Chapter 26 Well, That Didn't Work

Harry's POV

After lunch the first thing that Harry did was track down the Grey Lady. She was an elusive ghost, but he finally caught up with her after about an hour later, somewhere on the seventh floor. She was floating back and forth in front of a tapestry that depicted a man teaching something large and ugly how to dance. He had no idea what these creatures were, and really never wanted to meet one.

"My Lady, may I have a moment of your time?" he called, ready to cast his spirit bubble if she was hard-headed, which he had been told she could be. "I can help you with some of your past, if you hear me out," he cajoled, coming close to her slowly as if approaching a wild scared kitten.

The sad female spirit glided nearer, and asked, "How can you do such a thing? And what part of my dismal past can you help with? I have heard this promise before, and was used and discarded. So what can you offer that they could not?" She was wary; the last student she talked to did her a great disservice. What could this child know? There were many things in her past that were hidden and lost in history. Most of the people in this castle didn't even know her name, let alone her sins.

"Well, before we begin with all that, I'm Harry Potter and I have amnesia, so I don't know much about you or the history of this school. But, I did talk to the Bloody Baron and I've thought of a way to get him to move on. Do you want him gone?" Harry inquired as he moved closer to the very attractive apparition.

"What do you know of that vile man?" she hissed, hating that anyone would bring him up in front of her.

"Nothing really," the teen confessed, raising his hands compliantly. "But, if you want to tell me the story that's fine, if not that's cool too." He shrugged; he wasn't going to push her into confessing what seemed to be hurting her. All he knew from Luna was that this ghost was sad, and that she hated the Baron for some reason. The story is that he had something to do with her death, but no one knows exactly what.

She drifted there undecided, if what he said was true then she would no longer have to look at her murderer. She could rid herself of that burden and perhaps not be quite so depressed. "Well met, Harry Potter. I am the Lady Helena Ravenclaw," she finally introduced herself with a regal nod of her head.

That made Harry startle, he had no idea that she was from one of the Founders' families. He wondered what she did to be bound to the castle; she seemed like an innocent woman. "Well met," he said as he nodded his head in reply.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, what has that lout told you?" she asked, wondering if the Baron had made it seem her fault that they were forever damned. She would not put it past that wretched man.

"He merely asked that I ask you to speak with him. He didn't tell me why. I just figured out that his bloody robes and his desperate desire to talk to you, and your sadness must go hand in hand. But, like I said, you don't have to tell me anything. All I'm offering is to give you a chance to tell him what you think of him, or hear him out, either way, he may say his piece and move on," the dark-haired wizard said as he sat on one of the windowsills and swung his legs in a lazy manner.

Before, he hadn't cared what happened with these two ghosts, they were just echoes of the past that was never released. Now, he did have a bit of anger towards the Baron for making a deal with Snape. But he could see the spirit's point of view, in that he was trying to make things better for the students. And looking at the miserable woman in front of him, he felt like maybe she could finally get some things off her chest and not be so gloomy.

This gave Helena pause, after all these years was she ready to face the man? She had avoided him for over one thousand very sad and anger filled years. Maybe she could be a bit Slytherin and hear him out and then pretend to forgive him. Then he'd be gone, and she would no longer have to gaze upon him and see her blood line his robes. Then the only thing keeping her here would be the taint on her mother's diadem. She glanced at the child in front of her shrewdly. "Tell the Baron that I will hear him out, however, I require a boon."

"Really? Pray tell," Harry said, looking at her with a tilted head.

"I need you to find and destroy my mother's diadem. Tom Riddle, or as you know him, Voldemort, has desecrated it into an abhorrent thing. It is in a hidden room here within the castle walls, contaminating the very air with its turpitude. It can only be destroyed by basilisk venom or Fiendfyre. Do this and I will speak to that horrible man." She floated back and forth with worry and nerves. If this worked out she could finally rest in peace. Then she would be able to look upon her mother and not feel as remorseful. It was all that man's fault that she never got to see her mother's last moments of life. If he had been kinder, she would have gone to her and confessed her sin, and all would have been forgiven, she was sure.

"That is something I cannot grant, sorry," he said, shaking his head with some understanding. He wanted to help, but he would have no clue as to how. "First off, I have no idea as to where to get the venom, or how to create Fiendfyre. Secondly, I've no memory of this castle or its layout, so I wouldn't even know where to begin to look," he lied, mostly. He knew the snake was in the Chamber of Secrets, and Hermione could take him there, but he had no idea where a crown could be hidden. There was no way he was going to get into something that mysterious or dangerous, not without a plan and some back up. He could go grab his friends and they could find the head piece and hide it until it could be destroyed. Or he could write to Mr. Waters, who would then talk to Madam Bones, and let them deal with it.

Helena hung her head and worried her lip, trying to think up a way to fix that. She wrung her hands and went over just how much to tell.

"However, what I can do, is tell the right people and they can take care of it," was the counteroffer, when he saw she was so desperate.

"I can tell you the room which it hides. Please, do this for me and I will grant you any boon, even speak to the man whose hands are stained with my blood," she all but begged. She was so tired; her existence was morbid and melancholy. Unlike the other spirits that haunted these halls, who seemed at peace with their fate, she and the Baron were doomed to be forever in unrest. Well, there was Moaning Myrtle, but that child enjoys being despondent.

"Okay, I can take a look, but I can't promise to be able to abolish it," Harry compromised sincerely, that would take less planning, and it would help the lady in distress. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to take a gander at the thing, who knows what he could learn.

"Very well," Helena sighed as she just hovered there, as if waiting for something. Her face took on a determined look, like she was going into battle.

Harry's heart went out to her; it couldn't be easy to face the guy that killed you. He felt a little bad for bringing this about, but it might end her turmoil. Now, all he had to do was find the bloody ghost, who just happened to appear, right when he was going to get up.

The Bloody Baron came through the wall as if he had been waiting for her consent, which he had. He stood in front of his lady love with a desperate look of longing on his face. "Lady Helena, for a thousand years my heart has mourned for what I did to you. It was unjust and immoral. I have done my penance, and know what I did was very, very wrong. I know how painful it is for you to look upon me. Please, my love, forgive me so that I may finally leave you in peace." He looked for a moment like he would take her hand, but her icy glare stayed his movements.

"I hate you with every fiber of my being," she hissed, drifting closer to the man she has despised for many years. "I would rather see you burn in the pits of Hell before I forgive you. You are a petty and cruel man that I would never have married. I would have seen myself dead before I lay in your bed. All it took was me saying no to you once, and you lashed out and murdered me, all the while professing your love," she spat. One look at his face and all thoughts of pretending forgiveness flew out the window. The scene from her death played over and over in her head. The look of anger that had lined his face and the feel of the knife as he stabbed her many times was overriding her senses. She threw back her head and flung out her arms and screamed to the air in anguish, making everyone within a hundred feet wonder what was happening.

Damien hung his head in sorrow. Would he be forever doomed to wander these halls? Never to speak to the woman he loved in anything but anger? He, like Helena, was very tired, if a ghost can feel such. All hopes of forgiveness died with that wail. He stared and her and also fell into the scene of their last moments as living people. He moaned deeply in despair, causing Harry to shift nervously.

"Ummm… well… ummm… Lady Ravenclaw can come and find me when it's all hashed out," Harry said hurriedly, getting off the windowsill and sidling down the wall. He wanted to get away from the two feuding ghosts. That scream pierced his heart, making him wonder just how brutal her death was. Oh, he guessed that it had been a murder, just from the state of the Baron's robes, and what she shouted, but there was an underlying something that he didn't know. That and the Baron's moan also indicated that there was something more to the whole story.

The Grey Lady continued to yell vitriol at the Baron as our hero rabbited down the hall. He heard the bell and went to wait for his friends. He'd tell them what happened, in one of the receiving rooms. They all met in the Entrance Hall and Harry took them to one of the rooms. When they all entered, he threw up a ward. "Well, that didn't work," he said as he slumped in one of the chairs.

"Do you know who was wailing and moaning? I thought it was Myrtle, but it's in the wrong part of the castle," Hermione asked as she took a seat. She had been in DADA when the screams and moans fill the air. It had set shivers down her spine.

"That was the Grey Lady," Luna informed her airily. "She is confronting her murderer as we speak. I suspect we will hear more soon." She too felt the anguish of the ghost, and knew that it was the Grey Lady. The only thing that would have made her wail like that was the Bloody Baron.

"How could you possibly know that?" the bushy-haired teen asked, turning to the girl she thought of as ditzy. She still didn't believe the little blonde was a seer.

"She's right, that's who it was. It's partially my fault," Harry stated with gloom in his voice. He waved them all silent and told them of his talk between both ghosts. Even the part about what had happened on the night of his disappearance.

There were gasps and shrewd looks among his friends. They were equally saddened for the ghosts, but angry at Snape.

"I do hope that the Baron passes on, I hate to see Lady Ravenclaw so sad," was Luna's comment.

"Yeah, that scream was heart-rending," Harry agreed with a nod and a full-body shiver. He never wanted to hear something like that again.

"Well, there is little to do but wait. What do you plan on doing about Snape?" Neville asked, hoping the man would be more embarrassed than he was with the dress prank, which he now ignored. It was still hilarious to see the man when it hit, but not quite as fun as when he tried to rid himself of it, all the while yelling that he was going to get Black back.

"Yeah, Harry, what's the plan?" the twins asked, perking up.

"Oh, I have a plan, alright. I'm going to out two people during the first task, but I need your help," the amnesiac said with a wicked grin, and then laid out his plan to them.

This made the boys and Luna cackle with glee. Hermione got a look on her face as if she was undecided as to what to think. On one hand, Snape was a teacher. On the other hand, he was partly responsible for Harry's condition. She weighed what she knew and looked at her best friend's face. She listened with her eyes and nodded her head. She'd stick with Harry.