Chapter Six: The Whispering Halls

  The sound of bells from the distant clocktower stirred Lily from sleep. She blinked awake in the Ravenclaw dormitory, sunlight streaming through the high arched windows. For a moment, she simply lay there, cocooned in warm blankets, the blue canopy above her still strange but already comforting.

  Then it hit her—she was late.

  She scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over Ash, who let out an indignant meow from his spot at the foot of her bed. “Sorry!” she hissed, pulling on her robes and shoes with clumsy urgency. Her trunk remained half-unpacked; she fumbled through it for her schedule and book bag, barely remembering to grab her wand from the nightstand.

  By the time she reached the Great Hall, it was nearly empty. Most students had already gone off to their first classes. A few older Ravenclaws gave her amused looks as she slid into a seat at the nearly deserted table.

  She stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth, trying not to choke as she scanned her schedule again. Charms—first floor, west corridor. Classroom 3C. She had no idea where that was.

  Shoving the last bite of toast into her mouth, she snatched up her bag and hurried out of the hall, the echo of her footsteps chasing her down the corridors. The moving staircases didn’t help. Twice she stepped onto one just as it shifted beneath her, sending her in the wrong direction entirely.

  By the time she reached the first floor, she was completely turned around.

  She paused in a shadowy hallway, trying not to panic. Her breath misted slightly in the cool air, the only sound the rustle of her robes and the faint hum of ancient magic that seemed to vibrate through the stones.

  And then she saw her.

  Down the far end of the corridor, nearly transparent in the morning light, stood a woman in flowing silver-gray robes. Her hair was long and pale, almost weightless, and her expression distant—but her eyes were locked on Lily.

  The Grey Lady.

  Lily froze, heart skipping. She had read about house ghosts, of course, and seen glimpses of Nearly Headless Nick at the feast. But this was different.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The Grey Lady didn’t speak. She didn’t move closer. She simply turned—gracefully, deliberately—and began to drift down the hall.

  Lily swallowed, then followed.

  The ghost made no sound, gliding just ahead, leading Lily through a series of arches and narrow passageways. At one point, Lily thought they’d doubled back—but then the ghost paused, just briefly, and glanced toward a plain wooden door tucked between two stone columns.

  Classroom 3C.

  Before Lily could thank her, the Grey Lady was gone. No puff of smoke, no vanishing shimmer—just simply not there anymore.

  Lily stood in the quiet for a moment, trying to settle the thrum in her chest. Then, taking a breath, she reached for the door handle and entered.

  The classroom was already buzzing when Lily slipped in, clutching her bag tightly. She kept her head down, cheeks flushed as she searched for a seat near the back. A few Ravenclaws gave her polite nods, but most eyes were forward—fixed on the front of the room where Professor Flitwick stood on a stack of books behind his lectern.

  He was already mid-sentence, voice squeaky but enthusiastic. “—and today we’ll be starting with the Levitation Charm. Simple, yes, but fundamental to everything you’ll learn from here onward!”

  Lily sat stiffly, placing her wand and a small feather on the desk. Her heart thudded against her ribs. She hadn’t spoken a word since entering the room, and she didn’t intend to. Not yet.

  Professor Flitwick demonstrated the proper wand movement—“swish and flick”—with a practiced hand, then recited, “Wingardium Leviosa!” His feather floated up, twirling gently before settling back on the desk.

  “Now, your turn!”

  Around her, the class erupted in muttered incantations and awkward flicks. A few feathers twitched. One burst into smoke.

  Lily glanced down at her own feather. Quietly, she raised her wand. She barely whispered the words—”Wingardium Leviosa”—and her feather rose, smooth and controlled, hovering perfectly in the air before gliding gently down.

  No one noticed at first. She lowered her wand before anyone could.

  “Excellent form, Miss Granger!” Flitwick called from the front, moving to help a struggling pair of Hufflepuffs. Lily exhaled. She didn’t need the praise. The spell had worked. That was enough.

  Beside her, a girl with sleek black braids leaned over. “That was really good,” she whispered. Lily blinked, unsure how to respond. She nodded, barely, and turned back to her feather.

  Later, as the class filed out, Professor Flitwick caught her eye and gave her a small nod. Acknowledgment. Respect.

  Lily ducked her head and slipped away silently, unnoticed again—but not unseen.

  As Lily stepped out of the classroom, the corridor felt quieter than before—still filled with bustling students, but somehow muffled, like the world had dulled at the edges.

  She clutched her bag and moved along the stone corridor, careful not to meet anyone’s eyes. Her thoughts swirled. The spell had come so easily, so naturally. She hadn’t expected that. But she’d felt something shift in her chest when the feather lifted—like a key turning in a long-locked door.

  She wandered through the twisting halls, lost in thought, until the murmur of footsteps behind her made her pause.

  The air grew still.

  Turning slightly, she spotted the Grey Lady floating behind her at a polite distance, her expression unreadable. Lily stopped walking. The ghost didn’t speak. She never did. But her gaze lingered, pale and steady.

  For a moment, they simply regarded each other in silence.

  Then, without a word, the Grey Lady drifted forward and turned a corner.

  Lily hesitated—then followed.

  She walked in the ghost’s quiet wake through halls she hadn’t seen before, down a narrow passage and up a winding stair. The Grey Lady never looked back, but somehow Lily knew she was meant to keep following.

  When they reached the landing, the ghost halted beside a door marked Transfiguration – First Years. As Lily stepped forward, the Grey Lady began to glide away.

  Lily turned, just in time to see her disappear through a wall of ancient stone.

  She whispered, “Thank you,” even though she wasn’t sure why.

  A bell rang faintly in the distance. Lily took a breath and opened the door to her next class.