Not Again//Harry Potter [2]

10

October —the best month, in Cayden's opinion— finally arrived. The weather was nice and cold, and the Common Room was nice and cozy. Autumn, Hermione, Harry, and Ron all sat near the window at their favorite table. Just previous, they were invited to Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, his party celebrating the day he became a ghost.

"A deathday party?" said Hermione. "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?" said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy. "Sounds dead depressing to me. . ."

Autumn stared at her hands. She wanted to go to Nearly Headless Nick's party, but it would make her miss her parents. She then thought of Harry. If she was upset about going to this deathday party, maybe he was. Autumn looked up to see Harry's expression, but he didn't look like he was paying attention. He was staring at Autumn's left hand, the hand with the gash on the palm of her hand. She carefully slipped her hand into her sleeve and joined the conversation that was at hand.

"I'll go." 

"I'll go too," Harry added. He stared at Autumn unblinking; he knew that Autumn was hiding something -- and he was going to find out.

"Well duh," Ron muttered. "You were the one to tell us about it in the first place. . ."

>>>

By the time Halloween arrived, Autumn hadn't touched her great grandfather's journal -- she'd been to busy with school work to even think about it.

"A promise is a promise," Hermione reminded Harry bossily. "You said you'd go to the deathday party."

Truthfully, Harry had no idea what he signed up for. He just said yes to Nearly Headless Nick because he was tired and didn't want to disappoint him.

At seven o'clock, Harry, Autumn, Ron, and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons.

"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 absurdly beautiful. There were pearly-white ghosts floating amongst the crowd of other translucent people. They contrasted beautifully with the dark background. Autumn hadn't even noticed it was cold until she saw her breath.

"Shall we have a look around?" Harry suggested.

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. 

"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 Autumn.

"She haunts a toilet?"

"Yes. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. It's awful trying to pee with her wailing at you—" Hermione said.

"Look, food!" said Ron.

They walked towards it quickly, but suddenly stopped. It smelled horrid. Everything was rotten. Even the cake which said:

SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON
DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492

A ghost suddenly flew through the cake with it's mouth open.