Ella feels better after speaking to Dennis, though she still isn't sure whether she will take McGonagall up on her offer. She relays the conversation to Yeoreum when she returns to the dormitory. With how upbeat and positive Yeoreum is, she mostly expects her to be for the idea providing she thinks she'll get something out of it. She doesn't expect the frown and subsequent thoughtful look she casts at her half-finished potions essay.

"Dad goes to a mind healer," she finally says. "He says that it's helping him in the long run, but that this is kind of a new thing for the wizarding world, so it can be kind of touch and go. The lady he goes to is good, but apparently they aren't all like that."

Ella thinks about that. Does she want to risk telling her life story to someone who may not handle that information with care? People may have the best of intentions, but sometimes that isn't enough. She decides to push McGonagall's suggestion to the back of her mind for the time being.

There are other things to worry about, anyway, such as the argument they walk in on the next morning before breakfast.

"Oh, don't you start, Shafiq," Damien is saying, loud enough to be heard by anyone passing by, but going unnoticed by everyone filing out of the common room for the day.

Torian, whose shoulders are tense, is frowning. It isn't the thoughtful frown he often sports in class. This is the frown of someone angry, or at least offended. He's a quiet person to begin with, but the lack of proper force behind his expressions soften his anger, and when he finally does respond to Damien, his voice is low, but firm.

"I'm serious, Damien. You've already hurt people with this, including your brother. Don't you think you should maybe think about it a bit more?"

He's too nice, Ella realizes. She recognizes it from how many times she's seen it in Dennis, though her brother is louder about it, less nervous. He's someone who tries to see the best in people and argues with them for their own benefit. Torian reminds her of that, but less confident.

"Why should I have to think about it? Look at history, all of the evidence is there. Slytherin House is just a breeding ground for evil wizards, and even if some of them don't get to that point, they're at least selfish assholes."

Any of the nervous energy Torian was oozing before disappears with that comment. His eyes, which had been wide, narrow in Damien's direction as one of his hands tightly grips the strap of his bookbag.

"So my mother and my grandmother are either evil wizards or selfish assholes?" His voice is still low, now with an underlying warning.

Damien's mouth opens and Ella watches as the words register in his mind, any of his own words he was planning for his rebuttal lost. He looks Torian up and down once, closes his mouth, opens it again, then closes it so fast she can almost hear his jaw clicking shut. He turns and pushes past Marius, who has been standing next to them the entire time like an umpire in a tennis match, and storms out of the portrait hole. Marius says something to Torian with a reassuring smile before running off after him.

The portrait falls back into place and Torian slumps forward, rubbing his forehead. Yeoreum, bless her heart, springs into action before Ella can say a word, all but skipping over to take Torian's arm in hers. His head snaps up and he looks at her questioningly, but she only grins at him before turning back to Ella and beckoning her over. Ella mentally shrugs and crosses the room to meet them.

"Welcome to the club!" Yeoreum says with a bright smile, as though Torian hadn't just faced down with someone who is supposed to be his friend.

"We have badges," Ella adds, standing on Torian's other side.

This gets a smile out of Torian. "Already? That's some impressive spellwork."

"We're talented."

A laugh. It's soft and tired, but it's a laugh all the same. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast."

They head down to the great hall, Yeoreum finally freeing Torian's arm when his cloudy mood lets up. It isn't gone completely, but they do their best to distract him on the way over, pointing out some fifth years who have managed to get their fingers stuck in a large finger trap and that Filch has his shirt on backwards. Humour at others' expense is fine if it cheers someone else up, in Ella's humble opinion.

As they sit down at the Gryffindor table, Ella locks eyes with Damien. He's frowning, nostrils flared in their direction, and he says something to Marius without looking away. Marius doesn't seem too concerned, saying something quick back before resuming his conversation with a few second years. Ella bats her eyes at him and grins before turning away.

"Marius is the strongest of us all," Yeoreum says, feigning solemness.

Torian makes a doubtful noise around his toast. "I think he just lets most of what Damien says fly over his head, to be honest."

"And that's what makes him so strong."

Ella and Yeoreum don't discuss this, but they seem to be in unspoken agreement that they aren't leaving Torian alone, at least during class time. One of them is always sitting next to him, alternating per class. Ella doubts Damien is going to try and speak to Torian, at least not in class, but she wants to show her solidarity. Half of it is to, of course, ensure Torian is feeling alright after having his family insulted in such a way. The other half is her wanting to be petty right under Damien's nose.

She knows it's working when in Charms Zorion Parrish leans over from his spot beside her and says in a low (yet somehow posh at the same time) voice, "Is there any particular reason why Lucien's brother has been glaring at us for the past five minutes?"

Not bothering to check if what Zorion is saying is true — she knows it is — she says, "Just his prejudice catching up with him."

The snort leaving Zorion is dignified, though Ella doesn't know how something as grating as a snort can be described as such. It just is. "That would be right. He better get over it. For his brother's sake."

Ella does spare a glance this time, turning her head slightly to spy Lucien, who is watching (yet another) argument between Vesper and Hikari with mild amusement. He appears better than the time Ella confronted Damien in front of him, but he isn't alone this time. If Damien does decide to be an incorrigible git for the rest of their days, at least he will have others around him.

The day finishes without any major incidents, but Torian becomes increasingly subdued the closer they get to Gryffindor Tower. He enters the portrait hole with his head down, eyes completely fixated on the floor, and Yeoreum wastes no time in looping her arm through his yet again and dragging him to a couch in a small alcove of the room. It's a small make, so the three of them have to squish together, Torian in the middle. Ella finds she doesn't mind too much.

"You don't have to go back up there if you don't want to," Yeoreum says, gaze flickering to the door that leads to Torian's dorm.

Torian shakes his head. "It's fine, I can ignore him if I have to, it's just…" His lips bunch and Ella gets the impression he's biting the inside of his cheek. "I don't know if I should."

Ella frowns. "Why not? He's being a complete git."

"Yeah, I know. I just feel bad because all of this comes from somewhere," he says. "It sounds like he was raised to believe that Slytherins were the enemy, at least a little bit, but then his father was murdered during the war, and by one of his old Slytherin classmates, apparently. Who am I to — to tell him how to deal with that?"

"You're someone who his words are hurting," says Ella. "If he's your friend, he wouldn't just ignore that."

"But am I ignoring his need to deal with his dad's death?" Torian asks in a small voice.

Yeoreum knits her eyebrows together. "Him dealing with that isn't an excuse. I lost my mum during the war, too, and I'm not going around declaring another group of children the enemy."

"I suppose," Torian admits, albeit begrudgingly. "I just don't think I have the right to judge someone's grief with me and my family being the way they are."

"What do you mean?" Ella asks.

Torian's shoulders are hunched and he curls into himself as he says, "Both sides of my family stayed out of the war. Both of the wars, actually. They made their stance clear, that they hate You-Know-Who and all his followers, but they didn't do anything about it. They didn't fight or anything. Everyone stayed out of it to protect themselves. There's a reason why there hasn't been a Gryffindor in my family for generations." He straightens, hands clinging to the edge of the couch. "And maybe it should have stayed that way."

"What?" Yeoreum's bewildered expression quickly gives way to a determined one. "That's not true! You're plenty brave!"

"Am I?" Torian says sullenly. "It took months of hearing Damien talk about my mother's house like that for me to say anything, and I could barely get the words out. I didn't even say or do anything when he and Ella were arguing. Maybe the Sorting Hat was wrong after all."

Yeoreum shakes her head vigorously. "The hat is never wrong!"

"It's okay." Torian sighs, resigned, and stands, shooting them a small yet pained smile. "I'm gonna go back up to my room now."

Ella leans forward with the intention of grabbing his sleeve and Yeoreum begins to say his name, but in the end, the two of them can do nothing but watch as the dejected Torian disappears upstairs. When Ella looks at Yeoreum, she can see all the concerns that must be showing on her own face, though neither speak. For all the bravery and honour that Gryffindor House promises them, they can't think of a way such things would help them with this.


They drown themselves in their homework, both to ignore their inability to fix a friend's problem and because they're worried about falling behind between the several essays they have for Charms, Potions, and Herbology that are due by the end of the week. It keeps Ella reasonably distracted for a good hour and a half without breaks. It's amazing how productive she can be when running from problems she can't automatically fix by yelling.

They're approaching the two hour mark when Yeoreum drops her quill and ink, leaving a dark splotch on her duvet, and all but yells, "Ghosts!"

Ella lowers her parchment with a raised brow. "Ghosts? What do ghosts have to do with sleeping draught?"

"Nothing, nothing, this isn't about schoolwork." Yeoreum struggles to leave her bed with the amount of books she's surrounded herself with. She manages it in the end, though rolls to the floor with a thud, getting up as though nothing happened. "The castle ghosts, Ella, they might be able to help us!"

Ella knows the castle ghosts, or perhaps it would be best to say she knows of them. She's seen them, at least. Dennis pointed out Nearly Headless Nick to her at the feast and even said hello to him. The others she's seen around. She still doesn't understand why Yeoreum is bringing them up now.

"Help us with what?" she asks.

"With finding the," Yeoreum looks around, as though there is going to be anyone else in their dorm room, "Resurrection Stone."

All at once, Ella understands. If anyone would know anything about resurrection, it would be ghosts. Perhaps they aren't able to resurrect themselves, but there is a chance they know something, especially if they've been around for centuries. But there is also another possibility. It's incredibly slim, but there is a chance. And if there is a chance, she's going to take it.

"What if… what if Colin became one of the ghosts?"

Yeoreum blinks. "I hadn't even thought of that. He is a wizard, so that's possible. And my mother could be. Maybe. But if that's the case, wouldn't they have spoken to us already?"

Ella doesn't know whether to be frustrated or appreciative that Yeoreum is slicing her hope right through the middle before it can get too high. "Maybe. If Colin was a ghost here, he'd definitely be acting the same as always." And that would mean speaking to her and Dennis any chance he got.

"And mum was always very… at peace with the idea of death," Yeoreum says, laying down, hands folded across her stomach. "She knew that it was inevitable, especially in her job. I don't think she'd stay in the human world."

They lapse into silence, reality weighing on them. As wizards, they have already been given more methods of seeing their deceased family members again than muggles could ever dream of. Perhaps that is why the muggle world has better psychologists and the like. Muggles were forced into accepting their grief far earlier than wizards were.

"We can still ask the ghosts, though," says Yeoreum, sitting back up. "Nearly Headless Nick seems friendly enough. Maybe he'll tell us something."

Ella thinks of the conversation Dennis had with their patron ghost, ears ringing from the memory. "He's also loud. We'll need to pick a time when no one will overhear us."

Yeoreum taps her feet together in contemplation. "Well… Gryffindor isn't playing in the Quidditch match this weekend, so I don't mind missing it."

She grins at Ella and Ella grins back.


The next few days pass agonizingly slowly in Ella's opinion. All she wants is to corner a ghost (not that such a thing is really possible, them being incorporeal and all, but she stands by it when she says as much to Yeoreum) and question them extensively. Patience has never been her biggest virtue when she has something she wishes to accomplish, but she won't be able to accomplish anything if the wrong person overhears her. Yeoreum just has to remind her of that sometimes.

Torian still sits with them at mealtimes and in class, not entirely himself, but also not bringing up their conversation from that afternoon in the tower. Ella doesn't push him and neither does Yeoreum, though she can tell that Yeoreum wants to. She has a look on her face when she's thinking about mentioning it, the doe eyes already activated, and Ella has to catch her gaze and shake her head. She knows very well that forcing someone to talk about something when they aren't ready is a terrible idea.

Saturday morning is a frosty one. The snow on the Hogwarts grounds melted last week, but the mornings are still chilly enough for them to see the heat of their breath as they exhale. Ella and Yeoreum wake early, but don't head down for breakfast with the rest of their house. They sit by the window, waiting for the Quidditch crowd to make their way down to the pitch.

"I still can't believe you're missing Quidditch for this," Ella says to Yeoreum as the players themselves start trickling out of the main grounds.

"This is more important," Yeoreum says, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. "Next game, though, I'm not giving up. I need to know who my competition is for try-outs next year."

"Yeah, yeah."

It isn't long before more students emerge, a sea of mostly blue and clusters of green heading down towards the pitch. Ella thinks she sees Hikari and Vesper circling around Sebastian Veront, taunting him while the rest of their Slytherin friends look on in laughter. Sebastian is swatting at them like flies with little success. It's more amusing than it should be.

As soon as the teachers begin joining the crowd, Ella says, "Okay, let's go."

The common room is deserted as they leave the dorms, as is the corridor outside the portrait hole. Just as they intended. But now they are looking to their right, to their left, to the stairs in front of them, wondering where to go next.

"So, where do ghosts usually hang out?" Yeoreum asks.

Ella sighs. She hasn't thought that far ahead. "Beats me."

"We need one who would know a lot, right? If I was a smart ghost, where would I be?"

Ella stops to think, though it only takes a moment for her to come up with the obvious answer: "The library."

Yeoreum grabs her wrist and begins to drag them in the direction of the library, not that Ella needs to be pulled along. She's just as eager to get the answers as Yeoreum is. It's undeniable, however, that it's nice to have someone on her side, just as interested in the object she's chasing as she is.

They don't make it to the library. They come close, feet touching the first floor and pivoting in the direction of the library when they see it. Or perhaps it would be best to say that they see her.

The lady is pale yet beautiful despite her ghostly status, a dignified elegance about her as she glides down the corridor. A cool breeze gives Ella goosebumps and a few strands of hair she'd secured behind her shoulder fall in front of her face. The woman is familiar, though she can't place her name. Should she know it? Or has she simply seen her floating around the castle before?

Yeoreum nudges her and whispers, "That's the Grey Lady. Ravenclaw's patron ghost!"

Ella remembers then. There had been a myriad of ghosts at the start of term feast, the four most prominent being the patron ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick had been theirs, and Ravenclaw's had been a graceful woman who held her head high and rarely looked the students in the eye. That doesn't particularly bode well for their chances of gathering information, especially as they aren't Ravenclaws themselves.

Still, it's worth a try.

"Excuse me!" Ella says, far too loud for the empty hallway, but it does the trick. The Grey Lady stops in her tracks, but doesn't turn around.

Approaching cautiously, Ella continues with, "Um, I just wanted to — to ask something? I thought maybe a ghost could help me."

The Grey Lady does turn around at that, albeit slowly, eyes piercing. Ella and Yeoreum both stand their ground, though Ella notes the way Yeoreum edges slightly closer to her. They stay that way even as the ghost before them glides closer, towering over them. She's rather tall.

"That would depend," the Grey Lady begins slowly, "on what you seek."

"We're looking for something," Yeoreum says quickly.

When the woman's eyes narrow, Ella quickly follows up with, "Well, sort of. It's more that we want information on a concept."

This is the right thing to say, the Grey Lady's eyes returning to normal. She inclines her head as if to say 'go on'.

"Is there — is there a way to communicate with the, um, those who have passed on?" Ella asks. "If they haven't stayed here as a ghost, I mean."

The Grey Lady stares. She is the transparent one, yet Ella feels as though she's being seen through, her intentions, emotions, and everything else laid bare for the ghost to read. They make eye contact. She doesn't look away.

In the end, the Grey Lady backs away and says, "You have lost. You are both so young, yet you have lost."

Ella finally breaks eye contact. The one conversation she fears to have with anyone, though she should have suspected it would come to it. Why else would they be asking about communicating with the dead?

"My — My mother died."

Yeoreum's head is lowered, dark hair falling in front of her face, though the Grey Lady hears her. Her eyes widen for a brief moment, so brief that Ella almost thinks she imagined it, before softening. She floats down so her skirts — or the image of them, anyway — are properly touching the floor.

"I understand," she says. "The loss of one's mother is not easily erased, if at all." She looks to Ella. "And you?"

Ella sucks in a deep breath. "Brother. My older brother." It's an effort to get the words out, teeth grit as if to keep them in, but they pass her lips anyway.

When she dares glance at the Grey Lady, the same softness she regarded Yeoreum with is there, but there is an extra glint in her eye that she can't place. Not until she says, "The boy with the camera."

Whatever air had entered Ella's lungs before leaves just as quickly as it came. She has to swallow the lump in her throat and closes her eyes briefly to collect herself. For a brief moment, she can pretend she isn't having this conversation.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Such a curious boy. Never quite understood why he couldn't capture us ghosts on film." The Grey Lady smiles, brief and soft, before it disappears. "To be honest with you, the idea of communicating with the dead beyond wayward ghosts is something I researched for a very long time." She sighs. "I have not found anything substantial. To this day, I still keep my ear to the ground."

A wave of frustration washes over Ella, though it isn't directed at the Grey Lady herself. She is clearly their most promising lead, yet she has nothing, years of experience being deceased not enough to give her the information they seek. And if she doesn't have it, who would?

Harry Potter and his friends would. They do. She isn't desperate enough to ask them yet, though. Their conversation made it very clear that they don't want the Resurrection Stone to be found.

She forces a smile. "Thank you anyway, Miss Grey Lady."

The Grey Lady nods to them. "I apologize for not being able to help more."

And with that, she continues her glide down the hall.

It's only after she's disappeared around the corner that Ella allows herself to breathe normally again. Yeoreum leans a hand on her shoulder for support. Whether it's for her or herself, she doesn't know. It doesn't matter either way.

"I think," Yeoreum starts softly, "we should go back to the dorms."

Ella can only nod in agreement.


hello! i've been busy, completing my qualifications and now with a new job, but i'm sick today so i was able to post this!