The Half-Blood Princes {Book 2}

Ghosts and the Ghost King

Draco

(Ooh, lookie here, a new point of view)

The mission. What I had to do. What I was expected to do. That's all I could think about.

My eyes never left the spot in my plate. The mashed potatoes didn't look very appealing. I couldn't stop thinking about what was expected of me. Pansy was going on about something that Mudblood Granger has said this morning and the kids around her were laughing.

What was I going to do?!

The Dark Lord expected too much. It was too much. I couldn't do it. No one could do it - except maybe Snape. And all the other death eaters. I was not a death eater. Even if Pansy wanted to believe it, even if the whole school believed it, even if I had a dark mark on my arm; I was not one of them. My stupid conscience got in the way. 

Jackson gave out a loud burst of laughter from across the room. I sighed and stood up from the able. Pansy stopped talking to raise an eyebrow. I shook my head and walked away. I needed some fresh air to think. My legs took me to the astronomy tower. Why? I don't know. Maybe I liked the height of it.

The persona I had to keep up at school and at home was exhausting. It wasn't fair. Not everyone can be strong all the time, and yet I had to be. If I wanted to keep the respect that people had for me, then I had to show no weakness. But here I was, at the top of the astronomy tower late at night, tears running down my cheeks. I could see the crescent moon on the horizon. I scowled at it, as if it was the cause of my break down. Wind rustled my hair and robes. Suddenly I realised that my robes wasn't the only sound of rustling I heard. I snapped around to face the stairs and scowled harder.

It was a boy - about eighteen. He wore white clothes and his blonde hair was pale in contrast to the jagged scar down the side of his face.

"Who are you?" I snapped. It was slightly harsh, especially since I had never met this boy, but as I said before; I had a reputation to protect.

"Luke Castellan," He replied. "You must be Draco Malfoy."

"Who wants to know?"

"No one," He shrugged. "Just me."

"How come?"

"Because I was sent here to help you, problem is I have no idea what you need help with."

"I don't need help." I snapped but I sounded unsure. I still had no idea what I was going to do, and there was still the fact that I had no desire to do it.

"That's exactly what I said when I was alive." Castellan chuckled.

"You-" My eyes grew wide and my mouth moved with no sound that came out. "Y-You're-"

"Dead, yes. At least I'm pretty sure I am. I mean, the knife definitely killed me." I stumbled back until my back hit the cold railing.

"You're dead!" I exclaimed, pointing a shaky finger at him.

He sighed. "Yes, we've covered this. What we haven't covered is why you're up here crying late at night."

"I needed to think," I snapped back to my senses. So what if this guy was dead? That didn't matter. It was slightly terrifying that I was talking to a ghost, but I've seen worse. My hand subconsciously went to my left arm. I was worse.

Castellan started walking towards me slowly. "See, I think it's more than that. I think you're trying to keep your 'tough guy' act but I caught you at the moment when your walls were down." He stopped. He looked down at me; I only came to his chin. "How right am I?"