L
---
Chapter 45 – Ghostly Troubles
Audrey's eyes widened slightly as she blinked.
So this was what it felt like to have a Head of House who was openly, shamelessly biased toward his own House?
Because it was a revision lesson, Snape didn't waste time demonstrating. Instead, after everyone finished the first potion, he had the class move straight on to the second.
A Sleeping Draught.
A potion taught in second year.
Once again, Audrey completed the brewing flawlessly.
"Miss Astray has achieved the best result again," Snape said coolly.
"Ten points to Slytherin."
When Potions class finally ended, Audrey stepped out of the dungeon classroom.
Immediately, the ghosts surged back toward her—drawn like moths to a flame.
At the same time, a group of fifth-year students crowded around her.
"Miss Astray, did you study Potions before Hogwarts?"
"Do Muggles even have potions?"
"Can you teach me? I want to be an Auror one day, but Professor Snape terrifies me!"
Before Audrey could answer a single question, the students abruptly scattered.
The reason was simple.
The ghosts had arrived.
Anyone who had ever brushed against a ghost knew what it felt like.
Cold.
Bone-deep, soul-freezing cold.
Realising she was once again being completely surrounded, Audrey paused, thought for a moment… and turned back.
"Professor Snape!"
Snape was still in the classroom, organising ingredients. Soft music floated through the air.
Lilies of the Night—a lyrical piece composed by the Astray siblings in 1988.
The moment Snape saw her, his brow furrowed. He flicked his wand, and the music cut off abruptly.
"Miss Astray," he said coldly, "why have you returned? If you've forgotten something, then I must question whether you possess the basic prudence of a Slytherin."
Audrey was briefly surprised that he had been listening to her music—but this was hardly the time.
"Professor," she said seriously, "I want to learn the spell you used to expel the ghosts. Being followed around like this is unbearable."
Snape's expression didn't change.
"That authority is granted by Hogwarts itself to professors," he replied flatly. "It is not a spell students can learn."
He looked at her pointedly.
"If you want such authority, then become a professor first."
"As a student," he added sharply, "you should focus on your studies, not indulge in unrealistic fantasies."
Then he paused.
"And tell me—have you studied Potions before?"
"Yes, Professor," Audrey answered honestly.
"Two months before term started, Headmaster Dumbledore arranged a tutor to help me review the first four years' material."
Snape's displeasure was obvious.
"Oh?" he said. "And which Potions Master did Dumbledore entrust with that task?"
"Um… Mister Nicolas Flamel."
Silence.
Snape stopped moving.
Nicolas Flamel—one of the greatest alchemists in history. His mastery of potions was beyond question.
What Snape didn't know was that Audrey's real foundation came from years of self-study while pretending to be a Squib—purely to relieve boredom.
"I see," Snape said at last.
"Then do not waste your talent. Study properly."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"You may go."
"Yes, Professor."
Having failed to solve the ghost problem, Audrey left the classroom in a foul mood.
Iselin Windsor was still waiting outside.
"Audrey, hurry! Let's go to the Great Hall for dinner!"
It seemed that the friendship bought with two crayfish had truly taken root.
"Yes, Iselin."
But Audrey couldn't walk beside her.
She had to trail at least ten yards behind.
Because of the ghosts.
Looking at the translucent figures clustering around her, Audrey sighed softly.
---
Before Transfiguration class, Audrey once again led a ghostly procession into the classroom.
Professor McGonagall was visibly startled.
With a sharp flick of her wand, the room instantly became a ghost-repelling zone.
"Ah—"
As the ghosts were forcibly expelled, Audrey finally let out a breath of relief.
If this kept up, she wouldn't survive Hogwarts.
Watching McGonagall exercise her authority only made Audrey more envious.
I'm so jealous of professors…
Unlike Snape, Professor McGonagall didn't review old material.
She already knew Audrey's level.
Before term began, Dumbledore had told her everything. He had been certain Audrey would be sorted into Gryffindor—and McGonagall had been delighted for days.
Only for the Sorting Hat to send her to Slytherin instead.
A pity.
That said, Audrey's Transfiguration was genuinely extraordinary.
"Miss Astray was the first to transform an owl into a telescope!"
"The proportions… the detailing…"
"Perfect transformation! Five points to Slytherin!"
For someone who could apply advanced Transfiguration in real combat, fifth-year material was effortless.
The rest of the class sank into self-doubt.
Was she really Muggle-born?
Surely she'd been secretly trained by some ancient family?
Otherwise… didn't that make them look painfully mediocre?
---
By the time the first day of classes ended, everyone was exhausted.
Because Potions had been revision, those who failed only had to submit a twenty-inch essay.
Transfiguration, however, was merciless.
An essay on "The Principles of Animal-to-Inanimate Transfiguration."
Minimum: forty inches.
Forty inches.
Nearly a metre long when unrolled.
No large handwriting allowed.
Hogwarts students had it worse than full-time writers.
Audrey decided to deal with that later.
Right now, she wanted comfort food.
"Spicy chicken, stinky mandarin fish, boiled beef, braised duck."
"Momo, that'll do."
She sent the order through the Slytherin table and waited quietly.
Iselin glanced at her.
"Audrey, why aren't you eating?"
"I ordered. It's just not here yet."
The little snakes all looked on with interest. Last night's crayfish feast had left a deep impression.
Moments later, the dishes appeared.
Three spicy, one pungent.
Before Audrey could lift her chopsticks, the ghosts swarmed in again.
"Oh! That smell!"
"I can taste it!"
"How wonderful!"
Even Helena Ravenclaw floated closer, quietly appreciating the fragrance of the stinky mandarin fish.
Audrey's lips twitched.
Her fingers tightened—
Snap.
The chopsticks broke in half.
The hot dishes instantly turned ice-cold.
The Slytherins who had been hoping to steal a bite immediately lost interest.
Miss Astray looked like she was about to cry.
Audrey finished dinner miserably.
Before she even reached the common room, sharp pain twisted her stomach.
Diarrhoea.
Of course.
Frozen all day by ghosts, then oily, spicy cold food.
Even a magically nurtured body had limits.
And then—
"Can you all get out?! Can't I have any privacy?!"
Ghostly forms kept leaking through the partitions.
Though they were polite enough not to peek, the sheer presence made it impossible.
This was the last straw.
Audrey clenched her teeth, cast a Vanishing Spell on her abdomen, pulled up her trousers, and stormed out.
"Sizzle!"
She vanished.
Leaving the ghosts staring at one another in confusion.
When she reappeared, she was already in the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore was reading a letter, smiling like a boy who'd just received a love note.
"Audrey?"
He quickly put it away.
"What brings you here?"
Then he saw her expression.
"Child… what's wrong?"
Audrey looked more aggrieved than when the Greys had emptied the Lestrange vaults.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," she said tearfully,
"I'm cold."
"And hungry."
"I just want a hot meal."
---
L