Chosen || Draco Malfoy

17 - The Rocket

"Harry?!"

"The one and only." Harry grinned, wiggling his glasses up and down on his nose.

"But- but you're dead!"

"Yeah, true," he sighed heavily, "but it seems that my work here is not yet done."

"What the fuck do you mean?" I hissed quietly so as not to wake my dorm mates, pulling the bedclothes securely up to my chin. He may be dead but that didn't mean he could get to perv at my tits.

"Well," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess until Voldemort is dead, I'm here to haunt you."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Can't you just go and haunt Ron or someone?" I asked, resisting the urge to roll over and shove my head under the pillow.

"Already tried, but no can do. I even tried Neville, then Hermione then Fred and George and then Ginny. When that failed, I went to Dumbledore. Yet it seems that no one can see or hear me."

"I can! More's the fucking pity."

"Hey," he said, looking hurt. "I thought we were friends!"

Ugh.

"Look Harry, as much as I appreciate being the eighth person on your list, I'm kind of tired here and can feel a pimple brewing beneath my chin, so please let me go back to sleep so that I can wake up and discover that this was all a result of me eating too much cheese before bedtime."

Hurt once again flickered across his face. "I'm not a nightmare, Cece."

That was certainly debatable.

"Night Harry," I mumbled as I turned over and closed my eyes.

When I woke up a few hours later, he was gone.

*****

"She was talking in her sleep again. I heard her say his name."

"That's the guilt. I read about it in a magazine once. She's making herself believe that Harry's alive to cope with the fact that she's killed him."

I flung open the drapes around my bed, scowling as Hannah and Susan jumped guiltily apart. Both of them turned a deep shade of red before quickly scurrying out of the dormitory as though they hadn't just been furtively whispering about me behind my back.

Tossing my head in the air, I went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, smiling at Hermione and Ron as I walked past the Gryffindor table to get to the Hufflepuffs.

My heart sank as I sat down and literally everyone within five feet moved away, not being able to scramble up the table fast enough. I was strongly reminded of the tiny fish in the aquarium that would hurriedly swim away in swarms whenever you touched your finger to the window of the tank.

Sighing heavily, I started plating up with bacon and sausages despite not being in the remotest bit hungry.

Had I really seen Harry last night or was Hannah right? Had I just imagined it due to all the stress and craziness I had endured? I didn't know what to think, what to feel. Nothing seemed real to me anymore.

When no one was looking, I quickly hid my fork under the table and stabbed my thigh as hard as I could.

I didn't even flinch, even when I felt the prongs pierce my skin and blood began to trickle, soaking into my robes.

"You alright, Cece? You look white as a ghost. You're gonna give the Bloody Baron a complex if you're not careful."

I jumped, looking up startled. Fred and George Weasley were grinning as they approached, each of them taking a seat either side of me.

I guiltily removed the fork from my leg and placed it on the table, hoping they'd mistake the blood for ketchup. I stared at it morosely, not understanding why I was unable to inflict pain on myself.

"Don't mind us," Fred chortled as he began to help himself to scrambled egg. "We thought you looked as though you could do with the company."

"Besides," George added, topping up my glass with pumpkin juice. "Hermione was doing our head in. Did we know there are sixty-three different ways to break the rules at breakfast time? No. Do we give a tiny little rat's ass? No."

"So, we looked around in search of someone who could indulge us in a spot of tantalising conversation." Fred winked. "And that's when we saw you sit down."

A smile tugged at my lips, ridiculously grateful to Fred and George for sparing me the humiliation of admitting that they felt sorry for me.

"Thanks guys," I murmured, clinking my glass against Georges' as I picked it up. "But I'm afraid conversation is probably not my forte today. I didn't sleep well."

"Never mind," George shrugged, "you can just admire our good looks instead while we do all the talking."

"And it so happens," Fred said lowering his voice as he leaned towards me in a conspiratorial manner, "that we have a few ideas we want to bounce off you."

"Oh?" I said, raising my eyebrows, intrigued by where they were going with this.

"And we know how good you are at bouncing," George snickered evilly as he glanced over at the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was sat chatting animatedly to those two goons.

"Ah!" Fred sighed wistfully. "And what a beautiful ferret he made."

As though sensing the three of us staring, Draco looked up, immediately scowling as his face tinged an angry pink. Fred and George both waved, giving him their brightest smiles, and I had to look away as a helpless smirk pulled at my lips.

"Man, I love winding that dude up." George chortled to himself as he took a huge bite of toast.

"Too easy." Fred agreed as we heard Draco furiously muttering something about his father.

I continued to quietly eat my breakfast whilst the twins shared with me their new inventions for their business, one that was up and running thanks to my Triwizard winnings.

"We'll pay you back, of course," Fred assured me. "Once we start raking in the millions."

"I don't want any of it," I insisted, feeling that horrific twist in my stomach again. "It should have been Harry's. Not mine."

"Let's be honest, Harold would have only gone and wasted it on a new broom to rival Malfoy's." George shrugged. "I mean, who needs a penis enhancer when can afford a literal rocket?"

I blinked, not sure I had heard right. "Are you saying that Harry had a... a small... you know?"

"Doesn't matter now, I suppose," Fred said sadly, shaking his head. "Poor fella never got the chance to use it."

Oh. That was sad.

"Do you think ghosts can have sex?" I asked, causing George to spit pumpkin juice all over the table.

"Why? You're not thinking of asking Peeves for a quick bunk up, are you?" Fred chuckled. "Although he'd be good for a laugh. Imagine the pillow talk."

Peeves... The Bloody Baron... Fuck, why was I so slow? Of course it was possible that Harry could come back. The sodding castle was full of ghosts!

"Where are you going?" George called after me as I leapt up from my seat and began to hurry away.

"To see if I can find myself a ghost!" I called back, not caring how crazy I sounded.

Because if Harry was somehow stuck in the in between, then I needed to find him and help him. Fast.

******