His Coronation

"Once a sweet and charming boy,

Now shriveled and black, not a drop of joy,

To pride himself on his cunning mind,

He harnesses knowledge for another dark bind."

The Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw House, made her way down the stairs to a small unused corridor. She floated about this corridor when she was feeling more melancholy than usual. It was a nice little place that led into an indoor courtyard and although there was no sun there was a patch of grass and plants that grew pleasantly around a cast iron bench. She liked to sit on the bench and wallow silently alone, but today she was not alone. A student had followed her into her solitude.

"Oh, Tom, it is only you." She said looking up from her seat, her voice a little more sweet and warm then one would expect from a ghost. Tom smiled back and nodded. Tom was very handsome. With dark hair and eyes and a kind smile. He held his arms casually behind his back as he spoke,

"I did not mean to intrude, I was just hoping to join you." He said, having yet to step into the small courtyard. She smiled appreciatively,

"You're not intruding dear, you are welcome to join me." She did not speak with many students. In fact, most of her time was spent deliberately ignoring them, but she had become very fond of Tom, he wasn't like the other students. He seemed to care about her as if she were still alive, as if she was a person and not just the shadow of one. Tom stepped into the courtyard and sat down next to her on the bench. They sat in silence for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"I do not understand you, Tom." She said softly.

He smiled and looked at her curiously.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a little chuckle.

"Well" she began, "you are a youthful, handsome Slytherin boy with many friends and yet you take time to sit here with me and I do not understand why."

Tom smiled, and took a moment to think before he answered. "I think perhaps it is because I know how it feels to be alone, and I don't think anyone should have to feel that way. You will be here long after I am gone, the least I can do is keep you company with the days that I have to offer you."

A small silvery tear rolled down the ghost's cheek,

"I do not know what to say." She said with a small smile of disbelief, "Only to be even more confused as to why you are not in Ravenclaw." Tom laughed a little,

"Perhaps I should be." He said smiling at her.

"It would be a nice change from the drafty dungeon rooms." He added. It was her turn to laugh a little, then they both fell silent again,

"Thank you." The Grey Lady said after a while. Tom nodded and they were silent again,

"May I ask you something?" Tom asked. The Grey Lady nodded

"What's your real name?" The ghost looked a little taken-aback. She knew Tom to be very clever, and many students had guessed before now.

"Oh Tom, have you not a guess?" She asked with a slight giggle.

Tom smiled. "I do, but I thought it would be more polite to ask rather than point out possibilities without invitation."

"Well, I invite you." She said with another giggle.

Tom looked over at her. "My guess would be Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter."

The Grey Lady nodded.

"Very good." She said, "A pleasure to meet you."

Tom chuckled, but then his smile faltered,

"Helena, do you mind if I ask you a more personal question?" Helena looked curiously at him and nodded, "How did you pass away?"

She looked a bit solemn now, looking down at the grass.

"I didn't mean to offend you." Tom added quickly, "I was just curious, you don't have to answer."

She looked back up at him.

"No, no, it's fine dear, I just… no one has shown such personal interest in me before. It's nice. Most people have just badgered me about where her wretched diadem is." At this she looked over at him suspiciously, his smile always so genuine and sweet.

"Your death has to do with her diadem them?" He asked and she giggled,

"As clever as ever I see, yes, my death begins with my thievery of her famed diadem..."

And Helena told Tom her tale. About how she stole the diadem and how, after she ran away, her mother became ill and sent an old lover of Helena's to go find her, and in the conflict of their meetings he killed her, and then himself out of remorse.

"When I heard his voice, I hid my mother's diadem in an old greying tree in the woods, thinking that she had sent the Baron to get it back from me. A foolish girl I was." Tom nodded, and then tilted his head.

"Wait, Baron? He asked. "As in the Bloody Baron?"

Helena nodded.

"He wears his chains as punishment for what he did to me, as he should." She said angrily,

Tom nodded again,

"He is right to punish himself. It is a heinous crime to take such a beauty from the world. Though, I would be lying if I said I wish you were resting peacefully." He added.

Helena looked at him in surprise.

"Because I wouldn't be able to keep you company." he said.

Helena snorted. "You charmer" she teased.

And he laughed.

Deep in the forests of Albania, the sun began to set between the trees, filling the forests with an evening mist colored with the orange golden light of the sun. A shadow broke the light's veil, a figure walking among the ancient trees. His cloak disturbed the mist, making it billow around him as he moved silently.

He paced the lines of old growth and then stopped in front of an old greying tree with a hole in its side, perhaps where a squirrel had made its home. The stranger rolled back the sleeve of his cloak and reached inside and as he suspected his fingers touched the cold feeling of metal. He smiled to himself, as his long, pale fingers closed around it to pull it free from its earthly confines.

The metal turned out to be an old Diadem that must have been there for years, if not centuries and yet it showed no signs of tarnish, no signs of wear. He let the hood of his traveling cloak fall back as he slipped the Diadem on his head. Combing it neatly into his hair, before replacing his hood back over his head. Having found what he came for he made his way out of the forest, at the edge of which he unexpectedly ran into a young peasant woman,

"Excuse me, where might I find the nearest town?" He asked, his tone soft and kind. His smile was dangerous, and held an undeniable allure. The young woman blushed and pointed off to the south. So taken aback by this man that she could not find her voice which served her ill. Though it would not have done her much good as a flash of green light left her at his feet, lifeless.

He stepped over her corpse as the Diadem gave an inaudible scream, invaded by a vicious dark force, making the power already within it tingle and writhe. The stranger's face showed no signs of pain, but his body slowed for a moment as if something hindered his movement.