CH40 - Talk of the Town

Tugging his toque over his ears, Edmund ducked into an empty classroom in one of the more isolated towers of Hogwarts. The area was odd, filled with metal dividers that separated the desks from one another into cubicles. The location had once been used for Alchemy lessons for sixth and seventh-year Hogwarts students, back when there was more interest in the class. Unfortunately, that had been many years ago, and most were unaware that Alchemy had even been an option once upon a time.

The last year the course was offered was almost forty years ago when Albus Dumbledore was still the instructor. Participating in such a class would be a dream for Edmund but not one he would allow himself to ruminate on.

Picking an alcove next to a window, Edmund set his bag down. The rotting wooden bench sitting next to it was covered with a thick layer of dust, an issue quickly resolved with a Tergeo.

With a groan, Edmund plopped onto the seat, massaging his muscles—still sore from his morning workout—with his hands. The secluded nature of the tower was one he was feeling especially grateful for. Edmund was well-recognized as a talented student in the past, but his name seemed to be on everyone's lips in the past week. His undefeated streak throughout the qualifiers and tournament had become public knowledge, fascinating whoever learned of it. Edmund's opposition in the finals, Kevin Bletchley, was not well-liked by his peers either, which made his vanquisher even more popular.

Of course, not everyone was impressed. The duelling lesson had been for first-years, so most of the older kids were dismissive of its results. How much damage could a firstie do with the elementary spells available to them?

Edmund was conscious that the subject of chatter in the castle switched constantly and that his newfound 'fame' would be short-lived; in fact, it was something he was appreciative of. But until then, he would do his best to avoid crowds outside of class.

Blowing softly to cool the beverage, Edmund took a small sip from the flask full of steeped tea in his hands.

He inhaled deeply through his throat, enjoying the sensation of the cold air warming suddenly within him.

"Haaaahhh," he exhaled. "This is the life."

Rather than combat, Edmund had found himself more appreciating the casual uses of magic. The thermos he held was internally expanded, spill-proof, with ever-heating charms layered upon it. The way in which magic increased convenience in day-to-day life was indeed a beautiful thing.

His train of thought was cut off abruptly by a sound to the left of him, coming from behind one of the partitions.

"It has been many moons since anyone has visited this area," a distinctly female voice said curiously.

The bottle in Edmund's grasp was tipped upwards in shock, burning his mouth because of the flood of hot liquid that poured inside it. He hissed in pain as he withdrew his wand and swiftly knocked down the barrier separating him from the intruder.

His look of annoyance faded away at the sight before him, leaving only caution behind. He recognized the person instantly but had not identified their voice. How could he? So few of the living had ever heard it.

Her tone was soft yet clear and just the slightest bit haunted. Edmund knew that a ghost's vocal cords could not become dysfunctional with disuse, but that was what he would best describe the Grey Lady's manner of speech as. She was sprawled lazily upon an old velvet stitched chaise, a heavy tome on the small table directly in front of her. Her face was neutral, but her eyes held a hint of interest.

"My Lady," Edmund inclined his head downwards.

She merely nodded back, before continuing.

"Tell me. The passages leading to this part of the castle have been sealed for decades. The only company I get here are the house-elves; they, too, come very infrequently. How did you stumble upon this area," she half-whispered melodically.

"The hallways may have been shut," Edmund corrected with a shrug, "but the secret passageways have not. I enjoy exploring the castle."

The Grey Lady tilted her head and nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose I already knew that, didn't I?"

Edmund arched his eyebrows in question, looking at her suspiciously.

"Ghosts love to partake in gossip. Our properties make us particularly good at gathering it," she replied with the faintest upturn of the corners of her mouth.

Edmund's eyes did not waver from hers. He could feel there was more to the story than she was saying.

"But," the Grey Lady paused, "I will admit that I have been keeping a close eye on you."

Edmund grimaced, his jaw clenching. The Grey Lady ignored his apparent discomfort.

"Talented and powerful, a rare combination. Even more surprisingly, you're not a loner. You're friendly, even. Not somebody stuck in their fantasies and plans for the future," she summarized. "Capable of bypassing the library's wards as a first-year—"

Edmund was rattled by that but kept his emotions contained through his occlumency.

"—and finding my mother's room and making use of it," she finished, looking for his reaction.

Edmund remained stoic.

"You are not confused or even surprised by what I have said," the Grey Lady said vaguely.

"I know of your identity," Edmund confirmed.

Her eyes sparkled in response.

"Do not be worried. It is no crime to use the Room of Requirement. I dare say that my mother crafted the room with users like you in mind," she reassured before adding unashamedly. "I will confess that I attempted to peek in to see what you were doing. That night, your presence in the library startled me, and I wished to investigate. Perhaps it was punishment for my nosiness that had me violently repelled from the room you summoned. I must commend you. It takes someone very meticulous and paranoid to consider trespassing by ghosts."

Edmund said nothing, but his gaze turned steely.

The Grey Lady crinkled her lips at that, giving him an embarrassed half-smile.

"I have overstepped. I apologize. I suppose I need to work on my 'not-threatening' skills, don't I? I am unused to conversing with others," she confessed. "I do not have to worry about the implications of my words within my head. I seem to have forgotten how to."

Edmund sighed, relaxing slightly. He still felt wary of the mysterious woman, but it seemed she had no immediate plans to make life difficult for him.

"You've seen thousands of students come and leave this castle. What makes me special enough to talk to?" Edmund asked politely.

"I did not intend to. It was simple curiosity, initially. Your friend Luna told me about you, among many other things. Some of which, I rather doubt the veracity of," the Grey Lady revealed amusedly.

"Luna is a good person," Edmund defended.

"One of the best," she agreed. "I see hints of myself in her the more time I spend with her. Brave, intelligent beyond measure. So much potential, hindered by a little timidness and vulnerability."

"If you think Luna is timid, you don't know her at all," Edmund laughed. "And her potential might be wasted at Hogwarts, but she will thrive outside of it."

The Grey Lady hummed thoughtfully, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"But my curiosity has given way to something else. I can see it now, you know? The recent fascination with you. The way you act, the way you walk. It is reminiscent of so few others that I have seen. And believe me, I have seen the greats. As you said, many have walked these halls. I have watched as magical titans blossomed, growing into the people they were known as from little boys and girls eager to cast their first Lumos. Merlin, Dumbledore, and even Voldemort," she spat. "No matter how promising they are when they are young, they only scare me more as their power increases."

"Power doesn't necessarily make someone worse," Edmund countered. "It only lowers their inhibitions. It is just a sad truth that almost everyone has inner demons that influence them, some to greater degrees than others."

"Perhaps, or perhaps absolute power corrupts absolutely," the Grey Lady remarked. "You are right, regardless. I should not judge based on my own anecdotal evidence, should I? My mother would be ashamed of me if I did. Let's start from the beginning, then. My name is Helena Ravenclaw."

She stuck her hand out for him to shake. It was a gesture that would have made Edmund laugh had it been initiated by any other ghost.

Instead, he merely introduced himself in kind while clasping his hand in hers. "Nice to meet you, Helena. My name is Edmund Cole."

A gust of wind blew through the windows, bringing a flurry of falling snow with it. The book Helena had opened on the desk flipped through several pages, making the ghost click her tongue in irritation.

"What were you reading?" Edmund asked inquisitively.

"It is a study on the empathy of various species of nesting dragons. The experiment aimed to determine which breeds of dragons are willing to raise a clutch of eggs that the mother of a different breed has abandoned. The eggs were left within their enclosure for the dragons to do with as they please, and their actions were observed," she explained.

"Fascinating," Edmund muttered.

"But cruel," she frowned. "Dragon eggs need to be supplied with the correct amount of heat to be able to hatch, which is why eggs that have no one to care for them are typically given to mothers of the same species for the best chance of survival. With too high or low of a temperature, the egg dies. The mothers who actually demonstrated the desire to raise the stranger's chicks ended up killing them with their breath."

Edmund winced.

"If the eggs were going to remain with them either way, it doesn't really matter, does it? They were dead no matter what. It's better to try and fail than never to try at all. Keeps the conscience clear," Edmund commented.

Helena paused, scrutinizing him.

"I agree," she said eventually. "You are right."

Edmund scoffed playfully.

"Of course I am. What? You think your word is gospel just because you're a Ravenclaw?" he taunted.

"No," she dismissed, "but it probably makes me smarter than you, at least."

They both chuckled heartily.