Michael frow had a brief furrow to it. "Yeah. I expect he did die here if his ghost is bound here." He shrugged, "You could always ask Binns if it's alright. But I suspect you'll get that same dull, quasi-aristocratic deadness you get whenever you ask a question. It's like talking to a ghost."
Michael's snicker resounded after Justin admitted that he watched the staircases move. "That was you? Merlin. I must've saw you a hundred times and the light was never quite right." To the rest, Michael nodded. "Yeah there's probably loads. From builder's marks and masonry measures to..." he lopsided a smile and shrug, "Hell, even ancient graffiti. Dirty love notes and hook up lines from a thousand years of history. All of it here," he patted at the stone walls. "Lonely graveyard-shift mason seeks passable-for-a-woman wench, teeth optional." His nose wrinkled.
Michael shook his head and pat Justin's back, "Secrets safe here. Just keep it on the downlow. At least say something clever when you're look at the door frame. What you say about it... haven't the foggiest, but try."
The fresh air of night wafted over them and Michael watched as the bridge at first loomed and then encompassed them. Their steps grew hollow on wood as they had a thousand times before, whenever either of them had made this journey. "Can't walk, can't ride a broom... passable runner or equestrian." Michael raised an eyebrow and fought the impishness, his eyes locked onto Justin and he teased, "So... That must make you one hell of a good shag then?"
Michael play-swiped at the fingers with an, "Oy," missed and pointed a single finger at Justin's large nose, "If I were a knight, I'd be lopping that little bitch off right now." Michael sighed happily and looked up. "Nice night."