This is my first time trying something for the Harry Potter fiction department. I've had this in my head for quite a while, and hoped to put it out there and hopefully it receives good response.
So, I believe a disclaimer is in need! None of the characters of Harry Potter belong to me, but instead belong to Miss J.K. Rowling.
With no further note, I hope you enjoy this short prologue!
"I don't think that's what you were aiming for."
Neville jumped, twisting so violently that he stumbled. The room, besides him, was completely void of life—at least, it appeared to be void of life.
"Who's there?" he whispered. He lifted his wand, ready to cast a spell at talking shadows, but nothing happed. Neville shook his head. "Way to go Nev. Now you're hearing voices!"
He began again; trying to think of the happiest thing he could think of before shouting out; "Expecto Patronum!" Like the last time, a spray of silver mist was the only thing he managed. Neville grimaced. He was never going to get this.
"Your memory isn't happy enough."
Neville breathed out deeply, keeping still for only a moment before letting out a loud "Expelliarmus!" to one of the shadowed corners at which the voice appeared to come from.
"Well, good news is, you can at least perform the disarming charm." And from behind him, appeared a silvery head, complete with round glasses and startling greenish-silver eyes. Neville jumped, pointing his wand at the figure.
"W-what are you?" He managed to squeak out, hand shaking slightly.
The boy, because he couldn't be anything but, gave him a pointed look. "What do you think I am?" He folded his misty arms and Neville could see a Gryffindor badge peak from the edge of arm.
Neville swallowed. "Do I know you?" And after Neville decided that surely it was a ghost and had no power to cause him any pain, he felt slightly bolder.
"I don't know. Do you?" The boy seemed to give him a calculation look and the silvery emerald eyes looked nothing, if not devoid of life. He was shorter than Neville, but not by much, and he was thin with a mess of—black?—hair to finish off a defiant look.
"I don't think so." Neville finally decided. Surely he'd remember this boy if they were from the same house. He had heard of Moaning Myrtle whom had haunted the girls' lavatory for fifty years now, but he never remembered hearing about a Gryffindor boy dying or heard of anyone talking about a Gryffindor ghost other than Nearly Headless Nick.
The boy seemed a bit surprised. "Really?" he pondered. "I thought maybe…" He didn't bother finish, instead seemed to give Neville an insignificant glance. "Anyway," he continued. "You'll never be stopping dementors with that excuse for a Patronus."
Neville flustered. "Any you could do better, couldn't you?" It came out as an angry shout.
"As a matter of fact, yes I could." The boy said calmly. "I managed mine in my third year. What are you now, a sixth year?"
The boy-who-lived stood embarrassed. Surely a ghost that looked to be younger than him hadn't just told him off.
"Look," The boy finally said after the few moments of silence that elapsed between them. "I'll help you because I need you to hurry up and beat Voldemort if I ever wish to get out of this place." Behind him, the ghost boy heard a sharp gasp come from Neville.
"What is it now?" The ghost's frustration seemed to play on the climate of the room as the room became slightly colder.
"Y-You said his name!"
The boy didn't deem him worthy of a response it seemed. Instead, he placed a hand to clasp the bridge of his nose and said; "We've got a lot of work to do." And before Neville could say more, he vanished from view, leaving the sixteen-year-old boy to himself.
Neville shook his head. "Maybe I'll find that I was dreaming come morning."
(TBC)
Well, that's it for now. If you enjoyed, please leave me a review!
Till then,
Kohana