"Edgar, I love you, but I will not marry you or any other man."

"But Helena…"

"No, leave now before we go too far and find ourselves trapped in the constrictions of marriage. I will not trade my freedom for the love of a man. If you cannot understand this, then go and never meet me again."

Helena urged the Baron to go. She loved the man, and he loved her even more, but above all she desired knowledge and wisdom, and not an ordinary married life. She wanted to keep the freedom to explore the world on her own. The Baron dreamt of settling down, and raising an heir. That was not the life Helena wanted.

It was the last time they met before that fatal encounter in the forests of Albania. She returned to Hogwarts, the place she had once called home, and he followed her in a vain attempt to gain her forgiveness.

The great hall was quiet at night, so much different from the days, when the school was bustling with life. The two ghosts were shining pale in the moonlight that illuminated the hall.

They were whirling through the deserted great hall as if a storm was carrying them. They were dancing in mid-air, the translucent figures of a young woman with the long, dark hair and a nobleman, clad in blood-stained robes.

They were not really holding hands, but over the centuries, they had perfected their choreography so that it appeared as if their hands could still touch each other.

They danced in the air like they had done on the floor of the very same hall, a thousand years ago when the castle was new. For a while they felt, not alive, but closer to what it had been. It was close enough to the dances of their past to remind them of their time alive, which seemed so short now compared to the countless years they had spent as ghosts.

But they could neither feel the warmth of their hands nor the taste of their lips. They were like wisps of smoke, visible but untouchable, alive yet not. They didn't belong in this world anymore, but unable to move on, they were trapped between life and death.

Dawn was bathing the Great Hall in a fiery red. Soon the castle would wake, and they would part ways. She would withdraw into solitude, avoiding the living, breathing students that passed through the castle, and he would continue to bemoan their loss and suffering that he had caused in one fatal fit of rage.

Even after all those years, she could not forgive him. Once they parted ways, he would feel his guilt even more. Hearing his chains rattle made her feel a grim satisfaction. He would never be free, and she would never let him forget.