A/N - This is my Round Two fic for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition writing about a friendship between two Hufflepuffs. I used the optional prompts: Mirror; 'Boyfriends and girlfriends will come and go but this is for life' - Phoebe Buffay, Friends (though I paraphrased a little); Force; (opening sentence) It had been a very long day; Holding.

It had been a very long day. If he weren't dead he'd lie down, shut his eyes and try to pretend that this day had never happened with the oblivion of sleep.

As it was, he resigned himself to floating aimlessly through the corridors of Hogwarts, trying to convince himself that he couldn't feel the fore of the judgemental stares of the portraits following his every move.

Without any conscious thought, he found himself lingering outside the Hufflepuff Common room. It was a place he usually found comforting, a reminder of his own days at Hogwarts, and the students were always welcoming and up for some light conversation.

At this hour, though, the students were all likely in bed and the fire reduced to nothing. He'd never particularly liked empty rooms, especially not during the middle of the night; a left over fear from when he was alive, perhaps. There was no need to be afraid of the ghosts lurking in the shadows anymore.

With a sigh, he passed through the barrels and entered the Common Room.

It was as he'd suspected; completely deserted, the dying embers of the fire only emitting the barest of glows. It was worse during the summer, with absolutely no traces of the students who would call this place home from September through June – no quills left forgotten on the tables, or spare rolls of parchment having been dropped and left where they landed; no traces of life.

That didn't help alleviate the eerie feeling caused by the empty room. He'd always felt it should be full of life, and in the darkest hours of the night it was anything but.

He drifted further into the room, and it was only when he reached the fireplace that he noticed the figure hunched awkwardly in the armchair, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting on the armrest.

He recognised the boy instantly, of course he knew ever student in his house – he prided himself on that – but this was the first Weasley he'd had in longer than his memory served him. And with this new batch Nicholas had one less family name attached solely to his house and less guaranteed students. He'd been holding that one against them all for centuries.

The boy let out a single snore and made as if to roll over, arms flailing as he awoke mid-descent and landed on the floor with a thud, the sound of which was quickly oppressed by the silent room.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked blearily as he looked about the Common Room, not noticing the ghost by the fireplace at first glance.

"Hey," the boy interrupted himself with a large yawn, "I don't normally see you around here at this time."

"Are you usually awake at this hour?"

"Well, no. Not really." The boy pulled himself to his feet using the seat of the armchair, stooping over it as – presumably – the blood rushed to his head. It was not an experience he'd experienced in a very long time and he'd almost forgotten what dizziness looked like.

"Shouldn't you be off to bed, then?"

"Are you okay?" The boy ignored his question entirely.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you okay? You looked... I don't know. Kinda sad, I guess." The boy mumbled through another yawn.

"Sad?"

"Yeah."

"I'm a ghost."

"Yeah. So? That doesn't mean you can't be sad."

He didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't that he didn't feel emotions – quite the contrary, really – but rather that no one had ever bothered to ask him how he was feeling in all the years since he'd died. It was a little disconcerting, but not unpleasantly so.

"... you can, can't you?"

"I can what?" He didn't think the boy had spoken while he was thinking, but he was a little unnerved and hadn't quite followed the chain of conversation.

"Be sad. Or happy or whatever. I don't know. I'm tired."

"Of course."

"So... What's up?"

"Up?" He only just managed to refrain from staring at the ceiling – he'd fallen for that one before, much to the amusement of a couple rowdy fourth years.

"Release the feels."

He was beginning to think this boy was more than a little insane.

The boy mirrored his confused stare for a moment before grinning widely.

"C'mon. You can tell me. It'll be good. Like free therapy. If fourteen year olds were able to become licensed therapists. Separate issue, really."

He continued to stare blankly at the boy.

With a sigh, the teenager flopped back down into the armchair.

"Hi. I'm Louis Weasley, and I'll be your therapist for today. Just sit down over..." he made an abortive gesture towards the sofa but stopped himself when he saw the expression on the ghost's face. "Or stay standing. Up to you, really."

"What, exactly, are you hoping to achieve?"

"Y'know, you're normally a lot nicer than this."

Steeling himself, her drifted closer to the boy – Louis; the name had quite slipped his mind – and gestured for him to continue.

"That's it, really," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "You're supposed to talk now."

"About?"

"Whatever you want."

"I don't want to complain."

"Feel free to vent away. I'm here, I'm mostly awake and I have the memory of a sieve."

"How does that help?"

"I don't know." He yawned and settled himself further into the chair. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just thought it might help..." he trailed off with a yawn.

"And I appreciate the gesture. But you have helped. Quite taken my mind off it, really."

"Well, girlfriends come and go, but this is for life," Louis murmured around a smirk, as if he'd said something mildly amusing.

"I'm dead."

"It's a quote. From Friends. I guess you don't get much TV around here." He watched for a few seconds and Louis clearly struggled to keep his eyes open, head falling to his shoulder as he regarded the ghost through half-closed lids. "You should get someone on that. Do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to catch up over summer?"

When Louis yawned so wide his jaw cracked and his eyes stayed closed for a good thirty seconds longer than they needed to, he checked the time and was mildly surprised to note that it was well past the early hours of the morning and nearing time for the beginning of breakfast.

With much complaining from Louis, he finally managed to usher the boy upstairs and into the correct bed – finding the right dorm room had been harder than he'd anticipated, as Louis was absolutely no help.

"I'm hungry." It came out muffled by the pillow Louis had landed face first on.

"I'll have the House Elves send you something when you wake up."

"Thanks. You're a true friend," Louis said without bothering to move at all from his position sprawled on top of the bed. The sentiment sent an impossibly warm feeling coursing through his chest, regardless of however slurred it had been.

Instead of acknowledging Louis' words he turned to leave, suppressing his smile but allowing it to show clearly in his voice.

"Don't be late for class."