Bedtime Story

By the time Owen finally saw the Goodloves off, it was midnight, and all of Harris Manor had fallen silent. Allen, who had already been asleep in bed for a while, rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed. He had drunk far too much at the banquet tonight and before going to sleep.

A little later, after lightening his weight somewhat on his way back to his bedroom, Allen saw his daughter Helena drifting through the pitch-black room. His hand tightened slightly. A ghost was not a living thing, after all; she did not need sleep, and could not truly sleep. Wandering through the room like this in the dead of night, she must have been terribly lonely.

Allen straightened his pajama trousers so he would look less sloppy and lazy, then called softly to his daughter, "Helena."

"Father?" Helena turned and floated over.

The portrait Allen had retrieved earlier from the entrance to the Hogwarts kitchens appeared in his hand. Allen looked at Helena and said gently, "This is Helga Hufflepuff's portrait. Would you like to hang it in your room? That way, when you're bored at night, you can talk with Helga to pass the time."

Allen was just about to unfurl the canvas when he heard Helena say, "Father, it's too late. Don't disturb her." Helena drifted two steps forward and brushed her hand over the top of the scroll. "Let's hang it in the kitchen instead. She likes watching people cook, and she'll become friends with Grandmother. Don't worry, Father. I was only getting familiar with the house."

"Then I'll take you back to your room first. You can get familiar with it slowly during the day. You don't need to deliberately hide your condition—if you want to walk through walls, go right ahead. Our