Hey there,

Hope you enjoy! Second chapter will be up in the next few days. BTW, I've decided that ghosts can touch ghosts, but ghosts can't touch people….just for those who might be confused.

Jettt

Prologue: Moaning Myrtle

'Ooh. That one's good looking', I whisper in the direction of my ghostly companion. Myrtle giggles and follows my gaze to where a sixth year boy is washing his hands. We're in the boys' bathroom, hidden behind an out of order stall. It's a common pastime of mine and Myrtle's. Yeah, I'm a Hogwarts ghost too, but I was a student only a month ago.

'What about that one?' Myrtle squeals softly, pinching my arm to get my attention. He's got red hair, a lanky build, reminds me of one of my other friends-besides the Bloody Baron and Nearly Headless Nick.

I don't mind hanging around Myrtle that much, but I miss my old friends, they don't have much time to come and see me, off saving the world, stopping You-Know-Who from taking over and, of course, preparing for their NEWTS, et cetera.

'I'd give him a seven out of ten', I say rather loudly, forgetting the need to be quiet. The boy turns, and his eyebrows almost reach his hairline when he sees two transparent girls staring back at him. He starts to open and close his mouth, gaping like a fish out of water. Myrtle and I duck back behind the stall, into the toilet and back through the pipes to the second-floor girls' bathroom.

We're almost out of breath from laughing.

'Maybe we should be more careful', I pant.

Myrtle just giggles. 'Wait 'til I show you the Prefects bathroom'.

'You say it like its some sort of Heaven'

'Oh it is', Myrtle bats her eyelashes at me and we both laugh.

We're silent for a few moments, but then Myrtle looks over at me, her eyes now serious.

'How did you die?' She asks. The mood quickly turns somber. No one had ever asked me that before, most students just see me as one of the Gryffindor house ghosts, nothing more.

'Well, Myrtle, the story is kind of long and boring….' I begin, hoping to get her off the subject. I don't particularly feel like reliving my living years

'I want to hear every detail', Myrtle says, sitting down hard on her toilet.

'Really, Myrtle, it's not that great of a story, quite boring actually'.

'Please?' Myrtle looks at me with large eyes behind her glasses.

I sigh, 'Okay then. My mum and dad were 17 when they first me-'

'No, no, just the relevant parts, I didn't ask for your life story, Jaz'.

'Um, then I guess I should start from last year.'

Myrtle nods and moves around on her toilet seat, getting comfortable. It's going to be a long afternoon.