Right, then. Bit of a jump timewise, just so you know, but from her on out, that shouldn't happen much more at all. Rights reserved etc. Still all my own charas, actually, next couple of chapters should introduce a few of his friends created by my friends. w00t and such.

The ten year old tuned out his parents as they continued their half-argument, begun before they had even left York.

"I do not know vhy you insisted upon muggle transportation, Tessa."

"I happen to like flying, and you know it."

"Hours of vasted time, zhat is all it vas."

"Hush, now, Peter. We're here, and we shouldn't be arguing at a time like this."

"Of course." His father's voice grew melancholy. "Mozher vould not haff liked zhat, vould she?"

Kolya's eyes, as they began to roll at his parents, stopped when they finally saw the twin towers rising up from the Kresnyov Estate. Black covered the usually rosy stone, from the top of the bulbous domes to the tree line that hid the rest of the building, and the grounds, from sight as they topped the low hill. He pulled the plush cat to his side, one hand holding it tightly. They said Baba wasn't gone, but only dead. Still, she'd have never let them cover the towers like that, not ever or for anything. She loved the colour of the stone.

"Fazher, vhy did zhey cover zhe towers? Baba vould never haff let zhem do zhat! Vhy didn't she say anyzhing?"

The two adults shared a look, and his mother held up her hands. "Your family, and your magic. I don't really understand it all, myself."

"Fine. Vell, Nicolai, vhen she died, her vill vas zhat you got everyzhing she owned. Including the vorkers and elves of zhe estate. She cannot tell zhem to do anyzhing at all." He offered a smile. "And Greza, the oldest elf, alvays did haff a flair for doing zhings grandly."

Lifting the cat into his lap, the boy falls silent, not saying anything. Baba could do anything she put her mind to, Father always said so. Why would that change now? "Fazher, she sent me a letter after she died. How could she do zhat if she can't tell zhem to do anyzhing?"

"I suppose she asked. Or maybe had it in her vill that zhey still have to take dictation. I vouldn't put it past her."

"Dictation?"

"She speaks and zhey write vhat she says."

"Oh." He looks down at the plush, pressing it against his stomach in a little hug. "Vill she still...vell...look like she alvays did?" The night before, his dreams had left her a skeleton and a horrible monster, both chasing him away from Tagil, shouting 'Halfblood, halfblood!'

"Pretty much, except you vill be able to see through her and she...vell, she vill most likely be floating, not standing on zhe ground. But she vill still look just like Baba." He sets a hand on his son's shoulder and gives a squeeze. "And she still loves you, too. I zhink she alvays vill."

They finished the trip in silence, Kolya struggling to stop tears, telling himself that his father was a great wizard and would know all about ghosts. And almost believing it.

The car--specially issued for them by the local governor--pulled into the lane and up to the great oaken doors that fronted the magnificent building. As they began to climb out of the car, a door opened and several elves, two wizards, and a pale ghost, almost invisible in the sunlight, came out to meet them. Father smiled and waved a hello to the ancient, wrinkled elf, Greza.

"Hello. Greza, how wonderful to see you," he called in Russian. A somewhat thin voice, almost like an echo, spoke first, in very good English.

"Tessa, darling, so good to see you again. For a bit, I vas vorried zhat it vouldn't happen. Peter, zhank you for coming so quickly. And Nicolai, von't you give me a smile?" The pale ghost stopped before the boy, who squinted up.

"Baba? I can barely see you!" He rubbed his cheek, surprised at the wetness on his hand. "Why can't I see you? Father said I should be able to!" His second sentence, in Russian, was hurried and not even close to the level of his father. Usually, only Grandfather spoke Russian at home.

"Do not fret, child. Inside you vill see me just fine. It is only a touch bright today." She spreads her hands, looking at the servants, then huffs. "Oh, right. Nicolai, vould you ask zhem to get your zhings? And to take down zhat nonsense. I vant my home back, not some dark castle."

Looking to Greza, he swallows. "Er, vould you please...do vant Baba said, for now? If it isn't trouble, of course," he adds. The elf frowns, then looks at the others.

"Master, Greza not know anything but Russian."

"Sorry, Greza. I forgot. Please get our things inside." She smiled and jumped to it with the other elves as Grandmother held up her arms.

"Come," she said, still speaking English in consideration of his mother. "Ve vill go in and you may sup. Surely you must be famished."

That evening, Kolya sat alone beside his bed, a damp handkerchief in her hand. "Baba isn't the same at all," he said, looking at the plush. "She even sounds different. I vant her back like she vas. I don't vant zhis," he said, waving around the room. "And I don't vant to have a ghost for my grandmozher."

"Nicolai?" The call came from his door, and he looked up. She hovered halfway through the door, looking at him. "May I come in? I vould like to talk to you."

Hugging the cat close, he nods, trying to blink his tears away. "I...please, Baba. I vould love to talk to you." His lip trembled, but he managed to, for the most part, keep himself calm. "Vhat do you vant?"

"I vanted to check on you. You vhere very quiet at zhe table."

"I didn't feel like talking."

"You know, zhere is a much nicer set of rooms for you. Zhey are yours, now."

"I have alvays had zhis room. Zhis is my room." He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the form in his lap. "Vhy did you have to change like zhis? Couldn't you have just stayed the same vay forever?"

She knelt before him, so that she could find his eyes. "No. Everyvon changes, Nicolai. That is life." Her faint hand passes near his cheek. "I am sorry it had to happen so soon, child."

"Am I going to change, too?"

"Of course, all zhe time. But zhat is just fine." He looks away from her, still not wanting to see what she had become. "Nicolai, you are growing up. You haff alvays had your mozher's eyes, and my hair. Now, you are starting to get Pavil's nose, and chin." She laughs. "And you know, I avays did zhink he vas very handsome. But not as handsome as you."

He shook his head. "I do not vant to look like him at all." Pulling back from her, he takes an uneasy breath. "He is a horrible man. I hate him, Baba. I vizh zhat he vould die. But you did, instead." He rubbed his eyes again, holding the cat to his chest tightly. "You said you vould alvays be vizh my soul, vizh me. But you died."

"I stayed because I love you, Nicolai. Not everyvon becomes a ghost, you know. But I vould never leave you alone. I never vill."

Her funeral, the next day, was very well attended, and his grandmother and parents were assured that he had a place at the most prestigious wizarding school in The Ukraine, the same school the Kresnyovs had been going to for over four hundred years. The governor said some very nice things and even Greza was allowed to give a moving, is almost unintelligble, good-bye.

Before the ceremony, he had stumbled into a group of the serving girls doing themselves up with all kinds of makeup, chatting happily and giggling at him when he appeared. He made the mistake of pointing to blush and asking what it was for. Only too happily, the girls showed him, and his mother thought for a moment, after he managed to escape and run down a back staircase to the kitchens, that he had a slight fever.

"Just been running, Mozher," he said, stealing a glance at himself in a bright pot hanging on the wall. He had to stop a gasp, for the blush seemed, to him, to soften the hard looks that he knew as his Grandfather. He decided not to wash the stuff off, and instead wore it and black robes out to the cherry orchard, much to the giggling girls's delight.

Kolya spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone, needing time to be alone. It was almost dark when he found himself outside of his Grandmother's chambers...his chambers. The rooms, Greza had informed him, had been prepared for him as soon as she knew he was coming, and she had been crushed when he asked only for his old room. He slipped through the doors and looked around, seeing Baba's things all over the room still.

He took her faded blue hat, two feet tall, though the last two inches bent forward a little bit along an old crease. He set it on his head and looked into a mirror, smiling a little. Setting the kitty by the mirror, he walked around the room, and stopped at seeing her wand. He lifted it carefully and looked at it, such a little thing, really, so thin...but she had been the most respected judge in the Urals, possibly the most respected witch, as well. He set it down again, remembering that it was his now.

"Vhy don't you take zhe hat, to remember me? Zhat vay, I vill alvays be vizh you." He jumped, and spun, snatching the hat from his head until he saw her over the bed, watching him with a sad smile. "I promise zhat I von't let anyzhing happen to you. Before you leave, ask me, in front of Greza, to keep an eye on the estate until you are done vizh school. Zhat vay, you know zhat it vill be vatched properly."

"Baba," he said, crushing the hat to his chest. "I don't have anyzhing for you." He looks around and spots the plush. Running to the mirror, he picks it up and turns. "Vell...Baba, I vant you to keep zhis. I...I don't really need her. I can imagine, like I do vhen I can't reach her. Zhen, I know you really are vizh my soul." Clutching the hat, he wipes a tear from his eye. "I love you, Baba."

"Nicolai, I love you too."