Harry Potter And The Forger Of Worlds 70 Death Day Party

"I see no reason to explain myself. Just be lucky the insects are still alive. They insulted someone dear to me with me being present and I dealt with it. If it happens again it will be their corpse that you will be collecting." Nova said and walked off.

After that incident everything grew quiet and the seasons began to change. October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire.

Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened, which was why Harry was to be found, late one stormy Sat.u.r.day afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

It was one of these muddy days that Nova found himself, curled up on the fire in the common room as a small dragon. He was trying to sleep but kept hearing a small complaint. Nova then looked up and swung his head out of the fireplace and found Nearly Headless Nick looking out the window.

Giving a sigh, Nova walked out of the fire and became human once more, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, ". . . don't fulfill their requirements . . . half an inch, if that . . ."

"Good Evening Nick. You seem to be having a problem." Nova said.

"h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo," said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking round. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance. . . . It's not as though I really wanted to join. . . . Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements' -" In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"I mean, n.o.body wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However -" Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously: "'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to partic.i.p.ate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away, and Nova could only shake his head.

"Sigh. . . Nick I do owe you a favor. I could possibly remove your head for you." Nova said.

"Really! You could do that. That would be fantastic Nova." Nick said excitedly.

"Indeed I could. But is that what you really want?" Nova asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I mean, you are a rare existence. How many Nearly Headless Ghosts are there. And on top of that, you are the only ghost that has ever been the Ghost of Gryffindor Tower. And from the sound of that letter, if you joined that group you would have to leave Hogwarts and the students of the future would never hear of the greatness that is Nearly Headless Nick. They would only hear of Headless Nick subordinate of whatever the group was. Is that what you really want?

Hearing Nova, Nick just thought for a few minutes staying silent and floating around in mid air with his wobbling head.

"Indeed! You are correct Nova. Why should I taint my greatness and my post to join these pompous p.r.i.c.ks." Nick exclaimed. "But if you are still keen to repay that favor. This Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.

"I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honor if you would attend."

"That is indeed impressive Nick. You know what I wouldn't mind attending. And I think you should invite the famous Harry Potter and his friend Ron Weasley. More than likely Hermione Granger will arrive as well to accompany me."

"Fantastic, fantastic!" Nick exclaimed. "I will go inform Mr. Potter of the event." And with that Nick flew off to locate Harry.

"Finally I can get back to a nap. Though the party does sound interesting." Nova said as he turned back into a dragon and reheated the fireplace.

A few weeks later it was time for the party. Nova was heading to the dungeons, accompanied by curious Hermione with a hesitant Harry and grumbling Ron.

The pa.s.sageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took. As Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him, Nova heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails sc.r.a.ping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered. They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome . . . so pleased you could come. . . ."

He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside. It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

"Shall we have a look around?" Harry suggested, wanting to warm up his feet.

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They pa.s.sed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Nova wasn't surprised to see that the b.l.o.o.d.y Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.

"Oh, no," said Hermione, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle -"

"Who?" said Harry as they backtracked quickly.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," said Hermione.

"She haunts a toilet?"

"Yes. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you -"

"Look, food!" said Ron. Nova just rolled his eyes. He didn't in fact think this food was going to be edible. And he was right.

On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but the next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in fuzzy green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy- Porpington died 31st October, 1492 Harry watched, amazed, as a portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it pa.s.sed through one of the stinking salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk though it?" Harry asked him.

"Almost," said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away.

Nova could only sigh.

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.

"Can we move? I feel sick," said Ron.

They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them.

"h.e.l.lo, Peeves," said Harry cautiously.

Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the Poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No thanks," said Hermione.

"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing. "Rude you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OY! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically. "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her - er, h.e.l.lo, Myrtle."

The squat ghost of a girl had glided over. She had the glummest face Harry had ever seen, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles.

"What?" she said sulkily.

"How are you, Myrtle?" said Hermione in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

Myrtle sniffed.

"Miss Granger was just talking about you -" said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear.

"Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight," said Hermione, glaring at Peeves.

Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously.

"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.

"No - honestly - didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron painfully in the ribs.

"Oh, yeah -"

"She did -"

"Don't lie to me," Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder. "D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!"

"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves hissed in her ear.

Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon.

Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, "Pimply!"

Nova just ignored the idiots.

"Good Evening Nova." a soft voice called to him.

"Good Evening Helena. I see that you have called down some." Nova said. "You look stunning tonight."

For indeed she did. Helena wore a dress similar to what one would wear on the Day of the Dead Festival, but instead of the color it was a black and white with some greys mixed in.

"I appreciate the praise. I would indeed like to drag you away and start to make children. But many people I have known for years are here and I wish to conduct myself properly. And my mother did teach me some proper edicate for parties." Helen explained. Hermione gave a small huff but no one really seemed to notice it as the next thing that was heard was Harry and Ron getting pulled away by their ears with Hermione dragging them away while scolding them both on how it was rude to stare at a woman's chest like they were doing. Seeing them being disciplined like they were Nova had a small smirk on his face.

"Lady Ravenclaw. Could I accompany you for a dance?" Nova asked.

"It would be a pleasure to accompany you Lord Nova." Helena courtisied to Nova. Nova then shaped his scales to appear as the suit he wore during Christmas and then took Helena's hand and began to waltz mid air with her as they joined the dancing ghost.

But as they got into the swing of things, so to speak, the orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The a.s.sembly clapped wildly; Harry started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nick's face.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn.

The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?" He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter)

Nova let out a yawn.

"Will you clown's shut up. Nick has a speech he would like to give" Nova said.

But n.o.body heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

Seeing that he was being ignored, Nova released a bit of pressure. He did not like being ignored. Feeling the pressure, all the ghost including the hunt froze.

"Good now that everyone is silent, Nick has a speech he would like to give." Nova said calmly.

"I am dead. I don't want to die from another boring speech the last one took my head." A headless ghost said, and started to laugh.
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"I see then you can be erased for being inconsiderate." Nova said. He then waved his hand and the headless ghost and his horse burst into ghostly flames and vanished all in a split second.

"Anyone else?" Nova asked. Not another ghost said a word, Nova had just scared them all to death and the atmosphere turned even colder.

"Nick you can proceed." Nova told Nick.

Nick gave a small gulp and began his speech from the beginning, ""My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow . . ." Nova felt it was a good speech. Nick gave out his points clearly and even incorporated how honored he was to be the Gryffindor Ghost for his 500th year.

When the speech was over, Nick thanked everyone for attending and hoped they could continue enjoying the celebration. But after hearing the speech was over, the guest all disappeared and ran off terrified of Nova and what he did to the Headless Horseman earlier.

"Well Nick it was a good party. Where are Harry, Ron and Hermione?" Nova asked.

"Those three left a while ago. I don't believe they could handle the atmosphere anymore." Nick said.

"Well it was a good speech regardless." Helena said.

"I must get going now Nick. Have a good evening." Nova said. He then led Helena out of the Dungeons. As they came up to the main hall they found the pa.s.sage blocked.

"What is going on?" Nova asked a Hufflepuff boy.

"Don't know. I think they said someone killed Filch's cat." The boy responded.

"Huh. Oh well. Helena, my dear lets find another way around." Nova said. Helena just nodded, not really listening since she was off in her own little world. And with how she was drooling Nova just a.s.sumed she was enjoying fantasy land.

Nova then went down the entrance hall and went through the Library to the pa.s.sage that led to Ravenclaw tower but instead of taking the right he took the left and appeared in the Gryffindor Fireplace.

When they had arrived, Nova undid the dress robe transformation and sat down on the couch in the corner and slowly drifted to sleep and since Helena didn't feel like leaving, she too, just curled up next to Nova.

It wasn't until early the next morning, did anyone have a problem with this. And by anyone he meant Hermione and McGonagall. Hermione since she didn't see Nova return from the party and then this morning she woke up to study and first thing she saw was Helena sleeping on top of Nova. Which she was quite jealous, no she means, quite shameful of Helena to just sleep on top of Nova.

And McGonagall, who not long after Hermione came down, bust through the portrait entrance with wand drawn ready to fight.

"Helena! What are you doing?" McGonagall yelled.

Helena, who had actually been up for sometime but refused to get up, said, "Sleeping." And proceeded to hug Nova even more.

As for Nova, well lets just say he wasn't sleeping either and was just laying there. Something from last night was bothering him. But he couldn't place it on his tongue. It might have had something to do with the cat being killed but he wasn't sure.

"Helena! You can't just be sleeping with a man your not married to. Much less a man that is already married." McGonagall said.

"You tell her Professor McGonagall." Hermione said. But know one acknowledge her.

"It's fine Professor McGonagall. If Nova had an issue with it, he would have said something. Plus I am not sleeping, I am cuddling."

Professor McGonagall's eye just twitched behind her gla.s.ses. Never in all her life at this school did she have to deal with such trouble. In her own House even.

"And besides, Professor. The one you need to watch for is Hermione. She has a soul fragment in her. Nova may just eat her up as well." Hearing this Hermione just blushed.

Hearing this Nova just sighed, he then stood up and stretched.

"That is not going to happen." Nova said. Hermione then just had a look of devastation on her face. "Besides, Hermione is too young, I would have to wait a few years more to begin with."

"Thats enough!" McGonagall exclaimed. "First the issue with Filch's cat being petrified and now this. You! Come with me you are banned from this tower." McGonagall waved her wand and Helena was cast out of the Tower to somewhere else, "And you, Nova better not do anything inappropriate with any minors. Only people that are mature."

Nova at this point chose to ignore everything that was being said, the only thing that was of relevance to him was that Filch's cat was petrified and not killed.