The Past and Present Collide

            Moonlight streamed through the soaring windows of the hall. The faint buzz of laughter and conversations lingered in the darkness, but Mandy Brocklehurst was far from that now. Her cheeks were still red, her eyes still ablaze, and her throat still sore from yelling, but she was alone now, and that was all that mattered. For a brief moment, she wondered if anyone would come looking for her. After all, everyone had seen her fight with Adrian Pucey, her Slytherin boyfriend, in the Great Hall. But no, they probably just assumed that she'd go up to the Common Room and fall asleep.

            Instead she was wandering through the halls of Hogwarts on Halloween night, which was, in hindsight, not the smartest thing to do. But at the spur of the moment, it was the smartest thing in the world that she could think of. The drafty staircases cooled her burning cheeks, and watching the portraits of famous witches and wizards sleep peacefully in their frames was somehow reassuring. It was as if Peeves didn't exist.

            Although she had no way of knowing currently, Peeves wasn't going to be a bother to Mandy tonight. For Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington, known affectionately as Nearly Headless Nick, was holding a deathday party just down the hall, and Peeves was attending. He was certainly having a good time flinging rotten food at Moaning Myrtle, but Mandy was safe from his mischief for now.

            Mandy was a sixth year Ravenclaw, with short brown hair and big brown eyes. She was short, and rather thin, except the seemed to think that her backside didn't exactly fit her frame, so she always wore tight shirts and baggy pants. She was pretty, although a little plain. She liked earthy colors, and tended to blend into the crowd sometimes. Her passion for dark clothes served her well in the darkness of the corridors.

            As she crept painstakingly down the hall, being careful to avoid disappearing steps or trapdoors, the strangest sound reached her ears. It sounded like skeletons screaming, or thousands of cats being stepped on at once. It was very faint, but as she picked up the pace, it became louder and even more horrible.

When the music reached its peak in decibels, she stopped dead and turned to look around. Just to her right, a narrow, slanting passageway, lit by black candles and probably leading to the dungeons, beckoned to her. Considering that awful, unearthly sound and a freezing draft was coming from it, it was probably best to move on, but Mandy did nothing of the sort. Instead, she drew her robes more tightly around her and began her descent down the tunnel.

There were black tapered candles everywhere, and the flames burned blue instead of gold, casting horrible shadows and making Mandy's overactive imagination wonder if she'd just stepped into the underworld. Suddenly she heard sad voices over the droning music (if you had the nerve to call it that) and began to hurry. When she finally reached the huge dungeon door, she inched it open and snuck inside, hoping to go unnoticed, and that her interest in this wouldn't bring about her falling from the mortal plane.

What she saw took her breath away. Hundreds of silvery, almost transparent ghosts drifted around, carrying on mournful conversation and dancing slowly to the dreadful music, which was being played by a ghostly orchestra. The room was filled with the black candles, and black streamers had been draped across the ceiling. In fact, almost everything in the room was black, save the ghosts themselves, the stone walls, and the blue flames of the candles.  Above the doorway was a sign, written in red letters that shone like blood, reading:

SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON
DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492

Mandy raised an eyebrow. She knew what this was, she had read about them hundreds of times before. A deathday party. Part of her was fascinated, because being a Ravenclaw, she was in awe of the learning opportunity before her, but part of her was terrified. Her nose was beginning to run from the freezing air, and some of the ghosts seemed to have died in more gruesome ways than she could have ever imagined. She backed up slowly, hoping to just watch from a safe corner, but accidentally ended up steeping through a ghost.

She wished immediately that she hadn't, because it was like being soaked in icy rain, and she was freezing already from the awful drafts of the dungeon. The ghost swiveled around to face her, and she, terrified, pressed herself against the wall.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see you...I didn't mean to come here, it was all a mistake, I'll just be going now," she breathed, looking at the floor.

"It's quite alright, don't worry about it...but how on earth did you get here?" came the reply.

Mandy looked up, her brown hair falling into her eyes. She brushed it away and then found herself almost smiling at the ghost before her.

He couldn't have been a day older than seventeen when he died, and there were no visible injuries anywhere on his body. He was very handsome for a ghost, with a straight nose, a kind smile, and floppy hair, and he still wore his Hogwarts uniform - meaning he had probably died while still a student. He was tall, but not imposing, and he looked down at her with genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"I, er, well, I sort of," she mumbled, suddenly feeling stupid. It was idiotic of her to have come down here. "I got in a fight with someone at the feast, so I left the Great Hall and sort of wandered around, and I heard the, um, music" - she shot a glance at the orchestra - "and kind of came down to see what was going on. I'm sorry, I was wrong to come here, I'll just be going." She blushed and turned to walk away.

"No, no, stay," he said, reaching out a cold hand to touch her shoulder. She winced at the contact, and he drew away. "This party could use some life."

That made her laugh, and he, in turned, smiled, making them the only beings in the room besides Peeves to be doing so. Even Nick was sitting in a corner, still sulking over being declined to join the Headless Hunt, and all the other guests were either reminiscing over their own deaths (which was naturally not a cheery topic) or complaining about how all anyone ever did at these things was talk about how they died. Peeves, however, was throwing pieces of moldy salmon at Moaning Myrtle and gleefully insulting her as she ran around the room, dodging chunks of putrid fish.

"I'm Patrick, Patrick Lawrence," the ghost in front of Mandy said. He extended a hand, but then quickly jerked it away, remembering how she had reacted to his touch before.

"Mandy Brocklehurst," she said gloomily.

"Don't you like your name? I think it's rather interesting, actually."

"Just be glad it isn't yours," she replied.

He grinned and moved to stand beside her. "So this is the first deathday party you've been to, I presume?"

Mandy nodded and adjusted her robes. She had the feeling that if she stayed too long, she'd become a human icicle. Or maybe a ghost. She wished that somehow she'd known, so she could have brought her cloak. And then she realized that Patrick was talking to her. She looked up at him, surprised.

"Oh, yes, yes...being alive, naturally, I've never been invited to one." He grinned and she managed a small smile, then continued. "But I've read all about them. They've always sounded so terribly interesting...I wish I could interview every single ghost in this room. Can you imagine the book that would make, if I learned the story of every ghost here?" She looked up and him and he grinned again.

"You're a Ravenclaw, aren't you?" he asked, brushing a wisp of hair off his forehead. Mandy noticed that, oddly, he seemed to be more solid than the other ghosts. Maybe because he had died much later?

She nodded and showed him the House badge sewn onto her robes. "And proud of it," she added. He nodded.

"I was one myself." Then he pointed to the Grey Lady, a pretty female ghost with sad eyes in a long, flowing dress. "I suppose you know the Grey Lady, then?"

Mandy nodded. "Yes, she's our house ghost. I've never really talked to her, though. She's rather quiet, but she does help us with our schoolwork sometimes."

The air seemed to suddenly get colder, and Mandy's teeth began to chatter. Her toes were going numb, and the hair on her arms was standing up straight. If she didn't leave soon, she would probably catch pneumonia. It was probably from attending this event and not moving around, then stepping into ghosts when she did, and the drafts that seemed to cut through her robes. That wouldn't bother her too much, because with any luck she could be on sick leave for awhile, or maybe she could pass it on to Adrian, but then she'd have to explain exactly how she caught it, since the areas the students were allowed to visit were always warm, and that would be a disaster. So she decided to try to figure out a way to leave.

Luckily, Patrick noticed her discomfort. "Are you cold?" He asked, and when she nodded in reply, he frowned and said, "I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier. You see, it's been so long since..." He trailed off, shook his head, and started to make his way toward the exit. Moaning Myrtle ran right through him, wailing and trying to disentangle maggots from her hair. Peeves followed her, zooming through the air with his half-empty salmon tray, and gave Patrick a quick, grinning salute.

Mandy stifled her laughter and followed Patrick, being careful to avoid Peeves' eyes. Patrick led her into the hallway, and she began to rub her hands together, try to restore feeling to her numb fingers. They made their way to the main hallway, and Mandy was relieved to start feeling warmth in her body again. She cast a glance at Patrick, who was, in turn, watching her. His eyes looked somehow blue in the moonlight...

"Are you tired?" he asked, and Mandy shook her head.

"No. I don't want to go back, anyway." She hung her head. "I made a fool of myself in the Great Hall. I wouldn't be surprised if they were still laughing it up."

"What happened?"

Mandy shrugged and began to walk. "It was stupid, really. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. But my boyfriend, Adrian, started saying things about my family that he shouldn't have said...I'm a half-blood, you see, and he's a Slytherin, so he sort of sees me as...less than him. Maybe he didn't mean it, what he said, because he was with his friends, but maybe he did. It sounded like he did. I don't think he really cares about me. Sometimes I wonder why he even bothers...Anyway, halfway through the feast, he started joking around and calling me 'his Mudblood', so I got mad and yelled at him, the wanker."

She looked at Patrick and saw that he looked like he was about to laugh, probably because of her last two words. She grinned. "I'm sorry." Patrick laughed. "He just makes me so mad sometimes."

Footsteps down the hall made Mandy spin around. Professor Sinistra was storming down the hall. She looked flustered, angry, and relieved all at once.

"Mandy Brocklehurst!" Her voice echoed down the hallway, and Mandy flinched. "What on earth are you doing?" When Sinistra was within speaking distance, Mandy began to talk.

"Well, Professor, I was really upset after my fight with Adrian in the Great Hall, so I decided to take a walk...I got lost, and I ended up at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, and I met, um, Patrick, and he was just walking me back to the Common Room..." Mandy nervously ran a hand through her hair and looked up hopefully at the professor, who sighed.

"You know very well that you shouldn't be wandering the halls at night, Mandy. Five points will be taken from Ravenclaw. Now come with me." She grabbed Mandy's wrist and turned to the ghost with a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, Patrick." He nodded deeply, and then Sinistra proceeded to half-drag Mandy down the hall towards the common room.

Mandy waved and forced a smile as Patrick disappeared around the corner.