QLFC Round 6
Montrose Magpies
Chaser 2
Prompt: Jenny of Oldstones
Extra prompts: 3 (pairing) a rare pair, 13 (theme) death, 14 (weather) rainy
Word Count: 2,164 words
6th year.
Despite being Ravenclaw's House ghost, the Grey Lady preferred to spend large amounts of her time reading in the Gryffindor Tower when it was quiet. It was one of her favorite places.
Conveniently enough, Hermione Granger shared the same preference.
The first time Hermione had seen the famed Grey Lady had been one rainy, random Friday afternoon. Ron and Harry were serving detention (for what, she wasn't exactly sure; she had stopped keeping track at this point) and the rest of the Gryffindor House was out celebrating their most recent Quidditch win over Hufflepuff (ironically, in the Hufflepuff Common Room).
Hermione had taken advantage of a quiet Common Room for the first time in ages to settle down and catch up on some free reading while she had the chaince (Numerology, by L. Wakefield, a book on Arithmancy).
The night was cold and rain was pattering gently against Gryffindor Tower's shuttered windows. Hermione had curled up under a red and gold blanket in a large red armchair nearest to the central fireplace in the Common Room. She was paging through Numerology, slowly but steadily, when she felt a cold breeze drift across her.
Hermione shivered and drew the blanket closer about her, looking up to see if any window had been carelessly left open.
There was none.
However, there was a shimmering, grey ghost sitting in the armchair across from her, carelessly flipping through a book of her own, a heavy, black edition Hermione could not recognize.
Her curiosity got the best of her. Throughout her time at Hogwarts, Hermione had learned it was better to not approach ghosts, even the ones she recognized, but she recognized this one, and even though they had never spoken, she took the plunge.
"You're Helena Ravenclaw, aren't you?"
The ghost sniffed and continued turning pages aimlessly. It was obvious she wasn't reading.
She was a pretty, young-looking ghost with sharp features and dark hair.
"What is the Ravenclaw House ghost doing in Gryffindor Tower?" Hermione went on, unable to stop herself.
Helena Ravenclaw threw aside her book with disdain and it clattered to the floor loudly.
"I don't talk to anyone who's not in my house," she announced.
"You just said something to me," Hermione pointed out.
Helena narrowed her eyes at Hermione and crossed one leg over the other.
"You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"
"I - "
The ghost cut Hermione off:
"You were supposed to be in Ravenclaw."
"And yet I ended up in Gryffindor," Hermione answered irritably. "You're still talking to me."
"Ravenclaw, almost Sorted into Ravenclaw, same thing," Helena answered carelessly, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back. Her gray dress billowed out around her legs and she smoothed it down. For the first time, Hermione noticed the blood stains.
"Is that blood - " she was unable to stop herself from asking, and Helena interrupted her once again.
"Yes. It is. I was murdered. In this very dress. They say you're the smartest girl in the year, but you do ask the stupidest questions, don't you?"
Hermione was taken aback. Without thinking, she mumbled,
"I still don't understand why you're talking to me. And why you're in the Gryffindor Tower in the first place."
Helena glared at her. She stood and gathered her skirts about her.
"Ravenclaw prizes intelligence and creativity," she announced haughtily. "No wonder the Hat ultimately put you into Gryffindor."
She flounced off and disappeared through the wall next to the fireplace.
—
The next time Hermione saw the Grey Lady was merely coincidence. She was hurrying down an empty corridor, arms wrapped around a bundle of books, intent on arriving at the library before her favorite table was taken. Her urgent journey, however, was impeded as she flew into someone, scattering her books all over the ground and landing on the hard cobblestones herself.
Hermione moaned slightly, a hand on her now scraped knee and ripped tights.
"Why don't you watch where you're going - " she started furiously, looking up, and stopped in her tracks as she stared into the cold gaze of Helena Ravenclaw.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" the Grey Lady retorted frostily, eyes narrowing in disapproval. "The library isn't going to disappear."
"How did you know - "
"I'm a ghost. I know everything," Helena announced snippily before Hermione could even finish her question. "I spend quite a lot of time in the library, myself. They really ought to update the Charms section."
Despite herself, a faint smile crossed Hermione's face, and to her utter surprise, Helena Ravenclaw waved her hand slightly, gathering the books in a neat stack and offering them to Hermione.
Hermione took them gratefully, and for a split second, Helena's hand passed through her own. Despite the cold exterior, the ghost's hand was warm and sent a thrill through Hermione.
"Thank you."
"Shall we walk together?" Helena suggested, ignoring Hermione's thanks. "I was headed there myself."
Hermione accepted in a bewildered haze, wondering just what she had done to attract the attention of the notoriously hostile Grey Lady.
—
In her years at Hogwarts, and there had been many, Helena Ravenclaw had avoided consorting with the vast majority of students. She found them grimy, ungrateful, and unintelligent, and was even unable to tolerate a large number of the students in her own House.
However, ever since Harry Potter stepped foot in the castle, Helena had paid close attention to the students in his year. She had attended his Sorting, although she generally tended to skip Sortings, and idly listened as the students were sorted until Potter's name came up.
She had been aware of James Potter and his rowdy gang of Marauders during their time at Hogwarts and had found them most despicable, as they enjoyed causing chaos in the library when she was trying to read peacefully, and seemed to have a personal vendetta against her Ravenclaws.
Nonetheless, she had watched Harry Potter and his little gang closely, especially having experienced the First Wizarding War and knowing his potential and history. Over time, she had grown drawn to the female of the trio, a bushy-haired Hermione Granger, closely observing how she saved the boys over and over again without fail. It was because of Hermione Granger that she came to spend so much of her time in the Gryffindor Tower, invisibly watching the three and coming to the conclusion that Hermione should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. She had felt some inexplicable longing to pick Hermione's brain since she had heard the girl speak for the first time, but the opportunity had not presented itself until the chance meeting in Gryffindor Tower, when Hermione was at last separated from any Housemates.
Helena's interest in Hermione had deepened after their first brief conversation and she had taken to following the girl around since then.
Now, she glided silently alongside the bushy-haired Gryffindor, unsure where to start a discussion and feeling oddly nervous. Helena had always been insecure of her own intelligence, especially with her mother being the founder of Ravenclaw House, and under normal circumstances was defensive and belligerent towards those she knew were smarter than here.
These were not normal circumstances.
The pair entered the library and a few students picked their heads up at the sight of Hermione Granger being trailed by Ravenclaw's House ghost. A pair of young girls in she recognized from her own House put their heads together and whispered something, and Helena bristled instinctively.
Hermione seemed to notice none of it.
She confidently strode to the very back of the library and set her books down gently before beginning to remove parchment, ink and quill from her bag.
Helena lingered, now unsure of herself for some inexplicable reason. Hermione was already busy scratching out paragraphs. For the first time in her long life, Helena found herself impressed at the dedication Hermione seemed to show.
She finally elected to seat herself across from the Gryffindor girl and watched her work curiously. Hermione wrote furiously without pause, not even stopping to check a page in the open Potions book she had in front of her. When she lifted her head, Helena took the opportunity to speak:
"Potions was always my favorite."
Her voice cut through the silence that draped over the library, stirred only by the soft pelting of rain against the castle walls.
"I hate it," Hermione answered. "Too many methods. Not enough logic."
"I enjoyed the mathematical aspect of it," Helena countered. "There was logic in the measurement and combination of ingredients."
"Not enough," Hermione muttered.
"You complain about the lack of logic in a subject," Helena observed. "And yet you were still sorted into Gryffindor."
Hermione laid her quill to the side now and leaned forward slightly in her seat. Helena felt a thrill go through her. She had baited the Gryffindor.
"There is intelligence in bravery," Hermione said softly. "And strength. Knowing when to fight the good fight, and when to give up. I've learned when I've had enough but I give it my all until I have. That is why I was sorted into Gryffindor."
"You would have learned differently had you been put in my House," the Grey Lady answered. She felt satisfied at Hermione's sharp response. Even more proof she had been a Ravenclaw.
"Respectfully, why are you so obsessed with where I was sorted?" Hermione asked. "Ultimately, the Hat leans towards one's personal preferences. Gryffindor has challenged me in ways Ravenclaw never would have. No offense. Plus, I've read about you, and what you've done. You should've been in Slytherin."
Helena was taken aback. She could not say a word.
"You're calculating and cunning," Hermione went on. "You were only interested in what benefited you the most. You stole your own mother's diadem because you were jealous of her. That screams Slytherin, doesn't it?"
Helena stood coldly.
"Clearly you are less intelligent than I thought," she retorted. "I am Ravenclaw through and through. Who's to say intelligence can't go along with calculation? The two thrive off each other."
"If you'll excuse me, I have work to do," Hermione responded. "I'd like to be left alone, now."
Helena did not need a second hint.
—
"...then she had the nerve to tell me I should've been put into Slytherin," Helena was complaining, pacing back and forth between the rows of empty desks in an abandoned classroom. "No offense."
The Bloody Baron, floating aimlessly at the front of the classroom and shaking his chains on occasion, rolled his eyes at that.
"She's right," he told her in his rasping voice. "You would've done well in my House. You can't deny that, Helena. You succeeded in Ravenclaw, but you would've thrived in Slytherin. There's no avoiding that fact. Must I remind you of the reason you died?"
"I was not meant to be in Slytherin!" Helena shrieked. "And the reason I died is because you are a bloodthirsty bastard who couldn't handle rejection!"
This did not seem to faze her murderer.
"Apologize to the girl," he said carelessly. "Don't apologize. But I can tell she means something to you, whatever that means. She'll be gone in a year and once again, you will have lost a student you have seen potential in simply because you refuse to leave these halls."
Helena sank into a seat, all the fight having gone out of her.
"Remember the last time a student meant something to me?" she asked quietly. "I will carry the shame and regret of trusting Tom Riddle for the rest of my infinite days. I will not make that mistake again. I cannot leave Hogwarts. This is my home. Here, I can protect my students from the atrocities of the outside world, where I could not even protect myself. I cannot risk a student being more than a student to me anymore."
"Then stay away from the girl."
"I have to," Helena murmured. "I cannot hurt another soul."
And she kept her word. For as long as she could, anyway.
—
After the disastrous ending to the conversation in the library, Hermione did not see or speak to Helena Ravenclaw until one week before summer holidays. She had more or less put the ghost out of her mind, and the intrigue she had felt towards the Grey Lady following their two interactions.
So she was most surprised when the ghost approached her in the girls' bathroom one Wednesday evening.
A warm summer rain drizzled outside but Hermione felt a cold breeze sweep through her and she looked up into the mirror to see Helena Ravenclaw standing behind her.
Hermione turned.
"I - "
"Let me speak," the Grey Lady interrupted. "I have done reflection since our last conversation in the library. I was wrong to have snapped at you. You are, to some extent, correct - I would have made a fine fit to the Slytherin House members. However, I wished to use my intelligence for good. That is why I was sorted into Ravenclaw."
"Is this an apology?" Hermione asked, somewhat harshly. The ghost had insulted her brains which was what she was most proud of.
A wisp of air seemed to exhale from Helena's lips.
"It is. I am sorry. I was hurt by your assumption that I ought to have been a Slytherin and as I came to find out…you were beginning to mean something to me. The last time that came to pass…something terrible happened."
"Tom Riddle," Hermione guessed.
"Yes."
"Intelligence doesn't mean cruelty," the Gryffindor said quietly. "It doesn't mean putting others down to come out on top and using your cleverness as means to excuse hurt."
Helena seemed to be taken aback by this.
"You were hurt?"
"You told me I was wrong. Of course I was hurt."
"I apologize," Helena repeated. "But that is only part of why I have sought you out again."
"Oh?"
"I imagine this could turn into a…friendship of sorts," Helena pressed on. "I would be quite honored if you would humor me with intellectual conversations of the sort in the future."
Hermione was quiet for a minute. Her thoughts were whirling.
"I'm honored as well at the request," she answered finally. "But, Helena - " and the ghost twitched as Hermione used her forename for the first time - "I'm leaving. And with the war…I'm not sure I'll be back."
"You could stay," the ghost urged. "You could stay here. You would thrive, I am sure of it. And you are the safest you could be within the castle walls."
But Hermione shook her head.
"I'm not so sure about that. I've read about Horcruxes…it's the only way Harry can stop Voldemort."
"You're choosing the fight," Helena said, and was it Hermione's imagination, or was there a tinge of sadness in the ghost's voice?
"I'm choosing the fight," Hermione confirmed. "I am a Gryffindor, after all."
There was a moment of silence, then the Grey Lady drew herself up.
"Very well. I always admired the bravery of Gryffindors. It is what sets them apart from Ravenclaws, in the end. You chose the right House. Goodbye, Hermione Granger, and good luck."
In a whirl, which left Hermione's hair flying about her, Helena Ravenclaw was gone, returning to her ghosts and the comforting halls of the castle she could never bear to leave.
Hermione turned to stare at herself in the mirror once more. A scared little girl looked back at her.
We will fight the good fight, and we will win, she thought to herself. This is what it has always been about. This is what it will always be about.
Then she too took her leave.