Chapter One

This Little Afterlife Of Mine

I, Hermione Jean Granger, age 19(and holding for the last decade) am dead.

I know.

I know.

Shocked the sweet pickles out of me to.

There I was minding my own fudging business in the Hogwarts Library on the last day of eighth-year and bam, splat! A first-year Leviosad an extraordinarily heavy tome a little too hard and tipped an entire bookcase onto my unsuspecting self, and it was lights out for your favorite war heroine. I was profoundly irritated by the events! Survive the bloody war just to be snubbed out by books! The papers were not kind in the least and the last ten years have been a bit of an endless joke on my part. I thought the afterlife would've been a simple affair, what, with my death occurring at Hogwarts and all. You were supposed to be able to haunt the castle! For Merlin's sake, the moaning girl died in the toilets and got to stay! But, no, not my luck, unfortunately. I somehow got the lovely Malfoy Manor as my eternal haunting space.

Yay, me.

Never figured out why it happened either, just learned to accept and adapt.

Anyways, fun fact of my fantastic afterlife existence number one, no one can see me. They can't hear me. They can't feel me. Not one bloody person. I tried, and I'm not ashamed I attempted to possess near every person who came through those pretentious gates and set foot in the Manor. Slytherin, former Death Eaters, questionable females wearing next to nothing, yep tried them all.

So far, nothing.

I've had to find ways to entertain myself along the way, over the years. I quite enjoy one of the few abilities I do have, one that happens to drive the elder Malfoys absolutely crazy. I have the nifty gift of being able to touch clothing, such as rare and expensive dresses and make them reappear in whatever mysterious realm of existence I am stuck in. And because magic is well, magic, they always fit me perfectly. I've grown quite fond of Narcissa's little shrieks of consternation when her carefully crafted couture goes poof.

When Astoria moved in, I'll get to that sleaze-cow soon, I disappeared all of her knickers and watched with glee for two weeks while the insipid snob side eyed her soon to be father-in-law thinking he was to blame.

Death has made me a bit of a terror, and I am entirely okay with it.

I wish I would've embraced this carefree attitude when I was still alive. Wish I had possessed the ability to shed that damn incessant need to always be the clever one that seemed to plague my breathing years.

Anyways, right, Astoria Greengrass.

I Hate her.

SO MUCH.

I mean, how stupid could one witch be? She couldn't even manage to charm her clothes a different color, a damn first-year spell mind you. I would know. I watched her try to do it one too many times now, courtesy of me ghost-touching all her clothes that aren't red or gold.

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Most of my hatred for her stems from one thing in particular though, and unfortunately it isn't her ineptitude at being a functioning human. It's because she gets to touch my Draco.

Yeah I know, didn't see that one coming either.

You see when I first died and was zapped here, Draco was still on house confinement as punishment for his actions during the war. The first thing I saw when I blinked into this afterlife was him, and his beautiful, haunting eyes. He looked so utterly broken I couldn't bring myself to harbor any ill-begotten feelings for him anymore. It took me longer than I'd care to admit before I got the hang of this mostly ghostly business, and I spent the first two years dutifully following Draco around -seeing his life, witnessing the breakdowns he thought were his alone in the dark confines of his room. I couldn't help myself: I could only leave the manor if I was touching him and him only. I figured I wasn't genuinely intruding since I was obviously his ghost. Somehow he is the reason I remain in this state of not-being, forced to stay in this damn Manor, that I know I complain about often but secretly love. I spend an embarrassing amount of time clinging to his firm, far too muscular to be real, back. My transparent arms wrapped snugly around his neck, my thighs around his waist and my face nuzzled in his throat.

I really wish I could smell him.

It's not creepy.

Because it's not like the sexy snake can see me. I did feel remorseful about intruding, at first. Especially when Draco started dating and I tagged along. Let's just say I've seen my fair share of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelorettes on their backs singing my Dracos well-deserved praises. Though, the fact I had to touch him, or I'd be painfully jerked back to that god's forsaken manor, did mean I got a real up close and personal look at all their lady bits. As well as Draco in all his unrivaled naked glory. I mean, sweet biscuits the man was cut like a Greek God and those scars on his chest and that forbidden mark on his arm, mouth flubbing watering.

I wasn't even ashamed of it anymore. Death has also made me a voyeuristic pervert, something I am also ok with. I like watching because it's hot, and I can pretend for a moment it's me Draco is bringing over that sweet cliff of pleasure. I hate watching because I'm jealous it isn't nor can it ever be me. I'm a horrible glutton for punishment.

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He was a busy boy after being released from his house arrest and before Astoria. It's been a hell of a learning experience; I didn't even know humans could bend in such ways! At least then, he wasn't serious about anyone, and I didn't have to share his private moments with the annoying tittering of the airhead heiress he's gone and got himself engaged to. Which brings me slamming into the present and away from reminiscing about the good ole' days.

The engagement party I'm currently floating around is a lavish affair of the who's who of the wizarding world and the ballroom is expertly decorated. Golden chandeliers dripping in glittering crystals, an elven orchestra plays seductively eerie music, the ceilings are covered in silver vines intertwining with emerald roses that fade into a shimmering iridescent fabric that clings to the marbled walls. I wouldn't expect anything less from a Malfoy-Greengrass planned soiree. Astoria and Narcissa were practically the same person when it came to fluffing their reputation of being the best of the best and nothing would get in the way. I loved when parties were thrown here at the Manor, it was the bright shining spot in my otherwise lonely existence.

I decide to head towards the bar area and spot a couple of Draco's old schoolmates, Theo and Blaise, enjoying the spirits of the evening a little too much. I love drunk Slytherins. They are the funniest people; they don't get loud and obnoxious like us Gryffindors tended to do when pissed. No, they play tricks on everyone and gossip like lovestruck teenagers.

"Did you bring it?" Theo asks Blaise, who is tipping a bottle of near-empty bottle of wine to his lips."

"Of course." Blaise smirks and pulls something from his coat pocket. I let myself merge with him, popping my head through his chest to get a proper look. Ghosting had its perks, after all. My eyes grow wide, and a colossal grin spreads across my face when I finally see what he's holding. Mother flubbing Veritaserum. How Blaise got his hands on such a large quantity was a mystery; he makes his way towards the waiters passing around glasses of imported champagne, and I'm far too excited about getting to eavesdrop on all the juicy information that was sure to be pouring out of all the unsuspecting partygoers mouths.

Not even twenty minutes pass and the first fight breaks out, I zoom towards the blur of fists and hexes and find myself face to face with a red-faced Lavender Brown crying about how sorry she was for whatever it is she's feeling guilty about. I look into the tangled mass of bodies swinging at each other and see Cormac Mclaggen and Seamus Finnigan.

"You stay away frahm me woman!"

"She was mine first, and if you knew how to treat her like a bloody woman, maybe she wouldn't seek me out every time your pathetic dick leaves her wanting more."

Ouch, Cormac was really giving it to poor Seamus. He delivers a final blow to the chin of the stumbling Irishman, and it's night night for Seamus. As soon as their fight ended, I hear Astoria shrieking from the balcony above me. I know that high pitched sound intimately, having caused it a few times by causing her wedding dresses to vanish continuously. I have a fabulous collection now and like to lounge around the Manor in them, case in point, I'm wearing dress number four right now. A tight Ivory Lace number that melts on my body like butter and would definitely have me falling down with every step if I were alive. I even sport the cathedral length veil she had picked out.

Being dead also makes me dramatic, evidently.

I float upwards and see Astoria and Draco in the midst of a heated argument. He looks torn, hurt even and she looks guilty as sin. My eyes narrow at the pouting witch and her next words have me flying at her in a not-so-blind rage.

"Yes, well, regardless of my wandering bedroom habits, the contract is still ironclad. There really is no reason to continue dwelling on this one indiscretion. We have a lifetime ahead of us, and I would think you'd rather spend it fucking me as opposed to hating me."

That rotten bitch!

If I can just get my damn hands to corporealize, I can end her stupid existence. I channel all my errant energy into making my hands solid as they keep helplessly sliding through her skinny neck. Huffing in disappointment as I try over and over again, I let out a frustrated scream. I hate being a damn ghost sometimes.

"Ah, but Astoria," Lucius materializes out of nowhere like he's bloody Batman and I leap away from the now trembling brunette, "In the event of an indiscretion before the nuptials, and there is supporting evidence, as well as a confession, then the contract is null in void."

The contract in question pops into existence, and tiny words at the bottom of the ten-foot parchment begin to glow bright red; flames shoot out from the angry words and encase the entire thing in an undramatic sizzle before disappearing into a small puff of smoke.

The smile on Malfoy senior is sinister enough that even as a ghost I get a chill up my non-existent spine.

"Did I mention," he purrs, walking toward Astoria and clicking his cane on the hard floor, for dramatic effect I'm sure, "that the wronged party also receives all business holdings, bonds, trusts, and vaults that would have otherwise been theirs had the marriage moved forward?"

Score one for Malfoy senior, I smart a snarky grin at the crying harlot as she tries to sputter out an apology.

"Don't even bother." Draco says, holding up a hand to stop her needless show of dramatic pleas, "I want you gone, out of my house, and my life. Fuck, just leave the whole damn country, and I won't enforce my right to your and your families finances."

Draco turns to leave, and I make to follow him, casting one last look at the visibly angry Astoria glaring daggers at Draco's back. She is not going to let this go easy; I can see that plain as day and hope they are fully prepared for the bitter woman's revenge.

Ten minutes and a fire whiskey bottle later, Theo and Blaise meet us at the entrance of the fourth floor, which is their floor. The one designated off-limits to anyone but the Emerald Trio, Theo's not-so-clever name for their little group.

"Well, boy's I'm single again. What joy! What good fortune!" Draco announces dryly, a hand on his chest and the other running through his mussed silky hair. The two undoubtedly responsible for whatever words spilled from Astoria's traitorous lips at least looked somewhat ashamed for whatever drama they caused tonight.

I wouldn't have.

The cow had it coming, treating my Draco like some sort of prize to set on her trophy shelf instead of loving him for the kind, caring, and downright sinfully sexy man that he was.

"We heard. Your mother just walked out to the middle of the ballroom and Sonorused-Get out of my bloody house, the engagement is over. I'm sure the papers are going to love that." Theo confesses, and Draco grimaces immediately.

"Fucking shit. Mother never loses her composure like that." Draco groans.

"Well, it probably had to do with Astoria trying to keep that huge Malfoy Heirloom of a ring on her finger as she stormed out." Blaise offers and Theo and Draco both say, "Ahhh, that would do it."

"What happened exactly?" Theo asks while he settles into a plush recliner against the wall and summons a bottle of liquor from the cart beside him. The amber liquid sloshes in his thick crystal glass, and I wish for a moment I could remember what brandy tastes like.

"I honestly have no idea. One minute we were laughing with Pucey and his date, the next she was telling Adrian how much she loved the way he fucked her before the party." Draco sighs, leans against the wall and lets his heavy head hang forward. "She banshee shrieked when the words came out like she hadn't meant to say it, but the damage was already done. Adrian was fucking grinning like the cat who got the creme and prattling on about how he loves the birthmark on her thigh."

Blaise whistles and takes purchase on the leather couch located in the middle of the room they wandered into; the fireplace roars to life behind him. I see him set his wand down and am instantly impressed with his quick spell work. I know the warmth of the welcoming heat is just what Draco needs and smile at Blaise. His my favorite of Draco's friends.

"What are you going to do? The papers will swarm like the flock of pesky insects they are and I don't think your money's going to get you out of this one. The scandal and notoriety associated will be far more tempting than even your pockets can afford." That's Blaise, and he is no longer my favorite. Making my Draco realize how hopeless the situation is, is not what I call being a good friend. If glares could kill, Blaise would be six feet under right now with the intensity I swing his way.

"I don't know. I told her to leave the country, and I wouldn't stake my claim on her livelihood, and I meant it. I hope she takes the offer, and the heat of the situation with her cheating arse as she flees." Draco pushes off the wall and takes a full glass of brandy from Theo's proffered hand on his way over to Blaise. He throws the whole drink back and like a scene from a bad movie smashes the glass into the flickering flames of the fireplace. Draco sinks into a leather cushion and Theo levitates a new glass of liquor towards him. He plucks it from the air, and this time, sips at the contents. I settle into his lap and wrap my arms around his stiff neck, hoping the comfort somehow breaks through and helps ease his broken heart. Astoria did not deserve this man, not even for a minute.

"I have a villa in Tuscany, it's hidden with a Fidelius charm so you won't have to worry about anyone from the media, or from the Greengrass camp, finding you. You should go there for a little while, at least until the news dies down some." I know Theo means well, and his heart is in the right place, but that plan majorly blows. For entirely selfish reasons and I don't care how that makes me look. A vacation is no fun for a ghost who has to touch the vacationing party to even go. Sure, it works for a few days but inevitably Draco always manages to disconnect from me in someway and then it's the boring old Manor until he returns. If I can just be one of those spirits who could touch things, I know I can help him get over that trashy witch of an ex. I was a virgin when I died, yes, but I've learned a lot of things over the last ten years peeking in on Draco's bedroom antics and have every confidence I can rock his world and make him forget all about Astoria I'm an ungrateful cow Greengrass.

"I think you're right."

Double darn, I knew he was going to say that.

A/N: It's been awhile, and as much as I wished I was able to come out with a new chapter for the stories I had started, I couldnt get the muse going for them. I really hope you all enjoy this new story, I have a couple chapters ready and will be aiming for every three week updates. All mistakes are my own, as I'm currently winging it without a beta or alpha, but I hope it's up to snuff. If you find any grammatical issues then please feel free to shoot me a pm.