What is your secret?

Part 3: Unexpected visitor

The overfilled bladder forced Ron to wake up in the middle of the night. A quick casting of 'Tempus' spell confirmed his suspicion. It was 3:45 of night.

‘Or morning,’ the boy smiled. ‘It depends on how to think about those night hours.’

Ron yawned sleepily, and scratching his stomach, trudged to the toilet. After finishing his mission, the redhead returned to the bedroom. He cast a glance at his best friend's bed and frowned. The bed reminded in the same untouched state as it was when Ron went to his bed several hours ago. It proved that Harry had not returned yet.

Ron and his roommates were well acquainted with Harry's habit to wander the Hogwarts' corridors after curfew. It started after some very nasty nightmares that tormented the Boy-Who-Lived. At first, Harry refused to sleep at all. Really, ever Ron knew that was not the best way to solve the problem. A half-hourly-non-stop lection from Hermione (Ron shuddered with horror, ‘Scary!’), and Harry gladly switched to look for another solution.

For some time Harry was able to get rid of the nightmares with a help of 'Sleeping Draught’. However, it turned out that the sleeping-draught was very addictive; therefore, Harry had to give up the potion. Now he just physically exhausting himself with walking along the castle's corridors, hoping to collapse unconscious after returning to his bedroom, and dream no dreams.

However, Harry usually returned before than that night.

‘Harry, mate, where did you disappear to?’ Ron thought worriedly. He sat cross-legged on his bed, prepared to wait for return of his best-friend.

* * *

With an interest, Harry peered through the ‘window’ that appeared on surface of the mysterious pool. The visions in it were less clear and understandable than the ones from the other pool. Harry got closer, trying to discern the flitting images…

He could distinguish only several things. Like a party at the Gryffindor’s tower… Or Hermione’s throwing a book at Ron, but accidentally hitting Ginny who was just passing by… Or himself, standing in a scantily lit broom cupboard, embracing some blond girl from behind and kissing her neck…

Suddenly, a spurt of water that had been connecting both mirror pools swung slightly and brushed against the unsuspecting Harry Potter, catching him of guard. Harry flinched, surprised, then swore in a low voice.

The surface of the mystic pool once again got hazy; and after the mist disappeared, the water became rippling and boiling. That was unique sight: the vertically standing boiling wall of water…

Way too soon, the surface of the pool settled down, and became smooth like a lake of mercury. With a keen interest, Harry stared at his own reflection in the mirror-like plane.

Flashing face, shining eyes, curious expression…

Harry could not deny himself being very interested about that last, specific vision about him and some blond girl. He knew that that particular incident never had happened, because Harry has not dated anyone with a short blond hair yet...

‘Is she from my future?’ he mused. ‘Cool!’

So lost in his thought, Harry didn’t see as a hand emerged from the pool, closely followed by its owner. Surprised, Harry abruptly moved back, stumbled over his own legs and plopped down onto his bottom.

“Malfoy?!”

The Slytherin, like legendary Aphrodite that emerged from the sea, was majestic and beaut... (‘No!’ Harry stroked out the unfinished thought.) Still... That was an interesting appearance.

Meantime, the said blonde-haired boy looked at his hands, stirred his fingers, glanced over himself and then, out of the blue, smiled.

"Eh?" That was all that Harry could utter, sitting on the floor.

Malfoy approached Harry, squatted down beside him and began to observe the Gryffindor closely. To Harry's huge perplexity and displeasure, Malfoy kept on smiling.

'What's wrong with him?' Harry wondered. 'Have somebody hexed him or he just drank a wrong potion?'

Really, the strange behaviour of Malfoy was disturbing. That is why as soon as Harry came to his senses he hastily rose to his feet, and pushed his enemy aside.

“Get away from me, Malfoy!” he exclaimed angrily.

However… Harry’s hand that would had been meeting with an obstacle in the form of the blonde’s chest, to utter shock of dark-haired boy, passed through the Slytherin’s body, as if Malfoy was made of thin air. Harry’s eyes opened wide from shock. He once again lost his balance and fell heavily onto the floor.

It looked like the phantom of Malfoy was as surprised with his own disembodied state as Potter was. The blonde guy frowned, examined himself, then turned to the Gryffindor and said something. Harry saw Malfoy’s lips moving, but no single sound came aloud. Malfoy frowned even more. He made another attempt to say at least a word. But the result was the same – the blond reminded mute.

For the second time that night Harry rose to his feet after dumb sitting on the floor. He hastily stepped aside from the strange phantom.

“Malfoy! Have you died or something?” Harry asked warily. “If you are a ghost, than that means that you are dead, aren’t you?”

To tell the true, it was very unnerving to think that a guy whom you knew for several years already quite unexpectedly passed away. Even if that guy for the whole time had been a complete jerk as regards to you and your friends. Even so, Harry never wished Malfoy’s death. And so, Harry gave preference to another plausible reason of his nemesis’ strange condition.

"No! That must be some king of spell that allows you to be a spirit temporarily, right, Malfoy? Or a potion? That is it, isn't it?!"

For several moments, the phantom had been lost in his thoughts. Then he just shrugged his shoulders with confusion in a very clear gesture ‘Don’t know’.

Harry sighed. “What do we have to do with you, Malfoy?”

Really, Harry had not a slightest idea of what to do with the phantom. But it seamed that Malfoy had something in his mind. He smiled and beckoned the Gryffindor to follow him. Harry looked sceptically at his enemy, but nevertheless, followed his incorporeal guide.