You know your life ain't normal when your proudest moment was when you were granted unfettered access to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library.

I wasn't even a little embarrassed to declare this to all and sundry, cementing my status as a giant fucking nerd. I am doubly proud to say that I achieved such carte blanche status through my only overt rule-breaking act during my Hogwarts career.

It had been halfway through my fourth year, when I handed in a request slip for a book to my Astronomy Professor, and then, in a stroke of sheer brilliance, removed the name of the book.

Thanks to vast improvements in magical library science, all I needed to access the hallowed bookcases of the Restricted Section was a signed permission slip – blank ones were available with relative ease from the circulation desk. Whatever spells and incantations that were imbued in that scrap of parchment were activated once it was signed by a teacher, allowing you to step over the rope that separated the Restricted Section from the rest of the library, without fear of the books attacking you.

When I'd had the idea to gently peel away the inked letters of the book from the permission slip, it had mostly been out of curiosity to see if it'd still work. Also, I'd been rather enamoured with the ink-removing spell I'd recently learnt. I still thank the sixth-year Gryffindor who'd shared that nifty stationary spell with me. I hope she's doing well these days.

I'd been pleasantly surprised – and quite relieved – to learn that yes, indeed, the permission slip worked just fine without a specific title mentioned on it. I've been using the same blank permission slip to wander these rows filled with mysteries deemed too dangerous, but still important, for growing young minds for over two years now. No book – or human authority figure – has yet yelled at me.

I couldn't help the small, triumphant smile that crossed my lips, as I stepped over the rope with practiced ease. It was the first week back at Hogwarts and nearing the senior students' curfew. Being still so early in the year, there were few people to be found in the library this late in the evening. But I loved coming here, no matter what time of the academic year it was. There was something so welcoming about this place. The space was large and often draughty, but those shelves, filled with the records of our shared collective consciousness, gave me such a warm and cosy feeling.

Rose and Scorpius, fulfilling the Ravenclaw stereotype to the letter, had left me alone at the library only an hour before. They'd said it was to do Head Student stuff, but I hoped they were canoodling instead.

My smile widened at the thought of two of my closest friends finally acknowledging that they were deeply and madly in love with each other. With thoughts of what I'd want their wedding to be like, I wandered almost without thought to the shelves of the Restricted Section that I visited the most. For reasons that remain unclear to me, the rest of the Hogwarts Library didn't have much to say on the subject of death. The Restricted Section, however, was another story.

The death collection was tucked right up against the far wall, enshrouded in more shadows than was physically possible. I'd been surprised when I'd first entered the Restricted Section, as it didn't look all that different from the rest of the library. It had the same oak shelves, the same iron sconces spaced out at the same distances, the same grey stone forming the outer walls. But the books on death apparently wielded their own mysterious magic, making that part of the library darker and chillier than the rest.

Talk about spooky. Was it so much to ask to peruse tomes about the extent of the ghostly planes in somewhat comfort? Why did the books have to make me feel like I was searching for illicit, forbidden magic? All I wanted was to learn about what I could do. To know that maybe, I wasn't alone.

As I reached the farthest row, I shrugged off my frustrations of having so many questions and so few answers. Pulling down the sleeves of my sweater, I straightened my shoulders, and pulled out my wand. Its tip glowed a bright white light with a mere thought, and I strode the final few steps with renewed purpose. This was going to be my last year of having access to such a vast collection of knowledge. This could possibly be my last chance to find some answers about the mysteries of life after death for a very long time, and I wasn't about to waste it by letting the ambience of all things get me down.

Reaching the beginning of the row, I held my wand high, letting its light cast as wide a circle as possible over the space, and took a deep, fortifying breath. I didn't have all that much time tonight, but I wanted to bookmark at least a couple of promising books. I had a full schedule of NEWT-level classes, with no free periods, so it was likely that I would only have a chance to return for a deeper read on the weekends. It wasn't as if I could casually borrow a book on death and take it up to Gryffindor Tower for a bit of light, bedtime reading, without raising a few eyebrows.

The shelves on either side of me extended into a soft darkness. Lowering my arm, I approached the shelf where I'd left off before the summer break.

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Aah!" I yelped, quickly turning around and extending my wand out, frantically hoping its light would illuminate this intruder. I'd registered the prickling on the back of my neck half a second too late to contain my surprise at the ghostly figure that had greeted me.

In the harsh light of my wand, Regulus Black looked truly ghostly. His fair skin was chalk-white, with almost a blue-green tinge to it, his dark black hair almost being swallowed by the darkness behind him. His all-black get-up didn't really help matters, either. If I didn't know any better, he could've been mistaken for a modern-day Grim Reaper.

His smirk widened into a grin. "Didn't scare you, did I, Ellie?"

I couldn't help my eyeroll as I relaxed my arm. I really needed to remember to bring a lantern next time. My puny, little arms couldn't handle the workout. "You surprised me, that's all," I said, trying to do a little damage control. I liked to think that nothing could really ruffle my feathers, least of all a dead ex-Death Eater.

Clearly, Regulus thought otherwise, judging by his continued grinning. "And here I thought ghosts couldn't sneak up on you. You are a seasoned professional, after all."

I folded my arms in defence, realising too late that it made my wand stick almost straight up, painting us with shadows. I frowned, and relaxed my arms once again, keeping my light steadily on Regulus' face. Those few seconds had been too eerie, making me wonder about the atrocities he must've committed in the name of Lord Voldemort. Not exactly what you wanted to be thinking about when you were alone with a young man you didn't even know, even if he was dead.

"What do you want?" I asked, reiterating my question from our first frustrating encounter.

"What are you looking for, here, Ellie?" he asked instead of answering my question. He looked around, and I watched as his eyes caught on the names on the spines. "Answers, I suppose," he muttered, his voice taking on a thoughtful note, his lips falling into a more serious line. His eyes abruptly flicked back to me.

I stood there in silence, a little stunned by the intensity in the ice blue of his irises. Goosebumps rose on my arms and legs, and it felt as if the temperature dropped by a couple of degrees. Blinking to break the moment, I croaked out, "I really do want to help you, if I can."

The corners of his mouth flicked up into a sad, little smile.

"I've helped others before – others like you," I continued. There was something so defeated in that smile that I didn't like at all.

"I'm sure you have," he murmured. "But I'm also sure that you've never met someone like me before."

I frowned, puzzled and a little irritated at his words. Things would be so much bloody easier if people didn't talk in riddles. "I'm not sure what you mean…" I said, trying to keep my cool. "You're definitely dead, right? We established this last time?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked forward and backwards on his feet, a jaunty smile on his face. "Yup!" he chirped. "One hundred percent dead! For a very long time, too!"

"Yes," I said, continuing to frown, as I remained baffled by the whole situation. I'd met heaps of ghosts who didn't want to move on – that was more often the case than not – but there was something just off about this guy. Why was he so cheery about the whole situation? "You've been dead for over forty years."

He beamed. "You remembered!"

"How could I forget?" I muttered. "It's not every day that a Death Eater appears out of thin air in your kitchen, especially these days."

"Ex-Death Eater," he corrected. I'd left the "ex" part out on purpose, just to see how he'd react. His mood hadn't changed at the omission. "Granted, I rejected that particular label only a few moments before my exit from this mortal plane, but I think it's an important distinction to make, in the grand scheme of things."

I raised my eyebrows. It may not have ruffled him, but he was clearly pedantic about it. "Sorry. I'll keep that in mind."

I was a little blown away by the smile he gave me at my words. It was as if… it was… actually… genuine? In our very short acquaintance, I'd got the distinct impression that Regulus Black was many things, but genuine was likely not one of them.

"I'm still not sure what I can do for you," I said, returning to my earlier point, and what I'd come to think of as the reason I had this "special talent".

"Not much, probably," he replied, carrying on in that cheery tone, which continued to confuse and frustrate me.

"Um… I guess that brings me back to the main point, then – why are you here?"

"Why are any of us here?" he countered.

Oh, I was not going to have an existential discussion with a dead Regulus Black, of all people. I could imagine that talking about our purpose in life became only muddier when it concerned our purpose in death.

I pursed my lips in annoyance, and he laughed, the sound harsh and gravelly. "For once, I'm here to help you."

"What –?" I began, but Regulus interrupted, a slight frown crinkling between his eyebrows.

"Someone's coming," he said, before blinking out of existence, making me take a step back in surprise at the suddenness. A few breaths later, he was back, with that annoying smirk on his face. "I think I'll stick around for this," he almost cackled. "Not much entertainment to be had in the afterlife."

"So you've mentioned," I muttered, frustration heating my skin all over.

"Who on earth are you talking to, Anderson?" a voice asked from the darkness.

"Potter!" I am a little embarrassed to admit that, for the second time this evening, I whirled and yelped. I was learning that whirling and yelping are not particularly fun things to do. "What are you doing here?" I asked – well, accused – as I steadied my wand in his direction, letting the glow from its tip illuminate him. Regulus was standing between us, at the soft edges of the light.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, folding his arms, letting the light from his wand point upwards.

"I was – um – looking for a book, obviously," I snapped back. I tried to shake off my surprise – it was messing with my ability to think up a plausible explanation as to why I was here, in the death section, of all places. And why he may or may not have heard me chatting away with Regulus Black, of all people.

His eyes flicked around, taking in the books around him. "What kind of book were you looking for in the Restricted Section?"

"The kind of book that is located in the Restricted Section." I was a little annoyed that I couldn't also fold my arms. I was feeling quite exposed to Potter's scrutiny without my puny, little arms to provide a shield.

Regulus snickered. My eyes flicked in his direction before I realised what I was doing. Too late, I flicked my eyes back to Potter, to find him looking right at Regulus.

My heart was racing. "What… are you looking at?" Potter asked, with a small frown. Paradoxically, my heart slowed down a little at his words. For a wild second, I'd thought that he could see Regulus, too. That my secret was out. I really couldn't handle it if Albus Potter learnt of another one of my secrets – especially one as big as this.

"I thought I saw –"

"A ghost?" Regulus asked, acting all innocent. This time, I resisted the urge to look his way, even though I really wanted to glare him into the bowels of the afterlife. He was clearly enjoying this, the bloody git.

"– A spider," I finished, still successfully not glaring at Regulus. There wasn't all that much to take away from this trip to the Restricted Section, so I'd take even this small victory.

Potter looked more carefully at Regulus. Regulus simply grinned and waved in return. Oblivious, Potter turned back to look at me. "I don't see anything. It's so dark in here."

Hopefully that meant that he couldn't really make out that all these books around him were about death. I didn't really care if Potter thought I was weird, but he was popular enough to influence what others thought about me, if he told them that I liked to read books about death. And it wasn't all that long ago that the word "death" was often followed by the word "eater". A practitioner of the Dark Arts was something not even I, a person who vehemently claimed that I didn't care what others thought of me, wanted to be labelled as.

"I think it's gone!" I said. God, talking to Potter, even for such a short amount of time was just so irritating.

"Nope!" Regulus chimed in, cheery as ever. "Still here! And still not a spider!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked again. "Isn't it almost curfew?" That should throw him off! Accusing me of being in the Restricted Section for no good reason, when he didn't have a good reason either!

Potter gave me a strange look. "Exactly. It's almost curfew. I'm double checking no one was still hanging around the library so late."

Right. I'd forgotten that Potter was a Prefect. Of course, he'd be both Quidditch captain and Prefect, being so perfect and popular. Everyone's favourite person, Potter was.

"Were you… meeting someone, here?" Potter asked. His tone tried for casual, but I could hear the underlying accusation.

"Yup!" Regulus answered.

"What? No!" I yelped. Again. Had to stop with all this yelping. So out of character for me. I was definitely the type to usually "say" things rather than "yelp" things.

"Rude," Regulus said. "Clearly, I'm nobody to you."

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to snap that I hadn't been meeting him at all! I really was in the Restricted Section to find a book!

"Really?" Potter asked. But it was a rhetorical question because he promptly raised his eyebrows and went on, "Because I could've sworn that I heard your voice just before."

Dammit. What to do now? I could make fun of him for hearing voices, but that seemed rude to all the people who had genuine auditory hallucinations. Or, I could lean into the accusation, and claim it as my own. If he thought I was a little batty, maybe he'd leave me alone.

"I… talk to myself… sometimes," I gritted out. Leaning in was turning out to be harder than I expected.

Regulus guffawed, which didn't help the situation. I gritted my teeth harder.

"No, you don't," Potter replied.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Regulus raise his eyebrows. "How does Albus Potter know whether or not you talk to yourself, Ellie?" he asked, the demon. It was a fair question, though. I'd been wondering the same thing.

"Contrary to what you think, Potter," I said, trying to keep my tone as even as humanly possible. "You do not know everything about me. I have… layers."

"What? Like an onion?" Regulus snorted.

"Well, more like cake," I muttered back.

"What was that?" Potter asked, taking a step closer. Damn my mouth! Who cared if I had layers like an onion or a cake?

"I said I had layers," I replied, resisting taking a step back myself to maintain the distance. I wasn't going to let Potter intimidate me!

"Like a cake," Regulus added.

Potter shook his head, as if to clear it. "So, you're telling me that you're here, in the Restricted Section, during the first week back at school, so close to curfew, to look for a book?"

"Yes," I replied.

"And that you're here by yourself."

"Yes."

"Completely alone."

"Yes."
"Completely alone," he reiterated. "As in, no one else is here with you?"

"Yes. As was established just mere moments before."

"And you suddenly talk to yourself?"

"Yes!" I cried, waving my hands in frustration, not caring that it made the light bounce around wildly. "How is me talking to myself whilst I searched for a book in the Restricted Section less believable than having a secret rendezvous?" I knew I was getting a bit screechy, but Potter always somehow managed to push all my buttons.

"This is better than that show with that redhead and the diner!" Regulus said, continuing to grin his wicked grin.

"I don't even know what you're talking about!" I cried, unsure if I was replying to Regulus or Potter.

"What book could you possibly be searching for in the first week of school?" Potter cried back, also waving his arms in frustration. "We basically have the same classes!"

"You're not doing Ancient Runes! Or Alchemy!"

"I had no idea your arguments were so pedantic!" Regulus said. "Kids these days!"

"This section does not have books on Ancient Runes!" Potter said, oblivious to Regulus' asides. I wish I could also be as oblivious.

"How would you know?" I asked. This argument was shaping up to be not my finest moment, but surely, surely, I had him there.

"Because the Ancient Runes books take up about half a shelf and are near the entrance."

Regulus gave Potter a weird look. "Are kids these days also giant fucking nerds, too? Because knowing where the Ancient Runes collection is located so specifically is something only giant fucking nerds would know."

I was also taken aback by Potter's very specific knowledge. "How the fuck do you know that?"
"I read!" he retorted.

"Oh," I muttered. Hadn't really pegged Potter as someone who read Ancient Runes texts – especially because he wasn't taking it this year. Maybe he was a giant fucking nerd. "I didn't know you could read." That dig was a little mean-spirited, even for me, but I really hadn't had many wins tonight.

Potter closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he said, with an air of forced calm. "Don't tell me what you were doing here. Just head straight to the Common Room."

"You could've said that like three minutes ago," I muttered, as I made to make my way past him, steadfastly ignoring Regulus, who had been far too amused by this very strange argument. I hoped that once I died, I wouldn't come back as whatever kind of ghost he was, because it seemed boring as hell, if watching two teenagers argue in a library passed as entertainment.

I was just a step past Potter when he said, "I know you're hiding something."

I stopped, too surprised at his words to really react any other way. My heart started racing again.

When I didn't say anything, he continued quietly, "You've always been hiding something. And I'm going to find out what it is."

"You're so fucking weird, Potter, you know that?" I replied. I didn't turn around to face him, just in case some of my panic had slipped into my expression. I was fairly confident that I'd managed to keep it out of my voice. "I have no idea why people like you when you throw out creepy accusations like that." More like creepily accurate accusations.

"Most people aren't you, Anderson," he replied. I could hear that annoying smirk of his in his voice.

"Just – keep your weird self away from me," I huffed, and quickly walked away.

I had one leg over the rope, when I turned to look back. I couldn't see Regulus anymore, but since that prickly feeling on the back of my neck was gone, he was likely gone, too. Potter, however, was standing a few rows away, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with an odd expression on his face.

Without many options as to what to do, I threw a sneer in his direction and swung my other leg over the rope, to head for the exit. This time, I didn't bother looking back.

AN: Hello, hello! Well, hasn't it been an age? (It has, I'm sorry.) Welcome, readers old and new! I managed to write a few chapters this past NaNo, so you'll be getting some new content. My eternal gratitude to Paula/crowsb4bros, who beta'd this chapter. She remains the queen of commas, in case you were wondering.

The whole layers thing is almost certainly inspired by Shrek, a DreamWorks production. The show Regulus talks about with the redhead and the diner is, of course, Riverdale, developed by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa.

Feedback is always appreciated – good and bad!

Adios, amigos! :D