𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 ── harry potter

vi | a party of death

ACT II — CHAPTER VI
A Pᴀʀᴛʏ Oꜰ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ

⊱ ────── 𖥔 ✶ 𖥔 ────── ⊰

October arrived in the blink of an eye. Most of the time, Quinn was focusing on her classes, which felt significantly harder than they had last year. All of them except for Potions, which was never hard for her, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, because that class was a joke.

She enjoyed being back with her friends. Her favorite times were spent wandering the school with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sitting in the common room with the Train Gang, or spending long nights talking with her dorm mates. She especially liked when they would stay in Ravenclaw Tower, because her cat, Phoebe, would always mingle in between her friends.

Kevin would always come back from his Quidditch practices bursting with excitement. He would go through every strategy he had learned, and Roger Davies would come over and warn him to keep his voice down, claiming that anyone could be listening.

Quinn did her best not to think about Maddox Dearborn. She tried not to think about his words or their implications. Although, sometimes, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of him when she passed him in the hallway. And sometimes, she would catch him looking back. She tried not to think about whether or not that could mean something.

On a stormy Saturday afternoon, Quinn found herself in the Gryffindor common room with Ron and Hermione, waiting for Harry to return from his Quidditch practice. When he did, he quickly ran past them, saying, "Let me change, then I've got something to tell you."

Harry told them that he had run into Nearly Headless Nick, Gryffindor House's ghost, who had invited him to his deathday party on Halloween night. He said that he had extended the invitation to Ron and Hermione, and that Quinn could tag along, too.

"A deathday party?" Hermione questioned keenly, "I bet there aren't 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?" Ron said, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy, "Sounds dead depressing to me ..."

"I'm sure you all will have a fun time," Quinn said, looking down at Ron's paper, "You got Number 4 wrong. It's salamander blood, not chameleon blood."

Ron sighed, running his hands through his hair and hastily scratching out his answer.

"What do you mean, 'I'm sure you all will have a good time'? Are you not going?" Hermione asked.

"No, why would I? I'm not a Gryffindor and I don't know Nearly Headless Nick. It wouldn't make sense."

"But he invited you!" Harry argued.

"No, you just told us he said Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome, of course, and that Ravenclaw girl. He doesn't even know my name! I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding, you have to go!" Hermione said.

Quinn sighed, "Fine, I'll go. I guess I'll just ask Morag to bring me some pumpkin pie."

Rain was lashing against the windows, which were an inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander.