I strode out of my stuffy room. Sometimes the smoke is too much. It's making my head spin and wonder if I could use conjured aurora lights instead. But then, I wouldn't See much of anything the universe might want to tell me. I sighed. Being a Seer can be a pain sometimes. I can't even get to choose what background effect I want to use to look all mysterious. I mean, why did the universe pick smoke as some conduit to the hazy visions it's giving me? Why can't it be pink mist, or better yet, sparkling dust? I need to take a breather. At this rate, I might look much older than I really am.
Groaning, I walked the three hundred or so steps from my Divination Tower down towards somewhere, anywhere where I could inhale fresh air.
On the way toward the Great Hall, I passed by the History of Magic classroom and wondered if I could get Binns to tell me anything aside from lectures on how glasses evolved through the ages.
I peeked inside the classroom. Nothing. He must be in his office. I sighed. If he could just remember… I shake my head. No, I guess it's better this way. Even if he does remember, it would just hurt more.
I passed by Minerva's office, the door was open- and there he is. My heart constricted. Of all the people he hadn't forgotten, it just had to be her. Her! She didn't even return his feelings when he was still alive but, like the martyr he is, he still loves her. It might sound romantic that his love for her went beyond the grave, but I think it's just tragic. Because no one will ever love a ghost- not when you can't touch any part of him, not when you feel cold every time he passes through you… But I must be the odd one out.
I leaned in near the door, taking care not to be seen by those inside the room, and eavesdropped. It is a shameful thing to do but I can't help myself. I want to know what they are talking about. I want to know what it's like talking to him when he can still remember the person he's talking to… and dream that I was the one he lavished his attention with.
Pathetic, I know.
"Binns, I think it was over thirty years ago. Honestly, your forgetfulness is progressing further. You know, you could take the time off… if you need it," Minerva said in a gentle but firm voice.
"I'm aghast that you'd suggest that, Minerva!" Binns protested. "You know that teaching is the only thing I'm left with." He's lying. He could never leave this place because of her.
"But what if you forgot the syllabus? If you mixed up the dates and names again? The students will fail their OWLS," she argued. "Why can't you just rest for a bit?"
She damn well know why. He's a ghost. They never need rest. They never need food. Even if they get tired of existing, they never get to leave on that train again once they reject the only way to The Beyond. His was a foolish choice. He came back for her. Even though he knows it's too late. Even if he knows his time with her is limited even as a ghost because, when Minerva dies, she'd definitely take the train to reunite with her deceased husband. He could only take his time looking at her, talking to her, and sighing a mournful breath because, try as he might, he'd never get to touch her. Not that she would let him either. She's way too in love with her dearly departed husband. He never really had a chance with her.
"You know why," he said echoing my thoughts. "I can't seem to do much else. I think it's definitely because I'm getting way too old."
My heart clenched. He forgot that he's not alive anymore. His memories are deteriorating after all these years.
"Right," Minerva coughed, generous enough not to remind him. "Well, I'm starving. Care to join me to the Great Hall?"
"I'll escort you there but I'm going to my classroom right after. I don't have any appetite today," he said, gallant as ever.
That was my cue to leave. I hid myself behind a statue adjacent to Minerva's office just in time. I saw them walk side by side, as if everything's all right. All the while, I was seething with undisguised jealousy.
One day it will be my turn to choose: to go or to stay. And even though he'll never see me as anything more than a forgotten memory, I know I'll always choose to go wherever he is. Always.
