The chalk runes looked different, but nothing Draco could identify that could cause such a reaction.

With a wave of his wand the wards dropped.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you are unwell-" Flitwick started.

"Try again," Draco cut him off.

Severus didn't hesitate and took his place around the leather. The others joined with only nods of their heads.

Magic changed subtly. If he hadn't been working so closely with old magics, he would have missed it. He closed his eyes, stretching his abilities. The house felt warm and familiar; comfort-soaked Draco's bones. The manor responded to his touch as he leaned against the wall. He could feel its curiosity. That made Draco's breath catch. The curiosity in his creatures he made were childish in comparison to what felt to be a true intellect. Intellect which rivaled his own. After making such a confession he questioned his sanity.

In response, the manor scoffed at him.