Dark Magic

Real Ghosts

The cubicle door to the girl's lavatory slammed closed behind me as I fell against it, sliding down to the porcelain floor. I sobbed, punching and kicking at the toilet in front of me with hefty grunts. It did nothing for the pain surging through my chest, eventually tiring me to the brink of coming to a halt in my fight. My eyes felt swollen and tight from the tears that had forced their way down to my cheeks, and the collar of my white dress was now damp around my neck from my crying. 

I gave the toilet one, final kick before my legs fell to the floor in front of me. "Ouch!" A small voice cried out, before a dark head of hair appeared through the seat of the toilet. The eyes of the young, ghost girl I had remembered the year prior found mine; angered, at first. But when she realised it was me, she grew concerned. "Emerald? What's the matter?" She asked, rubbing her head as though I had physically hurt her ghost form.

"Myrtle." I sighed, another tear rolling down my cheek as I reached to wipe it away quickly. "Nothing. Sorry to wake you." I sniffled, causing a huff to emit from her in frustration. "I haven't seen you all summer and I like to do a little bit of moping about, myself. I know when somebody is upset. What is it?" She pressed a little further. I shrugged in response, once more denying her the answer she sought, "I think I might be jinxed when it comes to Christmas." I forced a laugh, which somehow made me feel even lower.

The young girl turned angry, "You think someone jinxed you!?" She practically exploded out of thin air. I shook my hand, waving my hands in defence, "No, it's not like that. It's just a Muggle expression, that's all." Myrtle pouted in response, "I haven't heard that one before. It must be a new one, I suppose." She sighed innocently. I nodded, sending her a sympathetic smile in response. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you become a ghost?" I asked, hoping I hadn't stepped over the line.

Myrtle huffed, "I'm not sure, really. I think you have a momentary choice when you die; where you want to go. I suppose when I died I was so angry...All I could think about was staying and torturing the person that did it to me." My gaze averted from hers onto the floor, as I realised there were far worse things in the world I should have been worrying about, in that moment...

I had devoted so much of my time onto Professor Snape, I think a part of me was even starting to develop some sort of childish crush on the man...Nothing more than that, of course; I told myself. But the truth was, he was a very emotionally charged man; it was as though he had spent so much time trying to control his thoughts around me, that his emotions overcompensated. But only in front of me; in class, he was an emotionless, cruel man to his students...But not me. And there were far more important things to be concerned with, that a young girl did not even need to consider anyone else's feelings except for her friends and family...

"Do you think you would have chosen different, if you were given the choice now?" I asked, my eyes finding hers in the darkness of the lavatory. Myrtle took a long, un-required breath, pursing her lips before she answered finally, "Yes, I think so."

I left Myrtle in the cubicle, finding my way to a broken mirror by the sink that opened the Chamber of Secrets the year before. I looked a little paler than usual; small flecks of white hair beginning to make its way through the front of my hairline. And a small, barely noticeable scratch on my cheek. I ran the water, washing my face in attempt to bring some colour back and reduce the puffiness surrounding my eyes.

"Emerald?" I turned in the direction of the cubicles, Myrtle peeking out from her stool. "Yeah?" I answered. She sent me a small and reassuring smile, "Whatever is wrong; it'll get better." She promised. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, "What makes you say that?" 

Myrtle shook her head nonchalantly, "We ghosts have a way of knowing things. Time works a little differently for us." Her comment caused me to take a deep, recomposing breath; giving me the little courage I needed, in that moment. 

"Myrtle?" I called, just as she was about to disappear back into the toilet. She sprung out, her eyes finding mine once more, in the darkness. "Yes?" The ghost girl answered simply. I smiled, sending her a small nod, "You're a good friend."

And without another word between us both, I made my way out of the girl's lavatory and back in the direction of the dungeons. Instead of heading for the Slytherin common room, however, I found myself outside the Potion's classroom again. The door was locked this time, so I took my wand from my pocket and pointed it to the handle. "Alohamora." A small beam of yellow light flickered onto the lock as the door opened; you would think a Potion's Professor would think of a spell to repel such simple magic; apparently not.

The classroom was pitch black, except for a small light emitting from under the door of, what us students had always believed to be, a Potion's cupboard. Only it was Snape's private chambers. Shattered glass still sprawled across the floor, so I had to be careful where I trod to ensure I made no noise. "Reparo." I whispered, pointing my wand to mend the broken objects in the room. Silently, they fixed themselves, as I closed the gap between myself and the door.

My hands pressed against the *cupboard lightly, opening it to find a Professor Snape curled into a tiny, black ball on his bed. He was asleep, cuddling his arms tightly to his chest. The man, too, had been crying. Only, he was dreaming, in that moment. Soundless and completely devoid of any rage that he had felt earlier.

Walking towards him, I reached towards a small blanket at the foot of his bed, knowing he would wake up cold in the night, for the dungeons were always freezing; especially at Christmas. I pulled the blanket to his neck, tucking a loose strand of black hair behind his ear that had fallen across his puffy eyes. Without him even needing to mutter a word hinting to an apology, I found myself forgiving him. And I lit a candle in his room with a small charm next to his bedside, before leaving the room and retiring to my dorm...