Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling
He hated ghosts…
From his earliest days at Hogwarts they'd provided nothing but annoyances; popping in and out of walls, startling him into spilling his potions and interfering with his carefully practiced spells.
They reminded him...
He'd frown; complain to his housemates of their distasteful presence, their whimsical nonsense, desperately trying to ignore the terror they unknowingly invoked.
Alone in the midnight hours, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, he poured over the ancient books and scrolls, searching, while their pale faces watched him intently.
Must someday die.
He smiled a snake-like smile, hungrily ripping the pages from the ancient text, oblivious to the envious, mournful gazes that watched him leave.