Hermione smiled as she wearily fell onto her sofa. She had been out apartment hunting all day, and she felt sore all over. She muttered a few things under her breath about greedy building owners who sold adorable old buildings to department store chains, but her heart wasn’t in it tonight.
Because she had found another apartment.
It was an adorable little brownstone in the middle of London. Even though all the other tenants were Muggles, which would severely complicate things, the apartment was simply perfect.
Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote a note to Ron.
Ron -
I found a wonderful little apartment today. It’s absolutely amazing - the perfect size, lots of bookshelves and other storage space, and I can move in tomorrow. The only downside is that it’s in Muggle London, but that doesn’t really matter. I absolutely love it! The address is on the other side of the parchment. See you for dinner on Friday.
Love, Hermione
She sent the letter off with her tawny owl, ate a light dinner, and headed to bed.
Hermione sighed as she dropped the last box on the floor. Because the apartment she was moving into was in the middle of Muggle London, she had to carry all of her boxes up four flights of stairs - a trying task even when the boxes were Charmed so that they weren’t heavy.
But now - Hermione locked her doors and closed the blinds. Waving her wand at the boxes, she watched contentedly as her belongings flew out of the boxes and to the proper rooms. She went from room to room putting things into baskets, onto shelves, and into cupboards. She unshrunk her furniture and used several Hover Charms to put them into their proper places.
When she was done, Hermione looked around happily. What a lovely apartment, she thought. The blue walls and the brown carpets complimented each other, and with all of her pictures scattered around the apartment, Hermione could tell that she would enjoy her time here.
Hermione stretched her arms above her head and arched her back. Carrying boxes up multiple flights of stairs all day long was not easy. A bath, she decided, yawning. A nice long bath with a good book, and then bed.
Hermione opened her eyes slowly, yawning in the early morning light that was streaming through her windows. The ceiling of her apartment greeted her. Though she could be quite content laying there and staring at the white expanse all day, she had things to do.
Hermione sat up. Her eyes widened in shock, and she screamed.
Even living as a witch for many years, becoming comfortable with the wizarding world, and practising magic nearly every day had not prepared Hermione for what she saw. A little girl in a white robe was sitting at the foot of her bed. Looking at the girl’s blonde curls and startling blue eyes, though, Hermione felt a sense of calm wash over her.
“I - I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t expect to see anyone here,” said Hermione. “My name’s Hermione. What’s your name?”
The girl stared at her. After several moments, Hermione realised she would not talk to her. “Well, you’re very pretty. So how about I call you by a pretty name until you tell me yours? Let’s see… How about Mackenzie?” Hermione asked. Maybe if I keep calling her by a name that isn’t hers, she’ll get annoyed enough to tell me her name, Hermione thought.
The girl continued to stare at her. Her icy blue eyes had a hint of curiosity and mystery in them. Well, mysterious girl or not, Hermione had to get some things done today. “Mackenzie, I have to get dressed. How about you go wait in the living room? You can watch the telly. And then I’ll make us some breakfast, okay?”
Hermione waited patiently for the girl to move. After several minutes, during which the girl did nothing more than stare at her, Hermione’s resolve cracked.
Slowly approaching the bed, Hermione smiled reassuringly at the little girl. She reached out a hand, hoping her little visitor would allow herself to be lead into the living room.
Still nothing. Hermione really was getting annoyed now. She had several time-consuming things to do today, and this little girl was putting her behind schedule. She moved to pick up the little girl and simply carry her into the living room.
But her hands passed straight through her.
Hermione frowned. Tried again. Still her hands came up empty. This isn’t logical. The logical explanation would be that this little girl is a ghost, and I’ve moved into a haunted apartment. But ghosts are colourless… They don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes. Their hair and eyes are silver. And besides, this little girl isn’t transparent. She looks for all the world like a normal human girl, Hermione thought quickly.
She ran into the living room and reached for British Ghosts: Past, Present, and Future. It had a listing of all the ghosts in the world and - Hermione liked this part best - it automatically updated itself within one week of the ghost’s appearance in Britain.
She flipped through the first two hundred pages before closing the book in disgust. The book was organised based on the ghost’s age, and she estimated that the little girl was no older than ten, which meant she would have been within the first hundred pages. Hermione had kept looking, though, in case she simply looked younger than she was. But she found nothing. None of the pictures looked even remotely like the little girl sitting on her bed.
Disgusted, Hermione hurtled the book across the room. It banged into her fireplace and fluttered to the floor. Hermione crossed the room and picked it up. After all, it wasn’t the book’s fault it wasn’t being helpful. Maybe she’s a new ghost, thought Hermione, and the book just hasn’t updated itself yet.
But she knew in her heart that something wasn’t right about this little girl.
“Oh, shoot,” Hermione muttered, bending down again. A piece of parchment had fallen out of the book. She read it aloud.
“Author’s note: It has come to my attention that there are several ghosts out there that do not look or act like ghosts. They appear solid, do not float, and often refuse to talk. But they are most definitely ghosts, because they only appear to wizards, seem bound to a single place, and are not solid. I do not yet know what causes this phenomenon, but I will do my best to see that this mystery is unravelled.”
Hermione slowly lowered the parchment, trembling slightly. “A ghost, but not a ghost… a mystery… unravel…”
Hermione stood in her brand new living room in her pyjamas, no longer caring about what she had planned for the day, as she realised that she had a mystery to solve.
She walked back to her bedroom, and stared at the child sitting on her bed. “Mackenzie… Are you dead?” she asked.
The little girl slowly raised a finger to her lips, as if she was going to say ‘Shh…’ and faded into nothingness.
The Little Girl In White by hermione210
Chapter Notes: Thanks to my beta, Katie / harrypotterfangirl21 and to Kristy / butter_beer_drinker, who prompted this fic in the Challenge a Gryff thread.