A Series of Unfortunate Ghosts

The Second Unfortunate Ghost

"Bollocks this," Draco said to himself, feeling quite silly for letting Myrtle's words rattle him, and resolving to ignore them, got back into bed.

Again, dear reader, I do hope you understand as ghosts were a regular occurrence at Hogwarts, Draco found the appearance of Myrtle, while a tad odd, not frightening enough to keep him from the sleep he so desperately craved. And so he closed his eyes, thinking of Myrtle's words of warning, even though he thought them to be tosh.

When Draco settled back in his blanket and drew the curtains on three sides of his bed shut, the last, the one facing the door, he left open a crack and he cast a Tempus charm. It was half past midnight. If Myrtle was to be taken seriously, the next ghost should arrive within thirty minutes time. Considering this and the potential interruption it posed, Draco decided to stay awake until the clock struck one, for if the ghost did not show then he would simply assume none would come and he could finally get to sleep. If he were to have a visitor, then staying awake until they arrived would ensure Draco not get caught unaware again.

Time ticked by slowly. Casting a Tempus every two minutes, Draco was growing impatient and agitated and just about every word synonymous with annoyed. There was a passing thought about how prompt ghosts would be since they were, after all, dead, and how much could time truly mean to them—then Draco got well and truly annoyed at his current situation.

"One minute," said Draco to himself for good measure. He watched the door through the small opening in his drawn curtains for any sign that another ghost would be his visitor this night. Counting down in his head, Draco got to zero and instantly a bright light flashed through the room, blinding him.

The curtains of his bed were all drawn open and he tried to blink his eyes to adjust to the light, but it was too much. Scrambling for his wand, which had fallen at his side in his shock, Draco tried to close one of the curtains for some relief from the light. Before he could manage either task, the light receded like a tide and Draco, upon opening his eyes, found himself staring at the ghostly visage in his doorway.

It was a strange sight—for Draco recognized this ghost as well; it was the ghost of the deceased Regulus Black, his distant relative. He appeared as a young man, Hogwarts age, in his Slytherin sweater and tie. His hair was long and black and tucked behind his ears; the face had not a blemish upon it, in fact, there was the faintest blush in the cheeks that made Draco wonder if he was truly looking at a ghost or not. Quite in contrast, his hands were blackened and cracking, as if he were turning to stone right there on the spot. He stood, casually, against the doorframe with a small smile on his lips. Around his neck swung a pendant of great design. But the oddest thing that struck Draco was this ghost, unlike Myrtle, was not translucent. He seemed as solid as Draco. As real, too.

"Are you the ghost I'm supposed to be expecting?" asked Draco with a small amount of amusement playing at the corner of his mouth at his situation. "You don't much look like any ghost I've ever seen."

"What do you think?" The voice was soft and gentle. Low, whispering, yet Draco heard him as if they were mouth to ear.

"I think , I'd like some sleep," Draco answered, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "You're Regulus Black, aren't you? I've seen your picture in the family histories. You're Sirius' brother."

"I am." The ghost bowed, bending at his middle. The pendant swung like a pendulum as he did so. "And you are Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune and recent Death Eater, serving the Dark Lord and his ghastly plans. Making the same old family mistakes, I see? How dull, Draco. I'd expected more from you."

"This is ridiculous," huffed Draco. "You don't know me or my circumstance."

"I know more than you think, Draco." Extending a blackened hand, Regulus asked, "Shall we, then?"