Summary: A thousand years ago, a curse forced Salazar to live like a ghost. Now, a thousand years later, he still roams the castle he once helped build. But no one notices him. No one could see him. Not even the ghosts. And it had been that way for a thousand years. It was a dull existence. That is, until one girl starts to notice him.

Disclaimer: Look, if I was J. K. Rowling... would I be writing this? I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money out of this... unfortunately.

Notes: For those of you following Murphy's Law, don't worry, I haven't abandoned it. I just wanted to get this fic out.

Catch Me If I Fall

Chapter 1

Every year it's the same. He watched the students come and go. He always made sure that he would be present during the sortings. Sometimes, he'd even chuckle at the silly songs that Godric's hat came up with. And when it was all over, he would roam the corridors again.

At first, he had hoped that he would at least be able to make some intelligent conversation with someone. But everytime he tried, he would be met with silence, empty stares, and eyes that see through him, literally. No one could see him. No one could hear him, no matter how loud he shouted.

Not even the ghosts knew of his presence.

He tried to leave messages, but found that he could not even do a task as simple as picking up a quill. Oh, he could sit, lie down, or lean against something, but that's about it. Everytime he reached for a book or a goblet, or almost any object, really, his hand met nothing but air. He could not grasp anything, grab anything. He could not even push a feather quill with his finger.

It was a horribly dull existence.

And so, he settled himself to watching the people around him.

Then, when summer came, he would roam the hallways again.

He tried to leave, but found that he couldn't. Like the ghosts of his castle, he was trapped. Trapped inside the very building he had built along with his friends.

Friends who had died nearly a thousand years ago.

He sat on one of the bleacher seats in the Quidditch pitch, watching the Slytherin team practice. As much as he hated to admit it, his beloved house's Quidditch team was in serious need of help. Oh, they were still sneaky and all that. They'll hex the other team if they could get away with it.

But no, that's not why he was bemoaning his house's Quidditch team this year. In was the fact that the team had not only lost their seeker, they had also lost a significant member of their house.

The Malfoy boy.

Who turned out to be a follower of the one they called Voldemort.

He sighed. And he had such high hopes for the boy. The Slytherin Quidditch team seemed to have lost some of their spirit this year. And he hadn't blamed them. Many among their ranks had divided loyalties during this war.

He shook his head. He had heard, and sometimes even seen, numerous dark wizards over the centuries. They tend to come and go. This one, however, caught his attention.

Because as dark wizards go, this was the first, and only one, who have been known to come back from the dead.

And that intrigued him. Especially since he himself was trying to do the exact same thing.

Except he never died in the first place.

To be continued...

Notes: Sorry, it's probably a boring first chapter. The first couple of chapters are going to be mostly descriptive. Sorry, it can't be helped. Salazar was incapable of conversing with anyone at this point. I promise, there'd be more interactions in later chapters. But for now, please bear with me.

Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!