Myrtle Warren, otherwise known as Moaning Myrtle, was famous for holding a grudge. She held grudges against every student that wronged her, every student that pitched a book through her ghostly head. But her most infamous grudge was against Olive Hornby, the girl who teased her relentlessly when she was alive. Myrtle vowed to haunt Olive as long as she was alive. And she did. Olive's last years at Hogwarts were literally hell, with nothing going right for her.

But Olive Hornby got one major thing that Myrtle Warren didn't. Olive got to grow up, she got to have a family, a life outside of a petty schoolgirl relationship. Myrtle didn't get that. Myrtle got stuck being a ghost, the literal definition of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Myrtle was dead, Olive was alive. Olive moved on, Myrtle didn't.

Even though Olive said that she wasn't worried about Myrtle, it lingered in the back of her mind. She didn't know what a ghost would be able to do, but she didn't want to test it.

Even after she left Hogwarts, Myrtle continued to haunt her. After Myrtle crashed Olive's brother's wedding, Olive went to the Ministry, and Myrtle was shunted right back to Hogwarts. Myrtle's resentment only grew.

Olive grew up, she became a nurse at St. Mungo's, she had children. Her children all showed signs of magic, but the thought of Myrtle tormenting her kids didn't sit right with her. Myrtle was trapped in Hogwarts, so Olive came up with a simple solution. None of her descendants were going to the wizarding school that Myrtle was at. They went to Beauxbatons, they went to Durmstrang, but never to Hogwarts.

This cycle continued for two generations, until Mercury Hornby had had enough. He was Olive's great-grandson, and his daughter was reaching the age of schooling. His daughter, Holly Hornby-Wright, was Olive's great-great-granddaughter.

Holly had been obsessed with her two-times-great-grandmother. Holly would sit on her lap for hours, listening to her stories from school, from her life. Anything that came out of Olive's mouth, Holly listened to it with rapt attention. Her ears were filled with stories, her mind full of dreams that she wanted to live out with her Grandma Olive. Her beloved Grandma Olive never said anything about a girl named Myrtle. The name never dropped from her lips.

Olive hadn't wanted to soil Holly's impression of her, hadn't wanted to tarnish the look of idolization shining out of Holly's eyes. She didn't tell Holly many stories about the girls at school, only about classes and boys and Quidditch. Olive wanted her great-great-granddaughter to not know that she had inadvertently helped someone die.

Unfortunately for everyone that knew Olive, the behavior that caused Myrtle to cry in the bathroom was not unique to Olive's school years. Olive was not easy to get along with. She moved from friend group to friend group quickly, not staying with one person for very long. She sent barbs out with her words with every breath. Her smile was always sticky with hidden poison, ready to drop when someone said something wrong.

Everyone always said that it was a miracle that she was able to get someone to tolerate her enough to marry her, long enough to have kids with. When people found out who she was marrying, they were even more shocked. Harbor Sparks, Olive's husband-to-be, was the heartthrob on the covers of all the magazines. Whispers erupted around Olive's work and in gossip tabloids, cameras flashing every time that she left the house.

Harbor Sparks shocked everyone, even more, when he took Olive's last name. It was unprecedented, but Harbor Sparks became Harbor Hornby. There was a baby, then torrid affairs, from both parties, and when Harbor died under mysterious circumstances, who was to say that Olive didn't have something to do with it? Olive inherited Harbor's massive fortune, launching her into a life of luxury.

That fortune was still kicking when Holly was about to be sent off to school. Olive had died the year prior, leaving the majority of what was left to Holly. Olive thought that it would be a blessing, but in reality, it was a curse. Holly's remaining relatives were jealous, vultures leaning down on her. They picked at her, pressuring her, ostracizing a young girl. They wanted her to give it up, but ten-year-old Holly was not backing down. She held on to that money like it was the only thing keeping her alive. It helped her pay for her school expenses when her father was down on his luck, it helped pay for her mother's bills at St. Mungo's.

When Holly went to Hogwarts, she expected it to be a respite from her family. She didn't know how wrong she was.

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"Honey, do you have everything?" Holly's mother said. Her voice frail, the hand that was clutching Holly's smaller one was bony, but she was there. She had specifically scheduled her treatments so that she would be able to make it to her daughter's last day before going off to Hogwarts.

"Yes, mum. You made me triple check my bag, and I can always write to you if I ended up forgetting something." Holly rolled her eyes even as a smile tugged at her lips. Wrapping an arm around her mother's thin shoulders, Holly let her warmth seep into her body. This was the last hug that she was getting from her mother for months, the last time that she would feel safely wrapped in an embrace that felt like home. She lingered in the moment, committing it to her memory.

A train whistle blew, triggering a flurry of movement around the pair. People flowed around them, the sea of bodies parting around her mother's wheelchair. Students lugged heavy trunks into train compartments and mothers wiped away tears with silken handkerchiefs.

"Mum, I've got to go! I love you so much!" Holly called out as she ran to the nearest compartment entrance. She was energetic as she waved to her mother through the window, the smile on her face genuine. A second, even shriller whistle pricked her ears as the train car started to pull away from the station. Her mother grew smaller and smaller until her eyes couldn't pick her out from the blobs of people on the station.

The last glimpse of her mother was bittersweet. She was happy to be at Hogwarts but it was hard to be away from her family. She had never been apart from them longer than a few days. And now they were going to be all the way in France. The Hornby-Wright family resided in the countryside of France, making it easier for Holly's mother to see her family. Mercury had gone to Beauxbatons, where he had met Eliza.

Holly looked at the empty hallway, realizing that most of the other students had already found compartments to sit in for the train ride. She clutched the miniaturized version of the trunk that her father had spelled in one hand, her bag that contained her wand and a couple of galleons in the other, took a deep breath, and started down the hallway.

Each compartment was already full, older students frequenting them and filling them up. Holly kept walking, one foot in front of the other, hoping that she would be able to find a spot. Her mother had told her how important it was to find a friend on her first day. Holly was determined to find that friend.

She thought that she saw an empty compartment, the second to last one of the row, but her hopes were dashed when her eyes focused in on two boys, one with red hair and one with black. A gasp caught in Holly's throat as she looked closer at the boy with shaggy black hair. Her eyes focused in on the lightning bolt scar partly obscured by bangs. It was Harry Potter, the famous boy who lived. Her mother had told her stories about him, how he had saved the Wizarding World.

Holly hovered right out of sight, silently debating if she should go say hello. When the pair broke into laughter, she decided not to. She didn't want to interrupt their friendship, be the odd one out. It had always happened at home, she wanted something different. She wanted to be the first choice. Meeting Harry Potter could wait for another day.

Holly took a deep breath before looking into the window of the last compartment. There sat a singular girl who looked about her age. Her dark hair was pulled into two pigtails, one on either side of her head, and she was staring out the window, her face pressed against the glass. She looked peaceful, and Holly hated to disturb her, but she needed a spot to sit.

Holly knocked hesitantly on the door and the girl snapped her head towards her. "Hello?" Holly's voice was quiet. "Can I sit here?"

The girl's face broke out into a smile. "Of course you can sit here!" she said, patting the cushion of the seat across from her. "I'm Meadow! What's your name?"

"Holly," Holly said as she sat down. She tucked her legs under her, copying the position of Meadow. Well, she attempted to sit like Meadow was. What actually happened was that she tumbled off the seat and fell into a heap on the floor, all gangly arms and legs. It coaxed a giggle out of Holly, and then out of Meadow, and before they knew it both girls were rolling with laughter.

Holly's mother always said that laughter was the best foundation. At that moment, Holly knew that her mother was right. Laughter was the foundation for the best relationship that she would ever have in her life. Nothing would ever compare to the love of a best friend. Meadow was Holly's best friend, Holly was Meadow's best friend, and they made each other laugh. Their foundation was strong, and could not be cracked.

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Holly and Meadow giggled their way through the train ride and stepped into the boats still feeling the high. They were floating on their newfound friendship. On the train ride, Holly had found out that Meadow was a half-blood, that she loved to cook, and that she wanted to be a Gryffindor like her mother. Holly stored all of these facts in her brain, making a mental note to write them down when she had time so she wouldn't forget. Meadow and Holly were the perfect matches for friends. Meadow loved to talk, and Holly preferred to listen. Holly had never had a best friend before.

Meadow's chatter died off as the Hogwarts castle came into view. Holly gasped and her eyes grew wide, mesmerized by the image of the castle. The twinkling lights in the windows were inviting at the same time as the sheer size of it was intimidating. The castle was full of new beginnings and hope.

"It's just as pretty as my mom said that it was," Meadow whispered to herself, watching Hagrid pull them into the shore. The group got out of the boats, Neville got his toad back, and Professor McGonagall welcomed them into the castle.

The moment that things went haywire was an exact second of Holly's life. Her black shoe came down onto the tile of the Great Hall, and immediately a wail was set off. It rang in Holly's ears, undertones of rage pinging off the walls.

A translucent shape came hurtling out of the ceiling, screeching to a halt right in front of Holly. "There is a Hornby at Hogwarts! A Hornby at Hogwarts!" The figure, one of a young girl, was shouting at Holly. Holly shrunk into herself as whispers started to spread throughout the Great Hall.

Myrtle Warren was infamous for holding grudges, and her worst grudge was against Olive Hornby.

Holly Hornby-Wright wanted a fresh start, but what she got was a spoiled first day, an entire school prejudiced against her, and a shower of pain. Her life was walked through a rainstorm, and she could not see the blue sky.

Author's Note:

Prologue of Haunting! I hope that you like it and thank you for reading!