Gaunt ~ Book 2

Sixteen~Gaunt

a/n: Same reminder as usual, I'm combining J.K. Rowling's work with my own. Hope you enjoy!

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 afterwards. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring out from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her 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. But, despite the weather, Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, was as enthusiastic as ever about winning the Quidditch cup.

After one practice, Marvolo met a quite drenched and muddy Harry in the entry hall.

"Hopefully Oliver doesn't make us practice on Halloween," Harry sighed as he headed for the stairs. "Fred and George said the Slytherin team's brooms are really fast."

"You'll probably beat us," Marvolo reassured him. "Malfoy is a terrible seeker."

Harry laughed.

"Try not to score on us too much though,"

Marvolo followed Harry up the stairs.

"Are you coming with me?" Harry asked.

"You look like you need some company," said Marvolo. "Don't worry, I don't want to know any Gryffindor Quidditch tactics."

Harry grinned and led the way. At the end of a hallway 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, Nick," said Harry.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking around. 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 Marvolo could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain.

"It's nice to see you, young Potter," said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.

"You seem troubled, Nick," said Harry. "Are you all right?"

"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 out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt ax would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Oh — yes," said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree.

"I mean, nobody 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 from a great deal of pain and ridicule. However —" Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously"

"'We only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company from their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate 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.

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry! Most people would think that's good and beheaded. But oh. No, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."

Nearly Headless Nick took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, "So — what's bothering you? Anything I can do?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but a high-pitched mewling stopped him. Marvolo looked down and found himself staring into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs. Norris, the skeletal grey cat who was used by the caretaker, Argus Filch, as a sort of deputy in his endless battle against students.

"You'd better get out of here," said Nick quickly. "Filch isn't in a good mood — he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place —"

"Right," said Harry, stepping back.

Marvolo turned and slipped down the stairs, trying not to make a sound. He only stopped, covered in shadow, when he heard Filch's voice at the top of the stairs.

"Filth! Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter!"

Marvolo listened to them walk away, praying Filch wouldn't do anything bad to Harry.

The next day, Harry told Marvolo, Ron, and Hermione what had happened. Nearly Headless Nick had convinced Peeves to drop a cabinet right above Filch's office and let Harry go. He had found Nick and had been invited to his death day party.

"A death day party?" said Hermione keenly when Harry brought it up during a particularly loud charms lesson. "I doubt there are many living people who can say they've been to one of those — it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Ron, who was struggling with the spell Professor Flitwick had given them — Expeliarmus - and grumpy. "Sounds depressing to me. . . ."

Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside looked bright and cheerful. The great hall was warm, with its fires and floating candles, and the food was delicious. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Marvolo parted ways at the entrance and slid into seats at different tables. As soon as Marvolo sat down, Malfoy besieged him.

"Are you excited for Halloween?" he demanded. "I hear they're going to change the candles to bats soon!"

"I wonder what they're going to serve for food," said Blaise Zabini. "Hopefully there aren't any interruptions like last year."

Marvolo smiled, remembering Professor Quirrell, the old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, running into the Great Hall yelling that there was a troll in the dungeons.

"I hear the Slytherin's are going to throw a party after the feast in the common room," said Pansy Parkinson. "Are you excited, Draco?"

Malfoy nodded, heaping mash potatoes onto his plate.