The Valley of the Shadow of Death

Why me? asked Draco for the 700,000^th time that week, as he raced to the dungeon-floor restroom before Potions.

Things had not gotten better in the five days since the semester had started. While he was feeling better in general, to the point where he could occasionally bring himself to eat, and sometimes the food actually stayed down, he was still suffering from occasional bouts of nausea, which would force him to stop whatever he was doing at the time and race to the bathroom. Somehow, he seemed to have succeeded in hiding his illness from the general student population, but he wasn't sure how long that was going to last.

The odd thing was, he'd been down to one potion (the clear drops) since the semester started, and two days into the semester, he'd stopped taking that one. That was three days ago, and he was still feeling sick. The illness must not have been the potions' fault after all.

He considered going to Madame Pomfrey, but two things stopped him from doing so.

First, there was the simple fact that no male student with any pride ever went to Madame Pomfrey with an illness that couldn't be blamed on another student. Not voluntarily, not until he was given no other choice. Going to Madame Pomfrey was tantamount to announcing to the entire school that, 'Yes! I am a weakling!'

And second, there was always the possibility that Madame Pomfrey might be able to find out that he was a Medium.

Draco no longer had any doubts about his being a Medium. The ghosts seemed to be everywhere. Here at Hogwarts, there were mostly ghosts of children, although there were a few adults in the mix. In the last week alone, Draco must have seen almost 100 new ghosts, none of whom anybody else seemed to see. Some were talkative (talking to themselves, of course - they couldn't even talk to each other), some were morose, some were simply there. So far, none of them seemed to have caught on that Draco could see them, but it took all of Draco's concentration to keep up that pretence whenever one of them was around.

Preventing anybody from discovering that he was a Medium had jumped overnight to the top of Draco's priority list. The thought of what would happen if anybody found out...

If a living person found out, it would be all over the school by the next day, that "Draco Malfoy is a freak." And the news would take approximately 24 hours to get back to his father, and Voldemort, both of whom would probably want to know exactly why Draco didn't report the news in the first place...

And if a ghost found out, things wouldn't be much better. The ghost would probably latch onto him like a leech, never giving him a moment's peace, talking to him in public... he'd probably not be able to prevent himself from talking back sometimes, and then people would wonder why he was talking to himself, and then they would probably find out...

So Draco went from class to class, concentrating on ignoring any ghosts he saw, and on hiding any nausea he might be feeling as best he could. It was truly exhausting, his teachers were already starting to comment on his lack of attention in class, and Draco was beginning to have serious doubts about just how long he could keep this up.

Right now, for example, as he retched into the toilet and heard the boy's restroom door open and somebody come in, he was certain he wasn't going to keep this up another minute.

Footsteps made their way to the adjoining stall, then stopped when Draco coughed again. "Are you ok in there?" asked a familiar voice from the other side of the stall door.

200 male students in this school. Of course, HE would be the one to come into the bathroom just now. Draco said nothing, breathing heavily in front of the toilet to control a new wave of nausea.

"Er, hi... are you - "

"I'm just fine, Potter. Thanks for stopping by. Sod off now, will you?" He briefly had the pleasure of hearing Potter mutter something that sounded like 'Malfoy' under his breath outside the stall, before he heard the sounds of footsteps exiting the room. Then Draco had to go and spoil it by retching again. The footsteps stopped.

"Should I get Madame Pomfrey?" asked Potter, sounding extremely reluctant.

No, Potter, trust me... the last thing I need right now is for you to do me any favors. Aloud, he sighed and said, "What part of 'sod off' did you not understand?"

Without missing a beat, Potter returned, "The part about whether I should then get Madame Pomfrey."

Draco chuckled, mildly impressed at the quick rejoinder in spite of himself. "No, Potter, don't get Madame Pomfrey. I'll be fine in a minute." Any other response would have sounded petulant in this situation, and Draco avoided sounding petulant in front of Potter whenever possible. Don't press it, Potter... don't press it...

There was a brief pause at the other end of the stall door, then, "Fine, have it your way." And then he was gone. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

Five minutes later, he walked into Potions seconds before the bell, and noted with some surprise that Potter seemed to be ignoring him. Granger and Weasley were not, but neither did they seem to be whispering about him behind his back, so he could only assume that Potter hadn't told them. Yet, at least.

The female ghost from the first day was back, pacing in front of the wall, apparently in a very bad mood. Draco groaned inwardly. Of course, just what he needed - distractions in Potions. In front of Potter and gang. Not to mention, Professor Snape so loved it when his students didn't pay attention in his class...

Maybe she'll get bored and go away, he thought hopefully. Then he chuckled to himself. That's right, Draco. When in doubt, delude yourself.

Snape swept in a moment later. "Today, we will be making Freezing Drafts," he immediately snapped, "which can be fatal if spilled on flesh, so if everybody would keep an eye on Longbottom's cauldron - I would hate to have to explain to your parents that you all died due to his ineptitude..."

20 seconds. A new record, Draco noted in mild amusement. Normally, a good ten minutes went by before Snape started on the near-Squib. He must be in an unusually bad mood today. Draco was going to have to pay extra attention to class work; when Snape was in a bad mood, anybody was fair game.

Unfortunately, concentration just didn't seem to be coming easily to him today. Wonder why... he mused sarcastically, as the ghost suddenly, angrily, turned on Snape and proceeded to tell him off - the fact that Snape obviously couldn't see or hear her apparently not deterring her in the slightest.

"Severus," she sighed. "I so wish I could talk to you - if only just to ask, why do you teach when you hate it so much?" Then, almost without any warning, she exploded. "You know, the Ministry could probably use Potions Masters of your caliber, and then you could make potions to your heart's delight, and you'd never, ever have to deal with people ever again! You'd be a hell of a lot happier... and Neville would have a teacher who doesn't scare the living hell out of him! How is Neville supposed to learn under these circumstances? Nobody can learn under these circumstances, Severus! You are actually damaging his chances of learning!"

She continued in this vein for some time. Meanwhile, Snape continued talking, oblivious to the fact that there was an irate ghost yelling at him, and Draco desperately tried to hear the instructions Snape was giving over the yelling of the ghost. He was sure he'd missed half of what he needed to hear. He covered for this by keeping an eye on what Granger was doing, surreptitiously copying her actions, frantically hoping nobody would notice that he was a) not listening to Snape because he was distracted by something nobody else could see or hear, and b) copying a Mudblood Gryffindor's work.

"...because a little patience can go a long way in teaching, you know..." She didn't seem to notice that Snape had long since stopped insulting Longbottom, and was now giving instructions to the class.

"...Now pick exactly six yeti hairs - Potter, what are you doing?" Snape snapped.

"He's picking six yeti hairs, Severus!" the ghost practically screamed. "Exactly what you told him to - " She cut herself off suddenly, took a deep breath (or at least appeared to), closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly. "I am calm..." she unexpectedly proclaimed to nobody, standing stiffly and flexing her hands, appearing anything but calm.

Draco choked back a snort. Then he hastily looked away from the ghost and returned his attention to his ingredients, panicking at the realization that he'd just come so very close to giving himself away. But thankfully, nobody had seemed to notice. Everybody was too busy watching the latest Potter-Snape confrontation. It really was quite disgusting, how everybody thought Potter was the only person in the world...

"Picking six yeti hairs, Professor," Potter had said during the ghost's outburst, sounding annoyed and resigned. Anybody would think, listening to him, that he wasn't enjoying the attention. What a fake... Draco was tempted to watch, but the ghost had been standing right in front of Potter, and he couldn't trust himself to not stare at her... again.

"From the ends?" Snape asked angrily, advancing on Potter.

"...I am calm," the ghost repeated. "I will not get upset. I will not get upset..."

"Deliberately trying to cause an explosion by splitting yeti hairs, Potter? Typical, to have so little consideration for the lives of others..."

"SEVERUS!" the ghost shrieked, her earlier calm forgotten. Draco jumped and stumbled in surprise. A couple people, including (to his horror) Snape, Potter, and the ghost, turned to look at him strangely, and Draco panicked and did the first thing he could think of - he smirked at Potter, trying to pretend that for some strange reason he'd deliberately jumped and nearly fallen over.

Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! He yelled at himself, still smirking at Potter.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Snape quietly, looking faintly puzzled, "are you quite all right?"

No. "Yes, Professor," he said with a calm he didn't feel.

"I see. In that case, please do try to not disrupt my class again..." A warning. Oh yes, Snape was definitely in a very bad mood, if he was threatening his own house.

"Yes, sir," Draco responded automatically, and Snape returned to snapping instructions to the class. Draco smirked once more to Potter for good measure, before returning to his own work, and noted with satisfaction that Potter seemed very slightly nervous. If he was lucky, Potter would end up concluding that Draco was plotting something and the jump and stumble had all been part of the plan.

He avoided looking up for the rest of the class. The ghost had fallen silent, and Draco could feel her staring at him. He kept his eyes on his work, frantically hoping that if he didn't make eye contact, then she wouldn't realize he could see her. As soon as the bell rang, he shot out the door, anxious to be alone.

He headed to his usual hiding place - an abandoned classroom in one of the isolated dungeons. Nobody ever came down here, but he still secured the room with a Silencing charm (one of the few charms he'd mastered, out of necessity) and a couple wards, before sinking to the floor, shaking.

Several minutes later, he felt a little better (most of the panic seemed to have eased, at least), and the thought occurred to him, out of nowhere, that this would probably be a good time to work on that bloody charm - he had the rest of the day free, after all. Potions was the last class of the day.

Earlier that week, Flitwick had apparently decided that, to hell with the syllabus, they were going to work on Patronus charms! He (Flitwick) had then informed them, with his usual cheer, that the Patronus charm was extremely advanced, well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level - but "I'm certain that such wonderful students as yourselves will have no trouble."

Draco had - quite impressively, he thought - refrained from jumping up and manually wringing Flitwick's little neck. Or hexing him - but wringing his neck would have been far more satisfying. He'd just managed remedial Summoning charms, for Merlin's sake! And now he was expected to master something beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level? And not just any advanced charm, but the same one Potter had mastered in THIRD YEAR! He was never going to live this down.

Four hours later, his head sank into his arms, resting on the dusty teacher's desk. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked weakly to the empty room.

"For starters, you're expecting the charm to fail. The Patronus charm, in particular, can only succeed if you fully expect it to succeed."

Draco snorted, too tired to immediately notice anything unusual going on. "Ah, of course! So all I have to do is delude myself into thinking I'm any good at - " he stopped abruptly and looked up, realizing there was somebody in the room with him.

There, seated on top of a student's desk, was the ghost from Potions. She smiled at him, ignoring his look of horror. "Hello."

Draco closed his eyes. This was such a nightmare...

She continued, unperturbed. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier, Draco." Great. Another ghost who knows me. "I'm afraid I've gotten a little accustomed to nobody hearing me, so I've gotten far too outspoken. It keeps me sane. But I certainly wouldn't have spoken up like that if I'd known it would distract you from class, and I assure you, it won't happen again."

Draco opened his eyes at that, shocked. He'd been expecting demands for his help, or at the very least, pleas for his help. He had not been expecting courtesy. Among other things, that wasn't something he was used to getting, unless he first demanded it. It was kind of nice.

"Good. Apology accepted," he said, unsure of what else to say.

She nodded, then looked thoughtful. "Would you like some help? I was pretty good with Charms when I was alive, and I always enjoyed helping people. I rather miss doing that. I miss a lot of things, actually." She paused. "Anyway, if you'd like some help, feel free to ask."

"Hufflepuff?" he asked tiredly, then smiled. Maybe this wasn't the nightmare he'd thought it was. In fact... since nobody ever had to know about this...

She smiled. "No... although the Hat thought about it. It also thought about Slytherin, and Ravenclaw... I think I'm probably the person who wore that hat the longest in the entire history of Hogwarts. It took it a long time to eliminate Ravenclaw, but I ended up in Gryffindor."

"Really." Gryffindor.

"Yes, Draco, I was a Gryffindor." She grinned, obviously knowing exactly what he was thinking. "Going to kick me out? You know, there used to be a time when it wasn't unheard of for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to get along without killing each other..."

"When was that?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.

"Not too long ago. I was friends with Severus, for example."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "I could tell," he said dryly.

"Oh, that." She shook her head. "It's just... this was a bad day. Today would have been James' 37^th birthday, and it's just... kind of hard."

"James?" Why am I asking? Why am I interested?

"My husband. He died just a few minutes before I did. I don't... know where he is." She stared at a random point in front of her for a moment with colorless ghost's eyes, and suddenly Draco had a strong feeling of deja vu. Then she visibly shook herself and smiled at Draco. "I'm Lily Potter, by the way."

Draco coughed. After he'd regained his breath, he stared at her, wondering why she was here. "Oh," he said, intelligently, trying to find a way to put his surprise into words. "And... yet you're speaking to me. And... offering to help me with Charms..."

She laughed. "Yes. Yes, I am. I happen to know a bit more about you than my son does, Draco. And so my opinion of you is a little different from his. I don't mind talking to you. Do you mind my talking to you?" She looked at him closely.

"No," he said, with complete honesty. He actually didn't want her to leave - although he really had no idea why. He considered asking her what she meant about knowing more about him than - but then he decided he probably didn't want to know.

"Good," Lily said, smiling broadly - almost cheekily. Then her smile became a tad more serious. "It is good to talk to someone..."

Draco immediately changed the subject. "How long have you been here?"

"Here, in this room? Here, at Hogwarts? Here, dead?"

"Here, at Hogwarts."

"Off and on for about five years. Most of the time, since I died, I've been following Harry." Deliberately misinterpreting Draco's expression, she added, "it's silly, I know - he can't see me, or hear me..." There was that faraway look in her eyes again. "But I still feel better if I can keep an eye on him. I'm a mother, what can I say," she added wryly. "Of course, I'm not by him all the time. That would be kind of boring, especially when he's sleeping... so sometimes I go somewhere else, usually to see how my friends are doing. For example, I saw Remus yesterday, and - "

"Remus?" He remembered that name from somewhere...

"Remus Lupin... you remember him."

"The werewolf."

Lily looked at him for a moment before answering. "Yes, Draco. 'The werewolf.'" There was a hint of admonition in her voice, so faint Draco almost didn't hear it. He was wondering whether he wanted to ask what was wrong (after all, he'd just been stating fact), when she changed the subject.

"So, would you like some help with Charms? I was always rather proud of my Patronus, and I really think I could help if you'd like..."

Draco considered. On the surface, this was perfect. A tutor, one gotten without having to go through his father, and nobody would ever have to know. And, he rather hated to admit it to himself, but he did need the help.

Of course, there was always the possibility that there was some as-yet-unnamed price. That was, after all, the way most people worked. But it really didn't seem like she worked that way. Most likely, she considered having somebody to talk to as its own reward. And even if she was expecting some other reward - it would be worth it. And not just because of the Charms homework - he suddenly realized he really liked talking to Lily. Although he wasn't quite sure why.

He smiled. "That would be great. Thank you."