A Series of Unfortunate Ghosts

The Last Unfortunate Ghost

The last ghost approached slowly, and without any theatrics. No wind, no light, no forest scene, only the darkness persisted.

When it came to Draco, shrouded in a dark cloak, he felt hollowed out with sadness suddenly and without any reason to feel it. The room grew even colder and Draco saw his breath fog in front of his face. That's when he realized, to his dismay, that the only creature capable of such things was a Dementor.

It wore a deep black robe that was ripped at the bottoms; its face was concealed, in fact everything was concealed except one boney hand with a finger pointing outward. Draco remembered these things from third year when they roamed around the campus. He'd pretended he hadn't feared them, but the sorrow and dread that followed them wherever they roamed shook him to his core.

That year, a rogue Dementor followed Draco from the quidditch pitch after a practice. It lurked at the edge of the pathway until finally it stood between Draco and the entrance to the castle. The creature touched him, only for a moment, before Professor Snape caught up with them and chased the creature away. The emptiness he felt then had been so complete. It was as if the Dementor stole what made him human and he had no idea how to get it back. After that incident, Draco spent weeks trying to shake the feeling by taunting Harry and his mates into fights just to feel something, anything, that wasn't the complete emptiness the Dementor left him with that evening. It affected him so much so that being faced with one now it was all he could do to stand in its presence without breaking down.

He felt sure he was to die when the figure stood by his side; one kiss from a Dementor and everything would cease to exist. He was not foolish enough to think he could escape this scenario, for he never learned how to cast a Patronus Charm .

A cool sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to think of some spell, any spell, that might free him from the emptiness creeping in on him. For a dark, dark moment, dear reader, Draco let himself entertain the idea of dying as something not all together inconvenient, for it would mean the end to his pursuit of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet and end his indecision over Harry. He did not necessarily want to die, no, but the idea of being released from his obligations was tempting.

The figure did not speak, but it did place a bony hand on Draco's shoulder. A shudder went through his body at the Dementor's touch. It was just like that night third year. Draco felt everything good in him go out like a candle being snuffed. He could only think of one reason the Dementor would be his last visitor.

"I die? Is that what you've come to tell me?" Draco asked the cloaked figure, not entirely expecting an answer. Not entirely wanting one either. A fear had settled in him the moment the Dark Lord came to live at the manor and he knew he would die in this war. His father attempted comfort by saying if they died in pursuit of the cause it would be a noble death, a death worthy of a Malfoy. Though it was no comfort to Draco now, in fact, it had never been.

The Dementor stayed silent.

"Is this supposed to frighten me?" feigned Draco, for he was frightened. The weight of the Dementor's hand on his shoulder was like a constant inpouring of cold, empty sadness.

A nod came from the creature at his side. It was all the answer he received.

Although being used to odd goings on and ghosts, this night had proven to Draco that there were things at work inside this castle that he might never fully understand and he was uncertain if he wanted to understand. It was then that he remembered Dumbledore's words earlier that evening; his speech that there were many things to enjoy about the castle at Christmas. Was this the kind of thing Dumbledore had meant? Being haunted by his past, confused by his present, and scared of his future? He found himself wondering if Dumbledore had orchestrated this entire night. It would not shock him entirely; Dumbledore was a great, often odd, wizard who had been hinting to Draco since third year that there was another path for him. He'd even gone so far as showing Draco the Mirror of Erised, something he had thought to be a myth.