Meeting my sister Helena was an experience. Ghosts don’t usually linger for happy reasons or thoughts, and my sister was the very definition of emotional baggage, yet we truly bonded as sisters, and due to our natures I was truly expecting the both of us to be together for a long time, if not forever.

-Excerpt from Celestia Ravenclaw’s Journals, on meeting Helena.

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I have been standing at the entrance to my suite for I suppose almost ten minutes now. Simply staring in disbelief.

On the right side is a workstation, a simple desk and what looks to be a medieval office chair, with floor to ceiling windows that arch at the top, one on each side of the desk. The curtains are a royal blue, the same as my eyes. 

In the middle of the room is what I can only assume is a parlour. A two seat sofa in black and royal blue, with a small wooden coffee table and a couple of armchairs following the theme of the sofa.

The room is divided in two, with the right side being the “office” and “parlour”, and on the left is the bedroom, partitioned by some weird mix of a glass-like curtain. It’s wavy and has a fabric-like texture, but at the same time it almost reminds me of glass.

The bedroom is what truly has me baffled. A stand alone bath with bronze fixtures, and a wooden door I assume leads to the lavatory. A body height mirror and two wardrobes of a few meters in width. The entire room looks fit for a royal, but there is no bed, sort of.

On the bedroom side there is a pile of gold, with a folded blanket on top.

I know this room works like the Room of Requirement, that upon opening the door it changes according to my subconscious preferences, but I didn’t know my dragon tendencies would leave me without a bed.

Shaking myself out of my disbelief I mutter out loud. “Oh what the hell.” Before walking to the pile of gold. My mind still reeling at the weirdness of the situation.

I dip a hand into the gold, and where a regular pile would shift and a few coins falling off the pile and rolling on the floor, this is obviously a magical “bed”. The coins are softer than what I expected, almost like a hard pillow, and the entire pile is contained within an invisible frame.

Looking back to make sure the door is locked, I turn back around towards the “bed” and unconsciously nibble on my lower lip, before letting out a sigh and jumping into the pile.

It’s the most magical feeling I have ever experienced. As Emma I bought myself a really comfortable be when I moved to my own place, but that bed has nothing on the sheer rightness this new bed gives me.

I shift and wiggle trying to find a more comfortable position. The blanket levitates, unfolds and covers my body. A smile spreading across my face.

Comfort and warmth envelop me and I begin to doze off.

“Hello sister.”

Having let my guard down I jump in shock and the sound of soft gold clinking together distracts me for a moment, before I turn back to the intruder.

At the entrance to my suite is a ghost, looking almost like a younger version of mother Rowena.

Her features are ghostly and transparent, yet somehow the colour spectrum bleeds through, and I can tell she has dark hair and eyes. Small dimples on each side of her cheek with her lips formed into a smirk.

“Hello Helena.”

Floating towards the middle of the room she looks around taking it all in, nodding to herself she turns back to me. “It almost looks like mothers when she used to live here.” Looking at my bed she tries to muffle a snicker with her hand, however that works for ghosts. “Except the bed? That’s new.”

Scowling at her, I let the nagging feeling that I felt the first time I met mother become the focus of my thoughts. Here is a ghost, that gave away the location of mother’s diadem just in spite, and has lingered for centuries, yet it feels like she’s a big sister who’s been there my entire life, watching me grow. I could never explain that feeling with mother Rowena, or Hecate, yet I welcome the feeling of familiar love.

“It’s good to see you, Helena.”

A smile adorns her ghostly face, and I ponder if this is the first time she’s smiled since dying.

“Likewise little sister.”

She floats over to the window by the parlour, overlooking the quidditch field. I walk over to one of the armchairs and take a seat, already missing the comfort of my pile of gold.

“Are you going to fix my mistake?”

Now this was something I didn’t expect. I am fairly certain she hasn’t left the castle, yet I have a feeling she is as up-to-date with my life as mother Rowena was. Then I remember, mother Hecate is also the Goddess of ghosts.

“I see mother Hecate has brought you up to speed.”

She turns around and faces me, still a smile on her face. “Indeed, though you didn’t answer my question.”

Floating towards the armchair opposite mine, she somehow sits down. Is that something mother Hecate did, or is it the magic of the room?

“I don’t know. There is one thing I noticed whenever I read or watched the original works. ‘And either must die at the hand of the other’.” Picking up one of the cups of tea that the house elves popped into my room I take a sip and frown. Milk and sugar, how do they even know my preferences? Shaking my head to rid myself of the random thoughts. “I never believed much in prophecies, and even with one of my mothers being who she is I still don’t truly believe, but there is one thing I always noticed.”

Helena picks up the other cup and I swear I saw a smirk before the rim covered her mouth. What is going on? She sits in a chair and drinks tea? You know what, I’m just going to assume this is due to mother Hecate, I’ll ask her next time she visits my dreams.

“Which is?” Her voice drags me back to reality, and I notice I tend to space out a lot. “I don’t believe that Harry is the only one that can kill Voldemort, but I did notice that anyone trying to destroy a horcrux without involving Harry, somehow ended up dying. Regulus, Dumbledore. I’m not familiar enough with the magic of Horcruxes to be able to tell if that’s just a coincidence, the nature of it’s magic or if somehow magic or fate created opportunities where they would die.”

She places the cup back on the table. “I see. The hour grows late, I will let you get back to your bed.” She snickers at me yet again and I scowl.

“Will you come visit?” I ask her, and my voice betrays me as I can tell I sound hopeful.

She floats towards the door, before stopping and looking over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t be a good sister if I didn’t make sure you were alright.” She winks at me before floating through the door. At least I know where she got her flair for dramatics, mother Rowena is much the same.

After doing my nightly routine, I find myself smiling as I lay down on the pile of gold. I have been here for years now, yet it has gone by in a blink of an eye, and I can tell I don’t miss my old life as Emma. While I have a lot of questions regarding what’s going on, somehow I have found a family that loves me.

I feel warm as I slowly drift off into sleep, thinking of this weird little family. A portrait, a Goddess, a ghost, and a dragon.