A Chance Encounter | Fred Weasley

One-Shot: Ghostly

He was more surprised than anyone to be staring down at his own body.

"Wait–how–"

His eyes were glassy and his body was outstretched on the ground. His clothes were disheveled and his hair was still a moppy mess. His expression was indeed one of surprise, and he was sure his expression now was still the same.

Wait. How am I seeing this?

Michael started to look at more than just his own body on the ground, then his heart – or where he thought his heart would have been – felt like it dropped.

But...could he really feel?

His eyes wandered from his body to his arms, back down to his legs. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but the more he stared at himself in this new form, the more shocked he became. He could literally see through himself. His once sharp outline was now muddled with the air around him, his color changing from the various shades of pinks, cremes, and darker hues to different grays and blues.

He had become a ghost.

"MICHAEL!" a voice rang out through the hall.

Michael's head snapped to the voice. He watched as Roman ran to his lifeless body in the hall. Seamus and Neville had been right on his heels, but had slowed as Roman approached Michael's body.

The expression he saw on Roman's face was nothing short of heart breaking. It was the first time that Michael had seen Roman instantaneously start crying. He watched as his brother knelt down next to him to check for his pulse. When the beats never came, Roman brought his hand to his face and wept.

He could hear a set of footsteps leaving, noting Seamus' absence when he looked around the hall once more. The only person he could think that would be coming next was Clara.

Thinking back on his entire life, for having a sister he never really saw Clara cry. She and Roman were always too busy taking care of him and being strong for him to let those emotions slip out.

Michael started to panic for a moment, backing up until he could see a wall around his peripherals. Before he knew it, he had floated outside of the castle.

He stared wide eyed at the wall that was now six-inches from his face, then to his body once more, then back to the wall.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice came from his left.

He turned to see a woman with dark hair floating towards him. Her face was one of concern and worry as she looked upon her comrade.

Michael sighed as he looked at Helena Ravenclaw. Most of his friends knew her as the White Lady, but to him she was just "Helena". There were times when he'd stroll around random parts of the campus to clear his thoughts, and she would join him. Some days they'd talk, some days they'd just admire the beauty around them. He thought that she enjoyed the company — someone treating her as if she was normal. There were seldom any students who did that for her, as she had explained to him one day.

"I'm...I'm not sure."

She floated closer to him and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, not used to being able to reach out and actually touch him. "You're alright."

"Am I? I'm pretty sure I'm dead."

Helena nodded. "That may be true. Not everyone gets to come back, though."

"Why is that?" he asked her, still trying to adjust to the fact that he was now a Hogwarts ghost.

"No one is really sure. I assume that I'm here because of my mother..." She trailed off slightly. "As for you, I'm sure that there's something important that you still have to do. Or at least some way you can still help the students here. If not, then we wouldn't be having this conversation."