This piece is meant for entertainment purposes only and does not
in anyway signal ownership or access to JK Rowling, her work, or the Harry
Potter commercial enterprise.
Chapter One: The First Sighting
She first appeared on Halloween, a specter of unknown origin, drifting
sightless down the grand staircase at the front of the castle. There was
no awareness in her eyes, no rustle in the folds of her gown, no expression
on her beautiful face that spoke of anything other than the stillness
of death. She was deaf to the shrieks her presence elicited from the fifth
year students as she crossed them in the hall.
“Who the bleeding hell was that?” Ron whispered to Harry, who could only
shrug helplessly as his heart pounded in his ears. Hermione had gone as
still as a wax statue beside him, her own terror etched on her face.
“We’ve never seen the likes of her before,” Seamus stated as he picked
up his Herbology books off the floor.
“Is she gone?” Neville asked Parvati, who peeked through her fingers
and nudged Lavender to do the same.
Recovering her senses, Hermione tutted at the group. “Silly of us really,
to be frightened by a ghost at Hogwarts on any day of the year, much less
on Halloween.”
“She wasn’t just any ghost, Hermione,” Lavender replied. “She was new.”
“And dead pretty too,” Seamus added. “No pun intended.”
Privately Harry was doubtful that there could be anything new in the
ancient castle other than the annual addition of first year students.
In his fifth year at the school, Harry and his friends had discovered
more secret tunnels, ghostly residents, and nefarious characters than
they cared to brag about. He could see Hermione was thinking the same
thing as she caught his eye. Ron was still craning his neck around the
corner in search of the beautiful lady.
“Is she gone, you think?” Ron said as the group resumed trudging toward
the Gryffindor common room.
“With our luck,” Hermione replied, “no.”
The encounter had gained magnificent proportions by that evening’s Halloween
Feast. The mysterious ghost was in turns vengeful, mournful, silent, and
threatening… depending on who told the story. Even Harry had enjoyed recounting
the tale, with a few extra details for spice, to Hagrid and Ginny. Only
Neville had the sense, or lack of it, to admit that he had covered his
eyes the entire time out of pure fear. The buzz of student excitement
had reached such a pitch by dessert that the din in the Great Hall was
beyond measure.
The house ghosts, however, were less than pleased to hear of an addition
to their ranks. Ron let out a choked scream as Nearly Headless Nick popped
up through the table and the Plum Pudding.
“Cor! I hate it when you do that!”
“Sorry, lads and ladies,” Nick said, not in the least bit repentant.
“But as you claim to have seen this ghost…”
“We have seen her!” Parvati and Lavender cried. They succeeded in drawing
the room’s attention to their table. There was a general scraping of chairs
as students clattered up onto benches and table for a gawk at the conversation
convening at the Gryffindor table.
“I saw the banister right through her!” Seamus added.
“Impossible,” said the Fat Friar, who had drifted to the Gryffindor table.
“Every ghost in Hogwarts is registered in the English Association of Deceased
But Active Beings Directory. I keep the records myself.”
“Perhaps she’s new and doesn’t know the rules,” Hermione suggested.
There was a rather prim sniff from the Grey Lady. “It is still the height
of impropriety NOT to introduce yourself to the resident ghosts.”
“Newly dead, I presume,” said Slytherin’s Bloody Baron as he hovered
ghoulishly over the table. “They don’t always know they’ve passed on.”
“She didn’t seem as if she was all there, you know,” Ron said with a
tap to his forehead. “Perhaps she was barking mad before she died.”
The Bloody Baron sent the young man a baleful glare. “Until you have
died yourself, Mr. Weasley, you will never understand the desperate void
of the afterlife.”
Harry nudged Ron before he could give a tart reply, rolling his eyes
toward Professor McGonagall, who was hurrying down the crowded floor and
ordering wayward students back to their respective tables.
“Will some kind soul please explain what is so fascinating as to have
the entire student population of Hogwarts eavesdropping?”
“These students claim to have discovered an unregistered ghost at Hogwarts,
Professor,” intoned the Bloody Baron in his most ominous voice.
“We bloody well did see her,” Ron muttered.
“Nevertheless,” McGonagall said repressively. “I see no reason to create
such a commotion in the Great Hall. Sir Nicholas I thought better of you!”
If Nearly Headless Nick had been able to blush, Harry was sure he would
have purpled on the spot.
“I cannot allow this congregation to continue,” McGonagall said to the
ghosts.
“There is still the issue of our mysterious phantom,” The Fat Friar replied.
“We cannot countenance a break in the registry rules!”
McGonagall sighed in irritation. “Very well, if we must discuss it, let
us adjourn to a more suitable location.” She swept past them in a glorious
swish of tartan robes, leading them to the side door connecting to faculty
rooms. The ghosts immediately followed, quietly chattering to themselves
about the new development. Dumbledore was ushering the professors toward
the meeting, even sour faced Snape, and instructing Prefects to direct
students back to their own houses.
The fifth year Gryffindors gave a collective groan as McGonagall sternly
waved them to join the assembling professors.
“Here we go again,” Harry muttered to Hermione and Ron. “Why can’t we
get through a year without one of these scrapes?”
“What did the Baron mean ‘until you have died yourself’?” Ron said. “As
if I want to know such a fool thing!”
