Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.

Warnings: This will include torture and attempted murder of a minor.

He woke up slowly, as if he was waking up from a long nap. He was freezing, and his body ached like he had been run over by a hippogriff. His head felt like it was trying to split open and a pulsing pain was coming from his side.

A groan left his lips. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, bringing his hands to his temple and rubbing it gently. It didn't do anything to help.

"Merlin," he whispered to himself, "What happened?"

His eyes fluttered open and he realized, suddenly, that he was in the middle of the hall at Hogwarts, laying on the cold concrete floor. The Fat Lady's portrait was nearby, so he must be near the Gryffindor Common Room.

Why in Merlin's name was he near the Gryffindor Common Room?

A shiver ran down his spine.

He pulled himself to his feet, wincing as his head throbbed, and wrapped his arms around himself. He knew that it was the middle of winter but wasn't there supposed to be a charm on the castle to keep it warm?

"Child? Child, are you okay?"

He spun around on his feet. One of the portraits was speaking, an elderly lady with a plate of biscuits in her hand. She wasn't looking at him, though. She was speaking to a crumpled form nearby.

The other person was laying in a pool of blood. They were faced away with him on their side. Their green robes were torn, and their right arm had been carved into. There was some word there, but the blood covered it and made it impossible to see what it was. There was a gash on their head that was bleeding profusely, and a deep stab wound in their side gushed out blood. Their leg was twisted into an impossible position.

He stumbled forward but was suddenly cut off by the sound of a gasp and a shriek of horror.

His head snapped to the side. Freddie and Roxanne had rounded the corner. They were dressed in quidditch practice uniforms, so the team must have just let out. They froze at the sight in front of them, but then Roxanne ran forward…

And right toward Albus.

She didn't slow down as she ran towards him, and he flinched, prepared to have her ram straight into him. But it didn't happen.

She ran through him.

He blinked in surprise and spun around. She fell to her knees beside the crumpled form and shouted at Freddie to find a professor.

"Roxanne?" he called out, voice shaking. He took a few steps forward, "Roxanne, what's going on?"

She didn't respond. Her hands hesitantly reached out to the boy on the ground and rolled him onto his back. A choked cry left her lips and she brought her hands to the boy's side, trying to stop the bleeding.

Something pressed down on his own side.

Albus stepped forward to get a better look. He found himself staring straight into his own face.

"Hey, hey, hey, Al," Roxanne was whispering to Albus' body. She brought a shaking hand up to his neck to feel for a pulse, "Hey, you're okay. You're going to be okay."

He stared at himself, feeling even colder than before. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He shook his head.

"I'm right here," he said, "Roxanne, I'm right here."

She didn't hear him.

His head rolled to the side, skin deathly pale. Albus couldn't see himself breathing.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting in the library and studying for Transfiguration. He'd been angry with James over his brother's latest prank. Now he was here.

Now he was… dead?

He stared at the scene, watching as Roxanne began administering CPR. He didn't even know that she knew how to do that.

A few more people arrived. Someone screamed. Another person fainted. A crowd began to grow around them.

Someone pushed through the crowd. Neville moved towards them quickly, Freddie right behind him.

"What happened?" Neville demanded. He felt to his knees beside them, pulling out his wand and muttering a spell softly under his breath. Albus felt a tingling sensation throughout his body.

"I don't know," Roxanne answered. There were tears streaming down her cheeks now, "I was coming back from practice and saw him. His pulse is weak, and he isn't breathing. I tried CPR, but it isn't working."

Neville nodded. His expression was hard and focused. He bent down and listened for breathing, and when he didn't find one, he turned his head back to Roxanne.

"Hold his head in place."

Roxanne obeyed. She placed her hands on either side of his head, and Albus could feel the pressure. Neville waved his wand over his throat and muttered softly under his breath.

"Spiritus vitae."

Albus felt cool air suddenly rush into his lungs not of his own accord. On the ground, his body's mouth opened, and his chest began to move up and down.

"He's breathing," Roxanne said.

"Not on his own. The spell is making him breath. He needs medical treatment now. I'm going to stabilize his body and levitate him to the hospital wing. You go alert the Headmistress."

Roxanne nodded and bolted down hall.

Albus felt a spell run over him. It tingled down him and he felt suddenly stiff, but he was still able to move. On the ground, however, his body had been spelled completely still.

Neville waved his wand and suddenly he was floating in the air.

The Head Boy and Head Girl had arrived. They ushered people out of the way as Neville walking quickly away from the scene, the body floating in front of him.

Suddenly, when Neville had walked about five meters, Albus felt himself jerk forward until he was standing beside his body again.

"What the-"

Neville moved quickly, and pretty soon he was about five meters away again, and Albus was jerked back towards them by some unseen force.

"Okay, okay."

He jogged beside Neville to keep up with him.

They arrived at the hospital wing quickly. Madame Oswald was already ready for them. Freddie was nearby, pale and quiet. He must have run ahead of them to alert her.

"He isn't breathing on his own," Neville started speaking the moment the door opened, "I cast the breathing spell on him. He hit his head pretty hard and has been stabbed in the side. I'm pretty sure his leg is broken, too. There is bruising on the neck indicative of strangulation. Lots of blood loss."

"Put him on the bed," Madame Oswald ordered, juggling several vials of potions in her hands. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight black bun.

His body was lowered onto the nearest bed. Her wand ran over it slowly and Albus squirmed at the awkward feeling.

"This doesn't make any sense," he whispered, shaking his head, "I'm not dead."

If he wasn't dead, why was he a… ghost? Was he even a ghost?

"Go alert the aurors," Madame Oswald said, "Someone tried to kill him, and they're probably still in the castle."

Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed! More information will be answered next chapter! Leave a review and let me know what you thought about it.