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The Yankees Nephew and the Philosophers Stone	By : Wilde_Guess Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5806 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe I am making no money from this fanfiction

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10. A Ghost of a Chance.

Seven minutes past two o’clock in the afternoon of Monday, the twentieth of September 1982 saw David walking towards the mostly disused painting classroom with Friar Tuck.

The Friar told David, “Now, I’ve persuaded Simon Talmadge to at least talk to you, but I’m making no promises about whether he’ll accept your friendship or not. And you still owe my student ghost at least an introduction.”

David replied, “While I wish it had been only three students to die here and not move On, I’ll be grateful to make Willa Weholt’s acquaintance, just the same as Simon Talmadge, Myrtle Warren, and Duncan Ashe. While my Uncle Frank only told me to ‘make friends’ with Myrtle and Duncan, I don’t see any reason to not become friends with Willa and Simon, too. While he was a painter and not a singer or dancer, Simon was an artist, the same as me. And as Quidditch-crazy as the Weasleys are, and my broom-crazy brothers Harry and Dudley might be, I’ll want another friend looking out for them on the pitch.

“I’m surprised that Professor Snape thought that there were only three student ghosts, though.”

“I’m not,” the Friar answered. “He’s never actually worked up the nerve to ask. He encountered Simon entirely by accident. He deliberately enquired about Duncan, and almost everyone knows, or at least thinks they know about Myrtle, with her more-or-less making a girls’ loo out-of-bounds. And Professor Snape, along with Professor Sprout and Headmaster Dumbledore, are the only living staff to even bother with the student ghosts. The rest of them either believe the ‘dying desperate spell’ nonsense and think of us all as mobile portraits, or they just figure that the other three House Ghosts and I have things well in hand and just leave us to it.”

“How many student ghosts are there, Friar?” a familiar received baritone voice asked behind David and the Friar.

They both turned around to see the Head of Slytherin House following them. Professor Snape explained, “The Baron complained to me directly before lunch that Mr. David Dvorak was planning to harass the student ghosts. While this seemed out-of-character for Mr. Dvorak, I owed the Baron the respect of investigating for myself. While the Baron was indeed mistaken, I’m still curious why you would want the make the acquaintance of student ghosts?”

“Professor,” David explained after casting a hasty yet silent Muffilato, “Uncle Frank saw something, and told me to make friends with ‘the newest and saddest two; children of the castle taken before their time yet left behind’ Sunday afternoon. Since Dad had already told me about your conversation about R and Duncan Ashe, I decided to make the acquaintance of ‘all three,’ which Father Tuck assures me is actually ‘all four’ student ghosts. While I hope to genuinely become the friends of all four, and while I hope they will all help me when I need it, they are all sapient beings of free-will, the same as Father Tuck, or you and I. In the end, they will do what they believe is right. I can only ask; it is for them and them alone to grant or refuse my requests.

“And the fourth student ghost is Willa Weholt from Hufflepuff. She was the Seeker on Hufflepuff’s Quidditch Team, and she accidentally fatally Ploughed herself trying to win the Quidditch Cup in her fifth year, after failing to catch a single Snitch during her third and fourth years. Her collision had instantly and visibly ended her life without disfiguring her. While her fingers had brushed it, she barely missed that Snitch too, in a driving rainstorm. It was her first miss all year, otherwise Hufflepuff wouldn’t have been playing for the Cup that day. However, Gryffindor refused to defeat Hufflepuff because of their Seeker’s reckless bravery.

“As was actually typical for Quidditch games back then, even for school games, the Flying Instructor and Referee called that the game would continue, whether Hufflepuff had a substitute Seeker or not. In answer, the Gryffindors shot forty-nine unanswered goals on their own undefended hoops before one of the Hufflepuff beaters finally caught the Snitch to end the game. Each and every Gryffindor player scored seven goals on their own unattended hoops in tribute to Weholt, starting with their Quidditch Captain and Keeper, and ending with their Seeker. The final score was 540 to 140 in favor of Hufflepuff. But, only the 150 points scored by the Hufflepuff Beater were actually scored by Hufflepuff themselves.

“Hufflepuff refused the victory. While Weholt would have won the game and the Quidditch Cup had she actually caught the snitch then, Hufflepuff were down 140-0. With even one more goal’s lead, Gryffindor would have tied the game and won the cup even if Hufflepuff had caught the Snitch. They sincerely believed that they hadn’t worked hard enough to win if they had their Seeker fatally stricken on the pitch without catching the Snitch first.

“Gryffindor also refused the victory or the cup, since they absolutely refused to dishonour Willa’s determination, hard work, and valour. They declared a frequent quote of theirs, that ‘below the courageous, there is nothing,’ and that since they hadn’t been below Willa to cushion her collision with the ground, that they had nothing with which to win that game or season.

“In the end, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff shared both the Quidditch and House Cups in 1908. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw also switched tables at the Leaving Feast that year. Prior to that night, Hufflepuff had always sat closest to Slytherin. After that night, they sat closest to Gryffindor, which they still do to this day.”

The Friar confronted, “You told me that you didn’t know Willa was a ghost.”

David humbly replied, “I hadn’t, but I knew her story. The 1908 Hogwarts Quidditch Cup Final Match actually made the front page of the Daily Prophet that year. And while Professor Bagshot barely mentioned her in Hogwarts: A History, she told me that she mentioned it as little as she did only to not encourage recklessness on the Quidditch Pitch, and that if the game hadn’t received as much coverage elsewhere as it did, that she wouldn’t have mentioned it at all.

“Whisp’s Quidditch Throughout The Ages devotes an entire chapter to the 1907-1908 Hogwarts Quidditch Season, concentrating on Weholt. He devotes another one to Willa herself. He suggested that while he believed Weholt had only a marginal future as a Quidditch player, that she would have taken the racing broom business by storm, had she not died in 1908.

“Her family’s fortunes were not good, and they had to sell Weholt’s Charm, Rune, and Arithmancy notes to broomstick maker Leonard Jewkes in 1911 for only one hundred Galleons. He used Weholt’s work unaltered to build the Silver Arrow, which revolutionized the Quidditch Broom industry, especially for Seeker and Racing Brooms. She was only fifteen, and still learning.

“Jewks succeeded so handsomely with the Silver Arrow that he paid the Weholt family another two hundred Galleons in 1913, plus he put the Weholt family back on the Ministry Copyright Ownership Register for Willa’s work. The royalties the Weholt family earned, which their heirs still get from almost every broomstick maker to this day, have made them quite wealthy. Her work was that good, and that critical to the modern flying or racing broom. There’s no telling how much further her work would have gone had she lived, or if she had continued studying and published expanded research notes herself through Hogwarts.”

After a pregnant pause, Professor Snape told David, “You’ve come close enough to convincing me. Whether or not you convince the student Ghosts is entirely on you. Good day, Father, and Mr. Dvorak.”

“Good day, Professor Snape” David responded as the Potions Master left the boy and ghost at the door to the mostly disused art classroom. David dismissed his Muffilato charm.

After sighing, he spoke, “Mr. Talmadge, if you would be so kind as to come into the hallway to meet me? Whether you brought your friends knowingly or not, they are with you, just like my friends are with me without my consent or encouragement, hidden under Disillusionment Charms. After the two of us are properly introduced, we can introduce our friends to each other. And, ‘no harm’ as far as I can tell. I wanted to meet all four of you and have my friends meet the four of you too anyway, if you all were willing.”

Simon Talmadge passed through the door and out into the hallway while Andy, Bill, A.D., Tom, Max, and Joe dropped their Disillusionment Charms. Simon appeared to be roughly sixteen when he died. He was about five feet and six inches tall, and was of slender build. In life, he was rather skinny, weighing perhaps one hundred ten pounds. His dark hair, likely black, was of a fashionable length for the time, but messy. His eyes were also black, as they were in life. He appeared to have been fairly pale even before he died. His student uniform was surprisingly little different than those worn in 1982. So, sometimes it was the Wizards and Witches who were setting fashion trends.

He looked at David suspiciously and asked, “David Dvořák, I presume. Your famous ancestor was just a little bit after my time.”

David extended his hand and replied, “David John Hernando Rush-Cook Dvorak, singer and dancer, at your service. You would be Simon Talmadge, Wizarding Painter and Portraitist? And put your energy into you hand like you were trying to lift something. I’ll be ‘gentle,’ and it will hopefully be good enough to be getting on with.”

Simon followed David’s directions and shook David’s hand, stating, “Simon Peter Talmadge, Ravenclaw Sixth Year, at your service good sir. In my day, Bards could live well, and composers were celebrities. Dancers as a rule weren’t paid very well, and usually had to resort to other unseemly means to make a living.”

As they shook hands, David laughed heartily and replied, “It isn’t all that different today, Simon. Notice that I never said that I earned a living from ballet. I dance because when I dance I feel alive. Professional ballet dancers, as a rule, earn as much coin as scullery maids, and have to stab each other in the back to get those poorly paying jobs. My music becoming as lucrative as it has is a bit of a surprise, even to me. But my friends and I earned every Knut we’ve made; even being lucky enough to make any at all. You and I probably don’t know that much about each other’s art, but as artists we know art.”

“You’re a better man than my father then, even being an ‘ickle Firstie.’ To him, painting began and ended with whitewashing the barns. We were a family of yeoman farmers, and the Ministry had to lean on him hard for him to let me come to Hogwarts. I was too ‘spindly’ for farm work, so he was actually glad to be shut of me beyond ‘summer vacation.’ If Mum hadn’t set her foot down, I’d have been summering at a foundling house. Bastard.”

“David, do you play Quidditch?” a lightly Indian accented teen girl’s voice asked. “Or at least fly? And call me ‘Willa’ if I can call you ‘David.’”

Willa Weholt had in life stood about five feet and three inches tall, and appeared to weigh a muscular and shapely one hundred thirty pounds or so. She was at least mostly Indian, with dark thick long wavy hair, and dark eyes. Despite being a ghost, she also had a joie de vivre about her. She followed the directions David had given Simon, mostly. When she and David shook hands, she actually squeezed through his hand for a moment before pulling back for a proper handshake.

David smiled and blushed slightly while answering, “Well-met, Willa. I like to fly, but I won’t have time to try out for Quidditch, much less practice or play. I have to keep up my no-Maj schoolwork, and study ahead to take my NEWTs early. My younger siblings will probably play, though; along with my friends the Weasleys.”

“Small world, then” Willa laughed in reply. “Severus Weasley was the Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor in 1908. And, if you can keep your mouth and pen mostly shut, I can tell you all about what I ‘would’ have done in the industry.

“To put a point on it, I did revolutionize the industry. Len paid one hundred Galleons for my notes at first, ‘cause that’s all he had. And my family at first insisted he buy the notes outright, since they were still mad at me for not moving On when I died. They eventually got over it for real, but when the Silver Arrow really took off, they still needed the money, and that’s the only way Len could keep paying me for my work. See, while I didn’t move On when I died, that didn’t mean that I stopped moving. But, Cuthbert Binns’ example not withstanding, ghosts aren’t supposed to work after we’ve died. ‘Too much competition for the living,’ they say. But Binns and I are mostly exceptions anyway, since we don’t need to interact with objects to do our work as a rule. Even Father Tuck may only hear Confessions and grant Absolution, and preach. He can’t do that ‘mass-thingy’ they do, since he’s not fully alive.

“Anyway, I worked for Len from early ’21 until he finally sold out to Comet in ’37. I only retired from them in ’68, when it finally became too much of a pain in the arse to keep my employment secret from most of the other employees. Remember, the ‘dead’ aren’t supposed to steal jobs from the living. I did get my brother Waylon on with Comet as a designer once he finally caught up to me, along with two of my nieces. Wanda Weholt-Jones, the younger niece, jumped ship over to Devlin Whitehorn’s Nimbus Racing Broom Company when he announced he was starting it up in ’65. Her ‘Weholt Four’ charm set was much faster than my original set, and it had better braking than Comet’s Horton-Keitch Braking Charm. Being a Weholt, she could use anything derived from my work for free, and our contract with Comet, unlike Keitch and Horton’s contracts, was never exclusive. Len never sold his share of the Copyright, even when he sold everything else to Comet. And while Horton-Keitch was a better braking charm than the braking phase of my Weholt One rune matrix, Wanda’s Weholt Four was better without using any charms at all.”

The Friar added, “I’ve had Extraordinary Ministerial Faculties from the Ordinary of Aberdeen and his predecessor for centuries, but only for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. I can’t routinely handle and anoint with Holy Oils for the Sacrament of the Sick. And since I’m dead, I can’t act ‘in persona Christi,’ since Christ is Eternally Alive, even having died on the Cross for the forgiveness of our sins. Besides, with no living body, I eat or drink, so I can’t receive Communion, and if I were to celebrate the Mass, I would be receiving Communion first.

“I was told all of this up-front when I asked to remain. It didn’t bother me, though. I’d spent most of my living ministry telling people to ‘go to the priest’ instead of ‘I am a priest,’ so it just didn’t matter.

“Hogwarts doesn’t have any chapel for any religion or sect. Their argument has always been that if they had a chapel for any Faith, that they would need one for every Faith, including those who made murder of Wizards and Witches a major part of their religion.

“But Hogsmeade has a ‘quiet’ parish, typically with a Wizard or Squib priest as Pastor. Hufflepuff is ‘allowed’ to have ‘quiet’ field-trips and ‘early-start Hogsmeade weekends’ for those who are or become Catholic. I was honestly surprised that you hadn’t asked me about that yet.”

David blushed in embarrassment while replying, “I was honestly too wrapped-up in asking about the Religious Wars and persecution of Wizards and Witches to even think about it, even knowing that you had some kind of Church blessing to be here.”

The Friar laughed gently, before asking, “Have you at least been attending Mass on the weekends you’ve been home or performing?”

David replied, “Yes, Father.”

“Good!” the Friar replied in turn. “For the weekends you’re here, you’ll want to check with the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Prefects, along with Professors McGonagall and Sprout. And be sure to at least offer to bring young Tom with you.”

Tom Daley, for his part, gasped in surprise. He, along with Bill, A.D., and Andy had approached shyly and nervously to where they were only a step or two behind David, facing the now four ghosts as Duncan Ashe joined them.

In life, Duncan was a Slytherin seventh year, and was eighteen. He stood in life roughly five feet and ten inches tall, and appeared to weigh about 145 pounds. He’d had brown hair and blue eyes. Oddly enough, his shirt was actually yellow instead of the white shirts normally worn with the school uniform.

“I’m sure that David was trying to meet Miss Warren and myself more, he practically said as much while the Friar and he came up here. So, let’s ‘prove’ David out.

“I’m Duncan Ashe, Slytherin house. You can call me ‘Duncan’ David, but I’m not saying shit about ‘R’ other than stay well clear of both them and the Cursed Vaults. So, you can give that up.”

While shaking hands, David replied, “Well met, Duncan, and thanks for the great advice if my friends and I are allowed to follow it. And as for Miss Warren, beyond my interest in the circumstances she died under, I thought she would be an interesting and rewarding friend to have, if she would consider having me. I refuse to use the common nickname for her, even if she does scare some girls away from one of the bathrooms. It’s a double entendre, and a very insulting one to give a young lady.”

“I think I might get to like you then, David. At least you didn’t say that I couldn’t have earned the ‘rude’ meaning. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren of Ravenclaw House at your service.”

In life, Myrtle stood five feet and two inches tall, and was a shapely 127 pounds. Her face was attractive, and when she died was blemish-free. Her brown har was worn in two ponytails in front of her at armpit length, with her fringe trimmed just above her eyebrows. In life, her eyes were blue, though hidden by smudged glasses set in frames that didn’t compliment her looks.

Instead of shaking Myrtle’s hand, David unexpectedly fainted flat out. His living friends only fared slightly better. Bill Weasley finally explained, “Miss Warren, you’d be a ‘ringer’ for his fiancée’s older sister, if she had one. He and she have been ‘dating’ basically all of their lives.”

Bill Enervated David, who sheepishly apologized. “Sorry, Myrtle. You look exactly like Saria’s Mom did when she graduated High School early to start college, glasses and all. Miss Cook always kept hers cleaner though, and she usually wore contact lenses.”

While they finally shook hands, Myrtle chuckled while replying, “It’s okay, David. Bill told me about your fiancée, whom I’m guessing is ‘Saria.’ And if someone were bantering on about my mother ‘moaning,’ I’d be furious, even logically knowing that she had done that at least once.” The ghost and boy both laughed, finally dispelling the last of the tension in the hallway, or at least most of it.

Simon told the group, “All right, we’ve met. But, before I give you guys a chance, I want you to see my greatest painting and tell me what you think of it! I had an old friend bring it up here for me this morning.”

The group of boys and ghosts entered the old art classroom. When the classroom was active, it was a studio for teaching Wizarding Painting and Portraiture. Simon remarked, “I spent many marvelous days here. My only O-star on my OWLs was for Wizarding Painting, and I was in my first NEWT year of it when I died.”

The only painting present in the room was a near-life-size paining of a Gryffindor fifth-year girl from Simon’s time who had been struck by a fairly powerful Inflating Jinx. While not animated like a ‘proper’ Wizarding Portrait, the painting was still very life-like, and masterfully done. Just the same, it wasn’t exactly the nicest painting the boys had seen. David’s reaction was quite telling, though.

“What was she about to do to you, and who stopped her with the Inflating Jinx?”

Simon was almost thunderstruck by David’s question. The artistic ghost regained his composure after several moments before answering, “I was a third year, and not very good then at Defense. Gwydion Idris, a Slytherin fourth-year saved me. He became my closest friend.” Simon visibly blushed while he answered.

David concluded, “So, to remember the day, you painted your tormentor getting her well-deserved comeuppance.”

“Quite” Simon replied, while blushing even more.

While he would very soon regret asking, even while in the end no harm was done, David asked anyway. He also unconsciously called on Floyd Family Magic no one present at the time knew of. That magic would compel those of weaker or unprepared minds to truthfully answer question asked, even if they would normally lie or refuse to answer at all.

“How close were Gwydion and you, Simon?”

Simon blanched almost transparent, but he was unable to withhold his answer. “Gwydion and I were the closest of friends. And right before I died, we went well beyond even that.

“I was never attracted to other men or boys, and I’ve always longed for the touch of a woman. But after he saved me, and he was the first to ever defend me from being bullied, I was in love with Gwydion. Gwydion was like a Wizarding Lord Byron, Gwydion’s poetry is still well regarded in the Wizarding World even today. And like the Muggle Lord, Gwydion didn’t let a ‘pesky little detail’ like one’s gender interfere with his enjoying the pleasures of an attractive consenting person’s body, though only Adolescents and older could give consent, never children.

“I was barely thirteen when Gwydion rescued me, and it took me three years before he believed that I was finally ready for anything like that. While he was my first and only anything, ever, beyond my own hand, I was not his first, nor his first boy. It was mostly that which had him deny me as long as he did. He explained to me that ‘the only sex acts I can not do, Simon, are monogamy and fidelity.’ Yet, even knowing that I would never be his alone, or even to only boy who would share that with him, I persisted until he finally gave in.

“The one particular act was painful at first when he did it to me, after I’d already done it to him. He insisted that he ‘receive’ first even though that wasn’t what I’d planned. But we enjoyed our physical congress together, even with me knowing that neither of us would be ‘faithful’ to each other. My mother was trying as best she could to arrange a marriage for me to a local girl who would accept a Wizard for a husband. And, even if I had lived to marry her, I knew that while I would never take another woman, that I would never spurn Gwydion’s affections, even with me seeking no others, man or woman, to warm my bed.

“We had agreed to leave the place where we shared each other at different times and by different routes. I had walked out onto the Astronomy Tower. A sudden late-spring storm had come up, and I was enjoying the rain and the chill, even while I was having some trouble walking. Gwydion was not a small man in any measure. A sudden gust of wind caught me unaware and cast me off of the Tower to my death. I barely had time enough to repent of my sins, including what I had just done, before flagstone parted me from my body. I knew that while my time waiting to enter Heaven would not be pleasant, that I would enter.

“But Gwydion was on the ground, and he found me just after there was no possibility at all of magically saving my life. He was so horrified, thinking that I had deliberately jumped, that he was about to jump and kill himself. I could not let that happen.

“So, I stayed and confronted Gwydion. I assured, and finally convinced him that my death was genuinely and truly an accident. However, I had to have Gwydion act to preserve his own reputation and live. Assignations such as what Gwydion and I had shared earlier that night were normally ignored, and very frequently at that, if the parties were discrete and both consenting. But they were illegal then, even in the Wizarding World. And, had I been found ‘dead and deflowered,’ Gwydion would have been cast through the Veil of Death for ‘fatally corrupting my innocence.’

“I had him transfigure my corpse into a bone and put it in his pocket. I later had him transfigure it back and bury my body properly in the burying ground of my old Church back home. He managed to do quite well and not get caught. My mother had already had a headstone put up over an empty grave, so that is where I’m buried. My younger brother Sebastian, who started Hogwarts the year I should have taken my NEWTs, was only a year younger than the girl my mother tried arranging for me to marry. They married when he passed his NEWTs, and very happily so. They had five children survive infancy, and they all attended Hogwarts, though they were all Hufflepuffs.

“Myself, I’d also come up with a story about taking a Shrinking Solution and being eaten by a toad, which I told all of our friends, along with whomever else had any right to be told. My story was mostly believed, and no one thought that Gwydion was involved, not even those who doubted my story. Even the Headmaster believed me, or at least he claimed to. But he did get petty and had a ‘club-room’ I’d put together with my friends emptied out with it’s contents stuck in the Room of Requirement. That is a magic room where the house-elves store any ‘extra’ or ‘found’ items, especially ones where a student for whatever reason won’t or can’t claim them.

“I later learned that the Room can also do or be just about anything else without spewing its contents or having them underfoot inside of it, except create food. But the house elves can bring food and drink into the room, so that isn’t a problem. The other thing the Room cannot do is bring you an item that doesn’t exist somewhere in Hogwarts itself. But the Hogwarts Library is one of the largest in the entire world, and if you know where to look has a lot of Muggle texts along with Wizarding ones. The Hogwarts Armory is also quite extensive, both in weapons, and in other items to practice Magical Combat. And the Room can on occasion raid some ingredients from the Potions Lab.”

Accidentally breaking the ‘spell’ Duncan interrupted, “You can’t raid the restricted stores in the Potions Lab from the Room of Requirement if you don’t properly have access, though if you already know the title, you can get copies of books from the restricted section of the Library. Ask me how I know.”

With the accidental spell on him broken, Simon started to retreat from the room in embarrassment, fear, and anger. He retorted, “Well, Artist David, are you satisfied now?”

David placed his hand on Simon’s shoulder while answering; “Your embarrassment or anything else of the like was never my intent, so ‘no.’ I don’t know why you answered, but I will not have any scandal, scorn, judgment, or embarrassment brought upon you or your descendants for answering me. All of us have things we’ve done or thought that we aren’t proud of; I know that I do. But sometimes friends tell each other about those things, without condemning or judging each other. So, I won’t judge you, and my friends won’t judge you either, living or dead.

“Lord Idris died in Italy just like Lord Byron died in Greece. Both men had scandal enough to be getting on with along with their well-earned admiration and fame. But sometimes, even historians, are well advised to let the dead bury the dead. While Idris’s heirs are wealthy enough, your family’s descendents are ordinary people who do not deserve or even desire such a connection beyond your public friendship to House Idris. So, let the dead bury the dead, and let us keep our friends’ secrets at least as faithfully as they keep our own.”

After they looked quickly at each other, Max offered, “And it’s not like you were in a continuing sexual relationship with your older brother. Joe and I are.”

Joe added, “Max and I’ve been doing it with each other for a couple of years. We have no idea when or even if we’ll stop before at least one of us dies. So now, we’re all even. We’ll keep your secrets, and you’ll keep ours, right?”

Relaxing a little, although he was still intensely embarrassed, Simon finally answered, “I guess I’ll keep giving all of you a chance. Even though I spent a lot of my lifetime with moving portraits instead of living people, I do get lonely. And, I hadn’t had the nerve to talk to Kossa until I had her bring my painting of ‘Saint Mabel at Large’ here this morning. And I still haven’t tried tracking Gossamer down to apologize to him for not speaking with him after the last of my living friends left Hogwarts.”

Duncan asked, “Kossa I know. She’s one of the oldest house elves here, and really nice if you’re nice or polite to her. Who is Gossamer, though? The only one I know who would answer to such a name is the ‘Mad Knight’ Portrait that’s hanging in chains in the back of the Slytherin Common Room. They hung him there in chains because he’d become a serious nuisance to the other portraits, even damaging some of their frames and canvases. I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t heard of that.”

Swallowing hard, Simon admitted in a background voice, “I think I did that to him. See, animated portraits of Beings, especially if you don’t get some of the magic directly from your subject, don’t always handle emotions all that well. And, Gossamer might have blamed himself for my withdrawing from contact, and he wasn’t the best-liked portrait even in the best of times.

“He was created from written description only based on Sir Dougal MacDougal, a Wizarding Knight from the early 1600s. He was always rather ‘playful,’ and even enjoyed the occasional prank, unlike Sir Cadogan, who was another Wizarding Knight painted over a century after their death, and who is also slightly unbalanced.

“Portraits painted and animated correctly in the subject’s lifetime will keep their subject’s personality for centuries or more, especially if they’re hung in a building where the subject had a significant connection, such as an ancestral manor house or Hogwarts itself for the Headmasters. Even absent that, they don’t go mad so much as they gradually fade if left unattended. That’s why you typically don’t store your magical portraits in vaults at Gringotts, at least not for very long. The magic there does slow their deterioration, but they still deteriorate without the ambient magic of their family to sustain them. Since the Hogwarts Headmasters and Headmistresses are all connected to Hogwarts itself, they do very well here, and in some cases move freely between the Headmaster’s Office and their ancestral homes, where those homes are still occupied by family. I honestly can’t remember hearing of any of the Headmaster portraits fading.

“As for not hearing about Gossamer, I withdrew from everyone from when Gwydion died. Friar Tuck only coaxed me out to meet with you because he told me David strongly resembled Gwydion. Even with whatever magic accidentally leaked out of David, it was his strong resemblance to Gwydion that had me ‘spill my guts’ earlier. But I thought that ‘Dvořák’ was Bohemian, and Gwydion was very Welsh.”

David told the ghost-painter, “I actually have very little Dvořák blood in me. Though it really is there, much to the chagrin of the legitimate Dvořák family in Czechoslovakia, which is what we call Bohemia today. And House Dvořák is a cadet house of House Floyd, who are Hispano-Irish despite the Welsh surname. As far as that goes, while we weren’t Welsh, we had no problems marrying Welsh people, and I have no idea what went on with my birth-mother’s family. So I very well might have someone from Gwydion Idris’s family as an ancestor. Stranger things have happened before, especially to me.

“Do you think that if we got Gossamer’s frame moved to someplace you wouldn’t mind haunting that you could help him recover his senses? Even if he is far more imagination and spellwork than a regular person, it still doesn’t seem right to leave him suffering in grief, guilt, or whatever, when both he and you are in the same building. And I’m sure that if we asked him respectfully, that Professor Snape would even allow us to move him.”

Simon told David, “I honestly don’t know, but I can try. I didn’t get that far in my NEWTs before I died, and they quit teaching it completely with ‘Dippet’s Razor’ in 1925. Professor Dumbledore was only able to hire Professor Brushman to teach Art, Muggle Art, Photography, and Muggle Photography when Dippet finally retired in 1965. So even if they still teach healing a magical portrait, or if even Professor Brushman himself knows, he doesn’t have the time. And, I think he’s actually more of a magical sculptor, anyhow.”

“And good riddance to that bigoted bastard!” Myrtle added. “I told them till I was blue in the face, or at least would have been blue in the face when I was still alive, that Hagrid and his Acromantula had nothing to do with my death. But ‘Dip-Shit-Dippet’ believed everything Tom Riddle fed him, including that bollocks. And he never wanted Hagrid admitted in the first place!

“Even the Ministry, as bigoted as they were, couldn’t charge Hagrid, so he was only expelled with his wand snapped. Professor Dumbledore got him hired on somehow as apprentice gamekeeper to Mr. Ogg. I wasn’t quite friends with Hagrid, and his ‘pets’ usually frightened me. But Hagrid was nice to me, and he never bullied or picked on anyone.

“I even let Hagrid show Aragog to me about a week before I died. That Acromantula was already huge, but it had eight ‘little’ black spider eyes just like any other spider. The thing that killed me had two large yellow lantern-like eyes, like the headlight on the Hogwarts Express, and it was the gaze from whatever that was that killed me.”

“I’ll remember that, and thanks for telling me” David assured Myrtle. “Hagrid is a friend of mine, and I’ll be sure to ask the Headmaster why he’s still letting that stand. Dumbledore’s been Headmaster for seventeen years. There’s no reason or excuse for him not having at least quietly allowed Hagrid to get another wand and finish his schooling. And, unless Hogwarts has put a bar on a student, you don’t need to get Hogwarts’ permission to take your OWLs or NEWTs. Hogwarts can only bar a person from taking their OWLs or NEWTs when the person is under nineteen. After that, it takes a conviction from the Wizengamot, and that hasn’t been done in over two hundred years.”

Getting back to Gossamer, David asked, “Father, do you know if Professor Brushman, or anyone else had plans to use this classroom this year?”

The Fat Friar replied, “I honestly wouldn’t know. You’d need to ask at least Professor McGonagall about using this classroom for any extended period. But, if you get her permission, then Kossa, or any house elf, should be able to move Gossamer’s portrait here. For that matter, if you get permission to use any other classroom, that would also work.”

Despite the emotionally charged and embarrassing beginnings, the expanded group of friends actually socialized and introduced themselves for the rest of the day, until the living boys had to leave the classroom for afternoon tea.

§§§

One o’clock on the afternoon of Thursday, the twenty-third of September, saw the group of adolescent wizards and ghosts gathered in the now mostly abandoned art classroom. Instead of “Saint Mabel at Large,” a slightly smaller portrait, or at least the frame to one, was on the easel, draped in a silvery coloured cloth.

While the living boys entered, Simon cautioned them, “Don’t mess with the tarp! And I saturated it with my ectoplasm to calm him as well as to make it easier for me to cover and uncover him!”

Once all the boys were seated, with Kossa having brought them tea and biscuits, Bill asked, “How’s he doing, Simon?”

Simon answered, “Not good yet by a long shot, but he is doing better than he had been. And I worked this morning assisting Professor Brushman. He is a Wizarding sculptor by trade before Headmaster Dumbledore hired him, but he also knows the brush. Even not counting scaring the ‘ickle thirdies,’ it was the most fun I’ve had in decades.”

“That’s great!” Willa enthused. “I’m not able to do nearly as much for Madame Hooch. On top of her being around my age had I lived, she went almost directly into being the Flying Instructor and Quidditch Referee, despite never having played a professional game. She started Hogwarts right after I died. To her credit, she was one of the leading activists for the modern safety charms that every professional and school Quidditch Pitch now has by international law. She was a better Seeker in her day as a student, but only because she could actually catch the Snitch. I could fly circles around her, and her Silver Arrow she’s always boasting about was my broom, along with Len’s.

“Far as that goes, maybe it was just as well that I was a ghost when I started working with Len. He married in 1917, and he wasn’t exactly young when they got married. Neither was she as far as that goes, but she gave him two sons and three daughters, even if she and I never got along. While she was a working-class Pureblood, she thought that brooms were for sweeping up! Had I been alive, I’d have ended up a home wrecker for sure, which I honestly had no desire to do even when I was alive. Thank Merlin all of Len’s kids took after him.

“One night, after a particularly nasty argument between the three of us, I told him, ‘Len, don’t become a drunk. Otherwise, stick to ale. After all, ale will never lock you out of your own house and bust up all of your belongs in the front garden just ‘cause you’ve had another pint! Susan and I don’t get along, and we probably never will. But even with that, give her at least another chance, please?’ He gave her more than one more chance, and eventually Susan Victoria Jewkes gave him two sons and three daughters.

“But anyway, even if Rolanda would give me the time of day, I’m still more of a ‘cautionary tale’ about why you shouldn’t learn the Wronski Feint. Never mind that Josef Wronski only invented that move four years ago, and without the improvements my death forced upon the sport it would be attempted murder at best to use it. None of the little jerks have ever actually tried to catch a Snitch in a driving Scottish rainstorm, not that I should have tried, either. But that was the weather that day, and I’ve still yet to see a Quidditch game rained out.”

Tom Daley asked naively, “Can we actually talk about something happy for once?”

With the following roar of laughter from all present breaking the ice, the gathering finally devolved into more or less normal teen commiserating and socializing, ignoring the fact that half of those gathered, including the house elf and the mantled and chained portrait weren’t exactly alive.

§§§

The late afternoon of Friday, the twenty-fourth of September saw David and his living friends Floo into Arabella Figg’s lounge, and walk across Privet Drive to Number Four. Once they got to Number Four, David’s new non-living friends joined them. John was waiting in the entry hallway, just beyond the genkan, as the group of eleven unlocked the door and walked in. The seven living boys sat down to remove their shoes, while the four non-living friends just milled around nervously.

John opined, “Perhaps this would have been less awkward if you had written about bringing your less corporeal friends over for the weekend instead of Professor Snape feeling obliged to write that you might. And to all the teens who are probably older than me, welcome to David’s and my home. I’m John Dvorak, David’s adoptive father, and his paternal uncle by blood. Despite David’s ‘forgetfulness,’ you are welcome in our home, but you are also cautioned to be on your best behaviour. Most of my children and wards also work for a living despite their tender ages, and I will not tolerate your misbehaviour interfering with their work.”

Willa Weholt offered, “Thank you, Lord Dvořák, for welcoming us into your home. Believe it or not, I’m retired from Comet Brooms, so I appreciate not hazarding a person’s situation. I’m Willa Weholt. My fellow ‘girl ghost’ is Myrtle Warren. Our two ‘estrogen-challenged’ friends are Duncan Ashe and Simon Talmadge. Duncan was ‘just a teen,’ but Simon was friends with the Wizarding Poet Gwydion Idris, and he might be a help with lyrics, even with the changes common English has seen in the one hundred sixty years since his ‘living’ time. At least Joe thinks so, and Simon’s giving it a try.”

Saria had quietly walked up behind John and grasped his hand. When she did, she fainted. After John woke her back up, she told David, “You were right. She looks exactly like my birth-mom.”

David was slightly more nervous after that exchange, but he still played the model host. He explained, “Dad, it really was a ‘spur of the moment’ thing, and I wasn’t sure that Simon could make the trip, or that the Ministry wouldn’t ‘go nuts’ with Myrtle visiting. And since our concert this week is in Edinburgh on Sunday, it will be the easiest one for them to go to for ages.”

“How will they get to Edinburgh? And for that matter, how exactly did they get here?”

Myrtle replied, “Lord Dvořák, since none of us had been here before, we waited for David and his living friends to get here before we followed them. If we already know where we’re going, we can just go there. We can’t travel nearly as quickly as Apparation, but it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for us to cross the entire UK, either. Since Duncan and Willa have both been to Murrayfield Stadium, we can all get there quickly enough. Unless you have or can make Portkeys for there, we’ll get there faster than you will.”

David added, “They’re not kidding, Dad. They can probably get from here to Murrayfield Stadium faster then we’ll be able to get from here to Heathrow, and we’re practically next door to it.”

Pet had walked in to the hallway. Being a Squib, she could see the ghosts clearly, and she’d heard most of the conversation. After overcoming her surprise and slight fear, she asked, “Hello to all of you. Do ghosts actually eat or drink anything? My sister Lily never bothered to tell me, not that she and I were on good terms when the four of you would have known her anyway, she was Lily Evans when she was a student.”

Willa volunteered, “As far as I know, Lily mostly talked with Sir Nicholas, he’s the Gryffindor House Ghost. She and I met and talked a few times at Quidditch games. She was a nice person. And, Duncan was still alive then, he was in the same year as Jacob Kowalski.”

Duncan added, “A lot of Gryffindors and Slytherins didn’t get along then, with the war on and all that. But Lily was nice to me the few times we met each other, and we both got along okay. She was a Gryffindor Prefect starting in my second year, and she was Head Girl in my fourth.

“As for food and drink, we really don’t eat or drink. Many of the ‘older’ ghosts like to wade through tables of rotting spoiled food; they say it feels almost like eating. All four of us have tried it at different times, and we all agree that it feels exactly like wading through a table of rotting spoiled food, and that if we were still living that we would all vomit. We still enjoy the smell of good food being made, and the scent of church incense if you were going to burn some anyway, but we’re more interested in meeting or renewing our acquaintance with David’s other friends and family.”

Tim walked into the house, only to be held back by Joe once he’d closed the door behind him. Seeing the houseguests he’d almost walked through, he exclaimed, “Woah! You told Saria that you’d only met them Monday, David. Which one’s Simon?”

Simon, who was actually closest to Tim, shyly answered, “Me.”

Tim replied, “Okay. Joe, let go of my arm and hand, and let’s see if I can at least hear Simon.”

After letting Tim go, Joe nodded and Simon asked, “Can you?”

After a moment of silence, Tim stated, “Just a noise, and the whole group together are barely a shimmer in the air. It’s cool, though. If you’re willing to try working with Joe and me, he’ll be able to touch me or something so you aren’t left out. Debbie and Delilah are no-Maj too, but it’ll be just us four you’ll need ‘help’ talking to and stuff.”

Joe added, “Tom’s and my parents are also no-Maj, or Muggle as you Brits call them. Almost all of the stagehands will also be no-Maj, so when you come backstage with us, you’ll want to be careful not to freak them out or anything, especially the ones who work for us and not the venue.”

“Yeah!” was added from near the top of the stairs. “Hi, guys… and girls. I’m Michael Dvorak, I run the band, where my Dad runs the band business. Dad went through all kinds of hell to hire our road crew. Most of them are no-Maj, but we’ve got three Squibs and a ‘hedge-witch’ working for us too, and they all know about the Wizarding World. If you guys join us backstage, give me enough time before you show up so I can let the crew know you’re with us and welcome. Better yet, Dad, I’ll just call Terry on the phone right now, and tell him to pass the word. That way, nobody will freak out, and if the venue has any ‘hidden’ Squibs or wizards, Terry can just sit on them. He’s one of the Squibs, and he’s a really great guy by the way.”

Michael walked down the stairs, leading Debbie by the hand. While they passed through, Debbie added, “Welcome, all of you. And David, you know that silver dragon thingie you always keep forgetting to send before bringing friends over for the weekend?”

Deciding that more embarrassment would be merrier, Michael added in a conspiratorial voice, “She’s on the gizmo this week.”

Debbie elbowed Michael hard in the ribs while Myrtle and Willa muttered, “Oh, Merlin.”

Not really having any clue, Joe asked, “Why did you girls say that?”

Willa replied, “Well, my naïve living friend, when a group of women and menstruating girls live together in a single house, their periods tend to synchronize. So, if one female resident is on her period, chances are that they all are. Even other girls don’t like being around girls who are entertaining their ‘monthly visitor.’ We just don’t make a bother about because ‘our turn is coming, too.’ Unless, of course, you’ve been dead for seventy-four years or so. For all the things I miss about being alive, that is one I’ll never miss, and mine weren’t that bad.”

While she walked down the stairs, Pixie added, “Don’t worry, Debbie is the only one to get really crabby. If you’re that close of friends with David already, he can explain why the rest of us girls, starting with his own girlfriend, won’t be excessively happy this weekend. I’m Patricia Susan Drake, and I go by ‘Pixie.’ I’m a witch, but I chose to go to Guildford instead of Hogwarts if he hasn’t told you about me, yet. If you could give your names?”

The four ghosts introduced themselves again, and Pixie made her way through the hall and into the lounge. Aaron, Danny, and Delilah were by this time working their way down the stairs, with Paul bringing up the rear. Aaron was leading Harry; Danny was leading Dudley, while Delilah was carrying Lily.

By this time, all the living boys had long since removed their shoes, and in David’s case his socks too, and had gone into the lounge. Once everyone was in there, with Harry climbing up on David to ‘welcome him home,’ Dudley asked, “Who are the see-through people.”

David told Dudley, “They’re friends of mine from school, Dudley.”

After the ghost’s names were given again, Harry added, “I remember Willa! She was seeing a friend when Hagrid brought me in. She even sang to me when I got lonely and started missing ‘first-Mommy.’”

“I’m surprised you remember me, Harry.”

“I’m not, Willa. Harry and Dudley both have a great memory. Wish I could remember three divided by two, though.”

Willa said, “David, I thought you told me that Paul was only in kindergarten.”

Paul told her, “They had my friends Percy, Marty, Peter, and me take a ‘Key Stage 1’ test on Monday. They gave us a ‘Key Stage 2’ test on Tuesday. They moved us to ‘year four’ or third grade on Wednesday.”

“Congratulations, Paul!” David enthused.

Paul glumly answered, “Not really. Now, we have to do our homework, study, and actually pay attention in class. When we were in Kindergarten, we just had to hang out without distracting the other kids. And Uncle Remus is making me write with a quill for him now, too.”

Willa encouraged Paul by telling him, “That’s still great, Paul, especially at your age. Compared to the other kids who grow up outside of the Wizarding World, you’ll get really good grades on your homework at Hogwarts, ‘cause your teachers will actually be able to read it.”

Michael asked, “What time were we expecting Uncle Remus, Uncle Sirius, the Stocks, and the Weasleys to come over to Number Two tonight?”

Looking at his watch, John reminded Michael and everyone else, “They’ll be over in about ten minutes or so, with supper starting at seven. With the way the Knight Bus runs, the Stocks might be a little early or a little late, especially since they need Peter to summon it for them. Were you still doing the linguini with white clam sauce and extra Littlenecks?”

“Yes, Dad. I gave Molly Danny’s recipe for Italian bread, and she’s making four loaves to pass. I also made up a batch of Ranch dressing from scratch, along with a Wisconsin Supper Club French. If I go over there now, I’ll be able to get the kitchen started up so I can serve the salads out at seven.”

John told Michael, “Go on, then. The rest of us will be over in a few minutes.”

Debbie volunteered, “I’ll go and help Michael, Dad. And I’ll see the rest of you in just a few minutes.”

While Michael and Debbie left, David saw Duncan getting nervous. He assured his spectral friend, “We won’t be talking about anything you aren’t wanting to talk about, Duncan. And while I expected the Weasleys, I didn’t expect Uncle Sirius, or Uncle Remus either. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

John added, “Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are friend of the family. Sirius also knows to leave the Scarlet Robe at work if I ask him to. Did you have problems from either man in school?”

Duncan replied less nervously, “Not really. The Marauders played more pranks on Slytherins, but more of their pranks were aimed at the blood-supremacists, so they didn’t actually bother me that much. I had friends in all four houses, and not just Jacob in Gryffindor.”

After a few minutes, the group wandered over to Number Two, just in time to greet their more living supper guests.

§§§

Later that night, Saria and David were in bed together. They were both wearing pyjamas, with Saria wearing an older set of David’s. David was also wearing a pair of toddlers. Fortunately for David, Dudley and Harry had made major leaps and bounds in their potty training since the start of the month. So, while the boys were still wearing nappies, they were the ‘pull-up’ kind, and actually unlikely to get soiled or ‘leaky’ that night. David did have a rubber mattress cover on the mattress just in case.

The young boys were already soundly asleep. Saria and David talked quietly before joining them in slumber.

“It turned out a lot better than I expected, David. But you really do need to be a little bit less ‘spontaneous’ with Dad. And I know he told you too, and I also know that communicating between here and Hogwarts is a royal pain. I am glad you brought your new friends over, though. And while it’s a shame that they’re ‘dead and stuck here,’ they’re great people to know. Where’d they go, anyway?”

“Simon and Duncan are down in the basement with Tim, Joe and Max. Since they’re ‘binge-writing,’ the guys will probably be zombies in the morning, to make a matching set with the ghosts. They do have cots down there when they finally realize that they’ll need that little thing called ‘sleep,’ and maybe we’ll get another good song or two. We do need to write at least some of our own stuff, after all.

“Myrtle and Willa are staying in Pixie and Tim’s room over here tonight. Pixie’s the one of our age group who really knows the Floyd genealogy, after all. And Pixie also knows ‘girling up’ the best out of the four of you, so she and Willa were going to try to get Myrtle to ‘pretty’ herself up a little bit better. I’d be the last person to say that Myrtle isn’t beautiful, but she was bullied for so long that she doesn’t see it herself, and she’s usually either so depressed or angry that most guys’ll miss how pretty she really is, especially with her being a ghost haunting a girls’ bathroom. Don’t know how far they’ll get, though. They’re limited to Willa’s make-up kit she had on her when she died, and ghosts have a very hard time changing their appearance all that much.

“And, while if they’ve died a violent death they’ll usually display the wound or wounds that killed them, that isn’t always the case. Willa crashed into the ground at over one hundred miles per hour at least, Simon fell off of the Astronomy tower, which is something like a twenty story building, and Duncan blew himself up. But other than being ghosts, they don’t look like they had anything happen to them.”

“Were you really just ‘taking the Mickey’ when you told Myrtle to stay out of the bathrooms and bedrooms unless she was invited?”

After chuckling, David told her, “No. Once you get to know her, when she isn’t in a deep funk or pissed off at some stuck-up ‘popular girl,’ she’s more than a bit of a perv. She haunts all the student bathrooms, girls and boys, without being seen. She just scares and chases other girls out of the one she died in. Duncan made her back off, but I’m not sure how long it will last, really.”

“What did he do, David?”

“He, Simon, and Willa made her strip naked for the rest of us. Of course, her complaining and wheedling eventually got them to strip too. None of us living boys wanted to watch any of it, but Duncan was pissed, because he’d never realized that he’d been peeped and perved on by her while he was still alive, and he wasn’t letting Myrtle or us leave without her showing all of us what we’d all already shown her unknowingly. Duncan and Willa denied ever haunting a bathroom they couldn’t use in life, and Simon never volunteered either way.

“And yes, ghosts can strip naked, and no, I didn’t know that they could either, ‘til they actually did.”

“What did they look like, David?”

“Perv! They looked like two naked teen boys and two naked teen girls.”

After Saria pouted at him, he continued, “Okay, fine. Myrtle’s breasts were nicely proportioned, along with her butt. She needed to shave her legs and armpits. Willa didn’t need to shave hers. Her breasts were larger, but still well proportioned. Duncan was well-built, and he was ‘bigger than average’ below the waistline after Simon and both girls taunted him to make it hard. Simon was very skinny, and he got a ‘nervous’ hard-on. His was bigger than Duncan’s was.

“And before you ask, ghosts can’t actually do anything. Ghosts are dead, after all, and the original purpose for sex, no matter what people actually do with it now, is for life to create more life. And without a living body, ghosts no longer feel a lot of things, including orgasms.

“The only reason Duncan and Simon could even get hard was that they expected to because they always did, and that sexuality has a mental component as well as a physical one. Adult men don’t think about sex as intensely or frequently as teen boys do as a rule, nor do they get hard without actually wanting to like teen boys do. So, since ‘nothing can happen,’ adult ghosts don’t bother.”

“Forget I asked, David. Please?”

After they both laughed, Saria asked, “Did you tell them about the Parseltongue stuff?”

“Yeah, later on Monday afternoon, actually. While I didn’t tell them about the soul shard that was in Harry’s scar, I did tell them that a lot of Dark magic was in it, and that Chief Walking Cloud had to lance and siphon it out using Shaman magic, because Wanded magic didn’t work. I told them that Harry gained Parseltongue from that. I also told them about the Floyds having multiple Gaunt women marry into our lines so we could get Parselmouths. While that isn’t exactly common knowledge outside of the family, it’s also not quite a Family Secret, either. As far as I know, the Floyds made no attempt to hide or alter the immigration and birth records that prove it, either.

“While Harry and Dudley actually did great tonight, I wasn’t taking any chances with the ghosts being surprised by Harry and Dudley hissing at each other when and if I brought them over for the weekend. I told all of them to say nothing at school, or to anyone else, and they all gave me their word that they would keep that secret.

“It was the same thing that the Stocks and Daleys were already told either the day Chief Walking Cloud took care of Harry or later on. Dad told Bill everything that day, if you remember? Bill’s Mom and Dad have been told by now, since it’s ‘Order of the Phoenix Business.’ The rest of the Weasleys won’t be told unless Dad decides they need to know. Percy’s too young to understand or deal with it right now, and Charlie’s too immature.”

The two young lovers fell asleep. The rest of their weekend was enjoyable, and not nearly as dramatic as David was afraid it could have been. Joe and Tim, with Simon’s help, actually managed to write two songs, and get Aaron ‘un-stuck’ on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which would become a fairly big no-Maj hit in 1983, as well as a smash hit in the Wizarding World.

The Edinburgh Concert was a big success, and the Hogwarts students, both living and otherwise, returned to school directly from the venue.
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The Yankees Nephew and the Philosophers Stone