Lucius Malfoy: Events: Ghosts
"I don't think I can handle this."
"I don't think you have much choice, darling."
Lucius was on his second cup of tea, and about to reach for something stronger. When he'd woken up this morning, there she'd been, standing at the edge of the bed, watching him with a soft smile. He reached for her hungrily, desperately, only to have his hands go through her. She walked toward the window, and in the morning sunlight she was translucent, almost transparent.
"You don't look like a normal ghost. Please don't be dead." he had said, pleadingly, as if begging could change anything.
"I don't think I am...I think I'm more like a memory."
She looked like Narcissa, talked like Narcissa. It was sweet torture, to be able to be sitting in the kitchen, conversing with his own dear wife, but not touch her, know she wasn't really there. She went from loving and kind to hurt and reminding him of his failures and her pain. The emotions running through Lucius were threatening to break him apart.