DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated in any way with J.K. Rowling.

"Someone's popular," Ron Weasley muttered, eyeing the large parcel an owl had just dropped on the table in front of the girl sitting opposite him.

"Makes a nice change, doesn't it?" Hermione Granger replied breezily, reaching for the hastily wrapped brown package and trying not to disturb any of the plates or cutlery around her. As she carefully tore at the paper, a small letter fell out. "It's from my parents," she announced in surprise, her eyebrows rising.

"I didn't know they knew how to use an owl," Harry Potter commented from his place next to Ron as he swallowed a mouthful of porridge.

"Since Hogwarts doesn't exactly have a registered telephone number, I thought it best to tell them about the only method they can actually reach me by," Hermione shrugged as she began to read. "It was either that or tie an incredibly long piece of string onto either end of two cups."

"What are you two on about?" Ron asked exasperatedly, already lost.

"Muggle stuff," Harry replied. To Hermione, he continued, "So did you buy them an owl?"

"No," Hermione answered absently, frowning deeply as she read the letter. "I just keep sending the Hogwarts ones to them."

"Ah, the cheap and easy method," Ron grinned. "I know it well."

"No point in her having two pets," Harry laughed at Ron. "You can't stand Crookshanks as it is."

"And unless he suddenly sprouts wings then there's not much chance of me getting my letters delivered other than by owl," Hermione added distantly. She sighed heavily and placed the letter on top of the package.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked in concern, noting his best friend's expression.

"My great aunt just died," Hermione replied quietly. She was frowning as though something had confused or annoyed her.

Ron and Harry exchanged the universal oh no, do you think she's going to cry? look that all boys get when in the presence of an emotional girl before immediately comforting and consoling Hermione.

"I'm really sorry."

"Are you okay?"

"We're here to talk if you need us."

"Do you want a hug?"

Harry and Hermione both shot Ron odd looks for his out-of-character suggestion.

"What?" Ron mumbled self-consciously. "Girls like hugs, right?"

Hermione smiled weakly. "I'm alright thanks. I wasn't close with Great Aunt Tabitha anyway. Just the occasional birthday card three weeks late with no money in it."

"You've got to love families," Harry noted ironically as he helped himself to another spoonful of porridge.

"So what's in the parcel?" Ron asked, nodding his head towards the conspicuous brown bundle.

"Family heirloom apparently," Hermione shrugged, unravelling the rest of the paper. "Some sort of…" her haughty tone drifted off as she held up a beautiful piece of jewellery. "Necklace. Wow."

"Pretty," Ron said, his attention diverted as soon as he realised that there was nothing in the package that would remotely amuse him.

Hermione examined the necklace gently. Slim silver lines fragmented a round crimson gem (that could possibly be real ruby, she noted with intrigue) so that the pendant was split into eight equal pieces. At the heart of the it was another small jewel, this one an emerald. There was a minute hole at the top of the necklace, where black cord had been looped through.

"Apparently, this necklace should be passed on to the female in the next generation, but Great Aunt Tabitha kept it locked in her attic for years," Hermione informed Harry and Ron with excitement. "It's a fair few generations old and mum didn't really see the need for it so she sent it here as a 'welcome to sixth year' gift."

"But term started a month and a half ago," Ron pointed out.

"It's the thought that counts, Ronald," Hermione answered scathingly as she placed the necklace around her neck.

"Wait," Harry said with sudden unease. "Shouldn't you, I don't know, check if it's safe first?"

"What's it going to do, strangle her?" Ron chortled. Then he bit his lip as it dawned on his that this was actually plausible. "Oh."

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "Hermione?"

Hermione, now glaring at the necklace in distrust, discreetly pulled out her wand and murmured a quick spell to ensure that the necklace held no dark magic. When nothing suspicious happened, Hermione smiled happily and proceeded to put the necklace on.

"Does it look okay?" she asked Harry and Ron after deciding that checking her reflection in a spoon really wasn't the best thing to do.

"Look, no offence, but can't you ask Ginny these types of things?" Ron sighed. "I haven't got a clue."

"Right," Hermione snapped. "I forget your amazing incapability to care about anything that isn't a direct advantage to you."

With that, she gathered up the package and her bag and flounced heatedly out of the great hall.

"What was that about?" Ron frowned after her.

"She called you selfish," Harry edited with some confusion. "But you weren't any more so than usual." As Ron scowled at him, Harry laughed. "Sorry mate, it's true."

"Right," Ron grumbled. "But she really took it personally. Do you reckon there was something in that letter that she wasn't telling us about?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. If there was, though, we should wait for her to tell us in her own time."

"Wonder what had Granger so wound up?" Pansy Parkinson speculated aloud as the middle of the Slytherin table watched one of Harry Potter's stupid little followers storm away.

"Probably realized that that new necklace of hers didn't focus attention away from her hair," Draco Malfoy answered bitingly.

Everyone around him laughed sycophantically and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He reminded himself to be grateful that at least this time they were laughing at something which was actually funny. Usually, he could comment on the fruit before him and have the whole group howling. Idiots.

"Hey, Drac," some nameless male, a new addition to the group, piped up after a moment. "You figure out anything about that new ghost yet?"

Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance. Drac? How dare this lowly fifth year speak to him so informally? He glared at the boy for a few seconds, before remembering his name. Bernie…Something-Or-Other. Draco wished he could remember Bernie's surname so he could address him with as much disdain as he possibly could. He was Pansy's latest in a long line of failed boyfriends. Not that Draco minded. In fact, he felt a grudging gratitude to Bernie. After all, it kept Pansy from sniffing around him.

"No," Draco answered, shooting a look at Pansy who rightfully blushed. She wasn't supposed to have told anyone about that.

"Weird, isn't it?" Bernie continued conversationally, tucking his messy raven hair behind his ear and taking another bite of an apple. He continued talking with his mouth full. "That a random ghost would just show up here, I mean. Surprised Dumbledore allowed it. Then again, he's so out of touch I'm surprised that he even notices what he has for breakfast any more."

Bernie glanced up sneeringly at the table at the front of the great hall only to find Dumbledore looking at him with an amused expression. Bernie instantly flushed and snapped his eyes back down to the table.

Draco smirked. "Apparently he's a lot more aware than you are." After throwing his own scornful look at the head table, he scoffed lightly. "Not that Dumbledore will be here much longer anyway. It's only a matter of time until the Dark Lord takes over and when he does…"

He let his sentence hang in the air suggestively. If Potter looked up now then he'd see the occupants of the middle of the Slytherin table all sneering at him. Not that it'd enter his thick, scarred head to take them seriously. He acted like he owned the school, waltzing around with his pathetic band of googly-eyed do-gooders.

"A word, Draco," a hollow voice requested from just behind Draco's chair, almost making him jump out of his skin.

Fully expecting it to be a teacher, he began to turn around, disparaging remark in place. But the words died on his lips when he saw who it was that had spoken.

The ghost that had been haunting him was now staring at him with baleful eyes and had stretched out a translucent hand. Draco glanced back to the table and saw his group all staring at the ghost with open mouths. Ignoring the shiver that ran down his spine, he scoffed and turned back around.

"I won't take orders from a ghost," he muttered, picking up a bread roll.

"It was a request," the ghost corrected. "One I advise you to accept."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine." He stood up, throwing a careless glance back at his friends. "I'll see you later."

He made sure that his purposeful stride was ahead of the ghost's drifting form by at least a foot so as to show who was in charge. Draco refused to admit to himself that he was curious and even a little scared by the ghost's presence. He had never been personally haunted before and wondered what he had done to deserve it.

Better not go into that, he silently amended.

"Right," he said rudely once he had led the ghost into the relatively quiet entrance hall. He noted that Granger was sitting on the third step of the grand staircase that led to the upper floors of Hogwarts, poring over something. Probably homework that wouldn't even be set until tomorrow. He turned his attention back to the ghost. "What do you want?"

But the ghost's attention was fixed on Hermione.

"What's her name?" he asked Draco without looking away from the bushy-haired girl.

"Granger," Draco answered shortly. "Now what-"

"Is that her first name or did she just have unusual parents?"

"Hermione Granger," Draco answered through his teeth. "Best friend of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, Mudblood, smart and annoyingly eager." He rattled off the list of everything he could recall about the girl he had spent the past six years despising by association.

"Mudblood?" the ghost repeated in surprise, his thick eyebrows rising. "I never would've assumed-"

"Yes, it came as a shock to all of us," Draco cut in scathingly. "Now I really don't appreciate you following me around being cryptic, so tell me what you want and then we can go on with our lives." He paused. "I can go on with my life, you can go on with your afterlife."

"Willingness to get to the point," the ghost mused. "You truly are a Malfoy." He chuckled humourlessly - another Malfoy trait - and continued. "I am Trayton Malfoy and I believe you are my great - to however many degrees - grandson."

Draco stood, stunned, for a few seconds. He looked at the ghost in a new light, taking in the slight curve of his lips as he smirked, his old-fashioned clothes, the way he managed to look self-assured even when floating. He couldn't have been older than twenty five and yet his eyes showed eternal, cunning wisdom.

Of course, Draco approved of him instantly now that he knew who he was.

"Draco Malfoy," Draco introduced, although of course Trayton already knew who he was. "Latest in the line of Malfoys. Still Pureblood, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear."

"Thrilled," Trayton answered dryly.

"It's quite an achievement," Draco said with a frown. "There aren't that many families today whose blood isn't tainted."

"I'm sure your medal is coming any day now," Trayton told the platinum haired boy sarcastically. His eyes strayed over to where Hermione sat, chewing on her lip agitatedly. "Have you ever heard her talk about her ancestors?"

"I haven't heard her talk about anything that didn't directly involve homework," Draco answered. It wasn't the strictest truth of course, but he was slightly sore at the way Trayton had dismissed his lineage so easily. "What do you care, anyway? They're probably all Muggles."

"They're not," Trayton answered, his voice so soft that Draco barely caught it over the noise coming from the great hall. He turned back to Draco, suddenly all business. "You see the necklace she's wearing?" At a nod from Draco, he continued. "I want it."

"It won't go with your outfit," Draco warned with a smirk.

"Get me the necklace," Trayton told his great (etcetera) grandson, ignoring the boy's comment. "I can make it worth your while."

Draco glanced at his ancestor disparagingly. "No disrespect meant, but you're a ghost. Unless you want to tell me where there's a map to some long-lost treasure, there's really nothing that you can offer me."

"Oh?" Trayton asked. "I'll wager that there's many things that you don't know about Hogwarts."

"I know enough," Draco dismissed. "The castle isn't nearly as mysterious as people make it out to be."

"Then you'll know all about the Sons of Slytherin."

That had Draco's attention.

Trayton's lips curved upwards at the boy's expression. "No? Well then, that is surprising. I thought our secret society would be the stuff of legends by now."

"If people were talking about it, then the 'secret' part would've been compromised," Draco scowled.

"Shame…" Trayton sighed. "We knew the ins and outs of the school, the potions books and the restricted section of the library. We could've been Gods with the power we had amassed. Perhaps someone would be willing to carry on my legacy."

Draco couldn't have missed the very pointed look that was being thrown his way. His eyes wandered over to Granger, who had just been joined by Potter and Weasley. They were talking quietly to her and patting her on the arm in what was supposed to be comforting. He felt his blood boil at his hatred of all of them. With the power that Trayton promised, he could get them back for all the times they had gotten the last word or curse in and made him look a fool.

It didn't even take five seconds to consider it. Draco turned to Trayton.

"You want the necklace? It's yours."

A/N:

Hello everyone!

I hope that you enjoyed the first chapter of my new fanfic. It's my first time writing a full-length Harry Potter fic, so if there's any mistakes then let me know. You can PM me or leave me a nice, happy, shiny review :) The review button has been moved and it's now green (presumably so that it stands out but hey, I'm no expert on these things) and urging you to click on it.

Have a great week everyone!

- Momo