It had started not long after my husband and I got divorced. Sometimes I felt that I was going mad out of all the stress, but it was there, as clear as day; the haunting in my attic.

And it was getting worse.

"Marty clear up your dishes, they will be coming in a while," I said, bustling about the kitchen trying to get the dishes cleaned before our guests arrived. Marty, my moody 13 year old sulked and knocked Clara's bowl of porridge over as he picked up the tray.

"Momma!" my 6 year old cried and started trying to push Marty away.

"This kind of behaviour will not do! The investigators are going to come any moment now and I don't want them to think that we are the ones who are demented!"

"This wouldn't have happened if..." started Marty.

"Not a word!" I barked. I am always a wreck when we have guests, but this was different. We were finally getting some help (from people who didn't think we were barking) and I didn't want them to think there was something wrong with my family rather than my house.

Brrring!

"Oh God, they are here," I said to myself, more than anybody. Switching the dish-washer off and hastily wiping Clara's mouth with her kerchief, I hastened to open the front door while smoothing the front of my dress.

"Hello... Mrs. Ansted? I'm from 'Paranormal Researchers'. We had spoken on the telephone last week," a very pretty lady with bright red hair tied back in a ponytail, stood on my porch with a file in her hand and a sling bag around her shoulder. She was young, maybe in her early 20s and she wore a white shirt underneath a beige jacket and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. Her bright brown eyes were warm and friendly, but her demeanor seemed to be a little impatient.

"Yes..." I struggled to remember her name. "Gine-vra?"

"Call me Ginny," she smiled. "May I?"

"Oh yes... Of course," I let her in. I was so nervous that my manners had gone for a toss.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I'm sorry if I'm in a... right state, but managing two kids alone..."

"No, no, it is completely all right. In fact I just had a cuppa before coming here. Hi, kids!" she said, settling on the couch. Marty sulked and Clara greeted her shyly.

"Marty, where are your manners?"

"Hi," Marty shrugged half-heartedly. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Ginny scribbling something down in her file. Was she wondering whether all I have is a problem kid? However, she gave me a reassuring smile when she was done writing.

"Err... Have you come alone? Weren't you going to be a team?" I asked nervously, perching myself on the couch, next to my children.

She looked a little annoyed as she said, "No, actually the initial investigation is done usually by just me, but this time they have appointed another person to… err… assist me. But I just decided to come a bit earlier. I like to know my clients personally."

She seemed a little flustered and I thought there was something that was bothering her. Maybe she didn't like the fact that someone was being sent to assist her on this case. However, I kept quiet.

"So, before I start looking around the house, I would like to know something about you and your family Mrs. Ansted. This isn't my usual protocol, but as your case is slightly unusual, I would like to start with a few questions."

I gulped, "Unusual?" I muttered and glanced at my kids. My son was trying to look casual, but I could sense that he was interested in what this lady had to say. She had a friendly aura about her, yet there was something in her that could make a person rely on her to solve problems.

"Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Ansted," she said, reassuringly. "It is just…"

Brring!

The doorbell rang again, making us all jump. Ginny looked annoyed.

"I'll get that," I said, and hastened towards the door again, opening it. My breath hitched.

"Mrs. Ansted?" said the young man on my porch.

"Yes," I said breathlessly. I was annoyed at myself for sounding like a love-sick teenager. The man looked calm, yet I could sense turmoil inside. He had a quiet strength, and even though he was not overtly muscular he looked like someone who had gone through a lot of battles. His brilliant green eyes were startlingly beautiful behind square glasses and even though his dark hair was tousled, he looked very attractive.

"Hello, I am Harry Potter, from 'Paranormal Researchers'. I expect our team leader is already here," he said extending a hand, the other one being still inside the pocket of his long black trench coat. I took it, immediately noticing the roughness of his skin and his firm grip.

"Hello, Mr. Potter, please come in."

He stepped inside, spotted my hat-stand and immediately removed his coat and hung it there. He wore a dark grey jacket, with a light grey shirt inside and black trousers. He was lean and tall, and I found myself gaping at him. It is just because you have hardly had a social life after the divorce, I told myself firmly. He looked at me politely. I mentally slapped myself and lead him towards the living room. I saw Ginny squirm when he entered and something flash in his eyes when he looked at her. Even though they exchanged polite greetings, I felt that there was a tension between them. Maybe they used to date?

"Sorry I'm late Mrs. Ansted, but I was not notified when my team leader left," he said pointedly and sat beside Ginny. She squirmed a bit again. He smiled at the kids.

"No, it's all right. And you can call me Agatha," I found myself saying, and blushed. Ginny cleared her throat.

"So as I was saying, I would like to ask you a few questions about you and your family before we proceed. So could you tell me Mrs. Ansted, about your work and your relationship with your family?"

I didn't miss the way she said out my surname. However, I didn't comment.

"Well, I am a divorcee. My husband and I got divorced two years back because of personal reasons and I got to keep the kids. There are no grudges though, but it is tough managing everything on my own. Ted, my ex-husband, does come down to visit the kids every now and then and sends an allowance to the family, but still… It is not the same."

I paused for a breath. Ginny and Harry Potter were listening keenly. Ginny also took notes while I was talking and Harry seemed to be observing the house. The kids took a leave. They obviously did not want to hear all of this. I didn't blame them.

"Please go ahead, Agatha," prodded Harry Potter gently.

"I run the local departmental store. The plot was my father's actually. After his death, the land came under my ownership and Ted and I decided to open the store. Business has been good. Ted works as a developer at an IT company, so we never had financial problems. Even after we separated amicably, it was decided that he would send me a part of his salary to fund the kids' education."

"How have the kids taken your separation?" the question came from Harry.

"Well, Clara was too young to understand the gravity of the situation anyway, and even though she misses her father sometimes, she is OK with the arrangement. It has been hard for Marty, however. But sometimes I think that his moody behavior is just a part of teenage hormones."

"Do you have any siblings? How is your relationship with them and your parents?" Ginny asked, keenly.

"I am an only child. My mother had some complications during my pregnancy and I was born slightly premature, so they never had more kids. They were happy having me though, and we share a content relationship. We go to their house once a month. Clara loves to spend time there."

"Any cousins or other relatives…?"

"Well I do have a cousin, but she ran away from home a long time back, when we were in our late teens. She's my maternal aunt's daughter. Actually, she had an affair with someone her parents didn't approve of and after a lot of family drama, one day she was found missing. We tried searching for her high and low, but she was never found. There's a rumour that she has left the country and changed her identity, but nobody is sure. As far as Uncle Harold is concerned she is dead, but it depresses Aunt Hilda a lot. We never speak about that topic in our family anymore, it is a forgotten story. I doubt that her younger brother Justin even remembers her. He was just a preschooler when it happened."

Ginny scribbled down all of this intently. "What is her name, again?" she asked, not looking up.

"Roberta." I said, as Harry got up, looking around the house. It suddenly struck me that these two weren't carrying any gadgets or anything. In fact, Ginny wasn't even recording our conversation (it just seems faster and effortless, doesn't it?), they were being too traditional. But maybe I was being judgmental. I hardly knew them.

"So what exactly has been happening in the house, Agatha?" Harry asked, moving causally towards my dining room area. I stood up, torn between hosting a seated Ginny, and giving Harry my attention.

What has not been happening? I thought.

But as I opened my mouth to speak, a loud crash sounded upstairs followed by a scream from Clara. Horrified, I sprinted towards the noise.