Homemade Ghosts | s. snape

1.1

| 1.1. |

The latest runestone stood intimidating and stately in the middle of our darkened workroom. It was placed that morning in the center of a marble medallion encompassed with complex spells to keep the stone's magical influence contained. A ring of lanterns hung around it, casting flickering shadows in each cardinal direction.

The stone was tall, nearly as tall as me, with a rough-hewn face. Slanting runescript was inscribed near the rounded top in what I could tell with a mere glance was poetic verse. Beneath it swung the image of a hanged man.

I grimaced at it; Klemens beamed.

He turned to me, firelight dancing in his ice blue eyes. "Runic necromancy would be my guess."

Although we hadn't translated the runes yet, and they had faded too much for Klemens or me to read them right away, the picture made it clear. The hanged man could have hinted at some kind of curse if he were alone, but carvings of his grieving family standing near him suggested that the inscriber hadn't been thrilled with this particular death.

It was nice when they came with pictures—it took a lot less guesswork.

"Looks like it," I agreed.

"Wonder how common attempts at necromancy were back then. Never worked, and when it did, it didn't work well," said Klemens, thoughtfully. His Swedish accent made what he was saying sound pleasant despite the macabre theme. "Don't you think after bringing back a grotesque, horrifying, unnatural version of your loved one once, you wouldn't try it again?"

After years of working here, Klemens still had no idea who I really was. He would have no clue how often in my life I had wished there were ways to see my family again. At one point in my grieving, no amount of grotesque and unnatural would've dissuaded me.

I only shrugged. "I probably wouldn't try the first time. If they haven't come back as ghosts, then it means they don't want to be dragged back to the mortal world at all."

Klemens clapped his hands together. "Well! You can get back to your project, and Margret and Curtis can get started on any necessary curse-breaking!"

I went back to my side of the lab where my desk was, tools scattered haphazardly over the surface. I had been working on a cup with some Ale-runes we'd never seen before. I sat down as Klemens left the workshop to go the rest of our department where he'd find our curse-breakers. They'd make sure that working on the new runestone wouldn't poison us or cause our fingernails to fall out or something.

However, I had not been working on my own project for long before the door to the lab opened again. Only, when I turned around, I did not see Klemens, Margret, or Curtis. Instead, it was our receptionist, Elise, whose eyes were round, and face a little flushed. She certainly looked overly excited for a normal Tuesday afternoon.

"Hazel, you have a visitor," she said, her voice even squeakier than normal.

Confused, I crossed the room to follow the tiny witch back out into the hallway. We walked, passing several doors where more senior runic researchers were doing their work. Having been with New York Runes Research Agency for under five years, only I still had to work in the dark, often busy laboratory/artifact-holding room.

"Who is it?" I asked, curiously, looking down at Elise. I didn't want to get my hopes up.

"You'll never believe it!" she said. "You'll have to see it for yourself!"

It couldn't be.

"It's Albus Dumbledore! The Albus Dumbledore!" Elise said, apparently unable to keep it to herself. "I think he wants to offer you a position at Hogwarts!"