Chapter Text
“You’re joking,” said Harry, flatly.
“Actually, I’m very serious,” said Sam, without even the slightest flicker of her expression to contradict her words. Harry gaped.
“You’re telling me that ghosts are in fact real, and that the Home Office is not only aware of this fact but actively engaged in a conspiracy to cover it up?”
“That’s about the long and the short of it, yes.”
“And the entire forensic pathology profession is in on it?”
“Correct,” said Sam. Harry looked from her to Leo, back again, and then settled his gaze on Leo, narrowing his eyes in a frown.
“This is some sort of ridiculous hazing, isn’t it?” he said. Leo was usually easier to read than Sam, but even his face was completely devoid of even a twitch of repressed amusement. Leo shook his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “If it makes you feel any better, genuine, testable ghost sightings are very rare. You’ll probably only encounter half a dozen a year, even working in a city as big as this.” Sam made a noise, tilting her head and waggling her hand.
“Ten to twelve,” she said.
“Really?” asked Leo, turning to her with genuine interest. “I didn’t realise it was that much more common here.”
“London is something of a special case,” said Sam. “You’re right that one or two every few months about what you’d expect for ghosts connected to present day deaths, but the city is so big that a lot of ghosts don’t get identified right away. I’ve gotten a handful of calls since I moved here asking me to look into sightings connected to much older cases. There’s been more than a few bodies that were only discovered because the ghost finally got noticed.”
“That’s fascinating,” said Leo. “Remind me to look up those case files when I’ve got a minute.”
“I will,” said Sam. “There’s a particularly interesting one that-”
“Hang on a minute!” interrupted Harry, whose brain had finally finished rebooting and realised that the conversation was getting away without him. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you?” Both Sam and Leo nodded, and there were similar looks of amused but sympathetic understanding on their faces.
“I’m afraid so,” said Sam.
“Welcome to the big leagues,” said Leo, reaching over and clapping Harry on the side of his shoulder. “Bet you thought studying for those last few exams was going to be the most brain-melting part of your month.” Harry shook his head incredulously, then laughed slightly.
“I can honestly say that this was the last thing I was expecting to hear when you both called me in here. In fact, it wasn’t even the last thing, because that would imply it was even on the list of possibilities.” Leo chuckled, and Sam started to smile.
“I told you this field never gets boring,” said Sam. “There’s always something new to learn. Although, I can promise you that most of the rest of it is a lot less worldview-shattering.”
“Oh, well, now I’m disappointed,” deadpanned Harry, and they all laughed. Then Leo clapped his hands together.
“Right!” he said. “It’s tradition to spring that one on people as soon as they’re qualified to register with the Home Office, but you know what else is a tradition?” Harry shook his head. “Taking them to the pub afterwards. Now come on, the beer’s on me tonight.” Harry grinned.
“Now you’re talking,” he said. Leo returned the grin and then turned to Sam.
“Are you in, Sam?” he asked. She smiled.
“Oh, all right. Just as long as beer isn’t the only thing you’re willing to pay for.”
“Ha! We can negotiate that one when we get to the pub. Your drinking preferences and my budget don’t always agree…”
As Sam and Leo went in search of their coats, continuing to banter back and forth, Harry took a moment to surreptitiously pinch himself on the arm. It hurt, and he didn’t suddenly find himself snapping out of a very peculiar daydream, so he was forced to admit that yes, that conversation had indeed just happened.
Ghosts were real. Who’d have thought. And not only were they real, they were apparently something he’d be expected to deal with on, if not a regular basis, then at least an infrequent recurring one. He took a deep breath, huffed it out through his nose in an amused half-snort, and shrugged. At least there was literature. It seemed like he wasn’t done studying by a long shot.
But that was a problem for tomorrow. Or preferably the day after, when he might not still be nursing a hangover. At any rate, it wasn’t a problem for tonight. Tonight was for going to the pub. He followed the other two out of Sam’s office, and started mentally workshopping the best ‘spirits’ pun to drop into their debate about which pub they should go to. He had four ready to go before they were even out of the department.