Prompt 21 - ghost
When Scabior was a little boy he liked to visit his grandmother, spending the afternoon in her enchantrd garden while butterflies flitted from flower to flower in the sunlight. Evey time he visited her a small, white butterfly would follow him throughout the house. Sometimes it would land on his shoulder, or walk across the kitchen table while he was eating lunch.
His grandmother had a fondness for butterflies, and had filled her garden with a variety of magical plants and flowers designed to attract them. The most beautiful specimen in her garden was a large tree with white blossoms that shone like opals in the sunlight. The butterflies would gather around the tree, sipping nectar from the flowers while sunning their wings.
The neighbors were in awe of her enchanted garden, and would visit from time to time to admire the beauty of the colorful insects and flowers. Most of them didnt see her for what she was, for there was a fair amount of muggles that joined the weekly visitors.
Scabior would smile knowingly as he listened to the muggles comment on Catarina's garden. Sometimes they would point and whisper, "Did you see that peculiar child with the butterfly on his shoulder?" Others were bold enough to ask how she did it, to which Catarina would respond, "Nature is a wonderful thing. We can study it for a hundred years and still not know the secrets hidden in the deepest, darkest corners of the forest."
Scabior continued to visit Catarina every summer until she passed away one evening in late summer. But even after she passed away, the magic of the butterflies and the enchanted garden remained.
He returned to her house one morning only to find the front door locked, with his parents trying every spell they could think of to open the door. They wanted in to retrieve her belongings, but no matter what they tried the door would not open.
As he watched, a white butterfly landed on his shoulder, and Scabior heard Catarina's voice whispering in his ear. He wasn't sure what she was saying, but he recognized her voice, and felt compelled to move forward, approaching the door as if he were in a trance. When his finghers touched the doorknob, a white light poured out from the crack under the door. Suddenly the door flew open, and out came hundreds of white butterflies.
They rose like a cloud, swarming around him before making their way across the yard and landing in a nearby tree. When Scabior looked through the doorway, he saw the ghost of his deceased grandmother standing in the living room. She turned around, smiled at him, then morphed into a white butterfly and flew out the door where she joined the butterflies in the yard. The swarm of butterflies then left the garden, never to be seen again.
Ever since then Scabior has been visited by his grandmother's spirit. He knows she is watching over him when he sees a white butterfly following him through the forest, or when a butterfly lands on his shoulder. Sometimes he'll catch a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, only to turn around and see a butterfly in her place. She did this because he was her favorite, her one and only grandson, and she would always be watching over him.