Little is known of the ghosts which reside here within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For some, their pasts have been entirely erased from memory, and all that remains is but a shadow of their former selves. We mortal beings know nothing of death, for it hides its secrets, only unearthing them as we pass beyond after our final moments, yet then, there are still some who fear what lies ahead once we are gone. They are those who choose not to accept their fate. They are those who walk amongst us, yet cannot be one of us, for they are but a mere imprint of life itself upon the Earth.
Books can only tell us so much ere they must be cast aside for one to delve deeper than parchment and ink. And when such an occasion does arise, we must understand that many of our questions shall go unanswered until our own demise. Perhaps we shall find naught but a name, or perhaps no name at all, for there are those who choose to withdraw from the world they chose so hastily not to leave. We must know that the secrets of Death cannot be explained by Life. It is only when life intervenes that one may attempt to understand.
And thus, it is just this that I have done.
Curiosity, I have found, can be quite a bittersweet thing. Oft times, one may find themselves curious as to a particular or peculiar course of events, only to find themselves in a rather nasty situation that one may discover is quite difficult to escape. Yet other times, in our thirst for knowledge, we may stumble upon things that were not meant to be found, thus sparking an unquenchable desire for an explanation of sorts.
I admit, most modestly, that I know and understand a great many things. More things, perhaps, than one person alone should know, and more things than any other man has known before. For it has become my obligation, one could possibly say, to be aware of what that has occurred in the lives of others before our time. Though, it may seem that I am a foolish old man who chooses to meddle and otherwise place his abnormally crooked nose where it does not belong. (My habits have been viewed as such and frowned upon in the past, and I do not deny that they will in days to come.) Yet it is oft times the meddling of others which enlightens one most.
And this, my dear readers, is what brings me to that which I am about to call upon you to do. The reason why I sit at my study, late this evening, and scribe this letter. I invite you to embark upon a mysterious journey to the final moments of the Hogwarts ghosts–and perhaps some others along the way. To relive and shed light upon the past, and to attempt to understand our history. For we oft times ask ourselves, What happened to silence these long-forgotten whispers?