“Hello, young one.” Sakura greets the young boy, who is staring at her intently, curiosity shining in his eyes. The boy, a Gryffindor student, seems to be no older than twelve, with a long, straight nose and brilliantly bright eyes. Those eyes, brimming with excitement and eagerness, remind her so much of Naruto’s. For a moment, a pang of sadness engulfs her, but Sakura is quick to recompose herself. She looks at the young wizard. Perhaps he is a first-year student. “Are you lost?”
“No,” the boy shakes his head. “I was actually searching for you. I heard there’s a ghost with rose-coloured hair in Hogwarts, Lady Rose, they say, who seldom appears in front of students. I wanted to see for myself, so, uh, I tried to find you.”
“Well, here I am,” Sakura smiles weakly. Of course it is her hair colour that always attracts the attention of young, inquisitive students, but seriously, Lady Rose? What sort of a silly nickname is that?
“How did you find me here?” Sakura asks in mild curiosity. Nowadays Sakura seldom roam the corridors and staircases of Hogwarts Castle, preferring the quiet, unoccupied towers instead. She does not mind the students’ comments on her unusual hair colour, or the speculations of possible Veela heritage, but she has little patience when it comes to questions about how she died, how come she died so young, and was she murdered in cold blood? Sakura knows that she needs time, a lot of time, for the bleeding, gaping wound in her heart to close, and the students of Hogwarts are definitely not helping with the healing process.
“Well,” the boy brightens at her question. “From what I gathered, it seems that only a handful of students have stumbled upon you in corridors and staircases for the past few years. I tried searching for you in the dungeons, but I just ended up pissing off a bunch of Slytherins and the Bloody Baron. So I, uh, asked the other ghosts about your whereabouts. Sir Nicholas kindly invited me to his next Deathday Party—said that you never missed out on his Deathday Parties, but that’s like, ages away. The Fat Friar told me you preferred places that offer ‘peace and quiet’, and The Grey Lady mentioned seeing you a few times at the Gryffindor Tower—The deserted one. I figured you must be spending quite an awful lot of time in the towers, especially the deserted ones or say, the Clock Tower, where you won't get disturbed easily.”
“I see you have the wits of Merlin,” the young wizard blinks in surprise, then blushes at her compliment. “Congratulations on finding me, but now that you have succeeded in your quest of locating me, I would like to have my ‘peace and quiet’ back, thank you very much. Off you go. Time to plan your next adventure with your friends.”
A look of unease flashes across the young Gryffindor’s face, the twinkle in his eyes fading away and the blush dying down. Suddenly an image of young, lonely Naruto, sitting on the academy swings and glancing dejectedly at his academy classmates, flashes across her mind; a memory of genin Naruto, bouncing up to her, asking for a date, only to deflate in disappointment by her cruel rejection, tugs at her heartstrings. Sakura sighs. Damn this boy and his uncanny resemblance to her teammate. Damn her and her soft heart.
“Well,” Sakura coughs, racking her brains for words of comfort. “I suppose I’m a bit behind when it comes to the latest gossips in Hogwarts. Mind filling me in, young one?”
The boy’s face lights up like an illuminating spell. The blinding delight in his eyes is almost too much for Sakura. “Sure! I mean, uh, yes, of course."
The young wizard beams at her. “Nice to meet you, Lady Rose. I’m Albus. Albus Dumbledore.”