"Angie! Angie!"
"Angelica!"
"Nnnn . . . " Angelica blinked blearily up at her friends and the ghosts that were circled around her. "What . . . happened?"
"You passed out," Chris said flatly.
"Oh my God, Angelica, are you alright?" Hermione's worried face was pale. Angelica nodded, wincing a little at the movement.
"There was a voice . . . It said it smelled blood. It was going to kill . . . " That set the ghosts to murmuring. Angie ignored that, and continued to talk. It was odd, she didn't feel like she knew what she was saying, but once she said it, she knew that she meant it. How strange . . . "But nothing died, nobody died."
Neville's eyebrows knot together. "But, how do you know that? You weren't there, were you?"
Hermione shook her head quickly. "Of course she wasn't there, Neville, she's been passed out by us all this time ./ . . "
Angelica tuned out her friends' small argument. What was that the ghosts were saying? It was echoing in the back of her mind every time they said it, so it was hard to understand.
Necroscope . . .
A Keogh!
A Keogh and a witch!
A Necroscope, at Hogwarts. . . .
A Deathspeaker at my Death day party . . .
Keogh . . .
Necroscope . . .
Deathspeaker . . .
Angelica found herself almost detached from her body, like she was watching everything she did through a window. She felt herself stand on shaky legs and walk toward the huddled ghosts, and they parted before her. Chris, Hermione and Neville called her back, but their voices were fading almost the moment she heard them . . .
Then she was standing in front of one ghost that looked different from the others. See through, but not pearly white. Tall and thin, with dark eyes and a grim face. The ghost reached out a bony finger and placed it on the bridge of Angelica's nose, right between the eyes. "And my gift rises again," her high, reedy voice said. Angelica nodded. The ghost smiled and faded before her eyes.
I need not remain . . .
Angie slowly blinked. The ghost faded, but she still . . felt . . her mind. The ghost – where was she? – let out a dry chuckle. When the body dies, my child, the mind moves on. I have no need for my body to remain tied to my soul any longer. Not when there is another of my kind about.
"Angelica Potter!"
Angelica whirled on her heel to see Hermione, he face strained, striding through the ghosts that filled the hall. In the next moment, the bushy haired girl had her arms wrapped tight around her, saying, "Don't you ever scare me like that again! What is going on?"
Angelica pulled back from the hug, and saw to her shock that Hermione was crying. She placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I didn't - " she began. "I'm not . . . " She trailed off again, not sure what to say. She settled for avoiding the issue for now. Until she figured it out herself. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. Come one, let's go . . . " She wrapped an arm around the older girl's shoulders, and the two of them walked out of the dungeon, with Chris and Neville following behind them.
.
When Angelica reached the Ravenclaw Common Room that evening, it was chaos. People were firing questions rapidly at one another, and were squishing together fearfully, watching the walls with terror. One girl – Angelica couldn't see who – shrieked when Angelica opened the door and came in. Professor Flitwick stood on a table in the middle of it all, passing out hot chocolates to everyone. He appeared to be trying to calm them all.
What the hell?
Angie looked around the room in confusion, wondering what was going on. She had no chance to ask anyone before Luna ran into her, the younger girl's thin arms trapping Angelica's by her side. "Oh, thank Diana you're safe!" The girl said quietly, burying her head in Angelica's shoulder.
The older Ravenclaw nodded, and patted her friend's back as much as she could with her upper arms locked to her side by the first year. "What – what happened?" she asked quietly, taking in the obvious panic filling all the students around them.
Luna looked up at Angie but didn't let her go. "After the feast, everyone was leaving and we found – we found Mister Filch's cat. She was s stiff, and tied to a torch by her tail. Everyone said she'd died, but I don't think she has . . . " The diminutive blonde's hold on Angelica tightened, and Angelica found herself nodding.
"She didn't die, Luna," she told the other girl quietly, "I know she didn't. Come on, let's get you some chocolate and we can both sleep in my bed, alright?"
The first year nodded quietly, finally letting Angelica go, only holding her hand, now. When they reached Angelica's dorm, the two sat across from each other under the moonlight, sipping their drinks silently. The silence was too heavy for Angelica, and she spoke up. "You know, I always wondered what it must be like to have a sister. Do you have any siblings?"
Luna shook her head. "Not any longer," she said softly, stirring her hot chocolate with a finger "I was going to have a younger brother, but Mummy liked to experiment with spell and potions and things, and one day there was an accident. I was nine then." Luna was looking out the window now, and Angelica marvelled at how the girl was able to talk about it so easily. The blonde girl shrugged. "I still visit her and Aelius sometimes, in the cemetery in the village. Daddy always says that they have gone to the Elysian Fields now, because of all the good Mummy did while she was alive, and that we should be glad for them. I am." She turned her gaze toward Angelica. "I think we should try and sleep now. It's rather late, and neither of us have any more hot chocolate."
Angelica nodded and set her and Luna's mugs on the bedside table before pulling back the duvet and snuggling under it. Luna joined her, and soon the two drifted asleep. This must be what it's like to have a sister, Angelica thought firmly just before nodding off. It must be.
.
The next morning dawned all too soon for Angelica's taste. Still, the sun was rising, and it was Samhain. She slid out from under the sheets, carefully moving so as not to wake Luna. She grabbed her clothes from her wardrobe and ran to shower up.
By the time she came out of the bathroom, dressed and towelling off her hair, Luna had woken up and gone back to her dorm room. Angelica grabbed her satchel and book bag, then headed down to the Great Hall.
She half-heartedly hoped there would be pudding. Or ice cream.
There wasn't. Instead, there was a notice charmed onto on of the doors to the Great Hall, and the crowd of people trying to see the parchment completely blocked the open door. What was going on? Angelica pushed her way through the throng, and only found herself more confused when she read the announcement.
Friday, November 1st, 2002:
All classes are suspended while
the Petrification of last night is
looked into by the Hogwarts Staff.
All students are to eat and spend
the day in either their House area
or in the school Library. Classes
resume on Monday, November
4th, 2002. Students shall behave.
- Professor M. McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
This must be bad. Angelica finally pushed her way into the Great Hall, where there was only one topic of discussion: What Petrified Mrs. Norris, and how bad it must be to distract the teachers. Angelica silently felt glad she'd missed all the excitement: her own had been more than enough.
She didn't see her friends at lunch. Luna was . . . Somewhere, doing the gods only knew what, and knowing Hermione and Chris, they'd have gone to the Library, dragging Neville with them. Decided, Angelica wrapped a few rolls up in a serviette, placed them in her satchel, and left the Hall for the Library.
Her friends were there. Hermione's hair was valiantly attempting(and almost succeeding) to escape the harsh ponytail the girl had fought it into, and both she and Neville were searching through a large stack of books and papers. Chris wasn't at the table with them, but judging by the half-tucked chair with his jacket and book bag hanging off the back, he wasn't very far. Angelica took a deep breath and walked over, trying to figure out an explanation for the night before.
Neville saw her first, and his face lit up. "Angelica!" he said happily, standing up. "We wondered where you were. We're trying to figure out what made you faint last night. You went all wonky."
His voice was cheerful, but his smile was betrayed by the worry creased around his eyes. Angelica smiled weakly. "Is that what you've been doing?" she asked. "Here, let me help." She sat down on one of the wooden chairs and pulled a book toward her. The Ghostly Peoples and the Effectes of such on Living Beings it read in hand-written letters. Angelica quirked an eyebrow. Odd title. "Say," she asked, hoping she sounded casual, "Have you ever heard of a Necroscope?"
Neville dropped his book. "Necroscopes?" he asked incredulously. "You mean Deathspeakers? Yeah, I suppose . . . My Gran told me stories about them when I was younger, said they were halfway between our world and the next. Why do you - oh . . . " The podgy boy's eyes grew wide, and he stared at Angelica with a strange mix of shock and incredulity. Hermione looked confused from behind her book.
"What's a 'dead speaker?'" she asked.
Neville blinked. "They can contact people from the Afterlife," he said slowly, as if completely thrown by knowing something Hermione didn't. "Some people say they can be possessed by the spirits of the dead, but they're just fairy tales." He turned back to Angelica. "I mean, I thought they were. They are, aren't they? But I guess witchcraft is a myth two, but Chris and Hermione's cousin have it, and so does your guardian . . . "
Angelica shrugged. "I honestly don't know," she said. "But that was one of the things the ghosts were calling me, after I fainted. They kept saying it over again. 'Keogh.' 'Necroscope.' 'Deathspeaker.' Do you know exactly what they do?" She looked around. "And where's Chris?"
Neville and Hermione both shrugged. "I don't know," Hermione said, and the same time Neville said, "That's all Gran ever told me."
The three of them sat in a sort of awkward silence until Chris appeared form between whatever shelves he'd been searching. He waved at Angelica. "So," he said, "I think I found a book on Necroscopes . . . "
"How did you - "
Chris cut Hermione off. "I eavesdropped. Anyway, here you go." He handed Angelica the book, already open, and she read the passage he pointed to out loud to her friends.
" 'Of all the wild talents known to magic, Necroscopes are not the most rare, but are certainly the most strange. Little can be said about them but that their goal, they have said throughout the centuries, is to serve those passed and to continue their works. Some have claimed they speak to the dead telepathically and may be possessed by them if they choose, but no-one has ever been able to prove these claims, and no Necroscope has ever admitted to it. It may be noted, however, that Necroscopes known to history have all been said to learn things uncommonly quickly. This has long been attributed to them taking the knowledge of the departed, but like most legends surrounding Necroscopes, cannot be proven. Typically known to be of foul temper and untrusting of those with hearts that continue to beat, Necroscopes have been known to come into their powers anywhere from birth to old age, with no obvious difference in power between them. The gift is hereditary, like most wild talents, but has a habit of submerging itself every few generations. Necroscopes are dangerous to face, and have been known to raie those long since gone from their graves to protect them. Beware all who should take them as an enemy or a friend.' "
Angelica stared at the page and the (rather crude) drawing at the bottom of the page, showing an oddly distorted, reedy witch raising her arms in a cemetery, with people popping out of graves with them. Tiny dotted threads connected her head to the gravestones. She closed the book. It was entitled Mythical and Rare Peoples of Days Since Past.
"So I'm a legend," she said flatly.
"Well . . . " Chris said teasingly. "There is that who 'Girl Who Lived-'"
"Shut up."
He raised his hands placating. Angelica glowered before turning back to their other friends.
"So who'd like to go cemetery hunting with me?" she asked sarcastically. "I'm sure talking to headstones will be lovely."
While Neville and Hermione looked slightly sick, Angelica studiously ignored Chris' snickering beside her.
.
AN/AR: So, if I didn't make it clear enough, Angie's a Necroscope. Also called a Keogh. Also called a Deathspeaker. Yes I totally nicked the power and the first two names for it from Brian Lumley and his Necroscope book series. No, I'm probably not going to include any of the characters, the E-Branch, or Harry Keogh. I might. Like, after fourth or fifth year at best. Sorry anyone that got the reference! *Shrugs* Props to ChelleyBean for writing the fan fiction that introduced me to the series - if anyone can get a hold of her, beg her to update Keogh. Please.
Being a Necroscope enables Angelica to speak to dead people. Not just ghosts, but anyone that has EVER died. She can voluntarily let them take over her body, and kick them out in two seconds flat if she likes because hey, it's her body.
Also, what did everyone think of the start of the chapter? I tried to make everything seem a bit hazy, to reflect Angie's state then, but I'm not sure how well it read . . . Tell me if I pulled it off, pretty please?
Many thanks to you lovely readers, M.