He was more surprised than anyone to be staring down at his own body.

"Wait–how–"

His eyes were glassy and his body was outstretched on the ground. His clothes were disheveled and his hair was still a moppy mess. His expression was indeed one of surprise, and he was sure his expression now was still the same.

Wait. How am I seeing this?

Michael started to look at more than just his own body on the ground, then his heart – or where he thought his heart would have been – felt like it dropped.

But…could he really feel?

His eyes wandered from his body to his arms, back down to his legs. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but the more he stared at himself in this new form, the more shocked he became. He could literally see through himself. His once sharp outline was now muddled with the air around him, his color changing from the various shades of pinks, cremes, and darker hues to different grays and blues.

He had become a ghost.

"MICHAEL!" a voice rang out through the hall.

Michael's head snapped to the voice. He watched as Roman ran to his lifeless body in the hall. Seamus and Neville had been right on his heels, but had slowed as Roman approached Michael's body.

The expression he saw on Roman's face was nothing short of heart breaking. It was the first time that Michael had seen Roman instantaneously start crying. He watched as his brother knelt down next to him to check for his pulse. When the beats never came, Roman brought his hand to his face and wept.

He could hear a set of footsteps leaving, noting Seamus' absence when he looked around the hall once more. The only person he could think that would be coming next was Clara.

Thinking back on his entire life, for having a sister he never really saw Clara cry. She and Roman were always too busy taking care of him and being strong for him to let those emotions slip out.

Michael started to panic for a moment, backing up until he could see a wall around his peripherals. Before he knew it, he had floated outside of the castle.

He stared wide eyed at the wall that was now six-inches from his face, then to his body once more, then back to the wall.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice came from his left.

He turned to see a woman with dark hair floating towards him. Her face was one of concern and worry as she looked upon her comrade.

Michael sighed as he looked at Helena Ravenclaw. Most of his friends knew her as the White Lady, but to him she was just "Helena". There were times when he'd stroll around random parts of the campus to clear his thoughts, and she would join him. Some days they'd talk, some days they'd just admire the beauty around them. He thought that she enjoyed the company — someone treating her as if she was normal. There were seldom any students who did that for her, as she had explained to him one day.

"I'm…I'm not sure."

She floated closer to him and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, not used to being able to reach out and actually touch him. "You're alright."

"Am I? I'm pretty sure I'm dead."

Helena nodded. "That may be true. Not everyone gets to come back, though."

"Why is that?" he asked her, still trying to adjust to the fact that he was now a Hogwarts ghost.

"No one is really sure. I assume that I'm here because of my mother…" She trailed off slightly. "As for you, I'm sure that there's something important that you still have to do. Or at least some way you can still help the students here. If not, then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He wasn't really satisfied with her answer. How could the school need him more than his family did? Why couldn't he just fall back into his old body? Come back to life and really help the ones who needed him?

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"And that's it? That's all I have to do?"

"Well, my boy, did you think being a Hogwarts ghost was going to be difficult?"

Nick clapped Michael on the back as they floated in the Great Hall.

"But…I dunno…I thought there'd be more to it."

Nick pondered for a moment. "Michael, believe me when I say that even though patrolling the halls and keeping ourselves entertained with students might not seem like much, sometimes we impact them more than you realize."

Michael nodded, thinking about his times with Helena.

"As besides," Nick continued, looking feverishly towards the entrance, "we wouldn't want you to become another Peeves…"

Michael smirked weakly.

The ghosts of Hogwarts had been kind enough to assist him in his transition. When he had first settled in to the castle after the battle, it wasn't hard to see that he was very out of place. He didn't know what he could and couldn't do, wasn't sure who he could and couldn't talk to. Where could he go? What were his limits?

Nearly Headless Nick had taken him under his wing. He wanted to train him to be another ghost of Gryffindor house, which seemed only appropriate since he was wearing the house's uniform. He had explained the ins and outs of the dorm, educated him in a little history about the place, and even showed him a spot where he could sort of "live". He used that term loosely considering the situation Michael was in.

As grateful as Michael was for the treatment, he was still having a hard time transitioning. He and the other ghosts helped with getting the castle back up into top form for the new school year, but if he wasn't helping he was hiding.

As the school year began, Michael tried to go into the halls to look after students as Nick had instructed.

It was difficult.

His friends would see him and either be frightened by his appearance or become overwhelmed with emotions. He had to be asked by Professor McGonagall to roam the halls only at night. He could see the pain in her face when she instructed him to do so.

But he agreed.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Many years later, Michael was patrolling the halls at night as usual. He considered himself almost like a vampire - he roamed the halls by night and rested by day. He wasn't sure if it was a curse or a blessing that Filch considered him one of his favorite ghosts (mainly because he would get students in trouble for being out of bed).

Turning a corner, he was surprised to find a girl sitting by herself near the courtyard. He could hear distant sniffles. Floating closer, he found a small brunette. She was maybe a second year, dressed in pajamas and her cloak.

"Hello?" he called out.

The girl whipped around quickly, eyes wide when she realized what had stumbled upon her.

"Are…are you alright?" he asked.

The girl stood, still scared that she was being spoken to by a ghost. "I'm…I'm fine thank you."

Michael rolled his eyes as he moved closer to the girl. "You know you shouldn't be out this late."

She nodded.

"Then…what are you doing out here?"

Looking around, she replied, "I'm just…just…"

"Trying to lie to get out of being in trouble?"

Oh goodness, he sounded like Clara.

The thought of his sister hit him like a ton of bricks, but he never let it show on his expression.

The girl's shoulders slumped slightly as she looked down. "Am I going to lose points for my House?"

He looked at the insignia embroidered on the girl's robes and saw the gold and red that made his heart swell with pride. "Nah."

She looked up sharply in surprise. "I'm…I'm not?"

He shrugged. "I can't rat out a fellow Gryffindor, can I?"

Shaking her head. "No, probably not."

He gestured for her to follow him. "I'll take you back to the dormitory."

Slowly trailing behind him, the girl followed this ghost. She thought about how young he looked. He couldn't have been much older than her, and he definitely didn't talk as if he'd been a ghost for long. He was different than the other spirits in the castle.

"So why were you crying by yourself?"

She stopped halfway through their walk. "I was not crying."

Michael laughed, turning back to the girl in disbelief. "Perks of being a ghost. I've got great hearing you know."

"Really?"

Michael, for the first time in what felt like years, let out a large laugh. "Nah, I'm only pulling your leg."

The girl couldn't help but let a smirk slip out. "You're very mean."

"Be thankful I found you and Peeves didn't. Then you'd see what mean really means."

The girl swallowed as she looked all around and above them, hoping not to run into the pranking spirit.

"So, why were you crying?"

The girl was quiet for a few moments. "I miss my family. A lot."

Before the girl knew it, she had completely walked through Michael. She paused in fear when she did so, not knowing if anything would happen to her or him when she did so. Turning around, she could quickly see pain in Michael's face as his expression was fixed dead ahead of him.

"I miss mine, too," he replied.

Walking back, she stood in front of him. "What's your name?"

"Michael. But most people call me Mikey."

"That's not a very ghostly-name."

"What's your name, then?"

"Daisy."

"That's not a very person-y name."

She rolled her eyes again as she folded her arms.

"Come on, Flower Girl," Michael teased, floating ahead of her.

Silence settled between the two once more as they continued their journey.

"How come I don't see you during the day?" she asked randomly.

He shrugged. "I haven't been a ghost for too long. Too many people know me."

"When did you die?"

"During the battle."

No more words were shared between the two as the heaviness of Michael's circumstances weighed in on both parties.

When they approached the Fat Lady's portrait, Daisy turned to Michael. "You know, you could probably come back out during the day. You could help a lot of people."

He smirked. "Only those who cry near courtyards."

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

He shook his head, disappearing into the wall now that his task was complete.

She huffed slightly before turning to the Fat Lady. "Dragon Egg."

The portrait didn't move.

"Dragon Egg," she said more forcefully.

Still nothing happened.

Daisy groaned loudly as she nearly said in a shout, "Dragon Egg!"

"If you haven't noticed," Michael started, sticking his head out of the portrait, "that password is no longer in use."

His sudden appearance made Daisy squeak and fall backwards. She sent a glare up to Michael as she stood back up on her own two feet and put her hands on her hips. "Really? Had no idea."

"I could tell. You kept using the wrong password."

"Are you always this snarky?"

"I think death has made me snarkier."

Daisy threw her hands in the air and sat on the top of the staircase before her. "I guess I'll have to wait until morning."

"Or you could ask me nicely."

She sat silently.

Michael huffed as he looked at the Fat Lady. "Salve!"

She nodded at him kindly as she swung the portrait hole open for him.

Daisy turned around in awe as she stood up and walked in towards where Michael was now hovering.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

He nodded. "Stay out of trouble now."

As he started to float away, she called out to him, "So are you gonna come out more often?"

He paused, looking back at the girl who seemed desperate not to lose her new friend. "Maybe."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Two years passed since his encounter with Daisy, and Michael found himself sitting up at the Astronomy Tower during a late night.

"I thought I'd find you here," a soft voice called from behind him.

He smiled in recognition of the voice. "I'm always here."

Helena came up next to him and shared in his view. "Especially on your Death Day."

He nodded. "Did it get easier for you?"

"Somewhat. I think once I found my place here, it made things a little more bearable."

Michael smirked.

"You've definitely found your place. Now that you're going around during the day helping students, I think they really like you."

He shrugged. "I just treat them like family."

She placed a hand on his shoulder which forced him to look at her. "And for some of them, that's a great help."

He looked at her sweetly before returning his gaze to the grounds that had become his permanent home. "In all honesty, I think it's helped me more."

Something short :) Hope you like it!

With Love,
sparrowlina