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Where Lost Things Go

The Girl

Days turned into weeks turned into months. In that week between Christmas and New Year’s where nobody seems to remember what day it is, George started having serious conversations with their brother, Ron.

New Year’s Day. Fred decided to walk down Diagon Alley around midnight. He could see the fireworks display that the muggles set off every year from where he was.

He was so distracted that at first, he didn’t see the young woman stumble out of Knockturn Alley.

No, not quite Knockturn Alley, but the wall of the last shop before Knockturn Alley.

If nobody knows I’m still here, Fred thought, maybe it’d be alright if I helped her.

He continued, a thought dawning on him, Why shouldn’t I help her? I mean, she’s hurt. Bad.

Fred approached the girl and helped her to her feet, wondering how he was able to do it, as all the other ghosts he’d ever encountered in his life had never been in such a semi-solid state.

“Hey, want me to get you to St. Mungo’s? It’s the easiest hospital I can get to,” he asked.

She replied sharply, “No! No hospital. They’ll find me...”

“Right. Ok. My flat it is then.”

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