Alive for You (A Marauders Era Love Story)

"He's pretty cute." Isadora mused dreamily, dazed, her eyes intent and luminous, bright green, but with the pallidness that results from death. She watched as a dark haired boy, with handsome brown eyes and his tie hanging out rebelliously just a bit over his robe passed by her. He didn't look at her, though- he didn't even take a second glance in her direction. He was acting as if she didn't even exist. 

"I guess so." I sighed tiredly as I fell onto the blue couch behind me, my head on the extra comfortable silver pillow that was cold and relaxing. Isadora continued to watch the boy, trying to nonchalantly catch his attention, in vain,  and I took a long, deep breath, dreading what I knew was to happen inevitably. I really didn't want to do this. I hated doing it. "Isadora... you know that you two won't get together, right? I mean, you can't." I mumbled. I was not the kind to be assertive, or strong. In fact, I was probably the polar opposite of that. 

"Why not?" Isadora hissed, looking offended and extremely like the students that wore green and silver- the Slytherins. It was kind of scary, seeing a Hufflepuff channel this much hate, this much fierceness. Excuse me if I am being stereotypical, and a bit rude, but Hufflepuffs were usually marshmallows, lucky if they could escape the grasps of a mean Slytherin, or even say no, for that matter. It was a surprise that I wasn't a Hufflepuff. Her bright, yet slightly faded and clouded, green eyes widened into nearly complete circles as she looked at me with the hate of a hundred demons straight from hell itself. She always forgot. And I always had to explain. And explaining was the hardest thing to do in the world, one of those things that doesn't get easier with time, even a whole five years. 

"Isadora... remember... he's alive. You two can't be together." I stated slowly. I was crushing her dreams, like I did nearly once a week. Maybe her memory was going, along with other parts of her. It happened with age.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. He can't even see me, can he? He's not like you." she said quietly, disappointed and looking as if she might just cry. 

"Exactly. Dead and alive do not mix. Except in my case." I sighed, not sparing her feelings at all. I was not exactly normal, so to say. I wasn't dead, I can tell you that. But I wasn't quite alive, either. I have a special gift. I could talk to the dead.

Isadora was dead. She had died in her fourth year at Hogwarts. I was currently in my fifth. We had been talking since my first year, when I noticed her shivering in the Great Hall, still dripping wet but not leaving a trail of water. She had a lonely look to her, and a sort of paleness to her, clouded like she was surrounded in a sort of mist. I knew that something was up, so I ran from the group to see what was going on. I tried to touch her shoulder- and my finger passed right through her body. I ran back to the horde of students before anybody had realized that I had gone. We had been best friends ever since. There were many ghosts at Hogwarts. Certain ones everybody could see- Helena Ravenclaw, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, Myrtle from the bathroom- but there were others like Isadora that nobody could see but me. It was hard- sometimes when people tried to talk to me I would be seemingly staring at the wall, even though I was usually listening to one of my dead friends. So... I wasn't the most popular girl at Hogwarts, obviously. Actually, I had few friends. Well... actually, only two that weren't dead. One was the nicest girl I had ever known. Her name was Lily Evans. Long red hair, emerald eyes that matched Isadora's, a personality that could melt snow and make flowers grow (in which she loved to do, actually. She had a little fetish for flowers). Lily had noticed me in the library in the first year, and we had been fast friends. We were the same, from our desire for intelligence to our hatred of James Potter, SIrius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. The other was Severus Snape. He was bullied, and it made me sick. He was really nice, but I think that he had a thing for me- like, that kind of thing. That made it a bit awkward. We had met under the tree by the lake. I was reading, and apparently Severus sat there all of the time, and I had stolen his spot. We ended up just sitting together and talking, earning disgusting looks from four boys. 

I rather liked being alone, though. At least being unnoticed, like a shadow in a way, was better than being bullied like Severus. All of the bullying came from four people, James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. Those four sickened me to no end. James and Sirius picked on Severus relentlessly. And then James has the nerve to ask my best friend out! Peter was always following them around, supporting them and encouraging them like a little lost puppy, like a gross little rat. And then there was Remus. Remus was as bad. He was always in the back with a book, never bothering to stop them. When he did try it was weak attempts. When you stay neutral to the fight, you side with the oppressor. Those four called themselves the "Marauders". It was a pretty cool name, I guess, but the members were sick.

What I found most amusing was that Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter were in every single one of my classes. And they still didn't know I existed. Once, though, I caught Remus catching a glance at me - and he smirked. I rolled my eyes and turned away from him.

But there was something that made me not want to look away. Something that made me want to keep looking at him, and for him to keep looking at me. Whetever this force was, I didn't like it. It was cintrolling me, every secind of the day, in every class, forcing me to take glances at him from the corner of my eyes. He rarely turned toward me, and I kept telling myself that I didn't want him to, that I didn't want to be looking at him, that we should both just look away and work on our work without the knowledge of each other's existence (well, I definitely knew that he existed, but he probably didn't know about me. Nobody did). Why would he need to notice the quiet little Ravenclaw girl who excels in all of her classes (except for maybe Defense against the Dark Arts)?  Who would need to know of the quiet little girl with the important, and now dead, father? Who would need to know of the little girl who could see ghosts? And was troubled and burdened by her father's death? And ashamed to have even known of Richard Cooper?

I wouldn't want to know her. 

And apparently, nobody else does either. But, I was perfectly fine with that. In fact, I was more than fine. Being alone was my shield, my defense.

Really, I wasn't alone. I had Isadora, and a boy named Randall, and Lily and Severus, and a girl named Ruth. Moaning Myrtle was even one of my friends, when she wasn't crying over some boy throwing something at her, which happened often.  I secretly thought that it was a bit funny, but I would never admit it. I can barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else in the world, because that was mean, and that would, is, hypocritical of me. I'm always saying that bullies are sick, but I think that its funny that people throw stuff at a dead girl in a bathroom. 

What was wrong with me?

Anyway, Isadora was my absolute best friend, since that September 1st of 1971. I had always had small fantasies of having friends, but I was happy with my ghost friends. 

Or was I? 

Yes, yes I was.