Ghost of My Former Self

Although it was not particularly something Harry wished to do, he did as Malfoy asked of him and stopped spouting what Malfoy deemed lies. It was easier said than done since Harry had no way of knowing the difference between the two. Without prior knowledge of what was real in this world, Harry would have to rely on Malfoy to help him; whenever Harry did something out of the ordinary, it was Malfoy who would scold him for what he was doing wrong.

This, in and of itself, was beyond cruel. He hated having to rely on his enemy for help with this. So, Harry made a concentrated effort to keep out of trouble, consequently avoiding Malfoy as much as he possibly could. Before Harry knew it, Saturday had come, and so did a note Harry was dreading.

Potter
Your first detention shall be served tonight at 7. Please report to the Great Hall at that time. Do not be late.

Snape

Harry balled the note up in his fist and glared across the table where Ron Weasley sat, pouring over a two foot-long scroll. Ron may have been his best friend, but having Fabian Prewett in the halls of the school changed him; he was no longer Harry's friend. No friend of Harry's would rat him out to Snape for not doing his work. If anyone, Malfoy would have done that. But, this was not the case, a fact which surprised him. After all the years of hating each other, it was surprisingly Malfoy who was Harry's true friend through all of this. Not Ron. Not Hermione. Malfoy.

Not wanting to think of this anymore than he had, Harry left the Great Hall, finding he could not stand to be around Ron after what he did. As he went by, Harry looked to the Ravenclaw table, hoping to catch Hermione's eye. Over the past few days, Harry had wanted to speak with Hermione, but never could. Ever since the incident that first day, Hermione had avoided Harry like the plague. Out of everything that Harry lost through this spell, coupled with everything that occurred thus far during the week, it was Hermione's friendship that Harry seemed to miss the most at the moment. She was the voice of reason in their group, and SHE probably would be able to uncover the cause of this life Harry found so confusing.

Ultimately, he missed having Ron and Hermione around. Ever since first year, they were the ones to help Harry face the perils year after year. If not for them, Harry's life would have been way worse than it had been. Voldemort might have succeeded in his plans. With Ron's and Hermione's help, Harry was always able to destroy him. Without them by his side, things would never be the same. Dean, Seamus, and Malfoy could never truly fill the spots in Harry's life that were so recently vacated by Ron and Hermione. No one, no matter how hard they tried, would ever compare to them.

Since Hermione was nowhere to be found at the moment, Harry had no choice but to go out and look for her. He needed her help to figure out why all of this was happening to him. Hermione might be the only one who could help him figure this out, since he and Ron were not on good terms. "Okay, library first; if anywhere, that's where she would be," Harry acknowledged. Even if Malfoy altered their lives, there was no way he could change their personalities, not that much. So, Hermione would still love disappearing to the library, despite being a Ravenclaw. Considering that it was usually Ravenclaws that were the more studious and homework-oriented, it made sense that Hermione was placed in Ravenclaw, even if it was some cruel joke Malfoy set forth to confuse Harry.

To Harry's own shock, he found no sign of Hermione. She wasn't in the library. But, if she wasn't there, where could she possibly be? The library was the most logical place for Hermione to be yet she wasn't there, so there was no telling as to where Harry might find his friend. "Damn it!" he mumbled so Madam Pince wouldn't hear him. "She's not here. Where though? Where could Hermione be?"

If not in the library, Harry needed to search for Hermione. She had to be somewhere. The question was where? Knowing Hermione though, it would never be the Quidditch Pitch; the one thing Hermione seemed to hate made than failing, or close to it, was flying. It was actually the only thing Harry and Ron were better at than Hermione. So, there was no chance of catching Hermione at the Quidditch Pitch. But, the rest of the school was fair game. The question was where? Where had Hermione secluded herself that Harry wouldn't find her.

Dashing out of the library, careful not to make a noise and bother Madam Pince, Harry searched for any of sign of Hermione. In each place Harry searched though, he found no sign of her. Maybe the grounds, Harry wondered. She may not be on the Quidditch Pitch, but there's a chance she might be somewhere else. So, Harry hurried outside to look for Hermione.

While on his way out there, Harry bumped into a third year Hufflepuff, his sister: Rachel Potter. Aside from Malfoy, his sister was the last person Harry had been hoping to bump into. Rachel's existence was a constant reminder of the fact that the world he was living in had something terribly wrong with it. That was the last thing he needed. All he wanted was to go out and look for Hermione, so that he had a chance at figuring out what was happening to him, what Malfoy seemed to have caused.

Harry did his best to avoid his younger sister, but it was to no avail. Rachel tugged on his sleeve, eventually pulling him back towards her. "Hey, Harry, what are you doing?"

"You don't want to know," Harry intoned, pulling out of his sister's grip so he could continue his search for Hermione.

"Of course I do," Rachel insisted. "Come on; tell me, Harry. Maybe I can help you."

"I doubt that," Harry mumbled. "Look, Rachel, I appreciate the gesture, I really do; however, there's no way you could help. You're a mere third year and the person I'm looking for is a sixth year. Sorry, Rachel, but I don't think you can help me with this."

"Maybe I can though," Rachel argued. "Just tell me who you’re looking for and I’ll tell you if I can help."

Though he seriously doubted that his younger sister would be of much use in locating Hermione, he supposed it would hurt to try. What did he have to lose by telling her? Not asking her might even turn out to be a bad thing since Rachel could hold some piece of information he needed that no one else knew of. "Granger. Hermione Granger," he told his sister.

Upon hearing that name, Rachel’s hazel eyes widened. "I thought as much. Look, Harry, I’ve got to go."

The reason for his sister’s abrupt departure was not only not known to Harry, but not needed. Her disappearing like that allowed Harry to continue his search for Hermione, for finding her had become a necessity. So, Harry headed out to the grounds, hoping that he might be able to locate that ever elusive Hermione Granger.

∞

Harry was beyond pissed as he sat down to dinner that night. After a full day of searching, he still had not found where Hermione might be hiding. The closest he came to seeing Hermione was at meals, but there was no way to approach her, at least not without Malfoy lurking somewhere nearby. So, he slumped down into his seat rather dejected to eat.

Dinner was a rather subdued affair, at least where Harry was concerned. He refused to speak with anyone, just knowing that anyone who wished to speak with him would not be one of his two best friends. At the end of dinner, Harry looked up to see that Hermione had already gone; he had no chance of going after her. Consequently, Harry left the Great Hall and headed up to the Gryffindor common room. Maybe some peace and quiet would do him some good before sitting through the sheer torture that was Snape’s detention.

Unfortunately, Harry never made it to the Gryffindor common room. A hand pulled him back before he could get there. Spinning around, Harry soon found Malfoy staring back at him. "What is it, Draco?"

Malfoy scowled. "What do you think you’re doing?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, unsure of what his friend was even referring to.

"You’re looking into things that I warned you not to. I heard from a reliable source that you’re looking for someone, someone I know for a fact that you’re not even friends with," Malfoy warned. "Harry, you were told time and time again that you were not to keep doing this. Since the beginning of the week, you haven’t been yourself and I, for one, am sick of it. It’s high time you started acting that way again and forgetting this outlandish fascination with acting out."

The minute Malfoy began talking, a million thoughts came rushing to Harry’s head. The most prevalent was also the most obvious. How did he find out?. Harry had taken great care to ensure that Draco Malfoy would never find out what he was doing. All the people he asked regarding Hermione’s whereabouts were people Harry was sure would not rat him out; he was sure that this wouldn’t get back to Malfoy. Clearly, he was mistaken. Someone told. But, who? Harry groaned. "You’re not my keeper, Draco. I can do what I want. It is, after all, my life. You have no say in what I do with my life. So, mind your own business." Harry was almost going to walk away before remembered one other thing he wanted to know. "And, anyway, who is this reliable source of yours? I doubt there is anyone in the school you seem trustworthy enough to take their word for something that happened."

"Oh, it was…"

Malfoy never got the chance to tell Harry who it was, for a booming voice interrupted them. “Potter!" Snape bellowed. "Your detention starts in two minutes. Come with me."

Before Harry could follow the Potions Master, Malfoy grabbed hold of him. "We’re not done here. After your detention, you are and I are going to finish this little talk, so I can get it through to you that you should not be doing this."

"Whatever, Draco," Harry muttered.

"Potter, now!" Snape yelled.

Harry quickly hurried after Snape, wondering what this bout of detention would consist of. Usually it was would be scrubbing cauldrons without magic or something to that effect. But, what would it be this time. "Uh, sir, what will be doing for my detention tonight?"

Snape growled. "I would normally have you helping me in the dungeon, but I already have several students helping me down there. So, I shall have you clean the next best thing. You, Potter, will be cleaning the entire Trophy Room, without magic. It has become rather filthy since last cleaned."

Harry’s mood brightened. Although he would still be cleaning, the Trophy Room was a better alternative to the dungeon. And, Harry had not been there since he and Ron were given awards for special services to the school in ensuring that Voldemort and his dreaded basilisk did not kill any of the muggleborns that would force Hogwarts to close down forever. That would be a fantastic sight to see. So, Harry trudged after Snape, hoping to get a look at the award he suffered for during his second year.

Upon reaching the Trophy Room, Snape conjured up some cleaning supplies and dropped them at Harry’s feet. "Filch will stop by in an hour to check on your progress. I suggest you start."

As Snape retreated back to his dungeon, Harry rushed over to the trophy case to look for his and Ron’s awards. He searched high and low for the award that bore his name, but found that there was none, at least not here. In fact, as he searched through the awards, Harry noticed something rather peculiar. In his second year, Harry recalled Ron telling him of one of the detentions he received for the flying car incident. It occurred shortly after the slug incident, which ultimately forced Ron to clean a particular award several times. And, it was this same award which Harry noticed to be inconspicuously absent from the room. The award for special services to the school—the one received by framing Hagrid—was not there. And, that award belonged to one Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort himself.