Esprit D'Elle

Now, I’m not one to break the rules, but this is serious. Very serious. Nobody kidnaps my husband and children and gets away with it! Hmph!

I march right out of that house and suddenly stop. I was missing vital information that was being spoken of at that very moment! I turn back around and march right back into the house.

“....You think that Voldemort could just take Harry out of his office without anyone seeing?” Ron was asking.

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

“Now, if you don’t have anymore questions...” Mr. Bernard says.

“Hey, uh, wait. I got another question!”

“Now what?”

“Well, why would Voldemort take both Harry AND his children?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Mr. Weasley.”

“Oh, all right then.”

“Any more questions?”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

“No, uh, wait! I got another question!”

“Argh. What now?”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Yes, I am an Auror.”

“Because I don’t think you’re being very professional.”

Mr. Bernard glared.

Ron looked innocent.

“Stop it, Ron. Leave the man alone so he can go find Harry.”

“Shut up, Ginny.”

Obviously, this wasn’t going to be that much useful. Ron and Ginny were probably going to start bickering and that would just be immature.

So, now, I march right out of the house, knowing I’m breaking the ‘damnation to one’s home’ rule, but I really don’t care right about know. Who does?

I go to the one place I know where I can get help: The Leaky Cauldron.    

********************

I don’t care to go back to England now. I’m dead and now everyone’s going to laugh at me. But, that’s not important right now. I need help. And the only people who can help me are there.

I use my amazing ‘poof’ ghost powers to get there. Soon enough I am standing outside a run-down tavern. I walk in.

I see all sorts of people. People I knew once. People who are alive. They can’t see me. That’s not my fault. Blame those blasted Americans and they’re demonic ways. But, being dead and a ghost myself, I can see the ghosts who are there. I know these people too. My friends from before the battles and the killings. I see one other who is not my friend. I go up and sit beside him at bar.

“Hullo,” I say.

“What do you want?” he says.

This sounds like one of those responses that you say without thinking. I take it as one.            

“I need to talk to you,” I say.

He looks up from staring down. “Granger?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“What happened to you?” he says scornfully.

“I died,” I say.

“Yeah, no shit. But how?”

“I was murdered,” I say lightly. No need to go into details.

He smiles. For once. Shocking really. “Good. Who did you in?”

“A slave driver.”

He looks puzzled.

“I went back in time.”

“Ah,” he says. Like that explains it.

“No need to ask what happened to you,” I say, knowing this will tick him off completely.

“You think you know what happened so well, don’t you, you little Mudblood? Course you know! You know everything!” He slams his fists on the counter and stomps out of the Leaky Cauldron like the spoiled brat he is.

“Malfoy,” I say, “stop being such a spoiled brat.”

“No,” he says, leaning against the wall. He glares at the pavement.

“Malfoy, I need your help.”

“You?” he says with disbelief. “You need my help. Granger, what happened to your sense when you died?”

I take a deep breath, fighting tears. “Malfoy, Harry is in danger. Voldemort took him. He’s going to do something awful to him.”    

“So? This is my problem how..?”

“My children. Voldemort took my children too. Anna and Michael. My babies. He took them.”

He looks up at me. Children. For some unknown reason, he has always had a softspot for children. He was the one who had insisted that Voldemort leave children alone. And, surprisingly, for a little while, he did. Not anymore, I guess.

Malfoy takes a deep breath, then sighs. He’s thinking. Hard too. He had never liked me but had met my children once, without knowing they were mine and Harry’s. He had liked them. Very fond of them, would be the correct thing to say.

He walks over to me. “What do I need to know?”

I smile. “Thank you,” I whisper, almost inaudibly.

He hears me.