"Professor Binns! Professor Binns!" Harry didn't know if it would work. He didn't know what Binns did in his free time or if he, too, "haunted" Hogwarts when he wasn't teaching his incredibly boring History of Magic classes. But he looked around the teacher's quarters anyway from his place in the Malfoy fireplace. How was one to get the attention of a ghost, anyway?

Something shimmered in the corner of the dusty room, a room the house elves seemed to have neglected, being that its inhabitant neither needed food or laundry or any other kind of upkeep. The shimmering became a blob of something milky white, like a concentrated fog and it suddenly coalesced into the shape of Professor Binns. He glared at his fireplace as if he had never seen it before. Harry doubted that anyone would ever floo the professor these days. Perhaps they never had when he was alive, either.

"Harry?" said the professor curiously. He floated forward. Harry realized that he had never actually seen the professor move before. Always in his classes he would stay in the one spot behind his lectern and lecture ceaselessly in the same monotone without ever moving a muscle or changing the tenor of his voice. "Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes, Professor, I'm sorry to disturb you."

"Think nothing of it, Professor Potter. Why, I've never had anyone floo me before," he said, confirming Harry's suspicions. "But wait. Are you not on your honeymoon? Surely there is nothing I can help you with there. I have been a confirmed bachelor all my life and indeed, into my death as well. If it is advice you seek, I recommend Flitwick. He's quite the ladies man, I hear tell."

Ew. Harry didn't want to think about that. "No. It's nothing like that-"

"Of course…" Binns giggled uncharacteristically. "Ladies wouldn't be at issue, now would they? Dear me. That reminds me of a fellow I knew in my fifth year. He was Quidditch captain and quite good-looking for those days-"

Harry blushed. "No! No, sir. It's not that at all. It's quite a different problem that only your…unique…circumstances can relate to."

"Oh? What is it, Harry?"

"Well…may I…may I floo to your office? It would be easier talking to you face to face."

"Certainly." He waved his wand and the floo network opened. Harry whooshed into the fireplace, and stepped out, brushing the soot from his robes.

"Thanks," he said and took a seat. Binns hovered. "Draco and I are currently at Malfoy Manor and we came across an unexpected problem: My father-in-law."

"Lucius Malfoy? But I thought he was dead."

"He is."

"Oh. Oh! I see." Binns floated toward the fireplace and stared into it. "That must have been a most unpleasant surprise."

"A bit! But the thing of it is, it's just him. Not his wife. I know he's lonely. And I know he doesn't deserve any help, but I was wondering if there was any way he could be…you know. Sent on."

"Exorcised?"

"Well…I don't know. I'm a little fuzzy where ghosts are concerned. Sir," he felt the need to add.

"Oh exorcising doesn't hurt, I assure you. It is merely a way of convincing the spirit to move on."

"But…move on where, sir? Will he…will he be reunited with his wife?"

"Now that's tricky business. Do you suppose she'd want it?"

"By all indications."

"Then it will be much easier. My advice to you, Harry, is to have a séance."

"A séance? Really?"

"Yes. A skilled medium will be able to direct the departed soul to the right place."

Harry sat and thought about that for a bit. He looked at Binns. "May I ask you a personal question, sir?"

"Certainly."

"I once asked Nearly-um, Sir Nicholas about why he was a ghost and he told me…told me that he feared to face death. Is…is that right?"

"Indeed, yes, Harry."

"Then sir. If you know how to…to move on, then why don't you do it?"

Binns fiddled with his ghostly glasses and floated to the other side of the hearth. "Well. My opinion of death, you see, hasn't changed."

"You mean…you're still afraid of it? But why? You've been dead a long time. Surely it seems okay to you now."

"It's not that, Harry." He continued floating until he reached the window and slowed to stare out the lancet arch. "You see, I have become accustomed to this plain. I am…comfortable here. Comfortable with my lot. I have no wish-indeed, I have never wished-to leave Hogwarts. And upon my death, I was granted my wish. I stayed. It is not fear that prevents me from moving on. Merely reluctance. This is where I belong."

"So…if Lucius Malfoy feels the same way, he won't leave either. Is that what you mean?"

"Quite. A spirit becomes attached to certain locations. Most often it is the location of their demise, but in other instances, it can be an attachment to a particular place, a childhood home, for instance, or the place the deceased worked. For me, it was both. Hogwarts has been home to me for a very long time indeed. I shouldn't like to leave it."

"Uh huh." Harry knew he'd have to have a long talk with Draco after this was over, about death and departing.

"So if you would like to be relieved of your…spirit problem," said Binns, "may I suggest you discuss it with Professor Trelawney."

"What? That fraud?"

Binns was taken aback and Harry was instantly mortified. He hadn't meant to disparage a fellow teacher in front of another, but with all the pent up emotions it had just flown out. "I'm so sorry, professor. I'm just…well. That was inexcusable."

Binns' surprised expression calmed and he smiled. "Well, though it may be true that most of Divination is bunk, her medium skills are quite advanced. I believe she would be happy to help you."

"Thank you, sir. You've been a big help."

"It's been my pleasure, my boy. Do you know, I think this is the most words we have ever spoken to one another."

Harry grinned. "That's probably true. I was never good at history and you have no use for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Still, I'm glad we did have a chance to talk."

"Indeed, indeed. Well. Don't let me keep you."

"I'll just floo over to Sybil's fire. Don't really want to get caught talking to anyone. Supposed to be on my honeymoon, after all. Don't tell anyone I was here, okay?"

"Certainly not, Professor. Farewell." And with that, Binns faded slowly from view. Harry shook his head at it. After all the things he'd seen, all the things he'd done, he feared he would never catch up after his lost eleven years of being out of the loop of the Wizarding world.

* * *

He flooed to Trelawney's fire and was not pleased to see that he ended up in her classroom and not her rooms. Where did she live, anyway? He supposed he could follow the trail of sherry bottles. He chuckled and then stopped. It wasn't a very kind thought, but then again, she'd never been one of his favorite teachers, predicting his death all the time in the worst ways imaginable.

He sighed, inhaling the memory of the sickly sweet incense she always burned in this room. Where was he to find her?

"Professor Trelawney? Are you here? Sybil! ...Sod it." He dug his fists in his hips and looked around. The room was filled with small round tables covered in flowered shawls, their long tassels hanging over the table edges. Crystal balls sat in the center of each table, each ball annoyingly blank and silent. One whole wall was lined with shelves holding nothing but tea cups and saucers. There were tiny windows that let in only sparse light. Cramped quarters. Incense. He had really hated those classes.

"Oh!" Trelawney swept suddenly into the room out of nowhere and stopped dead, making Harry's heart beat at twice the rhythm. "I didn't know anyone was here!" she exclaimed, her hand on her heart.

Didn't predict that, eh? Harry's heart slowed to normal and he smiled at her. "Hi, Sybil. Look, I've got a bit of a ghost problem and Binns recommended I talk to you."

She blinked her eyes made enormous by her bug-eyed lenses. "Binns, you say? Ah, what a sweet man. Such a kind spirit. Quite unusual. Quite unusual. And you needed what, dear boy?"

"Well, my father-in-law is haunting his ancestral estates and it's making quite a problem for Draco and me."

She tisked loudly. "Yes, yes. But this is not a good reason to send the departed on. An ancestral home has a very strong attraction for the astral plain, yes. He is tied to it, I'm afraid."

"Yes, but his wife isn't and he's lonely. I think it would be for the best all around if he just-" Sod off? "If he was sent off properly, you know?"

"Ah! A spouse! She has moved on, you say?"

"Yes. Apparently. But Lucius Malfoy, well. He hasn't. Won't. And I need him to…that is, I think he'd be happier."

"And what of his son?"

"Oh. Is that important?"

"Of course!" she nearly shrieked and grabbed his shoulders. "If he still has ties to this life he will be reluctant to leave this plain. His son must accept that he will move on. Or I am afraid there will be nothing we can do."

"I see. So I need to talk to him."

"Indeed yes."

"Well, if all goes well, will you come to Malfoy Manor and do a séance?"

Her lips spread wide in a silly grin. "I have not performed a séance in many a year. I should be delighted to do so. And such an illustrious spirit, too. Infamous, even. What a delight."

"Yeah. A delight. So you will?"

"Of course! You make all the necessary compromises and I will prepare."

"Um…okay. Thanks, Sybil. I'll be contacting you with any luck in a few days."

"Oh I predict it will be less than a few days."

"Well I hope you're right."

"Hope, my boy? I know I shall be."

"O-kay. See you." He stepped into the fireplace and returned to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

He waited in Draco's room for him to return. Time crept by. He paced. He looked out the window down the lawn as the light crept toward the horizon and the shadows from the tall hedges and copses grew longer along the green grass until night finally fell.

Dinner appeared on the dining room table and the sound of it arriving as well as the tantalizing smells awoke Harry to the more mundane. "Draco, where the hell are you? I'm hungry."

"So eat," said the Slytherin, walking through the door.

Harry jumped to his feet. "I was getting worried."

"Why? Father wouldn't hurt me. He can't." Draco drifted toward the table and sank onto a chair. Harry hurried to pour him the ruby-red wine. Draco took the glass and tipped it to his lips.

"So…how did it go?"

Draco gave a sad smile. "We talked about…everything. It was really quite the most honest conversation we ever had. A few starts and stops as we convinced each other not to lie." He blushed at that and drank more. He shrugged. "It's the Slytherin in us, I guess."

"How's he doing?"

"He's lonely without Mother. He's not happy, Harry. I don't know what to do."

Harry beamed, proud of himself. "Then you are going to be so pleased with your husband."

He set the glass down and looked at Harry for the first time. "What? What are you grinning at?"

"I think I've solved everyone's problem. I've discovered a way to send Lucius Malfoy on to a better life."

"Huh?"

"A séance, my love. A séance. And he will be reunited with his beloved Narcissa." And away from here.

Draco's grey eyes brightened. "You're joking."

"Nope. I just had a nice chat with Binns and Trelawney, of all people, and they say it can be done. As long as all parties agree."

Draco's happy expression dimmed. "Oh. So that means he won't be here anymore, right?"

"Yes. He'll move on as he's supposed to do. He'll be happier, Draco. Don't you want that?"

"Yes," he said in an unconvinced tenor. "I mean of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"You pillock. Because you just got your father back and now you have to give him up again. I'm not an idiot."

He smiled sheepishly at Harry. "Harry Potter saves the day again."

"I guess I do have a 'saving thing'."

"I'd still have the portrait," said Draco hopefully. "Not quite the same thing but better than nothing."

"True."

"He'll have to agree, of course."

"Yeah. About that. Do you know anything about ghosts, Draco?"

"Not really. We never really covered them in school."

"Well, I once had a conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, and I discovered that ghosts are wizards who…well, who have a fear of death, and so they never really leave."

Draco scowled. "My father isn't afraid of anything!"

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. "I know, love. But maybe, at the actual moment, something happened and…"

Draco slumped and waved his hand half-heartedly. "You don't have to make excuses. He's a Slytherin. We're all a bit…less than brave."

A good way not to say cowardly, Harry mused, though Snape certainly was no coward. "So we'll have to talk him into it."

"Yeah, but tomorrow, okay. I'm knackered."

"Why don't you eat something and we can get to bed early."

He watched Harry as he filled Draco's plate for him. "You're really good at this, you know."

"Well I did spend the first part of my life living pretty much like a house elf-"

"I don't mean that, you git. I mean…all the other things. Finding out about…stuff. You take good care of me."

"What are husbands for?"

Draco stabbed his food with a fork and gazed at Harry. "You are still going to be so shagged tonight."

Harry looked up at the Slytherin's smoldering expression and felt a wash of heat creep up his body. "Are you sure we won't be interrupted?"

"Positive."

"Okay, Mr. Malfoy. Then I'll eat quick."


On to Chapter Seven
"Harry and Draco's Dilemma"

Back to Chapter Five
"Lucius Malfoy's Problem"

Chapter Index

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