Author's Notes: Happy Halloween! - A little late. This was written with the intention of entering the October Metamorfic Moon challenge.
It's AU, Halloween 2009, and the first fic to follow in the A New Happiness ficverse. - Which is really only important so far as Teddy's character and the ending line, as it turned out. I would suggest reading it first, but this can be understood on its own.
Stylistic Warning: I tried a new style of writing in this; it may or may not work. I wanted the story to jump suddenly from person to person, my purpose being to keep the pace quick while adding a bit of suspense. It's meant to be "seamless" in that I didn't want to put asterisks or dashes to separate things because it causes you to pause. However, this may just confuse you. So any critiques and comments on the style will be greatly appreciated!
The Headless Haunt
By Jackie
"Protego!"
"Remus!! – Accio Remus!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!!"
A long, wooden table soars through the Great Hall at the behest of Teddy Lupin, intercepting the sword of a great, black headless figure just before it slices through the worthless shield charm his father had conjured in an attempt to protect himself. Remus flies backward towards his wife as the table splinters into pieces, the larger halves of each side splitting with a heavy clatter. Momentarily distracted, the rider's beast of a horse whinnies and rears in protest.
"Run!" Remus calls, placing a rough hand on Tonks' shoulder and spinning her about as Teddy bounds ahead."Thanks for the save, Dear."
"All in a day's work," she retorts over her shoulder with a grin entirely unbefitting their current crisis. Then, "Excellent shot, Teddy!" to her son, the halls of Hogwarts rushing by in her peripheral. "You may say you're interested in history, but you'd make a great Auror!"
"I'm eleven years old!" he calls back. "Besides, I really only know one spell."
"That's not true, –" Remus begins to say.
"AH! MUM! Wingardium Leviosa!"
The figure within the picture that soars off the wall gives a startled shout as he scrambles out of the frame just in time.
"GAHAHAHAHA!"
A loud rip echoes through the hall carried with the thunderous clunking of the gigantic horse's shoes, and the Horseman continues his pursuit.
"Into my classroom!" Remus orders.
The Lupins scramble inside the room, hoping that the small entryway will at least buy them some time.
Of course, it doesn't.
Whether by magic or something else connected with the undead, the Horseman and his ride squeeze easily inside though taller and wider than the opening should allow.
He hesitates a moment, probably deciding which head to claim first, his black, red-eyed stallion stomping its hoof impatiently. Quite suddenly, he spurs the horse on, and Remus forcefully shoves Teddy away from himself and Tonks. Teddy tumbles over a chair, and with a small clatter, his wand fumbles from his hands. The horseman turns abruptly to approach him.
"Stupefy!" Remus shouts, but it only serves, like all the other curses and jinxes he and Tonks had tried, to bounce right off him.
Back, back, back the youngest Lupin slides, straight into a wall. Cornered and wandless, Teddy looks up in terror as the Horseman draws ever nearer. With another haunted, echoing laugh, the headless ghost raises his sword, preparing for the downward swing.
Time out! Aren't you curious about all this? How this all began? How and why the Headless Horseman is at Hogwarts, and in England, no less? I've been trying to convince myself that it's not my fault he's after us, but really, if I wasn't so curious, we wouldn't be in this mess now, would we? I know I'm about to lose my head, so it's probably not the best place to pause, but they do say that your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, so that must be what this is.
I wonder, though, is it normal to narrate?
Then again, I wonder a lot of things. But really, with parents such as mine, shouldn't I?
Anyway, this all started about a week ago when I started waking up to a distant moaning every night. Then I noticed that there were fewer ghosts around. - Specifically the members of the Headless Hunt, who arrived at Hogwarts sometime in mid October in preparation for Halloween, which they decided to spend here. - No one else seemed to have noticed, though, so I kept my thoughts to myself. That is until I overheard a few days later, while on my way to History of Magic with my mates, some of the ghosts discussing it.
"-haven't seen her in a few days," the first ghost had said, his decapitated head speaking while resting in his body's hands. Will and Pat had been saying something, but I wasn't paying attention to them anymore, too intrigued by my own mystery to solve. "The others, maybe, but she… Gloria would never leave the Hunt."
"Have you heard the rumours?" the second ghost, a woman who's severed head was currently sitting atop her neck hidden behind obtuse ruffles, asked in a quiet, conspiratorial tone. "About the-"
"The bodies?" the third interrupted. He was not headless, evident by the way he was able to nod. "I've heard they've been spotted along the edge of the forest – ghosts with no heads. I haven't seen it myself, but others…-"
"Another organisation?" the first put forth logically.
The whole ghost bobbed his head back and forth gravely. "No. They really don't have heads."
"You mean they're-?"
"Missing!" the woman exclaimed with a terrified tremor.
"What does that mean?"
"Oi, Ted!" Pat startled me, and I realised I was standing dead in the hall. "What are you doing back there?"
The three ghosts I'd been eavesdropping on gave me a sour look, having noticed I was listening in, and floated away through the wall by which they had been talking. Shaking my, for the day, orange-haired head to myself, I turned back to Will and Pat and set off at a quick sprint to catch up.
"Mister Lupin!" And skidded to a halt: Professor McGonagall always catches me running in the halls.
"We've had this discussion multiple times," she said severely as I guiltily faced her. "Troublemakers as both your parents were, they at least they had the forethought to follow the rules in front of their professors. And neither, I recall, seemed to have your problem with maintaining an acceptable pace in these halls."
"I'm sorry," I apologised demurely. "I forgot."
"Forgot? Forget again, Mister Lupin, and I shall be forced to have a word with your father since it seems I'm not getting through to you."
I winced. Sometimes I hate that my dad is the DADA professor, even though he loves his job, and he's really good at it. "Yes, ma'am," I answered.
"Now hurry along to class before you're tardy on top of it. – And walk."
Nodding, I walked as fast as my legs could carry me to catch up with Will and Pat.
"It's like… she has a homing beacon on you or something," Pat whispered in awe.
"What was that about?" Will asked, while nodding in agreement with what Pat had said, though he was obviously as confused as I was about Pat's reference to a homing beacon. It must have been a muggle thing, so I logged it in the back of my mind to ask Harry about in my next letter.
"I dunno, but she always catches me." I glanced to my watch quickly.
"I meant about the ghosts," Will said. "What were they talking about?"
"I know! I'll tell you in class! We only have two minutes!"
As we scampered down the hall, walking, Pat rolled his eyes. "In your favourite class? I doubt that."
"Even I get bored with Binns," I admitted. "Besides, this is far more interesting!"
And class was boring. I don't quite know how it's possible to make the Giant Wars boring, but Professor Binns seems to have worked it out well. So it was a good thing I had other matters to attend to with Will and Pat. We surreptitiously (yes, I know what that means; think about who my dad is) passed notes between ourselves, and I told them everything I had observed and overheard. They were curious, but nowhere near as intrigued as I was. I suppose because it concerned ghosts and not the living.
We spent the rest of the day discussing it, though. After History of Magic, there was Herbology with Professor Sprout – it's her last year at Hogwarts, and everyone says I'm lucky to have her – and Potions with Professor Slughorn. Still, it was just something to speculate about to them, so when I saw Nearly-Headless Nick on my way to the Great Hall for supper, I called out to him, determined to find out some more information on my own.
"Nick!" I called, running after him to catch up with his floating, ghostly form.
"Mister Lupin!"
The Headmistress walked briskly by me with a reproachful glare, and I slowed my pace. "Sorry."
"Ah, Teddy Lupin! I was just on my way to see the Grey Lady. Wonderful to see you; how are you?" Nick answered, cheerful as ever. So distracted and baffled by McGonagall's sudden appearance to catch me again, I only nodded dumbly in reply.
"Orange today, I see. Finally decided you'd rather be in Gryffindor, then?"
I frowned, my hand unconsciously running through my hair. "Everyone's been saying that today, even though Gryffindor is gold; they said I should stick with shades of blue."
"At the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw game next week, it will probably be wise thing to do. – Not that we Gryffindors would mind, mind you."
"The sorting's already done, Nick. I'm a Ravenclaw; I can't be a Gryffindor, now."
"That may be, but I think you're only in Ravenclaw because your father is Gryffindor's Head of House."
"Maybe." I shrugged, not willing to lie; I had hoped to be sorted into Ravenclaw because I wanted school to be as normal for me as possible with Dad being the DADA professor and Gryffindor Head of House, but I like to think that I fit Ravenclaw well. "Can I ask you a question?" I asked, decidedly changing the subject.
Nick was surprised, his silver see-through eyebrows shooting upwards. "Of course! Are you wondering how I died, perhaps?"
I suppressed a shudder: I already knew about Nick's botched forty-five-swings unsuccessful beheading, but didn't want to offend him. "No…" When his face fell, I felt obliged to say, "Maybe another time. - Do you know anything about the ghosts who have been disappearing?"
His expression, which had lightened for just a moment, darkened, which, when speaking to a ghost, is rather frightening. "Unfortunately, I do. But why are you concerned with it? I didn't even realize the students knew."
"Oh…" I said, suddenly feeling self conscious. "It's only me. I mean- I told Pat and Will, but I think I'm the only one that's noticed."
He was surprised again. "Oh. Well… Maybe there's a little merit to your sorting, after all. The Headless Hunt haven't even been here for two weeks, but you've recognized their numbers are declining... – Are you interested in joining them one day?"
I gaped, and stuttered for a moment. "N-no! Why would I…? No! I just heard some of the other ghosts talking, and-!"
"Right, then," he said, interrupting my reaction. "I was only going to say that their organisation did not appeal to me until sometime after my death."
"I haven't died yet!" I snapped back.
"Precisely. I would have been alarmed if you were considering it already, now…"
Fighting back the urge to pass my hand over my face, I settled for the next logical question: "Why the Headless Hunt in specific, anyway?"
Nick shrugged nonchalantly. "You've got me. I haven't the foggiest why they've been singled out – or by whom."
This intrigued me. "It's just them? None of the others?"
"Others…?" he asked, eyebrows rising again.
"The other ghosts. It's just the Headless Hunt?"
He gave a bitter sort of smile; perhaps bittersweet, as if he was conflicted how to feel about the situation, and I remembered that though Nick wanted to become a member of the Hunt, there were certain circumstances that had shifted his feelings on the matter. "Yes… I've yet to hear what Sir Podmore has to say about it," was all he said.
"Sir Podmore?" I asked.
"Patrick Delaney-Podmore – he's the leader of the Headless Hunt. He's been recruiting a lot recently; seems to want to expand the ranks, but he's denied my attempts to join, and he led the Hunt to ruin my Deathday party some years back. You should ask your godfather about that; he was there."
Yes, he had been. Harry had told me the story before. But I was still in want of more information. "Do you know anything about the bodies at the forest's edge some of the ghosts have seen?"
He started again. "You know about that, too, do you?"
"Only heard."
"Yes, well… It's quite disturbing, isn't it? Envious and offended as I am by the Headless Hunt, I would never wish such a curse on them as to be completely headless."
I frowned in confusion. "Why?" I asked – only to realise what it sounded like I was asking.
Sure enough, Nick regarded me with an appalled glance: "Because I like to think I'm a civil person, of course!"
"No, I mean…" I immediately corrected. "Why is it a curse to be 'completely' headless?"
"Oh! Of course!" he said pleasantly. "Well, we ghosts are conscious beings, but for those of us with severed body parts-" he flipped his head to the side for effect, "It's almost like we have two consciences – or two factors for consciousness, if that makes more sense. When a ghost's body is separated from its head, it doesn't die like mortals do, and so the inverse is also true, but ghosts are meant to be whole, even in pieces."
I felt disturbed by his explanation up to this point, regretting I'd asked, but I continued to listen.
"Ghosts who lose their body parts will never be complete, and they will only know longing for the missing piece until it is found. The bodies of those ghosts convene together because they're searching for a common goal, but that's all they know. Their heads, wherever they are, are caught in the same sort of limbo, except that they've no way to go about achieving that goal.
"In effect, you may as well call it torture," he stated demurely. "An eternity of restless waiting."
"Is a ghost a soul?" I found myself asking.
"Not quite, but almost. There's not much difference, except for the places we inhabit."
"So… You can't die after you're a ghost?"
Nick shuddered, closing his eyes briefly. "Not… necessarily…" Then he cleared his throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable. "I really must be going – the Grey Lady and all. It was a pleasure speaking with you. Keep an eye out, and inform me first if you discover the culprit who is responsible for these heinous acts as I want to deal with him personally." And with that, he floated away without giving me a chance to say anything.
Even though I had gained information, I still wanted more, so I made a decision: that night, I was going to keep watch on the forest's edge.
The stakeout was long and dull. I soon depleted my supply of Honeydukes treats, and I made a note to myself to request some more before the thirty-first. Mum would be angry, but I planned on including the details of my investigation; hopefully, it would smooth over me eating all the candy at once since I was engaging in Auror-like activities.
At 12:30, my eyelids felt leaden, and the soft snores of my fellow Ravenclaw first years weren't helping. Several times, I felt my head droop, and I jumped awake to go back to watching the Forbidden Forest's edge. At ten minutes 'til one, I was about ready to give up.
But then, in the middle of my mental argument with myself, I saw movement – a white, see-through wisp that disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.
As effective as a jolt, I was wide awake, and I rushed to wake Pat and Will. Both groaned at me and resisted at first, but I was more persistent than they were aware enough to oppose, and both, albeit glaring at me, joined me at the window.
And then they, too, were no longer remotely sleepy. It was like a scene out of one of those horror stories the fifth years like to tell.
Just as the ghosts in the hall and Nick had described, the headless bodies of ghosts moped and wandered about aimlessly at the forest's edge. There were at least twenty of them.
"Whoa!! You were right, Teddy!" Pat said in an awed whisper.
"This is creepy… What are they doing?" Will asked. "Where… are their heads?"
"I don't know," I said. Then, "Shh!! Listen! Do you hear that? It's the sound I told you about!"
Silencing each other, we listened hard and the low moaning of the bodies below became a little clearer. It was a haunting, chilling sound, especially when considering that they really had nothing to make the sound with in the first place.
"Do you think we should tell anyone?" Will whispered. "We're the only ones that know at this point, right?"
"I bet McGonagall knows," I affirmed quietly. "If she knows when and where I'm running in the halls every time, then she knows about this."
"It's chance she's there every time," Pat said firmly.
"Can you prove that?" Will asked.
"Who cares?!" I interrupted. "Listen. We should just go down there ourselves and check it out."
"What?! Are you mad? How do you know it's safe?"
"Sure! We can just waltz on down and leave our dormitory… at one o'clock in the morning!" Pat said sarcastically.
"It's easy! I've got that map my dad and his mates made, remember? All we have to do-"
"Bloody h---!! What is that?!"
"Will!"
"Look!!" he cried, pointing out the window frantically.
And that was the first time I saw him. From the first year Ravenclaw dormitory window, all we could see was a large black figure on an even larger horse. Mist poured from the horse's nostrils with every snort, pounding its massive hoof as the black figure came to a halt in the midst of the wandering, headless ghosts.
"Is he…." Pat began.
"Headless, too," Will finished.
The ghosts' moans increased in volume, and they moved as if summoned towards the figure, arms out and grasping to no avail.
"GAHAHAHAHA!!"
We all jumped at the sudden echoing laugh, and the figure, unsheathing a gigantic sword, pulled on the reins as his horse reared, and he galloped back into the forest. The ghostly figures wandered after him, their groans fading with them.
It was a few minutes before we moved again, each shocked by what we had witnessed.
Finally, Will asked, "What are you going to do, Teddy?"
Only one thought came to mind.
"I'll tell my dad first thing in the morning," I said decisively. He wouldn't be back until then because that's our agreement. "He'll know what to do. Let's just… try to get some sleep."
Funny what happened the next morning… Mum was there. Like she is… now…
"Stupefy! -- TEDDY!!!!"
"TEDDY, NO!!"
"GAHAHAHAHA!"
Oh G--, not Teddy! Not my son! I'll never reach him in time, and Remus… Too far! I have to… do…. something!!
"Expecto Patronum!!" The spell springs from my lips without a second thought. Silvery and spectral, my dearest protector bursts from the tip of my wand and lunges towards the Horseman and Teddy. Come on, Tonks! Trust that you did something right!
I don't.
Oh, please! This has to work! It must!!
But nothing else has…!
I can barely will myself to look, and as the spectral blade falls forward towards Teddy, I turn away. I cannot watch my son die; I'm going to be sick as it is. I think I… I think I'm….
"MUM!"
Don't look, Tonks.
How can you not?! He's calling for you!
"DAD! I'm all right!!"
What…?
" Mum, LOOK!"
"Brilliant, Nymphadora!" Remus cheers me from behind.
I can't help it. I have to look, now.
My heart gives a particularly hard thud as I see that Teddy is safe – or as safe as he can be when the ghost of the Headless Horseman is locked in battle with my Patronus just above him. – Hang on, a second. With my Patronus?
"BLOODY H---!" I exclaim in annoyance with myself. "I should have thought of that sooner!" If physical objects and magic can't harm it, then something that takes the form of a spirit should!
The Horseman is stuck, his sword caught between the teeth of my Patronus' mandibles. Try as he might, he can't free his weapon from the spectral werewolf's fierce grip. Pointing my wand at 'Remus,' I direct him to push the Horseman back.
"Come to me, Teddy!" I command, and he does. I have to touch him, the fingers of my free hand just brushing a few strands of his hair. "Stay behind me."
He nods, and I direct my full attention to the battle at hand. On the bright side, the Horseman will have a tough time freeing his sword from 'Remus'' grasp. I just have to buy time until dawn, Nick arrives, or the real Remus can find a solution. Sure! Not a problem!
The Horseman's sword budges just barely a half inch.
"Remus-" I start to say.
"I'm on it," he replies, and I can hear him frantically flipping through pages. "How long do you think you can hold him off?"
"I don't know," I say, my eyes dipping to Teddy. – He seems to be quite impressed with the two of us. I suppose after hearing all those stories about his father and me, this must be quite exciting for him. But I don't have time to feel any sense of pride. "Just don't count on forever."
D---. If only we'd had a bit more forethought when Teddy told us yesterday…
"Are you trying to tell me that you, Pat, and Will saw the Headless Horseman outside Hogwarts last night?" Remus asked seriously, but I could see the bemused glimmer in his eyes.
"The who?" Teddy asked back. "We don't know what we saw." He was still slightly pink, having intruded on a private moment between Remus and me. – Well, it wasn't that private; I was just sitting in his lap on the edge of his desk while we were having a nice, quiet chat. I'd surprised him by taking the morning off from Auror-ly paperwork duties to come see him. The full moon had only been the other night, and he was still a bit weak from it, so I thought a nice surprise might cheer him up. He had been quite pleased to find me waiting in his office only moments after we'd exchanged goodbyes at the house and I'd gone "to work."
Okay, so Remus may have had his hand on my bum while I was toying with one of his lapels. And maybe our chat was more flirtatious than nice. But we've told Teddy a million times to knock.
Hmm. Ya' know, that million times thing never seems to work. Must remember to apply that in the future.
Anyway, Remus, having been leaning against his desk, pushed himself to stand and crossed the short distance to his small library of books, fingers skittering over their spines. "Your description of this dark, headless figure on a horse fits the Headless Horseman. He's an infamous American ghost, actually," he said, pulling out a book and turning slowly with it in hand as he cracked it open and flipped through the pages.
"American?" Teddy asked in confusion. "Are you sure? How would he be here?"
"That's a good question. - Here we are," he said while placing his thumb between the opened pages and flipping the book around for Teddy to see.
Teddy looked between us both, and then said slowly, "Okay…." and peered at the pages his father had presented him with.
Remus pointed to a picture on the page. "The story of the Headless Horseman was first recorded by the Muggle author Washington Irving, though his existence had been passed on as common knowledge in the American Wizarding community for quite some time before then. It is said that during the American Revolution, he was beheaded by a British soldier after he had beheaded several British soldiers. His head was buried while his body was burned. He's said to return nightly to the place where he died, to ride in search of his head; he haunts the American town of Sleepy Hollow, beheading those he crosses the path of."
Teddy stared blankly at the page. Then he looked to Remus again. "That's definitely what I saw last night. And it would make sense with the ghosts' heads disappearing."
"Teddy," I said, now becoming more intrigued. "The Horseman can't leave Sleepy Hollow; there's a bridge he can't cross. And what's this about ghost heads disappearing?"
One disturbing conversation about headless ghosts later, I exchanged a worried glance with Remus. It was true that the pieces fit for Teddy's theory, but how had no one else noticed, and more relevant, how could the Headless Horseman leave Sleepy Hollow? Or make it across the Pond to haunt Hogwarts?
"It was right of you to come to us with this," Remus was saying. "Your mother and I will look into it and see what we can find out. In the meanwhile, don't do anything rash or irrational. Just be patient; this could be a potentially dangerous situation."
"And would you look at that!" I said, pointing to the time. "You need your breakfast, young man. – Especially since it seems you didn't get your sleep last night."
Teddy rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine, Mum. – You will look into it and find out?"
"Of course!" I chirped. "I'm about on my way to tell Harry that I've found myself a new case, so he doesn't need to assign me one. Excellent snooping!"
"And…" he looked skeptically between us both. "You will tell me what happens?"
Remus grinned. "Yes, of course."
"All right," he said more to himself. "I have to go, then. They'll be wondering what's taking so long." With a quick goodbye, he was out the door.
"I'll owl Harry and do some snooping of my own here," I said as soon as the door shut, though my eyes lingered where he had been only moments before. It's been hard, letting him go to grow up, and it doesn't help that Remus gets to see him every day. "I'll find out about those… headless ghost things."
Remus nodded, jotting notes down on a piece of parchment."I'll get to work tracking down how and if a ghost can change haunting locations."
I couldn't resist: "You up for a late night, Lupin?" I asked grinning widely.
He chuckled. "With you, any time."
"Ooo! If we're lucky, maybe this will turn out to be nothing at all!"
"If this turns out to be nothing, then we may need to worry about our son's mental faculties," he retorted.
But of course, it did turn out to be something. Something quite serious and alarming. Our patrol of the school that night and into this morning… Well, it wasn't quite as eventful as what's happening now.
And right now, my Patronus' strength is wavering already, fading… I don't know that I can hold him off much longer… Where the bloody h--- is Nick?? He said he'd be here!
Doesn't matter, I remind myself. He's not here, so I must hold: we haven't any other options. Not unless Remus-
"Here it is! He mustn't be allowed to escape the dawn this time!"
"That's it? How cliché," Nymphadora grunts back playfully, but I can tell that her strength is waning.
"He also must be pierced through with his own sword."
"Uh… That complicates things a bit, Dad," Teddy deadpans.
"Yes, well… That's all it says here," I say, but still scan through the text for any possibility that I missed something.
My research was gruelling yesterday, too. Normally, I enjoy the challenge and the learning that goes along with, but I became frustrated when I realised I hadn't a clue where to begin looking. The feeling only intensified when I ran into my fourth dead end and found myself irritated by my obligation to teach class. But it was the class and Teddy himself that led to my answers.
I've never been one to ask questions. I have them often, but it never occurs to me to simply ask; I suppose I see research as a sort of independent quest, something that should require effort, so the simple act of asking questions usually escapes me. So when Teddy raised his hand in class, I remembered what he had said about finding Nick, and I felt very stupid for not having seen before the most valuable resource available in our particular situation: the ghosts themselves. Surely they would know something.
Straight away after my last class, I hurried down the hall in search of a familiar ghost. I really didn't care who it was, so long as it wasn't Peeves, who would undoubtedly lead me in a most agitating circle of rhymes and jeers. As it turned out, the ghosts were strangely absent from their usual haunts within the school, and I found myself further exasperated with the situation.
"You look like you're looking for someone," a high, girlish pitch inquired behind me. "I've been watching you. Who are you looking for?"
I briefly wondered whether Tonks would be amused or annoyed by this student's admission, but it was enough to distract me into telling the truth: "I'm just looking for a ghost; I have a few questions… - Wahhh!" I let out a startled cry as a wisp of clear, white smoke passed through my middle to float before me.
She hovered with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed behind her round-rimmed glasses. "And what do you think I am?!"
"Myrtle!" I exclaimed, hand covering the general area over my heart in a futile attempt to slow its racing. "I didn't realise it was you; I thought you were one of my students."
Of all the ghosts I could have found… Really, my exceptions to 'any ghost' should have included her, as well. Myrtle's a nice girl, but… well, I don't think she's all quite there, and I don't mean to reference her lack of a living body. Of course, having already exposed my purposes in a bout of impulsive honesty, I couldn't but ask her a few things, at least. On the bright side, Myrtle, peculiar as she was, had always been a reliable source of information in the past, even if she never understood herself.
"Well, it's no wonder, Remus Lupin," she scolded me severely. "It's been years since you stopped by my cubicle to say hello! And I get so awfully lonely…"
I frowned slightly. "To be honest, Myrtle, I don't recall having ever visited you in your cubicle. It's in the girls'-"
She inhaled sharply with a wail, the beginning of a sob, and I had to stop myself from looking frantically about to ensure no one else was around. "Ohhh!! No one ever remembers me!" she cried.
"Don't be silly," I said, and then immediately wished I hadn't.
Crying and squealing in earnest, I feared Moaning Myrtle would be inconsolable. As a student, while such a reaction on her part was certainly undesirable, it was, for all intents and purposes, "acceptable." As a professor as well as the Gryffindor Head of House? Well, it was a right moral travesty in terms of what various responsibilities we professors have.
"Myrtle!" I shouted over her. "I only meant that it's silly to think that people forget about you! It's only that no one really uses that hall anymore, so no one really has time-"
"For me!" she wailed.
D---! I was just digging a deeper grave for myself. "Of course not! If you would haunt a more used cubicle, I'm sure-" - the girls would stop using it, as well - "That you would be far less lonely!"
She sniffled. "You really think so?"
"I know so." At least, I thought, for a few days. But that just happened to lead so perfectly into my own inquiries that I couldn't allow myself to feel guilty at the moment. "That's actually what I wanted to ask you about."
"About haunting a different cubicle?" She seemed so gleeful that I was reluctant to tell the truth.
"Sort of," I tried compromising. "I wanted to know… Is it possible for a ghost to change haunts?"
Myrtle nodded matter-of-factly. "Oh yes! In fact, many ghosts choose not to haunt any particular place at all."
"Why?" I asked in as neutral a tone I could. Really, I was excited and fearful at the same time to find out this piece of dreadful information. "How would they choose to move?"
"Well," she said raising her chin importantly in such a manner that I couldn't help smiling a bit at her confidence and, if temporary, feeling of self importance. "Most people think that ghosts haunt places because they're cursed, but that simply isn't so. Ghosts choose their haunts."
I frowned, suddenly wondering if Myrtle really was the expert she thought she was. "If they choose their haunts, why are some of them restricted by their choices?"
"Because choosing your haunt isn't as simple as saying that you want to haunt a place. Any restrictions are the ghost's own subconscious ones," she explained lazily. Then hovering close, she said seductively into my ear, "You have to really want it. To feel really attached to the place or… person." Then she floated back, a pleased expression across her face. "Free ghosts genuinely don't feel any sort of ties to any one place or person. They can go anywhere."
"But Myrtle…" I began slowly, careful of my phrasing. "I wonder… Well, it's only that you said you get lonely, so I wonder why you haven't changed haunts."
"Oh! How very intelligent you are!" she said with a giggle and floated close, brushing a ghostly finger down my cheek. I shivered, but surely not for the reasons she thought I did. "It has crossed my mind many, many times. But it wouldn't work out."
Curiosity, I suppose, should be exercised with caution. However, I couldn't help myself and soon afterwards regretted my next question: "Why? Where would you go?"
She sniggered and gave me a glance that conveyed she thought her answer should be apparent. I must admit that after she gave it, I had to agree with her expectation. "Why, Harry Potter's house, of course!" And the snigger turned into a cackle.
"Harry…" I repeated dumbly, an odd sensation coming over me as heat rose to encompass my cheeks and ears.
"But you see, I would never haunt a boy's toilet. Tempting as it may be…" she sighed and then giggled and snorted again, and I suddenly felt very, very sorry for Harry.
"So," I said, attempting to get back on topic, "Say a ghost haunts a particular location in search of something. Why would he move?"
Her ghostly eyes glittered. "You're talking about him, aren't you?"
I merely blinked and said nothing; not that I was disinclined to believe Teddy, but I wasn't sure what to believe, yet.
"Well, I wouldn't know," she said carelessly when I didn't answer. "Perhaps he's given up his search and is now here for revenge."
"Revenge?" I asked.
"Well, of course! We're British, aren't we?" She lifted her chin importantly. "We're the ones that killed him. And there's such a gathering of ghosts here! Unlike any other place in Britain."
I found myself nodding, but asked, "Why the sudden interest in ghosts, though? He's always been after the living."
"Well, there weren't any other ghosts around Sleepy Hollow, were there? Didn't you ever wonder why?" she peered at me curiously.
Lost in my thoughts, I murmured, "No, now that you mention it, I never did."
Having given me plenty to think about, she saw fit to leave. "Well, goodbye, Remus Lupin. I shall not be changing cubicles because I am rather fond of my own!" And with a silent whoosh, she disappeared through the ceiling.
I'm not sure why it was so difficult for me to believe the Headless Horseman was at Hogwarts; perhaps it was because I was so accustomed to him being half a world away.
It didn't help matters that I felt guilty for breaking my agreement with Teddy later on that night: we agreed that I wouldn't stay overnight at the school so he could experience a little time on his own without his father down the hall – even if he does sleep during it. Or at least he's supposed to sleep. But I couldn't leave Nymphadora on her own to investigate the strange circumstances – especially given what Teddy and his friends believed they had seen.
So I was here, at midnight with Dora on her investigation. We searched the grounds, splitting up for half of it, for hours, but we found no signs of strange activity. Both of us expressing exhaustion at 5:30, we called it a night and headed back up the slope to the school in drowsy silence. Our entwined hands swung together between us lazily, and my eyes felt drawn to the sky, wondering how I would manage teaching for the day.
"It's been a while since we've seen a sunrise together," I commented casually, though it was still quite dark, and I wasn't sure from where the thought had come.
She turned to me with a cheeky grin. "Oh, so you think you can find some energy to do that, do you?"
It's always amazed me how easily she can tap into energy reserves I never even realise exist. "Didn't I tell you any time this morning?" I said back with a flirtatious sidelong glance and barest twinge of my eyebrows.
"No! NO!!!" Terrified and tortured screaming interrupted our conversation, and we spun around quickly, wands at the ready. I did not believe what I saw at first.
Just outside the tree line of the Forbidden Forest surrounded by a swarm of headless ghosts, a figure clad in heavy, black armour was seated atop an enormous black horse. The figure had no head, but for the shrieking one in his gloved hand, which he grasped by its ghostly hair. The head obviously belonged to the ghost's body at the horse's feet, which had fallen to a kneeling position on its knees.
"Don't let him take me! No! Nooo!!" The ghost cried, but the Headless Horseman did not even pause in his actions. He reached behind his saddle for the large, black bag he had secured there.
It was then that I realised who he was: "That's Sir Podmore…"
When he opened the satchel, a chorus of screams rang out. Nymphadora was suddenly clutching my arm as we watched the Horseman toss the head who was still screaming, though indistinguishably from the rest, into the bag with the other ghost heads he had already acquired. He pulled it shut once more, cutting off the outcry, and placed it back behind his saddle.
"Mmmmmrrr…." the headless ghosts moaned, arms outstretched and reaching for the Horseman. The newest headless body rose from its kneeling position and mimicked the others.
"GAHAHAHAHAHA!" the Horseman laughed triumphantly. But ahead of him, I caught a glimpse of movement.
Three boys pelted up the way to the school, their robes billowing behind them and each casting terrified glances backwards. I knew immediately that it was Teddy, Pat, and Will.
"Oh G--… Remus!" Tonks cried, releasing her hold on my arm and stepping forward quickly. I then saw why: the Horseman had seen them and had turned his steed to face their direction, slowly drawing out his long sword.
Teddy noticed Dora and me at that moment, as well, and he called out to us.
"Get inside, now!" I commanded not even turning to face him. The horse reared as his rider brandished his weapon above his headless shoulders, and the horse's massive front hooves fell forward with a thud that reverberated through the ground and my own feet. The Horseman sped forward for the children.
My heart pounded hard in alarm as I registered the truth of the matter: "Magic nor physical objects can affect him!"
"They can slow him!" Nymphadora replied fiercely. "Confringo!" she cried, and large piece of earth directly in the Horseman's path exploded, creating a decently sized pit. He stumbled into it, nearly falling off his horse.
"Incarcerous!" I shouted immediately after. The thick ropes that emerged from my wand snaked their way around the horse's legs, causing him to wobble and tilt. However, the Horseman merely lowered his sword and cut the bindings away; they galloped onward, but no longer towards the children.
"Confringo!" Tonks cast again, but this time, the horse leaped over the chasm. He was far too close and becoming closer.
"Expulso!" I tried, but as expected, it ricocheted off his armour and bounced harmlessly with a loud explosion onto the castle wall.
"Evanesco!"
"Evanesco??" I looked to her, bewildered.
"It was worth a shot!" She shrugged.
He rode directly for us, sword at the ready.
"What do we do?!" Tonks asked, backing away.
"Duck!" I cried and threw myself atop her just as the Horseman swung his sword for our necks.
I had expected him to circle around and take another pass, but the Horseman's gallop was retreating, not coming closer: he was still chasing the children.
Rolling off Tonks, I scrambled to stand and pulled her up after me.
"What did you say about ghosts changing haunts?" she asked as we ran into the school and towards the Great Hall.
"They can change them," I said. "But they have to be connected to the place they haunt."
"What's his connection here?"
"Myrtle suggested that ghost heads are better than mortal heads and the abundance of those in this place or possibly revenge. I don't profess to know why, or even how. I just know it's possible."
"Obviously, since he's chasing down our son!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!" We heard Teddy's voice echo through the hall followed by a loud crack.
We skidded into the Great Hall just in time to see Nearly Headless Nick withdraw his sword and block the swing of the Horseman directed towards Will. The two ghosts faced each other, though it was hard to be sure what Nick was looking at since his opponent completely lacked a head of his own.
"So you are the one responsible," Nick said indifferently. "I despise villains, even if you have just sacked the most infuriating person I have ever had the displeasure to know."
The Horseman pushed against his sword with a heave of strength and threw Nick backward across the room. I watched as with ghostly ease, he floated to a hovering stop and rushed forward again to protect Will. There was an echoing clank as their swords crossed again.
"Look, on the horizon," Nick said softly. "Dawn approaches."
The Horseman made to grab at him with his free gloved hand; Nick dodged the attempt easily, though he remained close to Will. Immediately, the Horseman turned and galloped away, through the archway of the Great Hall, past Tonks and myself, out of the castle entrance and sped for the forest. As Nick had said, dawn approached.
Stunned silence had followed; no one said a word until Minerva arrived, harried and confused. Then the boys started confessing in earnest, and I found it no surprise that getting a closer look at the Horseman had been Teddy's idea. One hundred and fifty points were deducted from Ravenclaw and no other punishment was given.
"He's going to come back," Nick then said.
"After us?" Will asked timidly.
"After all of you," he replied. "Tonight, I would suggest being prepared."
"We can't defeat him, Nick. We need help," Tonks said pointedly.
"I shall be glad to assist," he said with a small half bow. "At the moment, I have my own preparations to attend to. If you'll excuse me."
"I'll call an immediate faculty meeting," Minerva said after Nick was gone. "No students are to be out of their dormitories after nightfall this evening."
The students followed this decree, most not having a desire to encounter the Horseman themselves. Those that were curious did not have a way to escape their Houses as Minerva had instructed the Heads of House to stand guard in their common rooms. She took my place with Gryffindor so that I could patrol the halls with Dora.
The evening passed by uneventfully until 11:00 when we discovered the one and only student who was not in bed sneaking into the Great Hall.
"I knew you shouldn't have given him that map!" Dora whispered harshly as we trotted to catch up to him.
"It was against my better judgment as a parent, I admit that," I agreed with her. "But you can't blame me for aiding a new generation of Marauders."
"Teddy isn't a troublemaker!" she insisted hotly. "He's just too curious for his own good!"
"Point taken and duly noted," I said as we entered the Great Hall. Teddy was rushing towards the faculty table, presumably to hide from us. "Teddy!" He spun around in complete surprise and said something under his breath. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I…" he began, and then said nothing shifting his weight between his feet.
"Do you have any idea how much danger you're in?" Dora asked severely.
He looked between us helplessly. "I was just-"
A clunking gallop interrupted him, and we froze to listen. It approached ever nearer, closer and closer, but I willed myself to remember that the solid iron gate to the school was locked and in place.
A glass window shattered, and a moment later, the Headless Horseman appeared in the entryway of the Great Hall. He withdrew his sword slowly.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Teddy shouted, sending one of the tables soaring through the air.
We've been running from him ever since.
I should have known Teddy would find a way to escape when his parents were out to face the Headless Horseman. I would find a way to escape in his position. And troubled as I am that he's here and in such danger, I can't overlook the fact that Dora and I may owe our lives to him tonight. He could have been a great Gryffindor, but I suppose a great Ravenclaw is just as great.
I shift my glance to Tonks; it's about time I call my own patronus to relieve her. There's no telling that mine will be able to carry on restraining the Horseman's weapon, but Dora is fast losing ground, and it's no wonder, seeing as how neither of us has had a wink of sleep in the past two days.
"Dora, Teddy, back away from him."
"I can't break my concentration now, Remus."
"Teddy, then; back up!"
I shake my head defiantly. "No! I'm not leaving Mum!"
"Teddy, do as your father says!"
A white wisp bursts through the wall and hovers, looking down.
"NICK!" I shout in excited glee. We're saved!
"I apologise for my tardiness," he says coolly, silver eyebrows arched at the scene before him: Mum's Patronus of Dad fighting with the Headless Horseman. "I wanted a bit of backup, but unfortunately, he seems to have found you quite early on. – Are you really sure I'm needed here?"
Mum chances an alarmed glance in his direction.
"Not unless we want to find out whether the bite from the patronus of a werewolf will turn the undead spirit of a headless Hessian soldier into an undead werewolf every full moon," Dad replies jokingly.
"Merlin, that would be a new breed, wouldn't it?"
But before Dad can comment on it anymore, the Horseman is finally able to make his move. Mum's fading Patronus soars across the room and vanishes, the Horseman triumphantly twirling his freed sword by the hilt. I hear Dad cry out and the screech of tables and chairs behind as I hit the ground a second time tonight.
When I look again, the scene has completely changed: Mum is no longer standing before the Horseman, but is lying on the ground like me, and Dad's on top of her. And Nick… Nick is standing quite calmly with his sword withdrawn, interceding again between the Horseman and his victim.
All is silent but for the grind of metal on ghostly metal.
And then, moaning disturbs the air around us, growing louder with a steady crescendo. I feel a chill run down my spine.
They come, pouring in through the walls, headless ghost after ghost wander in inside, their bodies floating awkwardly, arms outstretched and legs following lethargic. They surround the Horseman and with their ghostly hands, hold his horse in place.
"It's just you and me," Nick tells the Horseman.
The Horseman slides off his horse, seeing it's of no avail to attempt moving, and in a fluid motion, brings his sword crashing down. But Nick easily blocks it. The blows from the Horseman come quickly and powerfully, but Nick, aside from his intense concentration, doesn't seem to be worried.
The swordsman's quick, wide arcs cause Nick to play mainly defence, and he's forced backwards, backwards, backwards into the wall.
Remembering what Nick said – or didn't say – about ghosts and dying, I can't stand by helplessly. Running forward, I slide and grab my wand, and then, pointing it at a desk, call out, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The Horseman may just slice it in half, but hopefully it will buy enough time for Nick to escape.
… Or to sever the Horseman's arm from his body. And then to stab him through the heart…
"You are fallen," Nick says shortly. Then, "Teddy! Do it now!"
"Do what?" I ask, confused and dreading.
"Put an end to him!
"But…" My protest dies in my throat as I look to the giant sword still in the gasp of the Horseman's severed limb. Lost in indecision, I watch helplessly as the Horseman grasps onto Nick's sword, still stabbed through his chest, and begins to push against it.
"Teddy….!" Nick calls me, but I can't move. Not towards him.
"Teddy." It's the quiet, commanding voice of my dad, and I turn around to face him.
Sitting on the floor, he's gently holding Mum's arm, who is leaning against him with a grimace across her face. Her wrist is twisted grossly; I realise with a start it's broken. I search her face, and she gives me a weak smile.
"You can do it," Dad says.
I find myself shaking my head. "How can I even lift that?"
"Teddy!" Nick grunts.
Dad smiles at me. "You've been lifting heavier things all night."
I blink in realisation and feeling confident for the moment, spin around and point my wand at the sword. Nick is still struggling with the Horseman, but I don't allow myself to think about any of it lest I lose my nerve.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" The sword and arm rise up together and hover for a moment. Checking my aim once and then twice, I send it speeding forward and close my eyes.
I still hear the sickening crunch as it cuts through his armour and middle, and the Horseman's horse begins to whinny in earnest.
Chancing a glance to see what I've done, I open my eyes slowly and then stare. It's an awkward sight to see someone's own sword held by their own hand and arm pierced through their own back. I have a hard time believing I am responsible.
"Bravo, Teddy!" Nick says in a relieved voice.
The Horseman backs away from Nick towards his horse. I notice that the headless ghosts are able to detach the Horseman's bag from the saddle, and they retreat from the two black figures.
And then an unearthly, blood-curdling scream emits from somewhere within the Horseman, the sound mingling with his horse's cries. I cover my ears to block out the noise.
Dark, black light shines through every crack and crevice in the Horseman's armour and glows dimly from his severed neck and arm, and the same is true for his horse. It's a strange light, not really bright, but growing in intensity. It grows and grows, seemingly spreading the crevices wider.
I almost can't tell that I've covered my ears when the headless ghosts are successful in opening the Horseman's satchel. Still crying for help, the heads tumble out, rolling about the floor while their bodies give bumbling chase. Then the heads realise they're free and give a cheer.
And then, quite suddenly, the Horseman is completely silent, as is his horse. Strangely illuminated, he stands completely frozen for a few moments.
And then he and his horse explode into a thick cloud of black dust. Except for the black ash that covers us all and the room, there's not a trace that the Headless Horseman ever existed, and the ghosts, no longer missing their heads, give another joyous outcry.
"I haven't had that much excitement in centuries!" Nick says gleefully.
"Aren't you forgetting the Battle of Hogwarts only nine years ago?" Dad asks with a raised brow.
"Well, I couldn't do much but watch and hope then, could I? This time, I was actually useful, and we ghosts like to feel that every now and then."
"Ahem," a voice interrupts us. Turning, I see the ghost I witnessed with Will and Pat last night lose his head. He approaches us regally, his head resting upon his neck, hidden behind the same ruffles many of the other ghosts with severed heads have. "Well, that was certainly the worst prank ever gone awry in the history of the Hunt," he says.
"Prank?" Dad asks as he reaches down to give Mum a hand standing. "That was a prank?"
"Can't believe he followed us…" the ghost continued absentmindedly. "It was just a bit of fun; we thought he'd be an excellent addition to our company. Unfortunately, he was very… vengeful…"
"I should have known it was something so simple," Nick says sarcastically.
The ghost's eyes dart to him. "Sir Nicholas."
"Sir Patrick."
He sniffs. "Well, surely you didn't think we chose this location to spend Halloween as our first option. We only came after we'd been chased out of Sleepy Hollow by the Horseman; we had no idea he would follow us."
"So the Horseman was after you, then?" Mum asks, tone dark.
"Yes. He sought revenge after we paid him a little visit that didn't go quite as planned."
"Well, that answers that question," Dad states with forced false cheer.
"Indeed. Now, to whom do I owe my salvation and that of my colleagues?" Sir Podmore announces pompously looking around. His eyes fall on Mum and Dad first, then on me, and finally, they narrow when he reaches Nick. "Fate could not be so cruel," he mutters with an arrogant sneer.
"Unfortunately for both of us, it was," Nick replies stoically. His eyes shift to me. "But I cannot claim credit for the Horseman's demise; you are owed that to young Teddy here."
Sir Podmore's eyebrow raises, and he addresses me with a bow. I can't help wondering how his head remains in place on his neck. "I offer you my deepest gratitude, Teddy. We'd surely be lost without you."
I look quickly to my parents for some clue how to handle myself, but Dad is focused on healing Mum's wrist, and she simply shrugs at me. I turn back to Sir Podmore.
"S-sure," I say casually. "No problem."
The eyebrow remains quirked. "Is there anything that I can do to repay you for your service?"
"Well… If you could possibly convince my parents not to ground me-"
"Not a chance," they deadpan together, and I openly wince.
"You're lucky you're in school," Mum continues, testing her healed wrist experimentally.
But then Dad adds, "I wouldn't count that as a blessing…"
"Okay, then…" I suck my breath in through my teeth, thinking. "I think," I decide, "That you can probably help Nick more than you can me. He deserves it more than I do, anyway; we all would be dead without him. – Or… uh…" I fumble, catching myself. "We wouldn't be…here… anymore."
"Very well," he says haughtily. Begrudgingly, he faces Nick. "And what can I do-"
"Don't pretend like you don't know," Nick drawls sarcastically.
Sir Podmore huffs in irritation and for a moment, says nothing. Then, "Let me consult with the others."
The members of the Headless Hunt, all crammed into half of Dad's classroom, await Sir Podmore as he approaches, and then they all gather around him and a whispered conversation ensues.
"What do you think my odds are?" Nick whispers to me.
"They can't say no," I say confidently. "He might, but not all of them. They owe you their…" I trail off, thinking. "Well, they wouldn't be here without you, and they can't ignore that."
The ghostly group parts for their leader to approach us once again. Sir Podmore says, "Well, Sir Nicholas, it appears that the entire Hunt and myself are in your debt. Exempting myself from the Hunt as a whole, everyone is in agreement." His eyebrow twitches and jaw tightens as he continues, "In light of your actions tonight… I would like to reconsider your request to join our ranks."
I grin, and Nick seems pleased, as well. With a small smile, he imitates a minute bow to the members of the Hunt and then says cordially, "No."
I'm not the only one surprised.
"No?" Sir Podmore asks indignantly.
"No."
"Why ever not? Did you not just say-?"
"I did, and the answer is no. I don't want to join."
Sir Podmore is fuming. "You spent all these years begging me, pleading with me to let you join, and I let you join only to find out that you did it all so you could reject me?!"
Nick grins, and I hear Mum's snort of muffled laughter. "Yes." Sir Podmore makes a strangled sound. "Surely you didn't think I'd want to after you crashed my death day party?"
Sir Podmore only glares at Nick before turning on his heel and floating away in a fit of fury.
"In my humble opinion, it doesn't seem like Sir Podmore will remain the leader of the Headless Hunt much longer," Nick says in a low, conspiratorial voice and motions to the crowd of angry Hunt members. They glare at their leader, some whispering and grumbling to each other, and I can't help but be pleased for Nick's sake. "Should that time come, I may consider joining the Hunt…" he says with a very questionable lilt to his voice. Then he smiles and confides with me, "But I think I may just be quite content to stay here."
I grin. "I think we'd be quite content with that, too."
"Well, Teddy," Dad says grinning, placing a dirty hand on my equally dirty robes. "If you're supposed to be the next Harry Potter, you're off to a great start."
"But…" I say hopefully, "Harry never got grounded!" It's worth a shot, right?
The End
AN: So I'm a bit guilty in this one. From a technical standpoint, there was a lot of extra detail in this. Sorry if I left you wondering why it was there, but I guess I just wanted to do a mini-mirror of the books so far as the way it unfolded. I know that took a little more time and was a little off from the plot's focus, but I hope I tied it in well enough to be enjoyable.
The ghosts' connectivity to a haunt I came up with while pondering how the Headless Hunt was free to move about while other ghosts seemed to be tied to certain locations. It was never expressly stated that ghosts in the HP universe must haunt a certain place, but I figured I'd come up with some sort of explanation. - Especially since the Headless Horseman isn't supposed to be able to cross that bridge… ;)
Also, I figured Nick had to have the Sir title for some reason or another, not to mention that he's the Gryffindor ghost, and I always assumed that had more to do with his life than his death. :)
Happy Halloween! - NOT Merry Christmas; geez people! ;) Thanks for reading!