𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞¹⁻⁷ [HARRY POTTER X Y/N]

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗇: 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋, 𝖻𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾

"don't be ridiculous, ron. y/n didn't do this"

𝙀𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙧, 𝘽𝙚𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙚 | 𝖳𝖤𝖭
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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 Y/n and Harry were returning to the Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween.

Even aside from the rain and wind it hadn't been a happy practice session. Fred and George, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of those new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones.

They reported that the Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles.

"Honestly, Oliver needs to tone it down at notch," complained Y/n, feeling her knees fail.

"Hope we end up winning this match coming up, or we won't hear the end of it," said Harry, sighing.

They suddenly came to a halt when they came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as they were. Nearly Headless Nick, 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 . . ."

"Hello," said Y/n and Harry.

"Hello, hello," 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.

He was pale as smoke, and Y/n could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.

"You two look troubled, young Gryffindors," said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.