Work Text:
There wasn’t much the little ghost lady remembered of the day she died. She couldn’t recall how long ago it had been, nor how exactly her life had ended. The only thing she did remember was how hard she had found it to adjust to her new life-after-death.
She had heard of ghosts before, of course; after all, who hadn’t? She just would have imagined becoming one herself to feel different. She would have thought that maybe there would be a big light at the end of a dark tunnel, at the end of which she’d get a choice; or maybe her life flashing in front of her inner eye; or even an all-consuming pain as her life was ripped from her body and her heart stopped, although maybe that was a little dramatic.
The truth, she had to admit, had been rather underwhelming in comparison. One day, she had opened her eyes and found herself to be a ghost; anything which had happened before, as much as it vexed her, she had forgotten.
One thing did strike her as odd, however. She would have thought that as a ghost she would be able to move objects, rattle some chains or slam some doors. But she very quickly found that everything she tried to touch just passed through her as if she was nothing but air.
Not even the people she tried to scare by moaning and screaming in the middle of the night cared for her effort. It took her some time to figure out that this wasn’t because she didn’t do a good job, but because they somehow just couldn’t hear her.
She had no idea what was wrong, because one thing she remembered distinctly was that ghosts passed their times by frightening unsuspecting mortals. It escaped the little ghost lady why this wasn’t working for her, and whether this was a ghostly problem in general, or if it was just her.
It was a lonely after-life she lived; haunting houses and setting up pranks wasn’t particularly fun when no one was there to appreciate it. She saw families come and go from the house she not-lived in, and with every new one the little ghost lady grew increasingly bored.
Until the Coppers moved in.
The Coppers had a son, a little boy called Ben. He was a scrawny little kid, with big brown eyes, and sandy blond hair. The little ghost lady grew fond of him quickly; Ben was easily scared and for some miraculous reason, he was able to see her.
The little ghost lady did her best spookery to impress tiny Ben Copper, giggling to herself when he ran screaming from his room. She would make a game of following him around, telling him stories she made up on the spot and embellishing them with the most gruesome details she could think of.
One day a letter arrived for Ben, written on heavy parchment in emerald ink. She hovered just over his shoulder and blew her icy breath into his neck as they both read it.
Would you look at that, she thought. Little Cry-Benny was a wizard.
There was much confusion and excitement in the Copper household as a witch in robes as emerald as the ink on the letter arrived to explain everything to Ben’s scared parents. But out of the three, Ben seemed to be frightened the most at the prospect of leaving his home and moving to a school far away, full of witches, wizards, creatures and ghosts.
The little ghost lady’s ears pricked up as the witch told the Coppers about the Hogwarts ghosts. If there were others like her, maybe she would be able to make some new friends? It wasn’t like she could let poor Ben go and face this new adventure alone anyway, so the little ghost lady decided it was time to pack her figurative things and go to this new school with him.
But to her disappointment, the ghosts in the ancient castle were either very stuck-up snobs, or - just like everyone else besides Ben - unable to see her. It was weird, floating around the other ghosts without a single one of them noticing her, but this time, the little ghost lady didn’t find it as bad. She had a friend in Ben now, after all.
Whenever she told him that, Ben didn’t look as convinced as the little ghost lady was, but that didn’t matter; she was convinced enough of their friendship for the both of them.
They spent many years like this; the little ghost lady passed her time pranking Ben or chatting to him, jumping out from behind suits of armour and telling him all the terrible ways she could think of how Ben could possibly meet his demise while doing mundane things like crossing the clocktower courtyard or sitting down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
Whenever Ben got scared by one of the other ghosts, or creatures, or plants, or a weird looking shadow, she would sit by his side and pull silly faces until he laughed again; no one but herself was allowed to frighten her best friend, after all.
All the while, she watched little Ben Copper grow up. With the years his self-confidence grew, if only a little in the beginning, and he started making new friends. The little ghost lady wasn’t too pleased when he started spending more and more time with the boys from his dormitory and students from other houses. She found it thoroughly unfair that Ben had many people to talk to, while she only had him, and now he wasn’t even properly paying her attention anymore.
But as long as he would still jump whenever she popped up through the table right in the middle of his plate, she was fine with sharing Ben’s affection. As long as he was still scared of her, the world of the little ghost lady remained intact.
Until one day, Ben wasn’t scared anymore.
It started slowly, and if the little ghost lady would have paid close attention, she maybe would have noticed it earlier. As Ben hit his final years at Hogwarts, something about him changed. It wasn’t as easy to scare him anymore, and as time drew on, instead of being intimidated by her miserable moaning, whining and screaming in the dead of night, he became increasingly annoyed by it.
Naturally, the little ghost lady couldn’t let that stand at all, so she tried harder to impress Ben. And when that didn’t work, she tried harder yet again. Until one day, Ben had enough of her.
It was close to Christmas, and Ben was sitting in the library, studying for some boring test with his boring friends and his even more boring books. Boring, boring, boring.
The little ghost lady had busied herself for a while with telling Ben exactly how many ways there were to die from a paper cut, but Ben stalwartly kept ignoring her, so that wasn’t much fun at all.
A little sullen at being so rudely disregarded, the little ghost lady hovered above the heads of the students, looking at the dusty tops of the bookshelves and wishing she could write some obscenities into the dust with her finger.
When Ben wasn’t looking, she let herself sink downwards again, sneaked under the table and appeared right in front of him again with a resounding “Boo!”
Ben had been so concentrated on his work that he hadn’t noticed her and now gave a violent start. The little ghost lady could feel the tip of his quill run straight through her head as Ben threw his arms up in the air; good thing she was dead, that might actually have hurt.
She watched with amusement and Ben with horror as the inkwell Ben had knocked his hand against, toppled and then fell, spilling dark ink all over Ben’s neatly written essay.
Ben cursed under his breath and pulled the parchment off the table as fast as he could but it was too late; the ink was dripping from it onto his textbook and his face went pale.
“Look at what you’ve done now,” he hissed at her through gritted teeth. “That essay took me two weeks! Can’t you just bugger off and leave me alone, for Godrick’s sake? This is all your fault!”
The little ghost lady opened her mouth in outrage and laid a hand onto her chest over her unbeating heart. How dare he talk to her like that? His best friend?
Ben’s other friends exchanged worried glances.
“Are you alright?” a boy with red hair and a face full of freckles asked. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one,” Ben said and gave the little ghost lady a dark look. “Absolutely no one.”
The little ghost lady wrinkled her nose indignantly. She’d only wanted to cheer him up and distract him from his boring homework. It wasn’t her fault that he had knocked over the inkwell, he had no right to blame her for that whatsoever. She had only meant well and he was snapping at her. That wasn’t nice, that wasn’t nice at all.
She made a dismissive sound and with her head held high, she floated towards the exit of the library. On her way, she made sure to pass right through Ben and the shudder he gave at the cold feeling of her ghostly touch filled her with satisfaction. That’s what he got for being so rude!
The little ghost lady fully expected Ben to come after her and apologise. She waited around the corner of the library, striking a sullen pose every time she heard someone approach, but it was always someone else, someone who couldn’t even see her. Of Ben, there wasn’t so much as a trace.
Fine, the little ghost lady decided, if Ben could sulk, then so could she. She would show him what it meant to be so nasty towards her. Had she not taken care of him since he’d been a little child? Had she not cheered him up whenever he had been scared by anything else but her? Had she not made sure his attention wasn’t slacking with well timed pranks?
Exactly, she had done all of this, and this was how he thanked her? How utterly ungrateful. It was time Ben learned that she was not to be trifled with.
It was already late at night when the little ghost lady returned to Gryffindor Tower and let herself float upwards straight into Ben’s dormitory. All the boys were fast asleep and she hovered over Ben’s bed for a little while. She cleared her throat several times and stretched her neck, ready to give the best Banshee performance she’d ever done, but for some reason, she paused.
She looked down at Ben, her old friend Ben, lying peacefully in his bed. Sleeping like this, he almost looked like the little boy who had been so scared and alone when she had first met him all those many years ago. His face was relaxed and he was snuggled into his covers, one hand hugging his pillow and the other his old stuffed bunny he’d had since he’d been a child.
The sight made the little ghost lady sad. Even though he looked like he was the same, he wasn’t and she knew it. Ben was growing up, while she was stuck being how she was right now for eternity. Before long, Ben would be done with school and even if the little ghost lady followed him, would she still have a place inside his new life? Did she even have the right to ask for one?
She blew the air she had been holding inside her cheeks out of her mouth and sighed as she turned away from Ben’s bed. Maybe she should let him grow up, she thought, let him go, like he deserved. Maybe she was bound to be alone forever after all.
For the next few days the little ghost lady kept her distance from Ben, watching him from afar every now and again. She saw him laughing and joking around with his friends, and the sight hurt her more than she cared to admit.
She tried not to let herself get down by it; she followed other people and ghosts around, hopping around corners screaming, blowing icy air into exposed necks or just chatting away to her heart’s content. But it just wasn’t the same; no one could see or hear her, and as far as she was aware, the only person who could hadn’t even noticed she was gone.
Ben, however, had very much noticed the little ghost lady’s unexpected absence. At first, he had enjoyed a few days of peace and quiet, but the more he thought about her, the worse he felt for losing his temper.
He decided to apologise, but couldn’t find the little ghost lady in any of her usual places. But then again, her usual place was by his side.
After searching for some time, Ben found her in the old, abandoned clockwork tower. He could see her translucent legs peek out from beneath the giant bell, swinging back and forth to a melody which she had sung to him when he’d been a child.
“Little ghost lady?” he called up to her and the singing stopped abruptly. “Are you there?”
“No, I’m not,” came the sullen answer. “Go away.”
“Listen, I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he sighed. “I shouldn't have. I was just upset about my essay. That was a lot of work, you know?”
The legs disappeared and the head of the little ghost lady came into view.
“You shouldn’t have alright,” she exclaimed accusingly. “I was only trying to lighten the mood. And that’s how you thank me?”
She gave him a dark look. “How did you find me, anyway?”
Ben shrugged. “This is an old, creepy tower. What better place to spook around on your own? I hear that’s what ghosts usually do.”
“I’m no ordinary ghost.”
“No,” Ben smiled, “you aren’t at all. In fact,” he added after a moment, “you are really special. And not only because I’m the only one who is able to see you. You’re my friend. Really,” he insisted when he saw the little ghost lady’s dark look. “It’s just that sometimes you and your pranks can be a bit much. I’m not a scared little boy anymore. You don’t have to try and get under my skin all the time. We can be friends without that.”
“You think so?” the little ghost lady replied sceptically. “I don’t know how to be friends with someone without scaring them. That sounds awfully dull.”
“You could try,” Ben said with a hopeful smile. “It’s really quite relaxing. You might like it.”
When the little ghost lady still didn’t look convinced Ben sighed.
“Listen, the train taking us back home for Christmas is leaving soon. Do you want to come, or do we talk about this when I get back.”
The little ghost lady tilted her head from side to side and looked at him through squinted eyes. “I don’t want to come with you,” she decided eventually. “I quite like this tower. It has great acoustics, listen.”
She opened her mouth and let out a blood curdling scream. Ben winced and covered his ears when the heavy bell started ringing with her echo. When she was done, he slowly lowered his hands again.
“I thought you wouldn’t want to go home with me,” he said and a smile appeared on his face. “Which is why I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
“A surprise,” Ben confirmed. “I can’t promise it will work, but it’s worth a try.”
When it came to surprises, the little ghost lady didn’t have to be asked twice. Ben and she left the clockwork tower behind and she followed him out of the castle and over the snowy grounds until they reached the entrance to the Forbidden Forest.
The little ghost lady looked around curiously; she’d never been here before.
Ben stared at the darkness of the trees and swallowed. His face was pale and the little ghost lady found it hilarious that after his whole speech from before, he was just as scared as she knew her Ben to be. She wanted to make a joke about it, but something about the look in his eyes made her stop, so instead, she followed him in silence.
After a short march over a beaten looking path through the trees they reached a clearing. The little ghost lady's eyes went wide as they fell onto the small herd of animals standing in the middle of it.
They were horses of some sort, and the little ghost lady had seen them before. They were the ones pulling the carriages with the students when they arrived on the train down at the village.
They didn’t seem to have any meat to them, because the little ghost lady could see every single bone beneath their matted black coats and she felt sorry for them; she didn’t quite remember how it felt to eat, but someone should really feed these poor horses. Even their wings - which, the little ghost lady supposed, they shouldn’t have if they actually were proper horses - were looking gaunt, like they should belong to a very big bat instead of a horse.
Maybe no one cared for them because they weren’t exactly pretty. It was a little mean to say that, but their faces reminded her of lizards. It wasn’t their fault they were ugly, however; where would they be if you only got something to eat when you were nice to look at?
“They’re Thestrals,” Ben said quietly. He was watching them with a strange expression; the little ghost lady wasn’t sure if he looked more scared or sad. “They usually pull the carriages to and from the train station. These ones stayed back because of their babies.”
It was only now that the little ghost lady saw the tiny little horses jump around between the larger ones. Even they were looking malnourished and she felt a flare of righteous anger inside her chest. How could anyone treat a baby like this?
“Not many people can see them,” Ben explained, “and they usually scare those who can. Just like you.”
“Just like me?” the little ghost lady whispered, her eyes fixed on a little Thestrals looking in their direction.
Thoroughly fascinated, she left Ben’s side to hover closer to it. She didn’t expect anything to happen, but when she slowly extended her hand towards the Thestral, its black ears pricked up and it carefully sniffed her hand.
“Oh my God, Ben, look!” she squealed in delight. “It can see me! It can really see me!”
“It can,” Ben said behind her and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I wasn’t sure if it would, it was just a guess. But I’m glad it worked.”
He stepped next to her and looked at the Thestrals thoughtfully.
“I figured if I have new friends, so should you.”
The little ghost lady turned to him. “Does that mean you don’t want to be my friend anymore?”
“Not at all. We’ll always be friends. In a way,” Ben said with a wry smile that made the little ghost lady giggle.
“I just don’t want you to be so alone when I don’t have time for you,” Ben added after a moment, but the little ghost lady wasn’t listening to him anymore. She was floating in circles around the little Thestral, which was now jumping through the snow. She was laughing loudly when it passed through her and shook its matted coat.
“Merry Christmas,” Ben whispered.
With a last smile he turned to walk back up the path leading to the castle.
The little ghost lady turned around to wish him merry Christmas as well, but Ben was already out of earshot. She considered going after him, but then decided against it; instead, she watched the little boy, who used to be so scared but wasn’t scared anymore leave with a smile on her face.
Something rustled in the bushes next to the path and out of nowhere a squirrel jumped in Ben’s way, almost colliding with him before fleeing up the next tree. Ben gave a violent jump and the little ghost lady chuckled to herself; maybe he still was a little scared.
Before Ben could round the corner and disappear from her sight, the little ghost lady turned away to give her new horse friend its due attention. She was mesmerised by its coal black eyes which were looking at her - at her, not through her - and she blew a gust of cold air into its face. She snickered at its baffled expression.
That should definitely keep her entertained.
For a week or two.
Just enough time until Ben would be back. He was in for a late Christmas surprise and the little ghost lady was already looking forward to it.
But now, there were some pranks she had to discuss with her new friends first.