Chapter Five

Amber, unfortunately, wasn't anywhere to be found. Not the next day, or the day after that, or even over the weekend. She seemed very good at not wanting to be found. It was as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were heading to their Defense class the next week that they finally ran into her, and that was only because she'd been looking for Harry.

"I'm sorry," she said as they settled down into an empty classroom. It didn't seem like it had been used in quite some time. Harry noticed that as Amber walked in front of them toward the row of windows, she actually disturbed the dust on the floor a bit. "I lost track of time."

Hermione brushed off one of the desks and took a seat atop it. "Well, that's all right. We must have just been missing each other. We've been down the hallways dozens of times..."

Amber shook her head, and Harry noted that she looked confused. Almost embarrassed. She didn't look at them when she turned away from the window. "There's some rooms above the towers. There's one that's pretty shut off, and that's where I've been staying. I haven't really been... Well, I thought I'd be able to tell by looking at the sun, but there weren't any windows."

"You've just been staying up there?" Ron asked. The Hufflepuff ghost nodded. "I just don't want to be seen."

"Well, you'll have to sometime--" Ron was cut off by a rather angry glance from Amber. Harry hadn't ever seen her look that fierce before, even on the Quidditch pitch.

"I said I don't want to be seen," she snapped, albeit in a rather quiet tone. She seemed to notice that the others were looking at her rather strangely, because her expression mellowed, and she attempted a half-smile. It didn't quite work.

"Er... I don't mean to be offensive or anything," Ron went on, sliding off the desk he was on to go sit next to Amber. "I didn't think ghosts really got embarrassed."

Amber shrugged, any attempt at a smile failing as she managed to look even more distinctly uncomfortable than before. "I'm not, really," she explained. "It's weird. I don't know what's going on... I thought I was fine before, back when... Well, it was hard to accept, of course. It's just that..."

"You don't know what you want," Hermione supplied, just as an observation.

Amber nodded. "It's like I need something. Can't reach it, though."

Ron looked at Harry, who nodded and went on to ask, "Is it a place?"

A distinctly confused expression crossed Amber's face as she seemed to consider this, idly rubbing the back of her neck and pulling strands of translucent hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, I think it is. How did you know?"

"We've been talking to Nearly Headless Nick," Harry said. "And Professor Binns, but we can't really figure anything out much. Nothing helpful, anyway." He scuffed his toe through the dust on the floor, wishing he had something of the more cheerful variety to tell. He said he'd help her. It was a promise. And he didn't really want to fail her again... This was almost like being given another chance. He looked up from his feet just in time to see Amber slump a bit against the glass, though she was wearing that smile she had on the day he first met up with her in the halls. She was still trying to keep positive, but anyone could see that it was failing.

"We'll just have to ask a few more questions," Hermione said, finally breaking into the silence. "There are a lot of ghosts in the castle. I'm sure one of them can help."

"Wouldn't they have left by now if they knew--" Ron started, but Harry shook his head and he stopped in mid-statement. Amber already heard, though, but she didn't focus on the fact that help seemed rather hopeless at the moment. Instead, she had another question to ask.

"Left?" She stood up, taking a couple strides toward Harry. Again, she left footprints in the dust. "Left where?"

"The place people go when they die," Hermione replied. "We think that's what you might be feeling. But..." she added with a look toward Ron. "Ron's right. We don't have any leads yet. It just seems to be a general idea."

Harry noticed the fact that Amber was looking more cheerful than she'd looked before, though. It even looked as if there were a bit of color to her instead of the silvery translucence she'd become. "But there could be... something," she said.

Hermione nodded, then said, "We've got to get to class now, though. Where can we find you? Where have you been staying?"

Amber looked hesitant for a moment, as if she didn't want to divulge this secret. Finally, she answered, "I'm at the top of a spire next to Ravenclaw tower. I'll stay there until you come for me."

To Harry, that could be a long time, though as they waved goodbye to the Hufflepuff ghost, Harry wondered if she didn't look maybe a bit younger than he did now. It was probably just him imagination. Given that she'd never age, he felt he probably would look for something like that, and a few days or weeks would probably just seem like the blink of an eye for her. Hopefully they'd be able to help in the end... They had a point A and a point B, but nothing in the middle to get between them. Something would have to fall into place eventually. It always did.

Worse teachers had been hired for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. William Medley was average. An older man, he planned his lessons with meticulous attention to detail. One meeting, the class would cover theory, and the next they would either do a small project or a practical demonstration. His lectures were almost Binns-like in excitement, though the class listened well to Professor Medley's words. Notes well-taken meant they wouldn't have to dwell on the lesson during the practical part of the class.

This lesson wasn't terribly dull anyway. It was a combination of science and magic, which focused on the spread of the werewolf curse and its integration into the minds and bodies of its victims. Even though Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew a werewolf personally, Hermione still felt the need to take incredibly detailed notes. Harry and Ron scribbled various things down as well, but only the things they didn't know.

One thing was for certain, Medley was a good teacher. He knew the material without relying on a book, and he was normal. Well, as far as anyone knew, anyway. They'd all been surprised before.

Just as the hour was up, he dismissed the class, as Harry heard him ask Dean to stay behind to set up the practical for his third-year Slytherin class. He offered his Housemate a sympathetic smile on the way out; who really wanted to help set up a lesson for Slytherins?

"That was a fascinating class," Hermione said as she made sure she had all her books with her. She tended to carry quite a few. Then again, she was taking the most NEWT classes by far among the three of them. She still had a couple classes in the afternoon to attend; Ron and Harry were finished.

"It wasn't bad," Ron replied. "Not much we didn't already know."

"Really, Ron. There was a tonne I didn't know. Or at least quite a bit I'd forgotten from third year. It helps to have a refresher now and then, you know."

Hermione had to get on to her next class, so she headed off opposite Harry and Ron when they reached the next junction. It was still a long time before dinner, so they headed back toward the tower. They talked briefly about doing homework, but there would probably be a game of Exploding Snap going, or Gobstones, and if there wasn't, they could probably distract themselves with a game of Wizard's Chess. Harry definitely thought he was getting better, though the more he played against Ron, the more he wasn't so sure.

"So," Harry said, moving his last Bishop to take one of Ron's pawns. This didn't seem to phase Ron, who looked at the board with and air of disinterest for a moment before easily capturing that Bishop. "Do you think we should tell Hermione we've been playing chess this whole time instead of doing homework?"

"Well, we've been doing homework in a way," Ron said, waiting for Harry to move his King out of check before capturing a pawn. "Chess takes a few math skills. It's like we're doing Arithmancy."

"We're not in Arithmancy, though," Harry observed. He managed to capture one of Ron's knights, right before Ron check-mated his King and ended the game.

"Oh, right, she'll see right through that," Ron commented as he gathered up his pieces and took a look at his watch. "Well, then. About time for dinner."

Harry started putting his pieces into the box, and was just looking up to answer Ron when he noticed that Dean was hurrying across the common room from the portrait hole toward them. He kneeled next to the table. "Hey, you two," was his greeting.

"Have fun with the Slytherins?" Ron asked, closing his box. Harry could hear the pieces shuffling around a bit inside.

"Not really," Dean admitted, "But that's not the point. Their lesson was about ghosts. The whole thing. Medley even asked Nearly Headless Nick to help with it."

This piqued Harry's interest, and by the look of it, Ron was rather curious, too. Dean smiled. "I head you guys talking about Amber the other day. Sorry to overhear, but I was right there."

"No, it's all right," Harry said. "I don't think it matters much." Considering Amber constantly hid up in the spire next to Ravenclaw tower, Harry didn't think that, even if Dean went looking, he'd find her.

"So?" Ron prompted, leaning in a bit. "We had a lesson on ghosts third year, too, remember? If it was the same thing, then..."

Dean shook his head. "But it wasn't. This guy... He's an expert on ghosts. He knows... Well, he knows things I haven't heard before. I think if you want to help Amber, you should talk to him. He didn't say a whole lot, but what he did say..."

"It can't hurt. Maybe we'll catch him in the Great Hall. That way Hermione'll be there, too. We can talk to him then." Harry stood up, tucking his chess set under his arm.

Just under a half an hour later, Ron and Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Hermione joined them not too long after, and they were able to relay the message from Dean: they might have someone who knew about ghosts, and they were going to ask him as soon as he got here.

"Haven't you noticed?" Hermione asked, looking up toward the head table.

"Noticed what?" Ron replied, following the direction of Hermione's gaze.

"Professor Medley hasn't taken a meal in the Great Hall since the Welcoming Feast. I think he just goes to his dormitory or something. I don't see him after class a whole lot, either." As the food appeared on the table, she ladled some vegetables onto her plate. "I went to ask about the end-of-the-term essay--"

"Already?" Ron asked. "It's barely the second week of school...!"

"...just to be prepared, and no one had seen him. I think he keeps to himself." She added a bit of chicken to her plate before she dug in. "I think the best time to catch him is right before or right after class. He seems nice enough... Just odd."

"Well, that's nothing new from a Defense instructor," Ron said, plunking a cob of corn down in front of him. Harry had to nod.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, if what Dean said is true, we'll have class again in a couple days. We'll just ask him after."

"I don't like to keep Amber waiting," Harry muttered, though he already knew that the young ghost probably wasn't even feeling any time passing. It must have been strange, learning that time really had no meaning for you anymore.

"You could get out the map," Ron whispered quietly enough so that Seamus and Dean, who were sitting rather close, couldn't overhear. "You'd find his dormitory pretty quickly that way."

Harry looked up at Hermione, who was giving him a rather severe look. "No," he said. "It's all right. I don't think a couple days will hurt. This time."

What one says and what one does, of course, are two completely different things.