Edgar Cloggs loved Quidditch, and that was a fact of life. He was an excellent player, always above par. It came as no surprise to anyone when he immediately signed with a professional team once he left Hogwarts.
Much as Edgar loved the game, however, he sometimes found himself longing for the days when he had played on his house's Hogwarts team. The Hogwarts Quidditch games were more relaxed, friendlier, relatively speaking.
Edgar knew what he wanted to do once his professional playing days were over. He wanted to apply for the job of Quidditch referee at Hogwarts.
Edgar Cloggs, Chaser, killed in training.
"It wouldn't have happened if he'd gone into the Ministry. If only he'd confined his career to the Hogwarts pitch," an aunt whispered, at the funeral service.
He felt light as he floated skywards, seeing his bloody and mangled body below, pressed against the stands of the stadium.
He found himself in an open space of white, stretching out for infinite miles, crowded with lost spirits, most of whom looked upset and shell-shocked.
"Welcome, Edgar Cloggs," a spirit floated towards him grandly. He looked as if he belonged to the upper-class of whatever kind of spirit society existed here.
"Is this heaven?" Edgar asked bemusedly.
"Funny how so many say that," the spirit inclined his head. "Humans, so willing to believe they have managed to do something good with their life. No, this is merely the processing centre of the afterlife."
"Will the, erm, processing, take a long time?" Edgar questioned.
The spirit waved a hand. "Not for you, sir! For these poor Muggle spirits, I'm afraid so. But you, Edgar, you're a wizard! And it is now time for you to face a most important choice. Not the most important choice of your life, however, heh heh."
The spirit glided away, motioning for Edgar to follow him.
They came to a courtroom area, which only came into view when the pair had come very near to its vicinity.
Fifteen spirits were seated in what resembled a jury. Each was whispering to one another, and several spirits looked a little impatient.
The spirit who had come to welcome Edgar bowed before the spirit jury.
"I present Edgar Cloggs, to make his choice and be judged before the Spirit Council," he intoned, somewhat dramatically.
The spirit of a young witch, who was seated in the center of the jury, rose. She nodded to the welcome spirit, who glided over to a seat on the side of the court.
"Edgar Cloggs, you have been brought before the Spirit Council to be judged. Your judgement shall decide where you belong in the afterlife. Whether you go to Heaven, Hell, or like most, somewhere in between."
"However, should you feel that you are not ready to move on, or that you did not amass enough merits in your life to move anywhere beyond Hell, you may choose another path. You may choose to go back to your past life as a ghost."
Another spirit rose.
"Before the Spirit Council allows you to make this choice, we must warn you of several consequences of choosing to become a ghost. It is a very painful process, indeed, a process which is not always successful. You do not have the power to choose the place which you will haunt. You must allow the mortal parts of your soul to call you back to the place which you are most connected to, to the place in which you feel you left something uncompleted."
"We also warn you that if you do manage to leave an imprint of yourself on the world below, your ghostly self will still have feelings. Many ghosts enjoy themselves, as long as their friends and family are still alive. But remember, there is no reversal once you have chosen to become a ghost. You will still have feelings and emotions, and many ghosts find it difficult and regret their decision once they have seen their mortal friends and family pass on."
"Which brings us back to our question," the first spirit said, "Do you, Edgar Cloggs, wish to become a ghost? You will have five Earth-minutes to make your decision."
Edgar thought to himself. He still wanted to teach Flying and Quidditch at Hogwarts. It wasn't exactly possible to do so while he was a ghost, but he could find some way to help. Although, he wouldn't get to choose to haunt the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, so maybe it wasn't worth it.
But, was he ready to be judged by the Spirit Council? He knew he wouldn't get to Heaven, he wouldn't delude himself. But most people ended up somewhere in between, and that was what Edgar had hated about life, what had driven him to be better, to play Quidditch professionally, and make sure his Hogwarts House always won the Quidditch Cup.
"Your time is up," the spirit of the witch announced. "Have you come to a decision?"
Edgar nodded. "Yes, I want," he paused for a minute, "to become a ghost."
The witch nodded. "Very well,"
The spirit who had warned him about the process of becoming a ghost began to speak once more.
"Picture the place you would want to stay in for eternity, and allow it to 'call to you,' so to speak."
Edgar did so, and he felt the Spirit Council's courtroom fade away. He could hear screaming, screams of his own, mixed with the screams of spirits who would be forever stuck in limbo, between life and death, spirits for whom the process of becoming a ghost had failed.
He found himself, gasping, at the corner of the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch.
He straightened up, and found several ghosts floating towards him.
"Welcome, Welcome!" the Fat Friar smiled widely at Edgar. "It's so nice to have another ghost join us here at Hogwarts."
Years passed, and Edgar found himself wondering why he'd ever wanted to remain on Earth.
He helped Quidditch teams where he could, but most players doubted his ability to keep one team's training and playing style a secret, and so he found himself mainly helping first-years determined to look good during their Flying lessons.
One year, however, that changed.
It was early one morning, in the first week of the first term, and it was rare for any students to be up and about.
However, this young girl didn't seem to mind, and she walked alone, clearly busy with her thoughts.
She made her way over to the broom shed, and pulled out one of the ancient Hogwarts brooms. She surveyed the pitch, raising her eyebrows in surprise when she saw a ghost 'standing' at one end of the pitch.
She certainly didn't seem shy, as she walked over to him.
"Hi. Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm the ghost of Edgar Cloggs."
"I've heard that name before somewhere," she murmured, narrowing her eyes as she tried to remember where she knew that name from. "Oh! I know! You're on one of the Chocolate Frog cards." She smiled in satisfaction.
"Yes, I am,"
"The card said that you like to help Quidditch teams practise." She not-so-subtly hinted.
"Do you want to try out for the Quidditch team this year?" he asked her.
"First I need a decent broom. Is that too much to ask?"
Edgar chuckled. The young girl reminded him of his own younger sister, from many, many years ago.
"I'm afraid I can't help you in that regard. What's your name, by the way?"
She hesitated for a minute. "Ginny Weasley." Her tone implied she didn't want to be questioned on it.
"You're in your second year, aren't you?"
"Yeah," she kicked the ground. "I suppose you know that because of last year, not because you know every student and keep tabs on all of them?"
"No need to get so defensive, my dear. I certainly won't be holding it against you. When you get to stick around as long as a ghost, you learn that it's not worth your while to bear grudges for small indiscretions."
"Small?" she snorted. "I'm glad one person thinks it was a small mistake. I nearly killed people, for Merlin's sake!"
"As I understand, you were possessed, meaning it wasn't your fault."
"It was!" she insisted. "If I hadn't picked up that bloody diary, if I'd listened to my dad harp on about that sort of stuff, and his job, just once in my life…"
"Must you?" Edgar asked, a little rudely.
"Must I what?"
"Must you blame yourself? Ah well, it seems to be the way of so many people in this world."
"I've got some advice for you, young lady. Let it go in your own mind, and maybe other people will too." Edgar interrupted. "If people see that you've moved on, and that you're not going to bite their head off, they'll become more comfortable around you."
She hesitated. "Maybe." She looked at her watch. "Anyway, I'd better go to breakfast now! See you later, thanks for the help!" she called over her shoulder as she jogged away.
A sort of mentorship and friendship went on between Edgar and Ginny over the latter's Hogwarts years.
Edgar felt pride when he watched Ginny secure victory for Gryffindor, and relief when he realised she was still alive at the war's end.
When Ginny's son, Albus, became Quidditch Captain, and came to Ginny for advice, she reassured him, and told him of an old, lonely ghost who'd be happy to help with practices and give the first-time Captain advice.
A/N: Written for Qudditch League. (Beater 1, Bellybats)
Prompts: "Must you?" and "Is that too much to ask?"