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Draco didn’t know who cast the curse that killed him, all he knew was that one moment he was standing in the entrance hall looking for his parents and the next he felt pain in the chest and his body fell down to the floor. His soul left it and floated farther and farther away until all he could see was darkness.

Katie Pérez was bored, so she decided to go over her great-grandmother’s sister’s things in search of something that could appeal her ten year old imagination.

Her great-grandmother’s sister had passed away the week before, and although Katie, her parents, and her sister, didn’t know her, they were her only living relatives, so all her things were in the Pérez attic.

She found a lot of plants, bottles with weird liquids in them, and a trunk full of old books. She read the titles but all sounded very boring, until she found one, Awaking The Dead. She engrossed herself in it for days, and weeks, until she thought that she knew the basics: it was time to resurrect someone.

She waited until it was really late at night, made the necessary preparations; she lit candles, filled a vase with blood, and drew a circle on the floor. Then she said the words, waited five seconds, and a blond, tall, teenager appeared in the middle of the circle.

Suddenly, he felt a pull that dragged him away from the light he was starting to glimpse and back to the darkness. Wasn’t he dead after all?

He had closed his eyes, but opened them when he heard a muffled shout of joy. He found himself in some kind of bedroom. It was a small room with a bed and bookshelves full of books and little boxes. In front of him was a grinning little girl. Draco stared at her, not knowing what to say or how to react. What are you supposed to do when you’re sure you’re dead but you’re in a weird room instead?

“Hi! Welcome to the nineties! You must be from the Middle Ages, right?” the girl asked.

“What? Where am I? Who are you?”

“You’re in nineteen ninety-eight. You—”

“I know what year it is! That’s not what I’m asking you, you little idiot!”

“Oh! I thought you were a druid because you are wearing that tunic.”

“It’s a robe. And I’m a wizard, not a druid. Druids are from the Celtic people…,” it was easier to ramble about druids then analyze the situation he was in.

“A wizard, then,” interrupted the girl to placate him.

“You haven’t answered, who are you? How did I arrived here? Where the fuck am I!?”

He was starting to panic. Nothing in the room indicated a link to the magical world, so he must be in a Muggle area, in a Muggle house, with a Muggle girl able to do some kind of magic.

“My name’s Katie Pérez. My dad is from Spain, but my mum is from Leeds. We’re living in London now because of mum’s work, you know?”

“As fascinating as it sounds, I don’t care about your family history, Peerees.”

“It’s PER-eth. It’s Spanish.”

“Whatever. So we’re at your house in London, right?”

“Yes. My parents are sleeping across the hall, and my sister is in the next room. So don’t make too much noise.”

“And how did I end up here? I was in Scotland in the middle of a battle, I was sure I was dead, but then I found myself here.”

“In a battle? Are you some kind of wizard-prince?”

“Answer my question, you filthy Muggle!” Draco was losing his patience with the girl.

How the hell did a little Muggle like her manage to bring him here?

“I’m not filthy! And I’m not a Muggle, whatever that is. You should be kinder.”

“I’m kind to the people I like, not to annoying girls with a weird interest for their boring family history.”

“Okay, I’m going to answer all of your questions because I understand this is a stressful situation for you, but you have to be kind to me from now on! Deal?” She asked trying to sound serious, but she looked like a teacher scolding a three year old.

“Deal,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes.

“Okay!” she brightened, “So, you’re dead. I found a book in the attic that was about how to resurrect people. I memorized the ritual, lit the candles, put some chicken blood in a glass, and…”

“Chicken blood?”

“The book said you needed blood to bring the dead back, but it didn’t specify what kind of blood, so I just use the blood of a chicken I found in the fridge.”

“The fridge...? Nevermind. Go on.”

“Then I drew the circle you’re in, said the incantation, and you appeared! It was mean to bring back someone from the past, but you’ve told me you just died… Maybe I did something wrong,” the girl, Katie, started to skim hurriedly through the pages of an old, giant book she had on the bedside table while muttering to herself.

“So I’ve been resurrected by an amateur necromancer. Great, just great. Well, miss Pérez,” he said the name in a mocking tone, “I’m leaving. I have better things to do.”

He tried to get out of the chalk circle on the floor but it was like an invisible wall stopped him.

“What the fuck?”

“Mmm?” Katie looked up from the book. “Oh, you can’t leave the circle without the incantator’s, that is, my permission.”

“I can go wherever I want!” Draco said, frustrated because the invisible wall was still there.

“You can leave,” she said in a solemn tone and with a magnanimous gesture of her hands. If Draco weren’t so worried about what was happening, he would have laughed at her.

She said that in the moment that Draco was pushing the wall with all his strength, so at her words he propelled forwards with too much force, almost hitting the wall in front of him.

He looked at her with disdain, then aimed for the door. He was about to turn the handle, when his hand went through it. He stared at his hand in wonderment. Draco put his hand on the door and pushed; the hand went through the door without problem.

“You didn’t resurrect me, you half brained Muggle! I’m a ghost!” he exclaimed furious.

“Yeah… I was about to tell you about that part. The author of the book says that it’s impossible to resurrect someone; you only can bring back their spirit, you know?”

Draco didn’t wait for the rest of her explanation. He went through the door and landed in a short corridor. He thought that maybe, as a ghost, he could just float through the floor, but he didn’t dare to do it. If he could help it, he was going to feign being alive a little longer.

He just come out of the last step when he found himself facing a teenager girl surprisingly similar to the girl upstairs.

He panicked, but the girl went through him without noticing. So Katie can see me, but no one else can. He didn’t know if that was something good.

He was in the street. It was very early in the morning, but the sun was starting to rise. He wondered how things were going at Hogwarts, if his parents were alive. He closed his eyes and wished to be there with them.

Draco heard voices, cries, and sobs. The street was very quiet so he must be in another place. He opened his eyes. He was in the Great Hall. People were in groups, crying and hugging each other. On the floor he saw Lavender Brown’s body, and a little to her left, Fred or George Weasley was surrounded by his family, Granger, and Potter. So Potter won. The Dark Lord is dead, he thought with relief.

He wandered the Great Hall, looking for his parents. Nobody seemed to noticed him, even when he shouted his parents names. His heart dropped every time he saw a blond head on the floor. Finally, he found them. They were in a corner, hugging each other fiercely, and crying with a grief he had never heard before from anyone. He saw his own body, bloody and dirty on the floor.

It was then when it hit him: he was irrevocably dead. He wouldn’t do all the things he wanted to do. He’d never know if he could be an unspeakable, something he wanted to be since his father told him about them. He’d never know if he had a chance with the boy he liked. He’d never...

“Mister Malfoy, Missers Malfoy? You have to come with us,” said a voice, bringing Draco back to reality.

Two aurors were standing in front of his parents, looking serious and menacing. Draco’s heart dropped. Surely they weren’t go to Azkaban, right? After the year they had.

“No!” his mother shouted, tears falling down her face. “I can’t leave Draco here, please!”

His father just stared at his mother and the aurors, with an empty expression that Draco had only seen when he came back home after being in Azkaban.

“Missers Malfoy, you are a Death Eater, we have to take you to Azkaban to await your trials. Now, you can come with us voluntarily or we can force you. Your choice.”

Draco wanted to punch him. How dare he talk like that to his mother?

Narcissa looked again at Draco’s body, and then stepped closer to the aurors. They cast a spell, making it impossible for any of the Malfoys to move their hands, and escorted them outside. Draco went with them.

They were near the lake when he felt something pulling him. He tried to resist, but the pull was too strong. A second later, he was standing again in a chalk circle on Katie’s bedroom.

“What do you think you’re doing, you disgusting creature?” He shouted as soon as he could.

“I fou—”

“I was doing something important! I was with my parents, I don’t know where the fuck those idiots are going to put them! I don’t know what’s going to happen to them! Stop playing around with other people’s lives—!”

“Technically, I’d be playing with your death.”

If Draco had had his wand in that moment, he would have cast a cruciatus curse. He understood Myrtle’s sensitivities better than ever before. It was truly awful to have people remind you of your own death.

“Listen, here, you filthy girl…!”

“You promised to be nice, remember? And I only called you back because I found something important!”

“I think that you and I have different opinions about what’s important and what isn’t.”

He tried to Disapparate as he had done before in the street, but nothing happened. Maybe it was because he was in the circle, so he needed the incantator permission to leave in any form.

“And let me leave this damn circle!”

“No until you listen to me,” Katie said with a laughable glare.

“Fine. What?”

“You are a ghost, BUT you can move objects if you gather your ectoplasme!”

He should admit that that was interesting. After all, he wanted to feel like a living person, and touching things was an important part of it.

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know, all that Motheaten says is that you have to gather your ectoplasme,” she looked at him expectantly.

“Motheaten? Is that the author’s name? I’m not doing anything that someone that’s called that says.”

“It’s a pseudo. I don’t know her real name…Aren’t you going to try at least?”

“I need to touch things in order to move them, but there’s nothing inside the circle.” It was his turn to glare, although he fancied to think that his was a real glare.

“Oh, sorry! You can leave!” she made that ridiculous gesture again. She reminded him of Granger in their First Year, making exaggerated flicks with her wand, like she was playing at be a witch.

Draco approached the desk at his left and tried to pick up a book. His hand passed through the book and the wood below. He tried again and again with the same result. If he could do this, maybe he could help his parents get out of Azkaban. He could nick their cell keys and set them free.

“It’s not working,” said a irritant voice behind him.

“I know!”

“Are you doing the ‘gathering the ectoplasme’ part? Maybe that’s what’s failing.”

“Why don’t you go to sleep? Isn’t it late for a little girl like you to be up?” He said, trying to be left alone.

“It’s 9 o’clock in the morning.”

“Go have breakfast then.”

“Katie! Breakfast!” a voice said from the hall.

Draco glanced triumphantly at her. She scowlded back.

“Coming, mum!”

Katie hurriedly left the room leaving Draco alone at last. He tried to pick some things he found in the room again, but he couldn’t. In the end, he decided to float in the room thinking about what had happened.

That day seemed to have lasted forever. At that same hour the day before he had attended classes, like any other Friday. He had joked with Pansy, had a little fight with Greg and Vince… At night came the news: Hogwarts was being attacked by Death Eaters. He had seen people died before, but nothing had prepared him for the battle. He saw little children fighting. He saw how the flames had devoured the entire Room of Requirement, Vincent included. He had seen so much… Then it all ended with his death, before he could even find his parents, or tell them that he was alive. And now, all he was was a stupid ghost that couldn’t gather his fucking ectoplasme! He punched the armoire door in his anger.

He actually punched the door! He had felt a brief pain in his hand, and the door opened a bit due to the hit. He tried again, but it didn’t worked. Maybe he needed to be really angry for it to work.

He was thinking about things that annoyed him in an attempt to get angry with himself again, when the bedroom door opened and a very upset Katie entered.

“They didn’t allowed your plushies at the breakfast table?” he mocked.

“Shut up!”

She sat on her bed, and tears ran freely down her face. Katie wiped them with an angry fist.

“I thought we had agreed to be nice to each other.” Draco said with singsong.

“Susie is an idiot! She said I dropped the biscuits, but I didn’t!” Katie half shouted.

“Who’s Susie?”

“My sister.” Draco remembered the girl from that morning. “She said I was a clumsy prat! But I’m not! I saw a spider and I was about to shout for my mum or my dad so they’d kill it, but when the spider moved I got more scared, and then the tray with the biscuits ended up on the floor! But it wasn’t me! I wasn’t even near it!”

“Were you alone in the kitchen?” Draco asked curiously, refraining himself for mocking the girl about her fearing spiders.

“Yes. When they heard the noise, my parents and my sister came…”

“Interesting. And where were the biscuits?”

“On the counter. The spider was on the table. Why? Why do you care so much?” Katie asked confused.

“Has things like that happened to you before?” Katie looked at him even more confused. “You know, things that fly, blow up, or fall down when you’re scared?”

“What? Stop mocking me! I don’t move things when I’m scared!” she said angrily.

A little box fell down from its shelf.

“I think that’s exactly what you do.”

Draco was starting to feel better with himself. Katie was a witch, so it explained why she could resurrected him or, well, brought him back to Earth as some kind of ghost.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a Mudblood.”

“I’m not filthy!”

“That means that you’re a witch born of Muggle parents, you idiot,” he said rolling his eyes.

Katie looked at him with her mouth agape. Draco could see her struggling between believing him and thinking that he was mocking her again. He decided to help her.

“It has never happened to you before? Maybe you were angry or scared, wishing that something happened to save you, and then, inexplicably, it happened. It happened to me. The first time I did magic was because Father was angry with me, so I made a book hit his head,” Draco said, smiling at the memory of Lucius looking annoyed at him, but proud at the same time. He had forgiven him after that, and bought him an ice cream.

“I…,” Katie began shyly, “I set my sister’s doll on fire once. I didn’t tell anyone, but I knew it was me because there wasn’t anyone with me at that moment.”

Katie’s eyes were shining with delight, without a doubt imagining all the things she could do as a witch.

“See? You’re a Mudblood.”

“Isn’t that a really ugly way of calling someone a witch?” she asked, her brow furrowed, “And what’s a Muggly?”

“A Muggle,” Draco answered patiently. “It’s the word for people without magic, like your parents and your sister. Mudblood isn’t an ugly…,” he hesitated. Mudblood was an ugly word, as Katie said, a slur. He knew it. And all the mess that had killed him was a consequence of that slur, of believing that people like Katie, Granger, or Finch-Fletchley were inferiors. But all his life he had thought like that. And look where it led you, a malicious voice said in his head. “Muggleborn, you’re a Muggleborn witch.”

“So why did you say that other word? It sounds bad.”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s just another word for what you are!” Liar. It was something in Katie’s look, on her way of eying him, that made him say the truth. “It’s a slur. If someone called you Mudblood, they’re insulting you, they’re implying that you’re less of a witch, of a person, as someone who comes from a magical family.”

“Why would someon— Why did you call me that then? I thought we were friends!” She looked at him with a hurt expression, as if they had been best friends since birth.

“Firstly, you and I aren’t friends. Secondly, I called you that because I don’t think you’re as valid as a pureblood,” he said.

It was the truth he thought like that, but for some reason it didn’t sound as real as it always had before. After all, he understood how stupid that was. That thinking had killed him and others. Granger was a wonderful witch. Snape, a half-blood, was a powerful wizard. Even Potter was powerful. And look at Longbottom or Weasley.

“I’m as valid as a cleanblood!” Katie shouted with a fierce look in her eyes.

“A pureblood.”

“I resurrected you! How is that not valid? My magic is as powerful and as important as yours! You nazi!”

Draco didn’t know what nazi meant, and he didn’t care. He was more worried about the part of his mind that was heartfully agreeing with Katie. Instead of apologising or analysing this new thought, he decided on kidding with her.

“Look at her, it’s only being a minute she knows she’s a witch and she’s already bragging about how powerful she is!”

“Because I am!” Katie stomped her foot on the floor.

Draco smirked at her and floated through the wall. He needed to think.

It had being two days since his discussion with Katie. Two days since his death. In those days he had thought about what had happened to him. He had cried for Vincent’s death, and for his own.

And he had reflected about his chat with Katie. She was a Mudblood, and she had the power to bring him back from the dead. It felt wrong to call a little girl something so horrible, to say to her that she wasn’t as valid as him. Was he valid? Granger’s screams while being tortured by Bellatrix came to his mind. What made Granger less than Bellatrix? Was Aunt Bella better than Granger, only because she had magical parents? He didn’t think so. No anymore. That feeling had been with him for years now, since the encounter with Dumbledore in the Tower, or maybe since before.

And that, the fall of his beliefs, of his world, had lost him. He didn’t know who he was anymore. His parents, the people he loved more in the world, were mistaken. There was nothing that made them better than Muggleborns or even Muggles. Were Mother and Father good people then? For him, they were; for the rest of the world, they were filthy Death Eaters that should be locked up or worse. And the same could be applied to him. A filthy Death Eater.

His musings led him without him realising to his home. He stared at the big iron gate that opened into the gardens. A place where he had been the happiest and the most miserable. He went to the gardens, remembering how he had played there, how his father had given him his first broom, how his mother had played with him while his father drank wine, laughing with them.

He went to the Manor, his heart (or what was left of it) in his throat, and he went through the door. He wasn’t ready for what he found. The furniture was under big white cloths, the big pictures weren’t on the walls anymore. Abandonment could be felt in the air. He went from room to room, looking for something that explained why his home didn’t look like a home anymore. He finally found his answer in his room.

It was the only room that was still intact. All was tidy and clean, as he had left it at the end of Easter before going back to Hogwarts. His parents sat on the green sofa, looking around them, their eyes rimmed of red. Draco approached them, and sat down on the floor, facing them. They must have been released from Azkaban. Maybe they bribed someone, Draco smirked to himself.

“What are we going to do with his things?” Lucius asked with a broken voice.

Narcissa sighed, as if answering her husband would cost her a big effort, and shook her head.

“We should… we should leave them here,” Lucius whispered. “Or we could bring them with us,” he added at seeing the hurt look his wife sent him.

“How did we lose him, Lucius?” Narcissa’s voice sounded old. Draco could hear the wrinkles it had now. “He was there. I saw him. I was about to shout his name, and then…”, her eyes filled with tears.

Draco wanted to hug her, to shout to them that he was there, listening to them. But as it had happened before, they couldn’t hear him, or feeling his touch on their arms.

Lucius shook his head, tears were falling down his face.

“It was my fault.”

“No.”

“Yes, Ciss. If I’d have brought him the prophecy… If I hadn’t have been such an idiot and believed his lies all those years ago… Draco would be alive.”

“We were fools. We thought the Dark Lord was going to resolve our problems. We thought that being Death Eaters would be great. It was both our faults. We killed our son.”

Draco was shouting at them. Begging them to not blame themselves for what had happened to him. He didn’t blame them. They had been wonderful parents. So what if they had thought the Dark Lord was great? He had thought that too!

Of course, they didn’t hear him.

“May I come in?” a voice said.

The three Malfoys turned to the door to see who was coming. It was Pansy. She, too, looked tired, and her eyes had lost that ferocity that Draco was used to seeing. Instead they were red and withdrawn.

“Pansy, dear, how are you?” Narcissa asked, as she stood to hug her.

The two women sat on the sofa again.

“Fine,” all of them could hear the lie. “I came to see if you need any help with the moving.”

They were moving! That explained the feeling of abandonment Draco had felt at entering the house, and the cloths on the furniture. Draco wished they would talk more about that, so he could know what his parents were planning.

“It’s not necessary. We’re almost done here,” Lucius said.

Both of them looked at Pansy with affection. They loved her as a daughter, and had wished that one day she became their daughter-in-law.

“Fine. I’ll… I’ll leave you alone.” She stood up and aimed for the door, then stopped. “I’m glad you’re no longer in Azkaban. I hope life is kind to you.” Her voice broke, knowing that life was a bitch that had been the most unkind to the Malfoys.

Narcissa smiled at her in thanks, and Pansy left.

Draco spent the rest of the day with his parents. Observing them and trying to communicate with them, but without success.

Night had fallen now, and Lucius and Narcissa had gone to bed. Draco was looking at them from the sofa in their bedroom. It was something he had done since he was a little child. When he couldn’t sleep because a nightmare was bothering him, he went to his parents bedroom, with a blanket and his plushy dragon, and made a bed on the sofa. Looking at them peacefully sleeping made him feel safe. His mother always insisted that he should wake them, but Draco knew that if he did that, Narcissa would send him to his bed, not knowing that her goodnight kiss wasn’t enough to keep the monsters at bay, and Lucius would tell him not to worry and sleep like the big boy he was, without realising that five year old Draco wasn’t a big boy at all.

He suspected they knew about his little camp on their sofa, but neither of them said anything. He had returned to do that (without the plushy!) for a few minutes each night when the Dark Lord had made their home his headquarters, to make sure they were alive and well.

He felt a pull. He muttered a thousand insults against little Muggleborn witches.

“What now?” He angrily asked Katie. “Can’t you go a few days without bothering me? I was busy!”

“I found something! I don’t know how I didn’t see it the first time, but…,” she stopped talking suddenly and closed her eyes half-way. “I don’t know your name.”

“You made me come here just to ask me my name?”

Katie glared at him. She had a thing for glares it seemed. Didn’t she know how to look at other people in a kinder way?

“Draco Malfoy,” he answered with a sigh.

“Draco Malfoy,” Katie said pronouncing carefully. “Really? What a weird name! Draco Malfoy. Draco. Malfoy. Dra-co. Malf..”

“What do you want!?” Draco really really missed his wand in moments like this. Silencing Spells were highly underrated.

“Oh, yeah!” A dreamy expression appeared on her face, and he feared she just had made him come to show him some stupid thing she had discovered she could do with her witchy powers. “You can resurrect!”

“What?” Draco didn’t dare to believe her words. If he still had a heart, it would be beating very fast.

“I found this passage in the book that I haven’t seen before. I don’t know why I haven’t seen it because I’ve read it for weeks, you know? So you’d think I’ve learned it by heart at this point, but—” she said hurriedly.

“TELL ME THE PART ABOUT THE RESURRECTION!”

“Oh, yeah, sorry! Here it is!” she put the book on her desk and looked expectantly at him, until she realised he couldn’t reach the book from the inside of the chalk circle. “You can leave!” and it was a proof of how real this was, that Katie said it in a normal voice, without magnanimous gestures.

Draco ran to the desk and read the paragraph Katie pointed to. It was brief, very brief, but as clear as crystal: it was possible to resurrect someone, fully resurrect them, if the dead person in question has been brought to a ghostly state as soon as their death; that is, Draco could be alive again. They only had to find the way to do it, something that Motheaten hadn’t bothered to add to her book.

“Don’t you have other book that explains how to do it? Or does she explain it in another chapter?” Draco asked, excitement painting his words.

“I couldn’t find anything in this book, but we can look on the other books we brought from my great-grandmother’s sister’s house!” Katie said as excited as he felt. “Come on!”

They went to the attic. Draco was half expecting to find a dark place, full of dust and cobwebs in the corners, but it was a nice room, with a few shelves containing old books, a red sofa on the right wall, and some boxes scattered on the floor. Next to one of the boxes was an old trunk.

Katie went straight to the trunk and started pulling out all the books she could find, reading the titles aloud and putting them on the floor next to her. Draco’s hopes vanished as soon as he saw what kind of books they were: school books. He saw Fantastic Beast And Where to Find Them, The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) and A History of Magic.

“I think we could start with A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration,” Katie said when she had picked the last book up. “A resurrection is a kind of Transfiguration, right?”

“You’re not going to find anything in there,” said Draco sad. “They’re school books for First Years. They’re useless.”

“All of them?” Katie whispered. “I’m sorry. I truly thought…”

Sadness and desperation were making their home at Draco’s mind, when he realised that Katie’s dead relatives weren’t the only ones who possessed books.

“I’ll go to the Hogwarts library!”

“Where?” Katie asked, confused.

“Hogwarts. The magical school.” He realised Katie didn’t know anything about that. “I’ll tell you everything about it later. Bye!”

And he left with triumph on his face.

Closed. Hogwarts doors were closed. Magically closed. So closed that even a ghost like him couldn’t enter the castle nor its grounds.

He spent the rest of the night and good part of the next day looking for a way to enter the castle. But it was impossible to go through its invisible barriers. He tried shouting for Myrtle or any of the ghosts, but either they couldn’t hear him as the living couldn’t or his shouts didn’t made their way to the castle. He tried the Shrieking Shack, the Forbidden Forest, even the lake, but nothing worked. Trying to Apparate inside the castle only caused him a headache.

His only hope when the sun was finally setting was that Hogwarts had to open again in September for the school year, and when the time came, Draco was going to be the first one to enter the school.

Resigned to spend the next four months alone or speaking only with an insufferable ten year old, he returned to London.

He couldn’t find Katie at her home, so he decided to explore the neighbourhood. Rows of identical houses expanded street after street in every direction. He didn’t like those little houses nor the constant noise of the cars, nor the people walking hurriedly beside him. He prefered the quiet of the Manor, its gardens, the woods that surrounded it, the big rooms full of interesting stories and ornaments.

He ended in a small park, just a few trees and some benches. On one of the benches he saw Katie.

“I couldn’t enter to Hogwarts. They must have put some kind of spell so nobody could enter. I can look for some books in September.”

Sniff.

“Are you listening to me, you annoying little shit?” He was upset, he couldn’t stand people ignoring him.

“Yes,” Katie whispered.

He opened his mouth to reply when he realised the girl was crying. Silent tears fell down her little face. Draco let out a dramatic sigh.

“What now?”

“Nothing.” she muttered followed by a very wet and snotty sniff.

Draco scrunched his nose.

“Listen, I have to be here until September, and you are the only person I can talk to and as disturbing as it is I prefer to talk to you than not talking at all, so, what’s wrong with you?”

“Some girls laughed at me.” She looked at him with a sad eyes. “They always laugh at me. They call me things.”

“What things?” he asked uninterested.

“Katie the Weirdo, Bitch Witch. They came here and asked if I was waiting for the full moon to pick some herbs for my potions.”

“Well, you are a witch, and using herbs for potions is something you’ll have to do. And you’re weird, I mean, what kind of girl resurrects people?”

“But they say all those things in a mean way!”

“So?”

“So it’s mean!” Katie shouted.

Some people looked at her. Seeing that only Katie could see Draco, she must appear as a crazy person talking with herself.

“Fortunately, shouting when you’re alone is not being a weirdo,” Draco smirked.

“Shut up,” the sad look have came back to Katie’s face. “Has anyone ever laughed at you?” she asked, begging him with her eyes to say yes.

Draco was about to answer that of course not, when he remembered all the times Potter had laughed at him with his sarcastic comments or that time they transfigured him into a slug. Talking about it was humiliating, but he didn’t have to tell everything to Katie.

“Yes, but instead of crying by myself in a park, I took revenge.” Not that it worked.

“What did you do?”

“Well, there’s this boy that attends Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchestry with me. I can’t stand him or his friends—”

“What’s his name?”

“Don’t interrupt me!” Draco snapped. Katie smiled brightly. “Potter. Harry Potter. He thinks he’s so special. His friends are the Weasel and the Mud…,” he side eyed Katie, who raised her eyebrows, and amended, “Granger. So Potter was a jerk to me on our first day at school. I asked him to be my friend and he refused in the rudest way you can imagine!”

“So he wasn’t worthy to be your friend, if he was rude to you!” Katie said with indignation.

A warm feeling expanded in Draco’s chest. Ha! Someone didn’t think Saint Potter was so great! Although you are part of Potter fan club, the malicious voice in his head said.

“But I didn’t know that at the time. So later in the school year, I dared him to a midnight duel, and the idiot accepted! But he didn’t know that I hadn’t any intention of going to where we had agreed on meeting, instead I told Filch, the caretaker, where Potter was going to be. Potter ended up in detention that night!” He laughed, imagining the scene.

Katie laughed with him, but then she furrowed her brows and he knew, without a doubt, that she was about to scold him for deceiving Potter.

“He deserved it!” he defended himself before the girl could say anything.

“But that was unfair!” she glared again at him.

“He. Deserved. It.”

“Did he do something else to you? I think you are not as nice as I thought,” Katie said carefully.

“What? I’m a very nice person.”

“You’re a bully. You didn’t take seriously the things those girls called me, you bullied your classmate, and you called me a Filthblood.”

“Mudblood.”

“Whatever. Don’t you see? You’re evil!”

“I’m not evil! Maybe I shouldn’t have called you that, but I’m new to using the nicer term. And maybe I shouldn’t laugh at you for what those girls said, but don’t you dare take Potter’s side!”

“That’s your form of apologising? You need to work on it.”

He glared at her and left. He wasn’t about to listen to a little girl teaching manners to him.

The rest of May and June passed in the same manner. Draco talked to Katie about Hogwarts, the classes, his friends and classmates. He had told her stories about Potter too. He also tried to teach her some spells. He didn’t acknowledge the war or his role in it. And he refused to answer any questions related to how he had died. In exchange, he learned a bit about Muggles, about their artifacts, traditions, and beliefs. His pureblood upbringing was suffering an important remodeling.

At night he went to the Manor where his parents still were. They closed some rooms, and had only left their room habitable, the little living room downstairs, and Draco’s bedroom. Apparently, they couldn’t leave the last place that linked them to their son. When he was there, he went to the library to see if he could find the spell to restore him in his body and life.

Draco visited his friends too, longing for being part of their lives again. Pansy was sad, but seemed happy enough again to start smiling. Gregory seemed fragil without Vincent, and lost without Draco’s guidance. Theo was as reserved as always. He missed all of them so much!

He was dying (figuratively!) to know what had happened to Potter, but as he didn’t know where he lived he couldn’t find him. Of course he could read The Prophet, but irrational butterflies occupied his stomach everytime he thought of doing that.

Every day he tried to gather his ectoplasme and had managed to pick up a book a few times by the end of May. He trusted that in September, he could read all the books at Hogwarts library and find a cure to his death.

It was the second week of July when Katie’s house was crowded with people. The Muggles were occupied cooking and putting balloons in every empty space.

“What the fuck is happening here?” Draco asked, from his place near Katie’s desk, where he was trying to grasp a pencil.

“What?” Katie was smiling more than what was normal in her, and kept doing little ridiculous dances.

“There’s a lot of people in the house, and your father has been cooking all day.” He grasped the pencil and smirked.

“It’s my birthday!”

“Oh! How wonderful!” he said feigning enthusiasm. “How old are you now? Seven?” The pencil escaped his fingers and landed on the floor. “Fuck!”

“Eleven! And if what you told me is true, I’ll receive my Hogwarts letter soon!” She danced to the door and left the room.

Draco went after her. It was the first time that something vaguely interesting happened in the last two months, so he’d better try and enjoy the party. Downstairs, he found Katie being hugged by an old woman, who kept kissing her in the cheek.

“¡Mi niña! ¡Cuánto tiempo sin verte! ¡Hay que ver cuánto has crecido!”

Draco left the woman squishing Katie and went to the living room, where various adults were talking and eating snacks, and a group of little children were playing seated on the floor. He approached the children and picked some small red cube they were playing with up. The children screamed and ran to their parents side. Draco smiled. He was getting very good at gathering his ectoplasme.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Did you see? I can pick things up without too much effort!”

Soon enough he could go to the library at the Manor and look for books and read them, or go to Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley and read their Death section and…

“You can’t do that!” Katie whispered loudly in his ear, startling him.

“Why not? It’s not my fault if those stupid children got scared.” He played with the toy, throwing it and catching it again.

“Those children are my cousins!”

“And?”

“¡Katie, la tarta!” Katie’s father called.

“I have to go!” Katie said with a happy smile and ran to the other room, where all the guests were.

Draco went after her wondering what the hell was happening. In the dining room he found all Katie’s family and Katie herself standing around a table. In the middle of the table stood a chocolate cake with eleven lit candles on it. While they sang the happy birthday song and Katie, closing her eyes, blew the candles, Draco was thinking about his own birthday.

It had been in June, more than a month ago, but he hadn’t allowed himself to think too much about it. He was dead, after all. If he were still alive, he would be eighteen. He’d have invited all his friends to the Manor. The gardens would have been lighted with pixie lights. They’d have a buffet with their favourite meals. The cake would have been baked by house-elves. It’d be a perfect cake, a delicate and delicious thing. Pansy would have drunk too much. Blaise would have bored all of them with a speech. Greg would have laughed at his jokes. Theo would have eaten half the buffet by himself. His mother would have insisted on taking pictures. His father would have given him some expensive gift with a proud smile. Draco would have been happy.

The thought of not having that ever again made him anxious. Suddenly, the happy faces of the Pérez family annoyed him. He went back to Katie’s bedroom.

Three or four hours later, the door was finally locked, the last guest had gone home, and the Pérez family were about to go to bed, when the doorbell rang. The exclamations of surprise didn’t match with what Draco expected from a guest that forgot their coat, so he went downstairs.

In the living room, he didn’t find little cousins and chatty relatives, but the four Pérez seated in the sofa, three of them looking astounded and the other one looking delighted, and seated on the armchair, a smiling Pomona Sprout.

“A witch?” Asked Mrs. Pérez.

“Yes, she will attend Hogwarts, where we’ll teach her to use her magic,” Professor Sprout said.

It was so weird seeing her in a Muggle living room. Draco wondered if she changed her clothes ever, because even now, her robe was dirty with earth, and her hat had little twigs in it.

“But… how can she be…? I mean, we’re normal, we aren’t magical…,” Mr. Pérez said. “And she hasn’t done anything…weird...”

“I have done magic before, papá!” Katie exclaimed. “A few months ago I dropped the biscuits tray, remember? But I wasn’t even touching it or wasn’t near it! It was magic!” She was bouncing on her seat.

“There are witches and wizards in Muggle families, that is, non-magical families,” Sprout explained. “I understand that it’s scary, knowing about a whole world all of a sudden. But this is a great opportunity for her.”

“And is this...magical world safe?” Mrs. Pérez asked.

Professor Sprout hesitated a second before answering. Enough for the Pérez to exchange a worried look.

“It’s safe now. This past year we had a war, but it ended on the 2nd of May.” Draco felt a sudden nervousness at hearing what he knew Sprout was about to tell: the war, the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord. Potter. Katie looked at him with interest. She had put two and two together and obtained the obvious conclusion: the day she had summoned him, was the same night of the end of the magical war. “There was a group of people that didn’t like Muggles nor Muggleborns. Their leader, we don’t say his name, was a powerful wizard, but luckily one of our students, Harry Potter, defeated him.” At hearing Potter’s name Katie looked at Draco again. He showed her his middle finger. “As I said before, it’s safe now, in fact, it’s safer than ever for Muggleborns.”

The conversation dragged for a couple of hours, with the Muggles asking questions and Sprout trying to reassure them that their little girl will be safe. To Draco’s disappointment, Sprout didn’t say anything else about Potter.

“So now that we have the money, where do we go?” Mrs. Pérez asked.

They were in Diagon Alley, surrounded by busy families buying school materials. It was a nice change from last year, when many shops closed their doors and dark wizards and witches sold questionable objects in the street. Now, the Alley was as it had always been, although Draco could see here and there some signs of the war.

Draco had gone with the Pérez family at Katie’s insistence. Plus, it gave him the chance to explore the bookshops there and in Knockturn Alley.

“What about the uniform? There’s a shop that sells clothes over there,” Mr. Pérez suggested.

The Pérez’ aimed for the shop and Draco was about to turn to Knockturn Alley when he saw four people entering Madam Malkin’s shop: two redheads, and two brunettes, one of them with very messy hair. He went into the shop, too.

When he entered he found Katie chatting happily with Granger while the both of them were viewing robes.

“... I only found out last night that I’m a witch,” she was saying. The little liar.

And there he was. Potter. Looking at the two girls and standing next to the window with the Weasleys. Potter with his messy hair, his bright green eyes, and his smile that had visited Draco in his dreams. He couldn’t help but stare at the other boy.

“If you need anything when we’re at Hogwarts, just ask, all right?” Granger said to Katie. “My name’s Hermione Granger.”

When we’re at Hogwarts...Was Granger coming back to the school? And Weasley and Potter too? Draco’s inexistent heart jumped with excitement. He could observe Potter and be with him every minute of the day! No, that doesn’t sound like stalking.

“Granger!?” Katie said excited. She stared at the other girl, and then looked from Potter to Draco. A small smile formed on her lips. “You must be Harry Potter, right?”

“Yes,” Potter seemed uncomfortable at having all of Katie’s attention on him.

Draco could relate.

“Do you know a boy called Dra…”

“SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE IDIOT!”

“...co Malfoy?” Katie asked with a brilliant smile and glancing triumphantly at Draco.

Draco really really hated being dead and ignored. He looked at Potter with interest nonetheless, wondering what he’d answer.

“I knew him,” he answered slowly, and to Draco’s surprise, a sad look crossed his features.

“How do you know about him? He died in the Battle of Hogwarts,” Weasley said.

“Oh, I just read about him somewhere!” Katie lied.

“You’re done!”

Katie hoped down the stool she was standing and left to the counter where her parents waited to pay. Draco went after her because continuing to looking at Potter only hurt and made his hopes of him liking him back go too high.

“So, you like him,” Katie said.

It was the night of their trip to Diagon Alley. Draco didn’t find anything useful in his visit to the shops in there and in Knockturn Alley. Now he was standing near Katie’s armoire, thinking about other places where he could look for a solution when she spoke.

“Like who?” Draco said, although he knew too well about whom she was talking.

Katie made herself more comfortable on the bed, where she was seated, and quirked an eyebrow in a good imitation of Draco.

“Harry Potter.”

“I don’t like him! He’s my nemesis. I’ve told you that!” He exclaimed, crossing his arms and scowling at her.

“You looked dreamily at him a lot. And sighed from time to time. And you blushed when he looked sad remembering your death. And…”

“I don’t like him!”

Oh, how he hated when she remind him of his death.

“Oh!” a look of comprehension appeared on Katie’s face. “Are wizard people homophobic?”

“What? No. There’s no problem with being gay or bi or whatever. I just don’t like Potter that way. Or any way.”

He knew that his defensive answers gave away his true feelings but he couldn’t help it. Besides, he wasn’t about to spill his feelings for Potter to an annoying little girl.

Draco had liked Potter for years now. As a child, he admired Potter, the hero of the wizarding world, but that admiration had gone away when Potter refused to be his friend. However, it had come back at seeing Potter’s determination, bravery, and beauty. It had started at the end of Fourth Year with a little crush that had grown and grown since then. The war put his feelings on trial but they survived, stronger than ever.

Although, now it was too late, because Draco was dead.

“Sure,” Katie said. He had forgotten she was there. “I think he likes you back,” she added, eying him.

“He doesn’t,” he said before he could stop himself. “He doesn’t like me, and with good reason.”

“Why? You’re handsome, and you’re nice from time to time,” she replied, her brow furrowed.

Draco shot her a glare. From time to time? How dare she?

“He was sad when I asked him about you. If he doesn’t like you, he wouldn’t have been sad, don’t you think?” she went on.

“Maybe, but…,” Draco sighed. It was time to confess to Katie what kind of person she had tried to resurrect. “I’m not good. We were on different sides of the war and…”

“You were on different sides?” she exclaimed. Draco glared at her again. Merlin, how he hated interruptions. “But then that means that you’re evil! Well, I should have suspected it, because you called me a Mudblood and said that I wasn’t as valid as Purebloods, but I thought it was just you being nasty to me! Have you called anyone else a Mudblood?” She said it all rapidly, and looked intently at him at the end of her speech.

“I’m… Yes.”

“Who?” she asked, her eyebrows forming a thick line.

“Granger, but…”

“Don’t you dare justify that! You’ll apologise to her as soon as you come back to life, alright?” She sounded so strict that Draco couldn’t help but think that McGonagall had a double in the little girl.

“Alright,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.

“Good!” she brightened. Sometimes it was terrifying how fast she could change her facial expressions. “And why weren’t you in the right side?”

“I was raised to believe that Muggles and Muggleborns were inferiors to Purebloods. I didn’t question it. And then… Then the war began. I was forced to join the dark side, although I should admit that part of me was proud of being chosen by the Dark Lord. But then I realised that I couldn’t do what he asked me to. He threatened my parents, he was going to kill them if I didn’t … I tried to help them, so he didn’t kill them, so the three of us could be alive at the end of the war. But instead I got myself killed.”

“You’re a bit of a mess telling stories, d’you know that?” she stopped and looked at him for a moment, then added, “I suppose I’d have done the same in your place.” He looked at her, surprised. “If someone threatened to kill my family, I’d do anything so they stayed alive and well. And I don’t question what my parents teach me either. Most of the time, anyway.”

“You think that because you’re only eleven. But do you think people are so easily forgiven? You’re mistaken.”

“I don’t think your Harry thinks like that.”

“He isn’t mine.”

“Yet. I’ll help you with him.”

Draco couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“Merlin! I’m receiving dating advice from a eleven year old? How low have I come?”

“You’ll see, by the end of the year, you two will be together.”

“If we’re not, you owe me ten chocolate frogs.”

“And if you are, you owe me an apology for doubting me.”

“Deal.”

In spite of the doubts he had about the situation, he felt better. Maybe he wasn’t such a disgusting human, if Katie could understand him. Maybe she was right and Potter liked him back. And forgetting that he was dead and had yet to find a method to resurrect, he floated happily in the streets of London imagining his life next to a certain green eyed, black haired boy.

Draco hummed to himself while he went down to the Hogwarts Express. He had decided to ride the train instead of just Apparating into Hogwarts, in case the castle was still protected. He wasn’t throwing his chances of resurrecting for something as stupid as time. Besides, maybe he’d see Potter.

Finally he arrived at the compartment he was looking for. The one just in the middle of the train. The one he had occupied in all his travels to Hogwarts. He went through the wall and found his friends at the other end. Pansy and Millicent were seated in front of Theo, Blaise, and Goyle. The five of them were silent and withdrawn. It was evident that two members of their gang were missing.

“This year is going to be… weird,” Theo said.

Pansy let out a hysterical giggle.

“Difficult, you mean,” she said. “Everybody hate us.”

“It’ll be fine,” Blaise said.

The rest of the compartment looked at him in bewilderment, Draco included.

“For you, yes, for the rest of us it’ll be hell.”

Draco left after Millicent’s words, because not being able to be with them, properly be with them, talking and joking, was something he couldn’t bear.

He wasn’t part of their world anymore. And that world was a world he suddenly feared for his friends. Because they were right. They had a terrible year ahead. He hadn’t been on the right side in the war, but he was dead, he was untouchable. But his friends… What would people say to Pansy, who tried to sell Potter to the Dark Lord? And to Goyle, who has been a Death Eater in everything but the dark mark? And Theo, whose father was a known member of the Dark Lord’s inner circle? All the happiness he had felt at entering the train had evaporated.

Once in the corridor, he decided to leave the pessimistic thoughts aside and to look for Potter; after all, no a year had gone without him bothering Potter in the journey to Hogwarts. Traditions were important.

He found him in one of the last compartments, surrounded by his friends. Potter and Ginny were facing Weasley and Granger, who were unashamedly cuddling. He made a face at the sight. And what was the she-Weasley doing there? Did her presence meant that she and Potter were dating again?

“I can’t believe we’re going back to Hogwarts!” Granger was saying.

“You’ve been talking about this all summer, and now you can’t believe it?” said Weasley, smirking.

Potter laughed. Draco smiled at the sound.

“I can’t wait to play quidditch,” she-Weasley said.

“Me neither, although I don’t have a broom,” Potter said quietly.

“I’ll lend you mine,” she-Weasley smiled at Potter.

Draco felt a urge to slap her, and when Potter returned the smile, he wanted to slap him too. How dare they flirt in front of him?

He stayed there for hours, staring at Potter, observing him in his natural habitat among his friends, and trying to figure out what kind of relationship existed between him and she-Weasley. When they were an hour or so away from arriving to Hogsmeade, he had decided that they weren’t dating, but feelings hadn’t gone away yet. He left when Granger announced she was going to change and the boys left to the bathroom.

He found Katie when they reached Hogwarts, who waved excitaly at him and ran after a group of tiny first years.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Of course, she went to Ravenclaw, the little necromancer. Draco had hoped that Katie followed his steps and ended in Slytherin, but her thirst of knowledge was bigger than her ambition.

The Great Hall looked so different since the last time Draco had been there. The tables were set with delicious foods. Happy students chatted among themselves, and even the professors looked calm and chatty. Although Draco didn’t like not seeing Snape there or the gaps in the house tables where the dead students were missing. He didn’t dare to look too closely at the Slytherin table.

While all the school was occupied with dinner, he went to the library. He was just passed the second floor when someone let out a very loud screech.

“DRACO! YOU CAME BACK!”

Shit. So ghosts could see him. He turned around slowly, and finally faced the long dead girl.

“Myrtle.”

“I can’t believe you came back!” she made a gesture as if she wanted to grab his arm. “Come on, let’s go to my bathroom. You can share my U-bend, if you want!”

“I’d love to, but I have something important to do, sorry,” he tried to walk away, but she followed him.

“What? You’re like me now, so we can be together forever,” a mad expression was appearing on her face.

Why was it that he always got stuck with annoying girls? Fear at spending the rest of eternity in a U-bend with Myrtle clenched Draco’s chest. He better find the death reversal ritual soon.

“Really, Myrtle, I have to go.”

“But we’re friends. Or do you not remember your sixth year when we spent hours together?”

Her eyes were watering and that was never a good sign. Soon enough she would be crying loudly. Draco forced a smile and with the promise of visiting later that night, he ran to the library.

It was two in the morning when he returned, tired of reading nonsense about death and life. As promised, he went to Myrtle’s bathroom. He confessed her his plans, but that only served to upset her; she went down the toilet moaning loudly.

Draco spent the next months in the library, looking for the cure he needed so badly. But in the mornings, he attended classes with his old classmates. He always found a place near Potter, so he could hear him and look at him. Sometimes, he went to the Slytherin common room to visit his friends and made sure they were alright. And, of course, he talked to Katie about all the things he read, saw, and heard.

It was the first week of November when he, frustrated, left the library and went to the Astronomy Tower. He hadn’t visited that place since the night Dumbledore died, but he needed to breathe and the tall tower was always a good option for air and space. However, there was another person when he arrived.

Potter was seated on the floor, playing with his wand. This was the first time the two of them were alone, as in all other occasions Granger and Weasley had been there when Draco was following Potter around. He placed himself on the floor next to Potter, almost touching him.

“I hadn’t realised how difficult this year was going to be, you know?” Potter said. Draco looked around, thinking that they were not alone after all, but it seemed that Potter was talking to himself. Maybe he had gone crazy after the war. “And I miss you,” he let out a quick laugh. “Isn’t it stupid? I’ve spent years hating you, and now that you’re dead, I miss you.” He kept in silence a few minutes, then continued. “Draco. Can I call you Draco?” Draco nodded without thinking. Potter missed him? He wasn’t crazy after all, but talking to Draco. And he missed him! He was going to apologise to Katie for doubting her. “I hated you, but in Sixth Year… at the end of Sixth Year..., I realised that you were only scared about everything that was happening. I’m not naive enough to not know you took the mark willingly, and that you think muggleborns are nothing, but… I know you can be brave and kind too. You didn’t sell us to Bellatrix. I’ll never forget that. And you risked your life to save Goyle’s. You’re brave, and noble, and intelligent, and cunning, and handsome…” Potter finished with a blush.

Draco stared at him, not daring to believe his ears. It was too good to be true. It was too beautiful. And it was too painful, because Draco knew that he wasn’t any of those things; brave, noble, kind, cunning, intelligent, handsome. Well, he wasn’t ugly, that was true. But if he were so intelligent, he wouldn’t have taken the mark. If he was so cunning, all his plans would have worked. And he was too scared about having the Dark Lord in his house to sell out Potter and his friends! And of course he wasn’t about to let Goyle die in there! He wasn’t a monster! He was...

“I think…,” Potter was speaking again and Draco forced himself to listen. “I think I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, although Potter couldn't hear him.

He gathered his ectoplasme and touched Potter’s hand lightly. Potter looked at his hand and shivered. He got up, straightened himself, and muttered a quiet “Bye, Draco.”

Draco stared after him, a mix of sadness and happiness fighting for the control of his feelings. Happiness won, and he fled to Ravenclaw Tower because he needed to talk to someone. Although that someone was eleven years old and the most annoying witch alive (after Granger).

“KATIE!” he shouted as soon as he stomped in the first year dormitories.

A sleepy witch bolted up from her bed, jumped and ended in the floor tangled in sheets and blankets.

“What do you want?” she asked, yawning.

“HE LOVES ME!” He was so happy that he couldn’t keep his voice low and his ectoplasme was floating several meters from the floor.

“Who?” Another yawn.

“FILCH! WHO DO YOU THINK, YOU IDIOT? POTTER!”

“Can you stop shouting?” She asked from her nest on the floor.

“NO! HE LOVES ME! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME!” He knew he was acting like and idiot, but he couldn’t help it. His dream was coming true.

“I’m happy for you. Now I’m going to sleep. Good night!” She arranged the blankets around her and lied down, ready to sleep. Honestly, Ravenclaws were the weirdest people on Earth!

“I think I can talk to him,” he muttered, descending to the floor.

Katie’s attention perked up.

“How? I thought you couldn’t talk to anyone but me.”

“Jealous?” he smirked. “I can’t talk to him, but I could write him something, so he knows I’m here and that I lov—”

“I don’t think that’s very wise.”

“Don’t interrupt me!” he snapped.

“No, listen. He could have a heart attack, if he is suddenly receiving letters from you. I do—”

“I’ll explain everything to hi—”

“He’ll think is a joke.”

“He’ll help me find the ritual.”

“He won’t like it, because this is dark magic!”

“This is dark magic?” Draco looked confused at Katie.

“We’re playing with life and death, of course this is dark magic!” she said it in that exasperated tone that remind him of Granger. Were all muggleborn witches the same?

“Yes, of course it’s dark magic. I’m not an idiot,” he sneered. He could have argued at that point that Potter wasn’t a saint either, that he had used dark magic too, but he didn’t dared now that Potter thought of him as someone noble and kind. “Well, go to sleep. I can’t waste my time here, I have things to attend.”

He went back to the Astronomy Tower to mope in peace.

Draco returned to the Tower every night since the encounter Some days he was lucky to find Potter there. Draco sat on the floor next to him, listening to Potter talk about his life in Hogwarts, about his nightmares about the war, about the guilt that plagued him since the night Sirius had died, about how he had kept Draco’s wand (that had half delighted, half annoyed Draco), about his feelings for Draco (that had totally delighted Draco).

Although Draco didn’t dare to communicate with him in any way, he dared to caressed him, lightly enough so Potter thought it was the breeze, and once even kissed him on the cheek. Potter had looked around in wonderment that time, but surely didn’t suspect what had happened.

After his one-side conversations with Potter, he went to the library, and it was exactly a week after that kiss that he found what he was looking for. It was in the Restricted Section, in one of the lower shelves. The book looked like nothing special, just a dark red cover and yellowish pages. He opened it haphazardly and a passage caught his attention: to resurrect the dead after bringing them back as spirits… That was him! He read the full passage and his sudden happiness left his spirit as it had come:

In order to resurrect the dead after bringing them back as spirits, you should do the same ritual you did to bring them back, but you must do a sacrifice: someone the dead loves must sacrifice their life so the dead can come back (1).

Someone the dead, Draco, loved must die so he could live? Then it wasn’t worth it. He’d ask Katie to break the spell, so he could follow his path to Beyond. He threw the book in rage and sadness and ran to the Astronomy Tower. It was empty.

All his hopes had gone away in a heartbeat. He wished he could still cry to let out all the pain, the disappointment and anguish that were torturing him. For months he had put all his efforts in finding a way of resurrecting, of having his life back. He hadn’t allowed himself to think too much about his death, the only thing that had mattered to him was that there was a cure, a return path. But it wasn’t there anymore. When the sun started to rise, he went back to the castle searching for Katie.

However, he didn’t tell her anything; in fact, he didn’t look for her because leaving behind the world, his family, his friends, all he had ever known, scared him.

He spent his days in silence thinking about how much he had lost in an instant. It was as painful as dying a second time. Maybe he should ask Myrtle to share her U-bend, after all.

More than once, he surprised himself thinking about whose life he’d sacrifice, but it always resulted in Potter dead in a hundred different ways and a pain and a guilt too heavy to endure in Draco’s spirit.

He read the passage every night. One time and another and another. But its meaning didn’t change: if he wanted to live, Potter, his parents, or his friends must die.

And it was there where Katie found him one freezing night if December. He was seated on the floor holding the book and rereading the paragraph. He didn’t need light to read thanks to his ghostly eyes, so the sudden hesitant light of a candle behind him, startled him. He turned around and saw Katie in her fluffy pajamas and holding a candle.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I was looking for you,” she put the candle on the floor and sat in front of Draco. “I’m worried about you, you know?”

“What for?” he whispered without looking at her.

“You’re acting weird. You don’t talk to me and I haven’t seen you stalking your boyfriend lately.”

“I don’t stalk him. I… follow him.”

“Sure. So. What’s wrong?”

“I…”, he sighed. He didn’t want to have that conversation. He didn’t want to see the pity in Katie’s eyes. He didn’t want to lose the last hope that anchored him to the living world. But not sharing his fears was killing him inside. “I found what we needed, but… here, read.” He pushed the book towards Katie.

Katie picked it up and read aloud, “In order to resurrect the dead after bringing them back as spirits, you should do the same ritual you did to bring them back, but you must do a sacrifice: someone the dead loves must sacrifice their life so the dead can come back. One.”

“One?”

“There’s a footnote here. Have you read it? Maybe it shows an alternative way of doing it! Let’s see…Here! Athena Owl has demonstrated in her work Dead Alive that the sacrifice isn’t necessary a death.”

Draco stared at Katie. He had seen that little number at the end of the sentence, but had discarded it as a silly footnote about the source the author had consulted. He didn’t bother to read it.

“So we don’t have to kill anyone,” Draco whispered to himself.

“Were you thinking about killing someone? And why did you say we instead of I?” she said in agitation.

“No! I was just… you know, talking without thinking. And you’d help me kill someone.” Now that he had an alternative, he felt much better. Maybe he still could resurrect and spend the rest of his life with Potter.

“I’d never!”

“So, what do you think that means?” he asked. “A sacrifice can be the sacrifice of an arm, a leg, a hair, some object...”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll find a better explanation on that book, Dead Alive.”

They spent the next few hours looking for Owl’s book, but didn’t find it. For what they found in the library register, the book wasn’t in there and wasn’t being published anymore. At the end, Katie went to sleep and Draco went to the Astronomy Tower to daydream about his future.

The next morning, Draco was walking down one of the corridors looking for Potter, when he found Katie outside the Charms classroom. That didn’t give him good vibes, because he knew the girl had Herbology at that hour and that the year with Professor Flitwick was Potter’s.

“Hi, Draco!” she greeted, and smiled brightly at him.

He only had time to furrowed his brow as the loud screech of the ring provoked a multitude of students filling the corridor. Before he realised what was happening, he saw Katie running after Granger, Weasley, and Potter. He ran after them.

“Hey! Hermione! Hey!”

“Oh, Katie! Sorry, I didn’t hear you. How are you?” Granger asked.

Potter and Weasley had stopped as well. The five of them were the only students in the corridor now.

“Hi!” Katie said. “I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind. It’s about magical sacrifices.”

Draco swore to himself. He knew nothing good was coming out of this. He decided to intervene before Katie messed up.

“Katie, listen to me,” when he was sure he had Katie’s attention, he went on. “I’m going to tell you exactly what you have to say, understood? So you only tell Granger what I say.”

Katie looked at him and nodded. The Golden Trio looked at Katie as if she was going crazy.

“Okay. Say: Hermione, I want to know…”

“Hermione, I want to know…”

“...something about sacrifices.”

“I already told her that.”

“Just say what I say, you idiot!”

“Okay” suffering sigh. “ I want to know something about sacrifices.”

Granger, Potter and Weasley were looking worried now. Maybe they thought Katie was possessed.

“What do you want to know, Katie?” Granger asked in the kind of voice reserved for dying people.

“If the sacrifice of something that isn’t someone’s life can be an object or if it has to be a body part, like in Polyjuice Potion.” Draco dictated.

“What’s Polyjuice Potion?”

“ASK WHAT I’M TELLING YOU, YOU LITTLE MUDBLOOD!”

“Katie…” Granger started.

“Don’t call me that!” Katie shouted.

“Isn’t it your name?” A very confused Weasley asked.

Draco let out a sigh. He knew this was going to be a mess the moment he saw Katie. Why couldn’t she just repeat his words? It wasn’t a hard task!

“Yes, it’s my name. Sorry.” Katie glared at Draco. “So. My question. Yes. If I’d want to sacrifice someone’s something for...say...some weird ritual… I’d have to use some body part or just an object that that person loves...say…” she looked around for inspiration and stopped on Potter’s face. “...his glasses?”

For the first time since he was a ghost, Draco was glad nobody could hear him, because he was muttering a thousand very imaginative insults against obvious witches.

“Ummm, I don’t think so. I think that for that kind of rituals you need a part of the person, like a nail or a hair,” Granger answered. She looked very worried, and Potter and Weasley were portraying worried expressions as well. No doubt they were thinking Katie was playing with dark arts. Knowing the paranoid trio, they probably thought she was going to be the next Dark Lady. “Why do you need this?”

“Oh, you know, just… hypothetical situations,” she shrugged.

“That’s what Voldemort said to Slughorn, and there wasn’t anything hypothetical about his questions,” Potter said, looking intently at Katie.

Katie opened her mouth to answer, but Draco gathered his ectoplasme and dragged her along the corridor before she could mess it up even more.

In an empty classroom, they plotted their next move: the robbery of Potter’s hairs.

It had been easy. Draco had approached Potter from behind with scissors and had cut a few hairs. Then, for good measure, he had cut out another few. Potter had looked a bit confused at that, but fortunately Missers Norris was meowing near him, distracting him enough so Draco could make his escape without the other boy noticing some scissors and hairs floating down the corridor.

Draco and Katie were standing in an empty classroom with all the things ready for the ritual. The only problem was that Draco wasn’t sure about this anymore.

“What if Potter isn’t the right loved one? I love my parents too, and my friends. How do we know that I love Potter enough for his hairs to make me come back? After all, we’re following Granger’s words here, and she doesn’t have a clue about this. How do we know this is going to work?” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the chalk circle he was standing in.

“I don’t think this is about the amount of love, but about love in general.” Katie was making sure all was ready for the ritual, moving the candles millimetres to the right or to the left.

“Ah, but about what kind of love is this? It didn’t say it has to be romantic love. It could be fraternal love, friends-love…”

“Stop panicking! It’s going to work!” She straightened up and glared at him.

“But what if I come back to my body as it is now, all rot?”

“If that’s the case, I think you’ll die as soon as you come back. I’m going to start now. Shut up.”

And he shut up while Katie said the incantation. With each word she pronounced, he felt heavier, better. He felt how he recovered something he hadn’t realised he was missing. He felt the noises his organs did; he felt his heart pounding wonderfully in his chest; he felt how the air filled his lungs. He felt alive.

When the words of the spell died, he looked at his hands, expecting to see something different, but they had looked solid when he was a ghost. He breathed and check with satisfaction how his chest expanded. Suddenly, a pair of arms were wrapping him tightly around the middle and his satisfaction went away replaced with annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you,” Katie said, with her arms still around him. “I’m so happy you’re alive again! And look! You’re not a rotting corpse!”

“Yes…” He pulled away and examined his body, relishing in the pleasure of being alive.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

He was approaching the door. He needed to talk to Potter, to his friends and to his parents and to recover his wand.

“What?” He looked around, confused.

Katie glared once more at him.

“Seriously? Can’t you think about anything you need to say?”

“Er...no?” He looked around again, looking for something he had forgotten about, but he found nothing.

“I just resurrected you and you can’t think of anything you must say to me?”

“Ah! You mean…thank you?” he asked rolling his eyes.

“Yes! Of course, I mean that!”

He was about to reply with some snarky comment when he stopped himself. He really should thank her.

“Thank you, Katie,” he said, serious. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead now. And thank you for being with me all these months. And I’m sorry for calling you a mud… you know what, the other day.”

“You’re welcome and you’re forgiven! Now, don’t you need to find your boyfriend?” she asked with a bright smile.

He smiled as brightly and nodded.

The grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow that shone in the dark night. The stars and constellations were easily located in the sky. The freezing winter air filled his lungs and turned his nose and cheeks a bright red. But he didn’t care.

It had been two weeks since his resurrection. Two weeks of tears, happiness, healers visits, hugs, family, friends and a long stay at home. He had finally came back to Hogwarts to finish the year with his classmates. The common room was nice, but after a while it became too overwhelming, and although he enjoyed being the centre of attention, he was getting tired of talking about his life as a ghost. He came to the Astronomy Tower in search of some space.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were here,” a voice said from behind him.

He turned and saw Potter standing in the doorframe. A wild happiness filled his chest.

“Hi!” he said with a smile.

“Hi,” Potter’s smile was as wide as his. “I… I have your wand.”

Draco took his wand from Potter’s hand, relishing in the magic running from his veins.

“Thank you.”

“Malfoy, I…”

“Yes?” He couldn’t stop smiling.

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Me too.”

Without asking, he stepped towards Potters and caressed his hand as he had done a dozen times in that same tower. Potter looked surprised, but understanding was showing in his eyes. Draco looked at him, at the eyes he had stared at a hundred times in the last few months. The green eyes looked at him.

“I like you,” he said.

Potter closed the gap between them. The kiss was everything he had dreamed about.

Holding Harry’s hand contemplating the snowy grounds, Draco thought that he owed Katie an apology: the year was ending and Harry Potter was his boyfriend.