Hogwarts' Newest Ghosts

Hogwarts Newest Ghosts

The war had ended.

Time passed until there was a moonless midsummer's night. It was then that the ghosts of the Isles held a Revue at Hogwarts, to welcome the three latest ghosts there.

Mortals were invited. The large grounds were decorated and fitted for the event. The schedule was outlined: The Parade of History, wherein the ghosts would arrive, the eldest first, and pass under the banners representing the four houses. Each alumnus would salute his or her house banner. The parade would end with the arrival of the Queen and her attendants. Then the Court would be held, wherein the ghosts of Hogwarts would present themselves, and the Party afterwards, wherein "beings" and "has-beens" would celebrate.

This account is of the Court, its welcomes and its judgments on the three ghosts who had "arrived" since the last Revue.

The trumpeting heralds announced the arrival of Queen Hecate and her attendants. First came Anne Boylen, her head on her shoulders, arrayed in a glittering gown, seated on a chair that was carried on the shoulders of four of the Headless Hunt, who carried their heads under their arms. (She was their patroness.) As the chair went under the House banners, she did not salute, for she was of Beauxbatons.

Herne the Hunter came riding up from the lake astride an Irish elk. His sardonic grin greeted the onlookers, while on top of his head the skull of a stag glimmered in the starlight, its prongs like the tines of an asymmetrical crown. The noose around his neck swung like an obscene necktie. His leathery tunic, trousers and boots were of ancient and simple vintage. One hand was on the neck of the elk, the other held his bow. Though a ghost, his presence was enough to send children crying to their parents, youth shrinking into their peers, and adults to catch their breaths and hope he would pass by. As he passed, he saluted the banner of the House of Hufflepuff.

The Queen of the night, Hecate, arrived last of all, riding in a chariot that was pulled by a large three-headed dog. It was an awesome sight, until some voices from the stands called out, "Fluffy!" and the dog stopped to turn its head, and wag its tail. There was no getting the dog to move after that. The Fat Friar appeared next to the chariot, and personally escorted Hecate to her throne. Herne sat on a smaller throne to her right, and Anne to her left. The Herald called the assembly to order.

The revue went smoothly, as the ghosts of Hogwarts presented themselves one by one, until only three remained:

"Presenting Professor Cuthbert Binns," the herald called out.

The teacher confidently drifted up the lawn until he floated before the threesome and then bowed low before the Queen.

Hecate slowly shook her head at him.

"Professor Binns, the court is puzzled. To put it simply, how came you to be here? You did not die in violence, you are not afraid of death, and yet here you are, a ghost. Pray tell the court how this happened."

The ghost blinked through his glasses, and gave the queen another deep bow. His reedy voice carried throughout the assembly:

"There is no greater privilege, no more solemn responsibility, no deeper joy than to impart the lessons of the past to the future generations, that history may not be lost, but that all may gain from the lessons learned in years past. This is the work that I would have, the life that I desire above all others." The professor smiled.

All three stared at him, then slowly turned to look at each other. Herne looked at Hecate, who returned the look, and then both looked at Anne. Anne looked back and raised her eyebrows. She and Hecate looked back at Herne, who looking at them, shrugged. Hecate looked somewhere off to the left of Binns and sighed. All three looked at Binns again, stunned and astonished.

Hecate raised her hands and clapped, and then the other two followed her example. The applause gained in volume until the air rang with it, and then people started standing and cheering. The professor bowed to the court, and then to the crowd. The applause slowly died down as the people reseated themselves. The school governors nodded to each other cheerfully. Pay raises would not be a concern for the next year.

"Professor Binns, when you tire of this noble and monumental task, you may cross over to your well-deserved rest," Hecate proclaimed. More applause from the people followed.

He bowed his thanks, and returned to where he had floated before.

And then it was Moaning Myrtle's turn. She came up to the court, shuffling and sniffling, stopping once to clean her glasses and again to wipe her nose on her sleeve before she floated before the queen.

Hecate gazed fondly on the terrified schoolgirl. "Dear Myrtle, why are you still on this plane? You have been avenged! Both the basilisk that took your mortality, and he who ordered it to do so are no longer among the living. So why have you not continued on the path of Death and freedom from this world?"

Myrtle stared at her, hiccupping and sniveling. The sounds got louder and louder, until she exploded in an ear splitting howl. "YOU HATE ME! YOU DON'T WANT ME AROUND. YOU don't wear glasses YOU don't have spots YOU have Everything JUST PERFECT! YOU want ME to GO AWAY and NOT COME BACK! YOU want me to GO JUMP IN THE LAKE! Well, FINE then, I'LL GO!" And with a sobbing wail, she did just that.

The threesome looked grimly at each other, and then looked over at the Hogwarts' ghosts, who all floated uneasily, shuffling and being careful not to make eye contact with anyone. Hecate sighed, and waved her hand in dismissal at the calm lake. "Fine, then, you can be finally dead whenever you want to," and under her breath she added, "brat."

She and her associates took a small break. They stood and shook themselves, and then sat back down. Hecate made a grim smile and nodded to Herne. No lesser being deserved the job.

Herne languidly called out. "Tom Riddle, stand forth."

There was no answer. Herne cocked his head to one side, a bemused expression on his face, and he called out louder, "Tom Riddle, stand forth."

The two women smirked and looked smug. Herne smiled back at them.

"Tom Riddle, the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, also known as 'He who must not be named', the Dark Lord, et cetera, et cetera, you are commanded to stand forth." Herne examined his fingernails.

Slowly a ghostly mist appeared and grew in front of the bemused trio. It took time for the mist to swirl into a shape of a man, haughty in his bearing, his eyes gleaming red.

Herne snorted.

"By my troth," Anne snickered, "I did not believe that any man could look worse than you, my dear Herne." She paused, and looked at each of them. The spectre continued to glare, while Herne grinned. She sighed. "No, Herne, you still look worse." He stood up and made a mocking bow to her, which she returned with a curtsey. The spectre glowered.

The two sat back down, taking time to adjust their clothing, making themselves comfortable.

"Well, you certainly ended up the worse for wear," Herne said conversationally.

"What happened to you nose?" Anne snickered. "Do you have any other missing body parts?"

"Don't answer that," Herne ordered. To Anne, he said, "He might show us, and there are children present." He waved his arm towards the mortals in the stands.

"You certainly didn't need to drag everyone to death about your wanting to live forever," Anne sniffed. "There are the mortals and the immortals, and then we who are ghosts, and then there are those on the other side of the veil," she pointed out. "Even the immortals are subject to death, and we who are what we are will someday 'change over'. You could have prolonged your existence here by signing up for it, instead of being the cause of so much misery and woe."

"Well, he did provide some excitement and kept people from being bored. How I loathe being bored." Herne sighed and rolled his eyes.

"My dear Herne, you have been boring, but I doubt that you have ever bored," Anne replied tartly.

"Now, now, children," Hecate said soothingly. "It is time to pronounce judgment. Is there anything you wish to say in your defense, Tom Riddle? Or 'Lord' Voldemort?"

There was silence, as the spectre continued to seethe.

"Cat got your tongue?" Anne asked.

"Maybe that part is missing," Herne replied.

"Tom, speak now," the queen ordered.

The spectre jutted his chin out defiantly and said nothing.

"No apologies, even? Not even to the poor child, whose life you took with the basilisk?"

There was a very loud "sniff". Myrtle had returned, and was slowly shimmering back into visibility.

"Not to the living here, who wept and still weep over the loss of loved ones? Not to the dead? The others you took with you to war, the giants, and the werewolves? The house-elves who were tortured? The Muggles? Do you not have one for your own mother?"

Voldemort jerked his head in surprise.

"No, she is not here, but she knows of every deed you have done, and weeps for you as she always has. Will you not ease her sorrow? Your father also is aware, but to abandon the woman who carried his child, and to knowingly, mercilessly abandon his own child, has chained him in hell. You had the power to claim him, but your choices have made you your own hell here. Once again, Tom, do you have anything to say to this court?"

He bowed his head slightly, but still defiant, said nothing.

After a long wait Hecate spoke, "Then it is the will of the court that you will haunt Hogwarts Castle, in that secret chamber in which the rotting corpse of the basilisk lies.

"You will stay bound to the castle until it lies crumbled in dust and the seas wash its foundations. When the seas enter the chamber, at that time you will 'cross over'.

"Furthermore, when the Headmaster or Headmistress proclaims an amusement, you will comply, whether it shall be to fly in formation with the other ghosts, or dance a jig on the tables. Should Professor Binns or any other professor need your assistance, you will comply. Should there be any task that may, for some unforeseeable reason, require your assistance, you will comply."

"Of all the ghosts, you will be considered the least. Your power to terrify is no longer, and you will be an object of pity and scorn and, as I have decreed, amusement to the children that enter this school for as long as there are those who will tell the tale."

The spectre shouted, "I'd rather die!"

"Too late!" Herne cheerfully replied. The crowds laughed, and then fell silent.

"This judgment is pronounced, and will hold bound, until the world is made new again, when the dead reclaim the dust that was theirs," the queen decreed.

Hecate stood and looked over the assembly, over the ghosts, and lastly, to the lone spectre in front of her. "This court is now adjourned."

"Stand aside, Tom," Herne quietly ordered.

The specter meekly complied. Hecate walked down the lawn, back the way she came, followed by Anne and Herne. Not one gave Tom a second glance. The three faded as they went. There was a silence, then a low noise started, followed by a great roar, as children, parents, teachers, and others streamed onto the lawn, laughing and shouting. "Lord" Voldemort was now fixed in his judgment, and could harm no one again.

The musicians struck up a lively tune, and people started dancing. The kegs of butterbeer were opened. Food filled the tables and soon, the stomachs of the crowd. (The rotten sushi for the ghosts was downwind and out of sight.)

Anne had returned to the party; her head was bouncing around like a balloon over one part of the crowd, while the rest of her could be seen dancing with the Fat Friar. Herne gave rides on his elk to other ghosts. School children climbed over the three-headed dog, while Hecate and Professor Binns were the center of a small mob of admirers. The former Dark Lord stood apart, and sullenly watched the party.

A group of students threw blankets over their heads and became a living mockery of a basilisk, complete with yellow dinner plates for eyes. It snaked through the crowds, while some children painted lightning bolts on their foreheads and others had charmed on their chins long grey beards.

The party continued through the dark night until the distant break of day. The pale hosts from other places drifted away, leaving the mortals and the ghosts of Hogwarts to face the dawn together.