Thank you so much, TheLuckyRedneck! Your comment was the first I received on ATMJ, and it gave me exactly the push I needed to keep going. So, I'm dedicating this chapter to you, hope it lives up to your expectations. Have an amazing day!
Hermione Granger had been pacing the library for hours, her fingers brushing nervously along the dusty shelves without really looking for any particular book. The events of the past few days floated in her mind like a persistent fog, blocking any clear thought. With each step, she felt the cold presence of Draco Malfoy behind her, intangible but always there. His movements were slow, calculated, almost as if he were blending into the castle's shadows. It was strange to think she was the only one who could see him, sharing this unhealthy connection with a ghost she had once hated. Still hate.
The Malfoy register lay on the table, but it had revealed nothing more than what she had already discovered: pureblood lineages, arranged marriages, battles to preserve their name... yet nothing to explain why Draco was still trapped here, between two worlds.
"There must be something we haven't explored yet," she murmured, her eyes scanning the titles of old books without really seeing them. Her thoughts circled around the same question that had obsessed her since the previous nights: Why was Draco still here?
"I've told you already, Granger," Draco's voice echoed through the room, cold and detached. "Nothing in these books will give you an answer."
Hermione turned to him, her gaze meeting his translucent gray eyes. He was so close, yet he always seemed so far away, like a memory lost in the mist. It pained her to admit it, but he might be right. Nothing in the Malfoy registers or the ancient library texts had brought her any closer to the truth.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of frustration. "There has to be a way, a clue somewhere." She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking quickly. The Malfoy registers were a dead end, she knew that. But she wasn't ready to give up. There was still one lead she hadn't explored, a possibility that seemed so obvious now.
"The ghosts," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
She turned to him, a spark of determination in her eyes. "The ghosts of Hogwarts. Maybe they could help us. They all chose to stay here after death, but you…" She hesitated, searching for the right words. "You didn't have a choice, you said so yourself."
He looked at her with a wary expression. "You want to ask them about me? About why I'm still here?"
Hermione nodded. "They have experience, don't they? Maybe they know something we don't."
With an obvious lack of conviction, his eyes rolled. "Good luck with that, Granger. Those idiots bask in their little spectral existence, drifting from one end of the castle to the other without ever questioning anything."
Ignoring his sarcasm, she straightened up, grabbed her bag, and left the library. Draco followed her silently, slipping through walls and corridors with a disturbing ease. Hermione headed toward the Great Hall, where she knew the Hogwarts ghosts were often visible at this time of day.
Entering the vast hall lit by floating chandeliers, she quickly spotted Nearly Headless Nick, who was hovering casually near the Gryffindor table, engaging in polite conversation with some first-year students who were fascinated by his ghostly state.
Hermione approached him, feeling Draco's presence behind her, always invisible to everyone else. She took a deep breath before addressing the ghost.
"Sir Nicholas? May I ask you a few questions?"
The ghost turned his head toward her with a kind smile. "Ah, Miss Granger, always so studious! Of course, how can I assist you?"
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, uncertain of how to frame her question without sounding strange. "I wanted to know a bit more about... the nature of ghosts. Why do some choose to remain here at Hogwarts, while others do not?"
Nearly Headless Nick seemed surprised by her question, but he nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that's an interesting question. Ghosts are, for the most part, souls who have chosen to stay here for personal reasons. Often, it's because they fear what awaits them on the other side, or they have regrets. We don't move on because we've chosen not to."
Hermione nodded, considering this. "And… is it possible for someone to become a ghost without having made that choice?"
Nick looked at her curiously, a concerned crease appearing on his forehead. "That would be... very unusual. Normally, the choice is a conscious one. We all feel the moment when we must decide whether to go or stay. Why do you ask, Miss Granger?"
A slight hesitation marked the moment as she bit her lip, unsure about revealing her true interest. She glanced at Draco, who watched the exchange with a cold expression. He crossed his arms and sighed. "They won't know anything, Granger. They're fools."
She ignored him and turned back to Nick. "I'm just trying to understand... all the possibilities."
Nick fixed her with a long gaze, his ghostly eyes searching for a truth she wasn't sharing. "If someone became a ghost without choosing to... that would be a tragedy. It would mean they're trapped here against their will. But I've never heard of such a case in my life or in my death."
Beside her, Draco let out a bitter laugh. "See? I told you they wouldn't know anything."
She lowered her eyes, wondering if she was on the wrong track. But she couldn't give up now so she turned her attention back to Nick.
"And… what if a ghost were trapped here without knowing why?"
Nick regarded her with a mix of puzzlement and sympathy. "That would surely be very... troubling for them. But I'm afraid I can't help you further on that question. Perhaps you should speak with the Grey Lady. She has a very different perspective on the afterlife."
Hermione nodded slowly. "Thank you, Sir Nicholas."
The ghost nodded back and drifted away, visibly unsettled by the strange turn the conversation had taken. Hermione stood still for a moment, contemplating her options. The blond beside her made no effort to hide his exasperation.
"So now what? Are you going to interrogate every ghost in the castle?"
Hermione sighed. "If they have answers, yes." She made her way out of the Great Hall, determined to find the Grey Lady.
They found her near the Ravenclaw Tower, floating silently in a corner, her gaze lost in the void. Hermione approached carefully, mindful that she wasn't known for being very talkative.
"Excuse me," she murmured softly, catching the ghost's attention.
The Grey Lady turned her head slowly, her sorrowful eyes resting on Hermione. "Yes, Miss Granger? What can I do for you?"
Hermione hesitated for a moment before plunging in. "I have some questions... about ghosts. About what happens if someone... becomes a ghost without having wanted to. Is that possible?"
The Grey Lady remained silent for a moment, her eyes piercing Hermione's. "Why do you ask this, Miss Granger?"
Hermione felt her heart quicken. She knew she couldn't tell the truth, so she repeated what she said to Nick. "I'm just trying to understand all the possibilities."
The ghost stared at her, as if she were seeing right through her. "What you're asking is unusual. Ghosts are souls that refuse to leave, either out of fear or attachment to this world. But if a soul were forced to stay… that would be a curse."
Draco, beside her, muttered bitterly, "A curse, huh? Ridiculous."
Hermione turned slightly toward him, her brows furrowed. The word "curse" echoed in her mind like a distant bell. Part of her knew she couldn't ignore this possibility. If it really was a curse that had forced Draco to remain here, she had to know which one. But she also knew that asking directly might test the patience of the Grey Lady, who wasn't known for her tolerance.
"What kind of curse?" she asked cautiously, hoping not to exceed her patience.
The Grey Lady remained silent for a moment, her piercing gaze lost in the void. She seemed to be thinking, sifting through ancient, scattered memories. After a long silence, she slowly shook her head.
"I no longer know," Her words came out, like a breath on glass, barely leaving a trace. "It's been far too long… But perhaps the Bloody Baron knows more. He harbors secrets even I have forgotten."
Beside her, Draco let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. "The Bloody Baron? Seriously, Granger? Why not just go around asking every ghost in the castle while you're at it? Maybe Moaning Myrtle has some ideas, too."
Hermione ignored his mocking tone, but a weariness began to settle over her. He was right. She couldn't spend her time questioning every ghost in Hogwarts, hoping one of them had an answer. And yet, she had no other leads. The idea of a curse, as ridiculous as it might seem to Draco, was perhaps their only chance to understand why he was still here.
She sighed, resigned, and thanked the Grey Lady. "Thank you for your help," she said politely, though her words felt hollow.
The Grey Lady nodded gently before drifting away, her ghostly veil fading into the darkness of the Hogwarts corridors. As she disappeared from view, Hermione felt the ache of her own limitations pressing down.
She began to walk, without any clear direction, Draco still floating silently beside her for once. But she could feel his gaze on her, his perpetual mockery lying in wait, ready to surface at any moment. Eventually, he broke the silence.
"So, you're going to chase after the Bloody Baron now?" he asked, a shadow of a sarcastic smirk hovering on his translucent lips. "Maybe he'll tell you to go see someone else, too. Is that your grand plan, Granger? Question everyone until someone has a divine revelation?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and quickened her pace, feeling the weariness rise within her. She needed to breathe, to focus on something other than this unsolvable mystery. "I'm tired of this," she sighed. "You're right. Maybe I am wasting my time."
She turned abruptly into a corridor, heading toward the classroom wing. The silence stretched between them again, but this time it was her who imposed it. She couldn't bear his cutting remarks for now. She needed a moment to herself.
"Where are you going now?" Draco asked, floating beside her, his curiosity piqued.
Hermione didn't even glance at him as she replied, her tone sharper than she'd intended. "I have exams to prepare for, you know. The N.E.W.T.s, remember? I'm still alive, and I intend to stay that way long enough to pass."
She heard him chuckling behind her, clearly amused. When she reached the classroom door, he was already there beside her, wearing a sarcastic smile. Hermione could almost feel his gaze on her, analyzing her every move.
"What?" she asked, staring him down. "What's your problem?"
At that moment, a young first-year student walking down the hall clutching his books suddenly froze, his eyes widening in surprise. "Me?" he asked in a trembling voice, clearly terrified he'd done something wrong.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she immediately realized her mistake. She had been talking to Draco, but of course, the poor kid thought she was addressing him. Guilt washed over her, and she quickly tried to correct her blunder.
"Oh, no, not you," she said with a forced smile, trying to lighten the moment. "I was talking to my... imaginary friend. Junior."
The boy's face instantly crumpled, and he took a step back, staring at an invisible spot beside Hermione where Draco floated, unseen by everyone but her. His eyes darted back to Hermione, growing even wider, then without a word, he turned and bolted, clearly frightened.
Draco burst into laughter, a loud, mocking sound that filled the empty corridor. He was practically doubled over, laughing like he'd just witnessed the funniest thing of his life—or rather, his death.
Hermione, red with embarrassment, shot a glare at the blond, who was still laughing, his translucent form shaking slightly. "It's not funny," she muttered, knowing he wouldn't stop anytime soon.
"Oh, it was hilarious!" Draco exclaimed between fits of laughter. "Junior? Really, Granger? That's the best you could come up with? No wonder the kid ran off!"
She shook her head, exasperated by his childish behavior. "Yes, well, I improvised, okay?" she said before stepping into the classroom, quickening her pace to escape him. But, of course, he followed effortlessly, floating just above the ground, his feet barely visible under his ghostly robes.
The Arithmancy classroom was empty as usual. Hermione took her usual seat at the front. No one else liked sitting there, preferring the back rows, like Harry and Ron, who hated being too close to the board. Hermione, on the other hand, loved the quiet of the front rows, away from the chatter and distractions.
Malfoy settled himself into the empty chair next to her without invitation, a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Ah, all alone at the front, like a true know-it-all. No surprise there."
She rolled her eyes. "No one sits here," she said, laying her things on the table. "It helps me concentrate."
"No one sits here because no one wants to be within three meters of Vector, Granger. That old bat might spring a pop quiz just for fun." He crossed his arms, leaning back casually. "So, what's new in the thrilling world of numbers and theorems?"
Hermione ignored him and pulled out her parchment. Septima Vector, the Arithmancy professor, would be arriving soon, and she needed a few minutes to review her notes before class started. She opened her textbook to the folded corner page and immersed herself in reading.
The silence in the room only lasted a few seconds before Draco broke it again. "You know, this class might be the reason I decided to jump."
Hermione stopped reading and looked up at him. His gray eyes met hers with an amused glint, but there was something else behind them, something she couldn't quite place. She hesitated, then whispered, almost to herself, "You're joking a lot for someone who committed suicide."
He looked at her without a word for a moment, his eyes darkening. "Now that it's done, what's the point in denying it?" His voice was calm, devoid of emotion, but the undertone was chilling.
The young witch abruptly turned to her parchment, unwilling to extend this conversation. The class began as other students slowly took their seats, Harry and Ron settling, as usual, at the back, whispering to each other. Their teacher tapped her wand against the board, and instantly, a series of complex mathematical symbols appeared in a flash of magical chalk.
"Today, we will resume our work on the derivation of magical matrices and their influence on complex spells," she announced firmly, while the students sighed quietly.
Hermione was already taking diligent notes, absorbed in the topic. She loved Arithmancy, that perfect blend of logic and magic. But next to her, Draco didn't seem to share her enthusiasm.
He sighed loudly. "Merlin, this is dull."
Hermione shot a quick glance in his direction before continuing to write. "You're a ghost, Malfoy," she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid drawing Vector's attention. "No one's forcing you to attend class, so if you could refrain from complaining while I'm working, that'd be great."
Crossing his arms, he pouted like a five-year-old, but he said nothing. For once, he seemed to have gotten the message. Hermione returned her focus to her notes, though she could still feel the ghost's presence right beside her.
The class continued without incident as the minutes slowly passed. At one point, Hermione lost track a bit, engrossed in a particularly complex equation. But the calm was abruptly broken when Septima Vector placed her wand on her desk, her stern gaze sweeping the classroom.
"It seems some of you aren't very focused today," she said, fixing a group of Slytherins in the back who were whispering among themselves. "We're going to correct that with a little pop quiz."
A murmur of protest rippled through the room. Sighs and grumbles sounded all around her, but she stayed still, her heart suddenly beating faster. A surprise quiz? Now?
She looked at her notes with a slight panic, wondering if she had revised enough. Around her, other students were exclaiming in frustration, some visibly scowling at the thought of an unplanned test.
Even Malfoy, who had no reason to worry, let out a long sigh. "Great. A quiz for the living… and even I have to endure the effects."
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep her anxiety in check. She hadn't planned for a test, but she knew she could do it if she stayed focused. Vector began distributing the parchments with ruthless efficiency, her stern face making it clear that she expected everyone to take this test very seriously.
When she placed the parchment in front of her, Hermione took a deep breath and began reading the questions. Symbols and equations danced before her eyes, but she forced her mind to calm, focusing on the cold logic of Arithmancy.
Next to her, the ghost continued muttering disparaging remarks, even though he had no assignments to complete. "If there were a spell to make this class any more unbearable, Vector would have invented it."
Hermione gripped her quill a little tighter, trying to ignore his constant comments, but it was like trying to block out an annoying buzzing at the back of her mind. He didn't seem to understand that, unlike him, she really had to pass this test. She had goals and expectations to meet. He, on the other hand, had nothing left to lose.
"Malfoy," she muttered between hastily written lines, "you're not taking this test. So stop complaining and let me concentrate."
"Miss-Know-It-All," Draco murmured disdainfully, resting his head on an invisible hand before setting his elbows on the desk in front of him, his chin slumping into his crossed arms like a bored child.
Hermione shook her head in disapproval. She didn't have time to deal with his sarcasm today. Especially not in the middle of a surprise test.
She focused back on her parchment, her eyes quickly scanning the first questions. So far, so good. The first Arithmancy equations were solid basics that she mastered; the magical matrices and derivatives were still fresh in her mind. She scribbled down her answers confidently, her precise, neat handwriting filling the lines quickly. But as she progressed, anxiety began to build within her.
When she reached the second-to-last problem, her pace slowed dramatically. She frowned, rereading the instructions several times. A four-dimensional matrix with a non-linear duplication charm… Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine. This was a level of complexity she hadn't anticipated. Her heartbeat quickened.
She took up her quill again and tried to start the exercise, laying out a few hypotheses and rewriting the first lines of the equation. But the further she went, the more the exercise slipped away from her. Each attempted solution led her to a dead end. Panic began to take root in her chest.
I know this formula… she thought, trying to recall the last class where Septima Vector had discussed nested matrices. But nothing came to mind. The pressure was mounting. The other exercises, so well done, suddenly felt insignificant in the face of this one. This was exactly the kind of problem that could ruin her average. If only I'd had more time to study… But the reality was there: she'd been too distracted and preoccupied lately by the whole Draco Malfoy situation.
Her leg started to jiggle nervously under the table. Her foot tapped frenetically on the floor without her even realizing it, as her thoughts whirled in vain, searching for a solution to the problem. She bit her lip, a gesture she hadn't done in years, her mind desperately trying to dig into her memory to find the correct method. But nothing surfaced. Calm down, Hermione, calm down.
Then, a shadow leaned over her. A translucent hand gently appeared on her parchment, pointing to a line in the equation.
"There," murmured Malfoy's deep, masculine voice.
She looked up, surprised. Draco was standing just behind her, bent over her shoulder, his face inches from hers. His gray gaze, strangely focused, scanned her parchment. For the first time since he had become a ghost, he looked serious, almost involved. He traced the line of the equation with his finger once more, then met her eyes.
A quiet pause lingered, giving her just enough space to grapple with the moment. How could he know? She remembered very well that Malfoy had never been particularly good at Arithmancy. In fact, she doubted he had ever followed the class with as much focus as she had. So how could he understand an exercise this complex when even she couldn't solve it?
She blinked, hesitating for a moment, then whispered, "I don't like cheating."
He raised an eyebrow, his expression remaining impassive before he abruptly sat up straight, folding his arms as he sat back beside her, as if he had never really intended to help her at all.
At the same time, the Ravenclaw student behind her looked at her, visibly puzzled. He had leaned forward slightly, and when he met her gaze, he murmured with a hint of concern, "But… I'm not cheating."
Hermione blinked, still caught in the confusion of the situation, before realizing what he implied. She turned to him, her cheeks slightly red. "Oh, no, I wasn't saying you were cheating," she hastily replied, her voice rushed. "I was just saying that… that I don't like cheating. It was… it was just general information, you see…"
The Ravenclaw stared at her, looking increasingly lost in the face of her flimsy explanation. He nodded uncertainly before looking away, preferring to focus back on his own work. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek again. Great, now she looked crazy even to her classmates, she thought, clenching her teeth.
And, of course, she immediately heard a muffled laugh to her left. Malfoy, half-transparent, was laughing softly, his shoulders shaking with amusement. He said nothing, but his mocking gaze was enough to make her simmer.
"It's not funny," she murmured through clenched teeth, her face hidden behind her parchment. "I really don't like cheating."
Draco nodded with a sarcastic smirk. "Oh, that's clear," he said, staring at her intently. "Except you looked so stressed I thought you were about to cause an earthquake with your foot."
Hermione gripped her quill a little tighter, feeling heat rise to her cheeks, she was teetering on the edge of a panic attack. But the worst part was that he was right. The answer he had given her was there, perfectly logical, simple, almost obvious now that she knew it.
And yet…
She let her gaze fall, feeling the rush of her pulse as she stared at the paper. The quill trembled slightly in her fingers as she hesitated. Should she write it down? Or should she leave the space blank and admit she hadn't been able to find the solution? No, Hermione, you can't do that. You don't cheat. You never have.
But there, before that parchment, under the mocking gaze of the blond boy, she faced a decision she had never thought she would have to make.
Slowly, almost against her own will, Hermione let the quill slide over the parchment, tracing the lines of the correct equation. Draco's answer.
Oh my God, I can't believe I cheated.