After the pitiful display that was seen outside just moments ago, Hermione rushed into the halls of Hogwarts to find Y/N.

She only knew one place that he'd go to in this situation, a place of calm and warmth. The Gryffindor common rooms.

It was the place that Y/N stayed in the most, apart from the library or great hall. He felt warm there, safe. A place for him to reside and protect him from whatever dark memories or nightmares troubled him inside. But today was a very different reason.

He felt terrible, like a part of his heart had been ripped out. He felt lost and quite frankly... afraid but he would never admit that. His grandfather meant a lot to him, far more than anyone in the world.

The man practically raised him more than his own father which is why it hurt so much, it was like losing a father in his own way. Truth was,
Y/N didn't know what to do, his mind wandered, searching for anything of
resolution to his living nightmare that he couldn't awake from...

Hermione practically ran all the way there without stopping once, shoving past students and almost tumbling into Hagrid, his giant form blocking access. Though, she finally made it to the common rooms and what she saw both warmed her heart and broke it into pieces.

Y/N had his guitar in his hands, they were trembling from the touch. His eyes tightened shut, stopping any tears from falling.

Hermione stood leaning against the door frame as she watched her friend prepare what she guessed would be a song.

You must've a been in a
Place so dark, couldn't feel the light
Reachin' for you through
That stormy cloud
Now here we are
Gathered in our little hometown
This can't be the way
You meant to draw a crowd

That voice, it was beautiful to her. It sounded sweet like honey and glimmering like an
angel sent from the heavens. Hermione would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy his golden voice, it appealed her, more than she could ever express in words.

Oh why, that's what I keep askin'
Was there anything I could have
Said or done
Oh I, had no clue you were
Masking
A troubled soul, God only knows
What went wrong, and why
You'd leave the stage
In the middle of a song...

Hermione could see the emotions on his face, how his lips would tug into a small smile, the way his cheeks flustered. He was holding back tears, that much she knew.

Y/N was a strong individual, the strongest she's ever met but if she truly knew what was dormant in both his mind and heart then it would probably sadden her to the core.

Now in my mind I keep you frozen
As a seventeen-year-old
Roundin' third to score
That winning run
You always played with passion
No matter what the game
When you took the stage
You shined just like the sun

Oh why, that's what I keep askin'
Was there anything I could have
Said or done
Oh I, had no clue you were
Masking
A troubled soul, God only knows
What went wrong, and why
You'd leave the stage
In the middle of a song

True enough though, Y/N wanted to break down, he wanted to cry to the world but if he did start crying then he would never stop. The tears would never cease to flow, only if somebody else could hamper them, slow them down so that then he would have the power himself to do such.

Now the oak trees are swayin'
In the early autumn breeze
A golden sun is shining on my face
Through tangled thoughts
I hear a mockingbird sing
This old world really ain't that
Bad of a place

Hermione got closer to him, it wasn't surprising that he didn't notice her presence. He was too lost in the sounds of music and thoughts plaguing his mind as the song cried out to him, to even hear her footsteps... but her voice proved otherwise.

"Oh why there's no comprehending
And who am I to try to
Judge or explain
Oh, but I do have one
Burning question
Who told you life wasn't
Worth the fight?

She whispered them at first, but as she neared she raised her voice louder. The lyrics to the song that she knew, it caused Y/N to immediately open his eyes and fast, his gaze snapping onto that of Hermione's, his fingers still stuck to the strings.

As the song progressed, his emotions got the better of him, slow tears began to fall down his cheeks. Hermione walked over, slowly at first quickened as she reached and sat down besides the boy. His eyes still wide open, observing the girl before him. Y/N continued the song, his fingers drumming against the guitar strings.

They both sang it together, his deeper and her sweeter voice matching the rhythms as the song continued in a wave of pure bliss.

They were wrong, they lied
And now you're gone and we cried
Cause It's not like you to
Walk away
In the middle of a song

Your beautiful song
Your absolutely beautiful song...

The song soon ended as Y/N took his hands off the guitar and laid it against a nearby bed which seemed to belong to Ron.

He took a deep breath and exhaled softly, rubbing his eyes free of tears. He turned over to his right and saw Hermione sat next to him, shoulders almost touching.

Her expression was hard to read, anyone would think it was neutral but Y/N saw it as a sign that she was in deep thought. So he decided to break it.

"I've never felt so devastated." Y/N whispered, his gaze looking at the floor, his hands placed atop his lap. "Just when I thought my life couldn't get any worse, it undoubtedly does." He chuckled, but not that of amusement but rather bitterness, Hermione didn't say a word, she just listened to what he had to say and Y/N was alright with that.

"The first time I remember my dad leaving..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes shut, before opening them moments later. "I told myself that he would be back, and of course he came back like I expected." Hermione sat there, her eyes pinned on him. "And then he left again, and again and again.... Then after the seventh time I began to ask myself, "Is it my fault? Am I reason that he keeps leaving me behind to suffer my own thoughts?"

The bitterness in his tone of voice had not left him yet, the ire still strong. "After that time I stopped asking him when he would return, I just decided to accept that it was normal, that he had his job, his own life. And I accepted that." Y/N turned to face Hermione, nodding at her slowly as if trying to get a reaction from her. It was the first time for Hermione that she heard this, she had no idea previously.

"Then I learned about the magic world and what my father did for a living and then the bad thoughts came back, the questions that plagued my daily life." The bitterness left, and all that remained was pain, pain and terrible heartache. "I told myself, "there's no way that it took him so much time away from me to file out reports, to conduct whatever the ministry had him doing." But what did I know? I was just "The boy who had no one." So what? What was wrong with spending months away from your son, coming back, and then another time somewhere else..." His eyes turned back down, staring at the carpet beneath him.

"Then I met my grandparents for the first time, I was seven. I was over joyed, some real family to relate with, to connect with and to share my every thoughts with and so then I never felt so out of touched as I was before, but still... somewhere in the back of my mind those thoughts still kept coming, waiting for me to stumble and fall into vulnerability again."

Hermione had no idea what to say, she was rendered speechless. She couldn't believe someone could abandon their own flesh and blood for so long, especially one with hardly anyone to consider them.

"My grandfather was the only one who could listen to me. To hear my every inquiry and every terrible plight. It was then, at that moment that I knew... that just maybe, just maybe... that I'd be okay. And now, a part of that is gone, disconnected and cut off, like someone just ripped away a part of my heart and left it bleeding out." It hurt to talk about, no doubt about it. But at the same time, he felt relieved that he could unwind, just like he previously did with his grandfather, that Hermione was there to listen to his plea instead.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/N." Hermione whispered, her own emotions threatening to spill. She had no idea he felt such a way, a part of her wished she had found out sooner, that maybe she could've found a way to help him. Her heart ached just as much as his at the thought of him suffering.

"I believe you." He whispered back, just as quiet as her, their eyes connecting for just a few seconds before averting.

Y/N nodded to himself, feeling the light return to his heart as he breathed in slowly. "Well..." he took a deep breath before chuckling sadly. "I did it." The boy who moments ago was pouring his heart out, decided to joke... like always.

"Did what?" Hermione asked as she turned her head his way, with a gaze of curiosity.

"I got you to sing." He sadly chuckled again, trying to find a way to calm his saddened state which would prove to be difficult, for him anyway.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the joke and smacked him slightly on the shoulder, her own giggles leaving her lips.

"And it wasn't half bad." Y/N complimented her, making her blush a deep shade of red and a shy look, averting her eyes from his gaze.

"Thank you." Hermione mumbled, her gaze currently on the windowsill to her right, as she felt her face heating up.

They remained silent for awhile, it wasn't an awkward silence but rather one of comfort.

"Looks like the holiday is cancelled." Y/N said sorrowful, his eyes moving to Hermione.

"I can still go with you, you know, for support." Hermione said all at once, her shy look visible for Y/N.

"You'd do that?" Y/N questioned, shocked that someone would even take their time out of their lives for another's grieving.

"Of course, I can't let you face it alone." Hermione told him, flashing him a sweet smile... the one that so ever enchanted him.

"Thank you, 'Mione." Y/N flashed his own smile towards her, the two sat alone in silence once again, unsure as to what to say. Until Hermione finally broke it.

"I'm sorry about your grandfather." Hermione said, a sad but sympathetic smile on her face.

"Me too." Y/N replied sombrely as he closed his eyes shut.

After the emotional they had, the two of them decided to head down to the library. Y/N insisted, he had to keep his mind busy so he couldn't think about the tragedy that
slowly haunted him.

—

The next few days went by fairly quick. Y/N kept himself busy with classes and homework, plus extra study times in which he enjoyed with Hermione.

Harry and Ron however were dreading their Saturday night detention in which Ron would be cleaning the many trophies which wasn't much by Y/N's opinion.

However he really sympathised with Harry, the boy had fan mail time with Lockhart which was the true meaning of punishment. He couldn't even think of answering his own fan mail, never mind Lockhart's. 

Speaking of fan mail. Ronnie Langford decided to make his own "Y/N L/N Music Club." be a place to make fan letters and such... and sure enough the next morning Y/N had received dozens and dozens of letters from students and even a teacher or two which baffled him.

He started ripping them open as Hermione just watched in amusement, her eyebrow raised at every grunt and groan the boy did, whenever he got some weird letters of love or...  never mind.

The day went by slowly as Y/N kept getting bombarded with letters and parcels from fans and it got so much that he decided to hide out in the Astronomy Tower but got caught by Professor McGonagall as she went to visit one of the teachers.

How Y/N managed to get through the day would be anyone's guess but he finally made his way to the great hall for dinner. Harry and Ron had already gone for their detention as
Y/N and Hermione were tugging into their food.

Time passed by very quickly as the two ate away at the food on their plate. All the food was great but what happened next washed away all that pleasure.

A screeching pain pulsed through the back of Y/N's neck as he clutched it out of instinct. It felt like the same from the last year, the boiling sensation that ripped through his mind like shredding through the bales of hay.

Hermione noticed his distress and moved to his side, examining him over.

"Are you alright?" She asked in concern, her face showing a little bit of fear.

Suddenly Y/N heard a similar shriek of his own, it was coming from outside the great hall. It's like it was guiding him there. He stood up abruptly as Hermione soon followed him out.

"Y/N, where are you going." She asked as they continued on along through the corridors.

"I can hear something, it sounds like something is pointing me in the direction. I can't really explain it." He walked on but soon the pain resided, it stopped immediately.

Y/N frozed, he stood still looking around with a confused gaze.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, an uncertain expression on her face as she watched her friend.

"It stopped." Y/N said, his voice filled with confusion as he searched around frantically.

"What stopped?" She questioned again, showing doubts as to what Y/N was looking for.

"I'm not crazy! I know what I heard!" Y/N snapped at her, his eyes turned darker, all traces of hazel now cold harden amber, and an angry frown found its way to his features but immediately softened as the sight of fear in her eyes.

"Sorry, 'Mione." Y/N apologised quietly while placing his hands on her shoulders. His eyes turning back to it original colours. She in turn grabbed ahold of his, rubbing circles back and fourth thus sending out sparks between the two, weirdly, they both relaxed at each other's touch.

"It's okay." She whispered back, a reassuring smile gracing her lips, her eyes homing into
Y/N's own hazel ones.

"Let's just head back to the dorms." Y/N shrugged off, averting his gaze away from her, sighing deeply. Unknown to Hermione though, a small flicker of a blush had crept up to his neck and further.

They both set off and arrived at the dorms only a few minutes later. Hermione said goodbye to Y/N to which he apologised once again for snapping at her, emotions can sometimes blind a person.

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about that moment, the way he suddenly snapped at her, the rage inside of him. She understood why he was acting that way but still it was scary to see him act such a way rather than the cherry and joking person he usually was.

—

Y/N stumbled into his dorm room and soon spotted Harry who was staring out into space.

"Hey Harry." Y/N said to the boy as he slumped down on his own bed.

"Hey Y/N..." But Harry trailed off, not really paying attention to anything around him.

Soon enough, Ron arrived just seconds later, nursing his right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened rooms.

"My muscles have all seized up," he groaned, sinking into his bed. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the school. Took ages to get the slim off... How was it with Lockhart?"

Keeping his voice low as to not wake Neville, Dean and Seamus, Harry told both Y/N and Ron exactly what he heard.

"You heard it too?" Y/N gasped as he jumped off the bed, his eyes widening in the process.

"You heard it?" Harry questioned, watching his best friend closely.

"Yes, when I was in the great hall, it felt like my neck was on fire, like it was about to burst open in flames." Y/N explained frantically to the two.

"Hermione? and Lockhart he couldn't hear it?" Ron said, a frown pulling at his features. "D'you think they were lying? But I don't get it—even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"Hermione wouldn't lie about such a thing."
Y/N defended, feeling a bit agitated that he think so.

"I know." Harry said as he laid back against the bed frame, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't get it either."

Y/N sat in silence as he watched the two boys and then finally muttered a response that dignified there situation.

"What the hell is going on...?"

—

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.

Y/N was still mourning the loss of his grandfather but he didn't let it get to him, he kept himself occupied enough during the day and let the night consume his thoughts instead. Also no more sudden voices had been heard since Y/N's time in the Great Hall, for which he was grateful for. His outburst at Hermione, if you could call it that, hadn't fractured their friendship, which they were both relieved about. But still Y/N was troubled by it, he had never felt so angry before, he would have to watch out for it for now on.

Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened, which was why Harry and Y/N was to be found, much to their displeasure, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

The two boys walked the dark corridors of the schools before stumbling across 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," Harry called out to the ghost,

"Hello, hello," Nearly Headless Nick replied, starting and looking round.

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

"So do you," Y/N spoke, eyeing up the ghost miserable face as Nick huffed.

"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?"

"How does someone fail to chop off a person's head after forty-five times!" Y/N exclaimed in a whisper to his friend as the ghost looked at them expectantly.

"I don't know." Harry replied back, tearing his gaze away from Y/N to that of nearly headless Nick.

"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 a great deal of pain and ridicule. However -" Nearly Headless Nick dragged on, shaking 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 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! 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?"

"No," Y/N said, his voice filled with lost and defeat. "Not unless you know where we can get seven free Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for our match against Sly-"

But whatever Y/N was about to say next was drowned out by loud high-pitched meows and something clutching his leg. At first he thought it was Midnight but it wasn't... not even close. He looked down a saw Mrs. Norris. Filch's cat.

"You'd better get out of here," Nick said 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," They both said in unison, backing away from the accusing stare of Mrs. Norris, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the mysterious power that seemed to connect him with his foul cat, Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to the right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rule-breaker.

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

The two of them said a gloomy goodbye to the sullen ghost as Filch guided, more like dragged them, to his office. Mrs. Norris slowly pacing behind, watching for any sudden moves from the second years. Finally after being dragged for what felt like hours, they made it to his office but whatever relief or comfort they were expecting was soon vanquished, for all they saw was horror, horror and more horror.

Chains and hooks laid attached to the walls, almost like a dungeon prison. Which Y/N didn't put it past the old bugger, as he was probably looking for someone to string up...
Y/N hoped Malfoy would be up for it but he could only dream.

Harry and Y/N went and sat, slumping down in a grimly old and mouldy chair, one that didn't resemble the warmth and comfort of Hogwarts but rather a haunted house or some nightmare.

Filch came in, anger blasted on his face, he grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment.

"Dung," he muttered furiously, "great sizzling dragon bogies... frog brains... rat intestines... I've had enough of it... make an example... where's the form... yes..."

He retrieved a large roll of parchment from his desk drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot.

"Name... Harry Potter. Y/N L/N. Crime..."

"Oh come off it! It was mud! MUD! I think you're making a big deal out of nothing." Y/N told the older man, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

"It's only mud to you, boy, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!" shouted Filch, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. " Crime... befouling the castle... suggested sentence..."

"Crime? Sentence?" Y/N chuckled dryly. "I'll tell you what the real crime is, you stalking around in the dark like some sick, degenerated-" But before Y/N could say what he wanted, Harry had shut him up by clasping his mouth shut with his hand, shaking his furiously.

"Why you little-" Again, an interruption happened and it turned out to be a massive BANG! on the ceiling of the office distrusting whatever was to proceed.

"PEEVES!" Filch roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage. "I'll have you this time, I'll have you!"

And without a backward glance at the two boys, Filch ran flat-footed from the office, Mrs. Norris streaking alongside him.

A few moments of silence passed until Y/N was ready to speak. "Never thought I'd say this." He took a deep breath. "But THANK GOD for Peeves."

Peeves was the school's poltergeist, a grinning, airborne menace who lived to cause havoc and distress. If Y/N didn't like him before, he does now.

Harry thought it'd be best to wait but Y/N had an other idea. It was called "Get The Hell Out Of Dodge." Y/N got up off his chair and walked up to the door, peaking out for any sign of Filch or his cat non were found.

"Well, time to leave this god awful place." Y/N went to grab the door handle but Harry called out to him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his brows furrowed and questionable look on his face as he watched him.

"I'm going off to hunt mushrooms in the Haunted Forest, what the hell does it look like I'm doing? Honestly, Harry." The boy facepalmed and turned to the door.

"It's not a good idea." Harry started. "You could get into trouble, more than we already are." He pointed out to the boy.

"Oh well." Y/N shrugged off but stopped in his tracks when Harry said the unexpected, well unexpected to him at least.

"I'll tell Hermione, she won't be too pleased." Harry couldn't help the smirk that was forming on his lips as he watched his friend turn round slowly, his skin slightly pale.

"Do it, I don't care." But something about the slight break in his voice proved otherwise. 'Goddamnit, the powers she has on me.' Y/N groaned.

But it was true. He feared what she would think of, not the action itself, but rather him, he didn't want Hermione to view him as any less than worthy (in a sense) He didn't want to throw away that perfect image that he made for himself, funny, charismatic and loyal. But also he didn't need a part of him to slip and reveal what truly laid beneath the surface of his heart, mind and soul. Y/N never thought about it much, so much that he didn't really believe that he could feel so dilated from his friends. That the thought of them being disappointed or him absolutely terrified him.

"I think you do." Harry replied his smirk now replaced with a cheeky grin, one that Y/N very much so wanted to wipe off, preferably by punching. Indeed, Harry Potter was right.

"Fine!" Y/N grumbled and rejoined his friend, an annoyed expression his face as he looked around the room, his curiosity getting the better of him or perhaps his boredom?

He soon spotted something on Filch's desk, a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the door to check that Filch wasn't on his way back, Y/N beckoned Harry over and so he picked up the envelope and read:

Kwikspell

A Correspondence Course in Beginners'Magic.

Intrigued, both of them flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said:

Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your woeful wandwork?

There is an answer!

Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method!

Madam Z. Nettles of Topsham writes:

"I had no memory for incantations and my potions were a family joke! Now, after a Kwikspell course, I am the center of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution!"

Warlock D. J. Prod of Didsbury says:

"My wife used to sneer at my feeble charms, but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course and I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!"

Y/N laughed as he read on. "This is priceless! Can we take it with us?" He asked Harry, surprisingly, Y/N had a mischievous grin on his lips.

"No." Harry scolded. "What's getting into you? Wet mud on the floor and a scolding from Filch and all of a sudden you wanna be a complete rebel?"

Y/N pondered for a second, 'Yeah that doesn't sound like me at all, perhaps I'm spending too much time with Fred and George, plus escaping from Dad in a magic car only boasted my thirst.'

"Okay fine. But at least we got a way out of here." Y/N voiced, perhaps they could use the letter as leverage in order to get out of there.

Harry was about to reply but shuffling footsteps outside told them Filch was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, Y/N threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened.

Filch was looking triumphant.

"That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!" he was saying gleefully to Mrs. Norris. "We'll have Peeves out this time, my sweet–"

His eyes fell on Harry and Y/N, and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope, which, Y/N realized too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started.

Filch's pasty face went brick red. Filch hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you – did you read -?" he sputtered.

"No." Harry lied quickly.

"Maybe." Y/N answered, a flash of a grin lingering.

"If I thought you'd read my private -not that it's mine – for a friend – be that as it may – however–"

"For a friend? It's magic spells not- well other... things." His mind went to a completely different place, one where much is to be desired, his neck heated up slightly.

"Very well – go – and don't breathe a word – not that – however, if you didn't read – go now, I have to write up Peeves'report – go–"

"Gotcha." Y/N made a zipper motion with his mouth, signifying that he was indeed keeping it a secret, well he at least had to tell Hermione and Ron of course.

They both left the office, which they glad for, but soon enough another voice joined them. A ghost.

"Harry! Y/N! Did it work?"

Nearly Headless Nick came gliding out of a classroom.

"I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filch's office," said Nick eagerly. "Thought it might distract him–"

"Was that you?" Y/N asked in astonishment, feeling a new found respect for the headless- sorry, nearly headless ghost.

"Yeah, it worked, We didn't even get detention. Thanks, Nick!" Harry praised him as the three of them traveled down the corridors.

"I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt," Harry said. Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks.

"But there is something you could do for me," said Nick excitedly. "Harry – would I be asking too much – but no, you wouldn't want–"

'Oh no'

"What is it?" said Harry. "Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.

"Ooook." Y/N said, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. "Right."

"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. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome, too, of course – but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?"

"No," said Harry quickly, "We'll come–"

"Wait-" Y/N began but Nick stopped whatever words he was thinking of from escaping.

"My dear boy! Harry Potter and Y/N L/N, at my deathday party! And -" he hesitated, looking excited "- do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?"

"Of – of course," harry said as they watched the ghost fly away, while Y/N turned to him with an annoyed look.

"What?" Harry asked innocently.

"You freaking idiot." Y/N slapped him up the back of the head. "You've no idea what you've just brought us into. Oh this is great, nothing better than celebrating a person's death day." He said sarcastically as Harry rubbed the back of his head.

"You never know. It could be fun." Harry argued as the two left for the common room, a scowling Y/N walking behind.

"A deathday party?" said Hermione keenly, as Midnight, Y/N's cat was laying in her lap. They had soon joined her and Ron in the common room. "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..."

"Thank you!" Y/N exclaimed as he dropped lazily from the sofa, slumping to the ground. "No one in there right mind would want to celebrate the day they died, i know I wouldn't." Y/N huffed.

"Stop being grumpy." Hermione chastised him. "He's being grumpy isn't he? Yes he is." She said in a cooing voice to Midnight as the cat purred.

'She's lost it.' Y/N thought as he decided to get up and seat down next to Hermione in a chair, Midnight lunged from her lap and onto Y/N's shoulder, emitting a pout from the girl next to him.

—

Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now 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. Fred had "rescued" the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smouldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

Y/N and Harry were at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room.

The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from their minds.

When Halloween arrived, it seemed Harry was beginning to regret his promise to Nearly Headless Nick. Which caused Y/N to give him the "I told you so." Looks whenever they crossed paths, all the time really.

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

"I made no such promise, so I'll see you guys after the feast." Y/N was about to walk away but a very bossy and murderous like glaring, Hermione grabbed ahold of his ear sharply and dragged him along. Much to the boy's protest.

So at seven o'clock, Harry, Y/N, 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.

The passageway 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. They heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered.

"No, definitely not. Not. one. bit." Y/N said out through gritted teeth, trying his best to drown out the horrible sound. 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.

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.

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

"This is just depressing, I've seen graveyards with more life." Y/N muttered as the golden Quartet searched around the room, finding many unique looking ghosts. Y/N wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.

Y/N tried to imagine a younger version of his parents doing this sort of thing. Attending someone's death day. He knew for a fact that his father would've been the same as him, dreading it. His mother though? Well, he figured she'd find the whole thing fascinating, well, for the first few minutes. He'd have to ask him when he returns home.

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

"Moaning Myrtle?" Y/N had to choke back a laugh. "What gave her that name? Let me guess she moans a lot?"

'Why did that sound so much better in my head?' Y/N thought.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls bathroom on the first floor," Hermione told them, ignoring Y/N's words.

Y/N blinked. "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–"

"Too much information." Y/N warned. But soon his attention was brought to Ron.

Ron looked as if he was in heaven at what he saw at the table. "Look, food!"

On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. There was also a 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

"Can you taste it if you walk though it?" Harry asked a nearby ghost, as if he was about to eat it but couldn't because of his ghost form.

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

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

Y/N merely sighed. "It'll be fun they said, It'll be fascinating they said." He covered his noise, hoping to rid the putrid smell from his system.

"In my defence, I didn't know it'd be like this..." Hermione gestured to the the food and the room itself, the darkened and depressing mood.

Y/N looked at her with knowing look. "Mione... it's a death day party, DEATH. There's nothing good about it." He emphasised the word death.

Before Hermione could retaliate, Ron butted in. "Can we move? I feel sick."

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.

"Hello, Peeves," Harry said cautiously.

"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." but no matter what she said, Myrtle came running, I mean floating.

"Hello, Myrtle!" Hermione remarked cheerly
as the ghost spotted her.

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."

At the last line, Harry, Y/N and Ron snickered.
'Out of the toilet' he laughed slightly which made Myrtle turn her head to him.

"What's so funny? C'mon say it, you all want to gloat at poor Moaning Myrtle." The ghost stiffed out, on the verge of tears yo which Y/N took a step back.

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

"Just saying – saying – how nice you look tonight," Y/N defended Hermione, glaring at Peeves.

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

"No we're not, honestly. We were just discussing how— lovely —you are." Y/N strained out as he and Hermione nudged Ron and Harry in the ribs.

"Oh, yeah–"

"They 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! Pimply! "

"Oh Crap," Hermione sighed with a huff, judging by the shock looks on the three boys, it very much meant they had heard her.

Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh yes." They lied.

Y/N added in. "Brilliant time, much better than the Halloween feast." He said sarcastically, fake joy in his voice but Nick was oblivious to it.

"Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent... It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra..."

Soon though, a group of ghosts came galloping in. 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.

The two ghosts made conversations, a speech soon followed as well but Y/N didn't pay much attention since he was trying to heat himself up.

"I can't stand much more of this," Ron muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.

"Let's go," Harry agreed.

"Thank god!" Y/N exclaimed in excitement as the four of them exited the darkened, not forgetting, dead, room.

'Well I can tick "Attend a death day party." Off my bucket list.' Y/N thought as the Quartet finally reached the warm and brightly lit corridors of Hogwarts.

They left with assumption that it couldn't get any worse, undoubtedly, though. It would seem to only worsen...