It's time for another chapter. Woohoo! Let me just put on some good music for this. Wooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh sweet child of mine! Yeah, that was obnoxious. Please read on!

A Few Notes: I keep getting asked about whether or not Lucius was the one who died…erm, Draco's in hiding from his father and the other Death Eaters…so…no, he isn't dead.

Qem: I laughed out loud when I got your review, just because I myself had a very similar reaction when I went to update the story and saw the new format for the login.

Kamikaze-chan: Might I just say that all your reviews put a smile on my face and a song in my heart? And I'm happy to know that you're enjoying this story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise the series would have been a bit like this.

Warnings: Swearing, crying, sad stuff. But good stuff too!

Ghosts

Chapter Three

The next few days were filled with silence. Harry would read through his textbooks or the Daily Prophet and just ignore Draco. Draco extended this same courtesy back to him. It was not so much that they were giving each other the silent treatment as they just had nothing else to say to each other.

It was soon Tuesday and Harry began packing up all his stuff. Draco's few belongings, including some spare clothes that someone had given him, who knew who, very easily fit in Harry's trunk with the rest of his stuff. Draco didn't have his broom or his textbooks but he did have his wand. Draco didn't seem particularly concerned about this. Harry supposed Dumbledore had made arrangements for Draco's school things.

I've surprised he didn't just leave it for me to deal with.

No, there was no reason to start acting like he had to do everything. It wouldn't help and it was damn annoying. He promised himself to give himself a kick in the pants if he started acting like that. But still, he couldn't stand the way things were just handed to him to do and he was expected to do them because, well, he was the hero of the Wizarding World.

There was a sense of "Why me?" that came whenever he thought of the Prophecy. Why me? Why did they have to die? Why did Voldemort have to come and destroy everything that mattered to him? Why did they survive? Why did he have to go and kill him?

Because that's the way things are.

That was the best answer he could come up with. The only answer that really fit at all. He had to stand up on his two feet and look the world in the face. And he could do it, even if he sometimes felt like collapsing and saying…and saying…

I just don't want to.

And now it was time for bed. And the next day they'd be leaving. So tonight, it would be peaceful. Tomorrow he would have to get up and face the world again. Nothing would change things between them, nothing ever had.

Until that night.

Harry dreamed.

Falling through the curtain. Falling through and he wouldn't get up! Why wouldn't he get up? Harry ran towards the curtain but he was too slow. He was always too slow! He could feel Lupin's arms straining to keep him back. He kicked and struggled against someone he considered a friend. Someone he considered his mentor.

"Let me go!" He called out. He always called out because he wanted to be next to him. He wanted to be there, to at least feel the last of the warmth leave Sirius' body. To feel the last bit of love leaving. He was Harry's family. He was Harry's only family. He needed him. He needed him…

"NO!" Harry sat up, screaming out loud. And before he could stop himself, he realized he was crying, tears were streaming down his face. Why couldn't he get over it? Why couldn't it hurt less? Why did Sirius die?

And even as he tried to swallow it all and bury it deep down in himself, tears poured down. He kept seeing little flashes of memory. The sparkle of happiness that had come to Sirius eye when Harry agreed to live with him. The way Sirius laughed. The haunted look. The idea that this man had to spend all those years alone, all those years with everyone who once cared about him thinking he was a murderer and a traitor. What did that man do? Did he stare up at the night sky and think of freedom or how he wanted nothing more than to go back in time and change it all? No happy thoughts left for him. Nothing. Just unbearable loneliness.

In that moment, Harry knew just what it would have felt like. Even though he had friends, even though he had people watching out for him, he could feel horribly alone. His family was gone. He kept trying to stop his tears but he was just crying harder, calling for someone. He wasn't sure for who.

"Potter." The voice didn't really affect him. It felt so far away and Harry just wanted to stop hurting for a few moments. "Potter."

But he was lost in memories. He was lost in a sea of loneliness and just trying to reach out to find one other person who knew. That's what Sirius wanted in life, to be able to reach out his hand and feel someone else grab hold of it. Not to fall through a curtain but to be caught…to be saved.

Harry's hand went out and it felt fabric. He didn't know what came over him but he fell against the warm fabric, something he had never experienced. No one had ever been near him when he cried. Or if he did, someone would pat him on the back or just try to comfort him with words. But words aren't really as comforting as the warm presence of another human being.

He felt a hand on his back. Two hands on his back. Someone was holding him. Someone was letting him cry on them. For the first time. He was the strong one, he couldn't stop being that person. But maybe for a moment…maybe for a moment, it might stop hurting if he clung to someone.

There were no words. Just a person holding him and Harry holding back, squeezing tightly. Was it Sirius? Somehow reaching out to him from beyond the grave? He needed family…was this his family? Was it his mother's warm smile that he had seen in photographs smiling down at him? Was it his father's bright eyes looking down at him?

The tears did stop. He went silent. He was content to stay there. The body made to move but Harry didn't want it to. And so they lay there together until Harry's eyes finally closed again and his dreams came again. But this time, they were not about death or Sirius. They were about…

The nature of dreams is hard to explain. One can wake up in a state of sweating terror and not be able to tell you a single thing about the dream. Or they can wake up with a beautiful smile on their face and saying how they must have had a lovely dream, if only they could remember!

Some dreams are emotions, not images.

When Harry opened his eyes, he saw that there was no one lying next to him. Had that person been a dream themselves? Or was it…? He shook his head. No reason to be stupid. Of course it wasn't anyone of them. They were dead. He was such an idiot. He always thought there was some way they could come back and of course they couldn't.

He was just staring at empty pillow space now. He turned over. Draco was sitting in a chair, the only chair, staring back at him. There was something intense and strange about the way Draco was looking at him. Something that made it seem impolite to look away. Draco looked as though he wanted to figure something out, but only Harry knew the real answer to it.

Wait…was it a dream? Or was it…Draco?

That startled him a bit. And he wanted to dismiss the notion entirely. It didn't happen that way…it wasn't him. He wasn't hiding some soft spirit beneath those layers of hate. That was stupid and cliché. It was a different reason altogether…something…

"I'm going to go take a shower." Draco announced, standing up, still looking at him. Harry stared back at him, unable to make a sound at that moment. The way they had been looking at each other, it had not been pity or sympathy…it was something like understanding. An understanding, yeah. Not that they completely understood each other but they understood something about each other.

Was it you?

Of course…who else could it have been?

But it was better if neither of them said anything. That was part of the understanding. That they just continue as though nothing had happened at all. Except, it was kind of impossible so they went for as close as they could.

Draco backed out of the room and Harry sat up, glancing out the window. Bright blue skies glared back at him. It was Wednesday, they would be leaving today. He had told his aunt and uncle already, he was pretty sure they were planning a good riddance party for the moment he left.

Nothing left to do but to shower and then wait. Of course he had to wait for Draco to get out of the shower as well. He found himself staring at the ceiling again. He didn't quite understand what had happened. He shouldn't be thinking about it, because they weren't going to talk about it but still…why would Draco do that?

A peacefulness had settled between them. Somewhat. At least they could talk without sounding like they just wanted to rip each other's head off. Harry got up and showered after Draco. They ate some food and then they sat in Harry's room.

They didn't come until it was dark. Lupin was in the lead, with Tonks and a few of the other members of the Order. They all crowded around him. Tonks gave him a friendly cuff on the back of the head and a 'Wotcher!' Remus Lupin, who had looked so much worse after Sirius died, was still pale and thin. There were rings under his eyes. He looked like he needed a decent week of sleep.

Draco hung back during the friendly greetings. He just watched them all with his calculated expression. No one really acted particularly friendly towards him, nor did they act rudely. It was the kind of indifferent kindness that rises up in people when they have absolutely no idea what to do in that situation. If anything, people were overly polite to him. Draco seemed to be used to this.

Then it was time to load everything up on the brooms and they had a spare one for Draco, and then they took off. Mad-Eye wasn't with them and so the broom ride ended up being shorter than Harry remembered. It was too bad. Harry knew he would be glad to have Hermione and Ron with him again, but Draco was there now too. How would that affect everything at Grimmauld Place?

They touched down in London and just as they had before, there was a piece of paper waiting to be read by Draco. Draco read it and threw the piece of paper over his shoulder. The house was there in front them.

As they walked up to the door, Harry glanced over at Draco, who looked nervous and pale. He didn't know what to expect. Or, he did know what to expect. The same thing he had expected when he showed up at Harry's door. Perhaps he was even anxious to go ahead and get it over with. Harry wondered what he was thinking about right then. Draco saw him looking at him and quickly looked and scowled. Harry smiled. He didn't fool Harry. He could pretend that he was perfectly alright with all of this but he knew he wasn't.

"Hey." Harry caught Draco's sleeve with one hand. Draco turned towards him, not quite meeting his eyes.

"What?" Draco looked irritable.

"Nothing." Harry shook his head, not quite understanding why a smile was twitching at the corners of his mouth. Or for that matter, why the corners of Draco's own mouth twitched upwards. There was a moment of silence, the others shuffling towards the door in front of them.

"It was Nott." Draco said, almost without thinking. Harry stared at him with a confused expression.

"Nott?" Harry knew he knew the name. Was he someone from school?

"That's who it was." Draco elaborated a little. Harry still couldn't quite make the connection. "That's the person who died." Then he turned away from the green-eyed boy and made his way towards the door.

Harry's brow furrowed. Why had Draco told him that? And if Nott, Theodore Nott, he remembered, was dead, why would Harry be the reason? He could barely recall the stringy Slytherin boy he had spotted only a few times with Draco. If Nott was dead…

Who had killed him?

He sped up to catch up with the others who were filing quietly inside. It was time to see Ron and Hermione.

Oh, you totally thought I was going to write that next part in this chapter, didn't you? Nope. No Ron and Hermione for you until the next chapter! I might have been over emotional at the time and listening to music that reminds me of this story at the time, but I started crying while I wrote one of the parts. Guess which one? I like how this chapter turned out but I don't know if anyone else will like it. Well, I still like it. Kisses!