Written for:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)
Religious Education: Wiccan Ritual Tools
[JANUARY EVENT] Bath Bomb Making Workshop
Ravenclaw Insane House Tracker (2019)
[WINTER] SEASONAL CHALLENGES THREAD
Prompts:
Task Two: Write about someone spending time with a ghost.
Ylang Ylang Oil - (character) Harry Potter
Black Pepper Oil - (character) Regulus Black
[relationship type] Frenemies
[family] Black
[era] Trio
[action] Making a potion
[character] The Bloody Baron
[location] Slytherin Dungeon
The emaciated bodies of witches and wizards long gone dragging him under a murky pool of water was the last thing Regulus Black saw before his lungs succumbed to the lack of air. He'd been trying to snatch a soul-piece, a horcrux, to weaken the Dark Lord so that he may be eventually defeated.
And he'd succeeded. Regulus had succeeded where many others would've failed. He'd beat the system, had his house elf take Slytherin's locket far away, and he'd even gotten a little cheeky too, conjuring up a fake version of the famed relic and putting a note in it, mocking the Dark Lord as far as he dared.
Even though death by drowning wasn't as glorious as he would've liked, Regulus had done it. It was an accomplishment that was solely his, not something his Gryffindor of an elder brother could claim to have done.
Many would say that his plan was a stupid and reckless one, but Regulus was proud of it. It was his way of making up for his stupidity, for not seeing sooner what a lost cause the Dark Lord was.
'A half blood with delusions of grandeur,' Regulus had thought before he lost his grip on consciousness. 'I will die for this, not because I have lost my will, but because I know that someday, someone will defeat you. You are not invincible. Your greatest gift will be your death. That is the truth.'
When everything faded, Regulus had thought his rendezvous on the planet Earth was over. In fact, he was quite sure of it, especially after being stuck in limbo for so long. But then one moment, the nothingness is gone and he's at Hogwarts.
'What?'
Regulus had graduated with ten NEWTS in 1979, two years after his brother. He hadn't been back since then, having joined the Dark Lord's forces at his mother's insistence.
Now, looking down at his transparent body form, he deduced his situation as quickly as a Slytherin - former or current - should.
'I'm a ghost. At Hogwarts. Lovely.'
He'd been very dry about the whole thing, floating to the Great Hall, wondering whether anyone would notice a new addition to Hogwarts' ghostly population.
No one did. Except for one.
He wandered into the Entrance Hall and saw a cluster of scared looking firsties huddled together.
'It's the beginning of the year.' He realized.
He circled the newest batch of students, but no one seemed to see him. He laughed, made faces, mocked a boy who looked like another one of Weasley's spawns (because why not?), and made sure to float through people, knowing the effect it would have on them.
Sure enough, the kids felt the classic 'cold water over head' feeling when Regulus made contact with them, but no one seemed to see him.
"Well, this is boring." He announced glumly, turning to leave.
A voice made him stop.
"What's boring?"
He turned around slowly, only to see Sirius' best friend staring at him. It was the insufferable Potter boy who'd replaced Regulus' role as brother in Sirius' heart. He scowled and was about to bite back a response, but his logic told him that this boy was far too young to be the brother-stealer, and besides, his eyes weren't right.
Regulus knew for a fact that his Aunt Dorea's son had hazel eyes, not emerald green.
Narrowing his own once-grey orbs at the boy, Regulus responded, "And what is it you?"
The boy shrugged, nervously patting down his robes. "I'm just wondering. I mean, being a ghost in a castle as big as Hogwarts must be really fun."
"Not when you've already been at said castle for seven years and know all its nooks and crannies." Regulus snorted.
"You know where everything is? Can you show me?" The boy had the nerve to look excited.
"No," Regulus huffed. "I have better things to do."
No, you don't, said the traitorous voice at the back of his head. You're all alone, and except for this boy, no one can see you.
Apparently, the Potter boy seemed to agree with the insipid voice in Regulus' head, because he shook his head in disbelief.
"You're a ghost; you can't have a job. Besides, nobody else can see you."
Regulus scowled at him, refraining from pointing out that Hogwarts' history teacher was a ghost, not wanting to be compared to the idiot who died in front of his fireplace without even realizing it.
"I still won't. Why should I? Even as a ghost, I can find better things to do than to show a boy around the school."
"You'll show me around because I'm the only one you can talk to. You're going to get lonely eventually, and since you're invisible to everybody but me, I'm the only one you can come to." The boy smirked confidently.
Regulus stared at him in slight disbelief, but before he could retort, McGonagall came into the Entrance Hall to lead the first years to their sorting.
"I'll see you later!" The insufferable boy grinned at him and waved, running off to the front of the line.
He was a Slytherin. The intolerable boy was a Slytherin.
If Regulus were alive, he'd be choking of shock right about now, proper pureblood mask be damned. His old friend, Severus - who Regulus deduced had become Hogwarts' potions master in the years following 1981 - seemed to agree, because he was looking like he'd just been stabbed in the nards.
There was a tentative applause from Slytherin's more neutral faction as the boy handed the sorting hat back to a shell shocked McGonagall, walking over to the table decked out in green and silver. He sat next to a boy who Regulus had discovered to be Theodore Nott and a girl he knew to be Daphne Greengrass, shaking hands with the two.
And then the intolerable brat looked up and smirked at him, wiggling his fingers in a mocking wave.
That night, during the Welcoming Feast, Regulus discovered he could hate someone more than James Potter.
"So ... where's the Great Hall?" The boy inquired as he tied his shoelaces.
"As if I'd tell you." Regulus snorted, reclining on one of the green sofas. He'd discovered he could make himself touch and feel things by will last night, after everyone had gone to bed.
"Fine, then don't. I'll lock you in the dormitory."
"I'm a ghost, Potter. I can float through walls." Regulus deadpanned.
"Not through ours, you can't." The cocksure brat replied confidently. "I heard Gemma Farley say last night that all the walls in the dungeons have been charmed to stop ghosts from walking through. Some Professor Slughorn guy put them in place after the poltergeist wouldn't stop bothering the Slytherins in the common room. And I saw you walk through the portrait hole, so I'm pretty sure the charm applies to you too."
Regulus cursed inwardly. For all his brashness, the boy could be observant.
"Fine," he sniped. "Get up now, or I'm leaving with the others."
The Potter boy grinned at him and shouldered his bag, walking to the portrait. Regulus floated after him, convinced he was in some hell dimension.
By the time they got to the Great Hall, Regulus was happy to say thirty minutes of breakfast had already passed. He'd led the boy on a wild goose chase, irritated at being bossed around.
"You can't play the master at his own game, Potter." He chided as they arrived at the Slytherin table.
"Shut up." The brother-stealer's brat mumbled, taking a seat next to a boy who looked disturbingly like Regulus' old acquaintance, Lucius Malfoy.
"Excuse me?" Mini-Lucius asked, looking affronted.
"Not you, Malfoy." Potter grumbled, digging into his breakfast.
"Whatever." The blonde boy scoffed, turning back to his friends.
As Potter ate, Regulus took the time to observe the hall. The Gryffindors, curiously enough, weren't as boisterous and loud as usual. Some, including a pair of ginger twins (more Weasleys?), could almost be described as sullen.
Bringing last night's sorting back to the forefront of his mind, Regulus remembered how the newest Weasley had been sorted into Hufflepuff. If he hadn't been too busy being horrified at the prospect of Sirius' godson being in Slytherin, he would've laughed himself hoarse.
Said Weasley was sitting among the 'Puffs, poking at his food, something that was apparently an anomaly for him, if the incredulous looks his brothers were sending him were any indication.
"Don't worry, Ron," the brother who was a prefect patted the boy's black and yellow robe hood as he passed by. "At least you're not a Slytherin."
The last statement was very clearly heard from across the hall, if the dark glares some of the snakes were sending at the Weasley were anything to go by. Regulus himself was wearing Glare of Promised Death #5, something he'd inherited from his harpy of a mother.
From the corner of his eye, Regulus saw a fifth year boy discreetly take his wand out.
"Depulso!" He hissed.
Weasley the Prefect, who by now was at the big double doors, went crashing into three bulky suits of armor who were very conveniently placed there. The metal fell on top of him, and the brave Gryffindor he was, the boy screamed.
The Slytherin table broke out into mean-spirited chuckles, and Regulus was surprised to say that even the Potter brat joined in midway through.
'Maybe this isn't so bad, after all.' He chuckled darkly, watching as the boy's brothers rushed over to him, glaring at the snakes, trying to see who cast the spell.
Terrence Higgs looked inordinately pleased with himself, and Regulus couldn't help but be pleased with the boy too.
After breakfast was done and over with, the Slytherin first years headed to Transfiguration. The Potter boy chose to follow his year mates, sending Regulus a covert glare as he did so.
No one noticed the cat sitting on the desk, in their hurry to take out their books and writing utensils. Regulus, of course, smirked at his old professor, remembering his own reaction the first time the woman had transformed in front of him.
"What are you smirking at?" The Potter boy asked, still sour about the chase Regulus had led him on.
"Never you mind, you busybody. My business is mine; I definitely shan't share it with you." The former Slytherin replied arrogantly.
Potter rolled his eyes and leaned back on his chair, turning to talk to Theo Nott; one of the friends he'd made last night during dinner.
A few minutes later, the bell rang, and chalk writing appeared on the blackboard.
Open your books to chapter one; read the first three pages and take notes on it.
Noticing this, the first years opened their books and started working on their assignment. The class was a mix of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins (both houses were comprised of hard workers), so there was only a smattering of complaints.
From his position in the front right corner of the room, Regulus saw two seats in the Hufflepuff side open.
'Two people are missing and McGonagall is still in cat form. This will be interesting.'
Regulus smirked wryly, knowing all too well what the stern professor did to skippers. She put no difference between new students and old ones, either; she expected them all to be competent enough to find her classroom.
Sure enough, five minutes later, Weasley the Hufflepuff ran in with one of his friends. They both breathed sighs of relief when they saw the professor wasn't there.
"Thank ..." Weasley began.
"Don't thank Merlin just yet, Mr. Weasley." There was a sharp voice from behind the red head, and a collection of audible gasps from the entire classroom.
Weasley gulped and turned around. His blonde friend looked terrified.
"We're sorry, professor, we got lost, and ..." The blonde sputtered.
"Save me your excuses, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Five points each from Hufflepuff for lack of coordination and time management. You could've easily asked a prefect for directions to my classroom. You instead chose to indulge yourself in breakfast, knowing you wouldn't be on time." McGonagall glared pointedly at the croissant poking out of Weasley's robe pocket. "Now, take your seats and begin your assignment."
Weasley and Finch-Fletchley sat down amid hostile Hufflepuff glares and amused Slytherin snickers.
Twenty minutes later, McGonagall deemed everybody done and had them start on practical. Regulus felt a wave of nostalgia as the firsties tried to turn matchsticks into needles, and kind person he was, he even helped Potter out.
"You have to imagine the matchstick as a needle, Potter. Tell the spell what you want it to do. Transfiguration is all about imagination and intent." He instructed.
Three minutes later, Potter had a pointy, shiny, silver needle.
Looking slightly misty-eyed, McGonagall gave the boy fifteen points for 'an astounding show of competence and quickness.'
"You're welcome." Regulus smirked, floating away to observe everyone else.
When the acid green goop splattered through him, Regulus thought he was going to die again. Pureblood dignity and the fact that Potter could hear him were the only reasons he didn't shriek.
"LONGBOTTOM!" He heard Severus roar.
The man was crouching on the ground, covering himself and several students with a hastily conjured shield.
When the goop was done flying places, Severus dispelled the shield and surveyed the damage. Longbottom and his partner - a bushy-haired muggleborn - were both covered in boils from head to toe, some of them oozing pus. Regulus saw his old friend snarl in anger, before storming to the Gryffindors and their melted cauldron.
The potions professor passed them and threw the classroom door open, and seconds later, he yanked a startled Ravenclaw prefect inside.
"Clearwater!" He barked. "Take the idiots to the hospital wing!"
"Yes, professor!" She blurted out.
The girl took out her wand and petrified the two Gryffs, afterwards levitating them out. Probably knowing how Severus got when he was angry, Clearwater ran like her behind was on fire.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor! No, sixty! Take another thirty for the damage! And twenty for the repairs that need to be made!" He snarled, baring down on the Gryffindors like they'd murdered his mother.
The red and gold faction stared at him with wide eyes, and Regulus felt a faint smile come on his lips. It had been awhile since he'd seen his old friend so furious.
"DISMISSED!" Severus finally roared, apparently having had enough of the first years.
He assigned all the Gryffindors to write 12 inches about their own idiocy. The Slytherins smirked at their rivals as they walked out of Severus' classroom scot-free.
Sometime later, having reacquainted himself with the castle, Regulus followed two Slytherin sixth years into the common room. He hadn't paid much attention to it last night, but he was pleased to see the layout remained more or less the same. Some of the furniture had been replaced and there were one or two new portraits placed above the fireplace, but it was the same old common room Regulus knew.
The hierarchical system remained in place as well, with the Leaders (one male and one female) sitting directly in front of the fireplace, their Court surrounding them. Slytherin had always been Hogwarts' political ground, where most fresh alliances were made, and Regulus was somewhat pleased to see the Potter boy already ingratiating himself within the system. Currently, the brat was sitting next to Mini-Lucius, his Parkinson suck-up, the Nott boy, and the Greengrass girl.
'Not bad, Potter,' Regulus thought approvingly. 'Not bad, at all.'
"Sit straight, boy. One would think your years in my House would've already taught you that."
Regulus jumped up incredulously, staring the ghost who had addressed him.
"Baron?" He asked slowly, not daring to be hopeful.
"Black?" The ghost said in the same slow way, his tone sarcastic.
"You can see me!" Regulus sputtered.
"Yes, I can see you, you bumbling fool!" The Slytherin house ghost huffed
"But how? Potter is the only one ..."
"Potter is not the only one who can see you, Black. Your being brought back was circumstantial, and not a lot of spirits knew when and where you would be returned, but I did. I conversed directly with Mother Hecate; she knows of your fool's mission to rid the world of the Dark Lord's soul. She wishes to help you."
"Help me?!"
"Yes, you idiot! Help you."
"But why would Mother help me?" Regulus asked incredulously. "All rites say we are all her children. She would never favor one if it harms another."
"Regularly, that would be true. But Thomas Marvolo Riddle has corrupted himself so badly that the Earth's crust shakes with Hades' rage and Thanatos' spite. While other gods don't usually interfere with our folk, Mother Hecate's Blessed, they have had quite enough. They wish to be rid of this dangerous spirit, who would damn the world to eternal ruination and set fire to centuries' worth of hard work." The Baron responded. "As for myself, I say Salazar would be ashamed of his descendant's murder crusade. Eterna was never here to wipe out Newblood. She was to be a last line of defense, if the mundane were to penetrate our walls."
"Eterna? Newblood?" Regulus asked confusedly.
His pureblood studies had taught him enough about the Greek gods to know that they were not to be taken as a joke. The fact that the Dark Lord had found a way to evade the afterlife would've definitely angered the death gods. But 'Eterna' and 'Newblood' were not terms Regulus knew.
"Eterna is Salazar's basilisk. Even now, she sleeps underground in his hallowed chambers."
"Basilisk?!" Regulus squeaked.
"Oh come off it, boy. We both know you aren't afraid of snakes. Besides, you're dead now. Nothing but an outright exorcism can harm you."
"Great. That makes me feel so much better." Regulus huffed, trying to gain back some momentum.
"I'm glad," The Bloody Baron waved him off sarcastically. "A Newblood is someone who is born of non-magical parents. In today's world, they're more commonly known as muggleborns, or 'mudbloods', as the higher echelons of society like to call them. Newbloods come from long dead pureblood families, who were reduced to squibs centuries ago."
"Right ..." Regulus murmured. "You said Mother would help me destroy ... him?"
"Help Harry Potter." The Baron said suddenly.
"What?" Regulus glared at him incredulously.
"Help him, boy. Harry Potter will be essential to whatever happens in this Merlin-forsaken war. The world has already changed much with your existence as a ghost, you can help it change for the better. You will not disappoint me." The Baron said commandingly, before dissipating into a ball of light and whizzing away.
"Nightmare," Regulus whispered, a few seconds later. "What a horrid, horrid nightmare."