Gildor Ravenwing of Seregon, or Gil, as he was affectionately known as, tucked a rogue lock of his straight, shimmering silver hair tipped with blood red behind his ear and he paused to look out of the window of the Gryffindor common room. It was raining and depressing, and that made Gil happy (but not really because he is gothic and is never truly happy). Jagged fingers of lightning tore the clouds apart and lit up the gloomy common room where Gil sat writing in his journal. Turning back to his diary, he tossed his head, his bangs falling delicately in front of his fathomless gray eyes that were the color of a stormy winter sky. Gil dipped his quill into the black inkwell that was black like his soul and then scratched out the last sentence in his journal in which he described the day's melodrama. Mulling momentarily over how to end his journal, he decided on ending it with some lyrics from a Simple Plan song, which was his favorite band which anybody could tell from just looking at his shirt because he was wearing a Simple Plan shirt.
How
could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
got nowhere to
run
the night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this
life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Gildor sang aloud the verse to the empty common room in his soulful, velvety voice. He was a good singer because he was the leader of his band Kill Me Quickly, the critically acclaimed punk rock band and he played bass guitar just like Pierre from Simple Plan. Just as Gildor finished serenading the empty common room, Melanie and Harry walked through the portrait hole.
"Oh! It's you, Gil. We were looking for you," said Melanie.
Gildor tossed his head in a half-hearted attempt to remove his bangs from his eyes, "I knew, of course," he said before adding, "Because I'm half-ghost."
Melanie's eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill over, "I'm sorry to interrupt your song."
"Nonsense, I knew you were coming because I am half-ghost and therefore, you could not interrupt me. I used my powers to time your entrance exactly with the end of my song. You should come to see my band. We're playing in Hogsmeade next weekend," said Gildor, closing his journal with his mind and turning his flashing silver eyes upon Melanie, who took a step back.
Harry blurted out, "Mel enlightened me to the fact that the blood of Ghosts flows in your veins and that you have the erudition to help us bring back my beloved godfather to the world in which he previously existed—the world of the living!"
Gildor paused thoughtfully, resting his pale, delicate hand beneath his equally pale and delicate chin.
Harry brought his hand to his forehead and clutched the arm of a chair, fearing that he would swoon beneath the weight of drama that had suddenly descended upon his shoulders, "I cannot, will not, accept the truths told to me by Dumbledore that a wizard cannot be brought back!"
Gil exclaimed in his mournful, gothic voice, "It can be done! I will help you because I, too, know the pain of losing someone so dear to my heart."
Gil turned towards the rain-battered window.
"Oh," Mel descended upon him, stroking his arm soothingly, "Have you lost a loved one to a curtain?"
"No," replied Gil, sadly. "But I am gothic, so I always feel like this."
"Oh," said Mel.
Gil turned to Harry, "Do you have a personal item belonging to the," he paused dramatically, "…deceased?"
"One moment," said Harry, his eyes lighting up as the gears in his head began to turn, "I shall venture to my dormitory and search."
Harry dashed up the steps to his dormitory, his footfalls fast and heavy. He threw open the door to his dorm and dove into his trunk, tossing aside various possessions and creating a mess until he found what he was looking for. He ran back into the common room and raised a dog-eared old school-issued scarf above his head triumphantly.
"A-ha!" he cried, brandishing the scarf that was so threadbare that it barely existed.
"Harry, that's your scarf," said Mel, "And it looks in pretty bad shape."
She tried to snatch it from Harry's hands, "Let me fix it for you! I know how to sew!"
Harry whirled the scarf from out of Mel's reach, "It's not the scarf, but rather what's on the scarf."
"What?" asked Mel, who was slightly confused.
"This cursed scarf yields my godfather's dog hair!" cried Harry triumphantly.
"I do not bring back dead dogs," sighed Gil, indignantly.
"My godfather was only sometimes a dog, but not very often," explained Harry.
"That makes sense," said Gil. He beckoned them to follow him through the portrait hole.
"We have to find a spot in the castle where it is safe and easy to extract a person from the land of the dead. Since I am half-ghost, I can find this place very easily," said Gil, tossing his head.
"Lead us, Gil! I can no longer bear to stand another moment without my beloved godfather!" cried Harry.
The trio followed Gil through the portrait hole, through what seemed like an endless amount of random hallways and corridors and up and down various staircases before Gil stopped in front of a broom closet.
"Are you sure this place is going to work?" asked Mel, doubtfully.
Gil brought his index finger to his pale lips and shushed Mel, "Yes, because I'm a half-ghost, I can tell that this closet is the most spiritually active point in the entire castle."
Gil seized the door knob with his hand, turned it, and flung it open. Harry and Mel followed Gil into the closet. Gil locked the door with his wandless magic because he was half-ghost.
"Your godfather's scarf, er-dog hair then, please?" Gil asked, extending a hand. Harry bequeathed his scarf that was covered in fine, black dog hair to Gil. Gil produced his collapsible cauldron and began to set it up on the dusty floor. He plucked a dog hair from the scarf and dropped it into the cauldron before adding a few vials of liquids of varying colors. Mel watched, transfixed by the skillfulness of Gil's delicate hands.
"You must be quite skilled or perhaps you have done this numerous times," said Harry, "because you do not use a set of instructions."
"I'm half-ghost," said Gil as he prodded the flames beneath the cauldron with his wand. He straightened up. A faint green glow filled the room, illuminating Gil's silvery orbs and river of silvery hair tipped with red.
"Okay," said Gil, "It's ready."
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Authors' Notes:
Gillikin: Lyssoh wrote this!
Lyssoh: We don't own Harry Potter lol!
