The Bloody Baron, stuck in his old ways, bumped his shoulder into Nearly Headless Nick in the hallway. Of course, being a ghost, he didn't knock the Gryffindor away- his shoulder simply passed through the other man's.

"Merlin's knuts, Baron, you should know by now that you can't physically bully me in the afterlife! At this point it seems like you're just looking for an excuse to get inside me, however briefly!" Jovial as ever, Nick let out a nervous laugh.

The Baron curled his lip in contempt. "As if I'd want to ever be inside a bloody Gryffindor. And a headless one, at that!"

Insulted, Nearly-Headless Nick bent his head to the side, revealing the grotesque stump that was his neck. "Don't lie, you Slytherin. You'd love to learn what it's like to get a blowjob from a man without a throat. Shame you haven't bought me any flowers, or maybe I'd consider it!"

"Hmph! Like I'd be seen buying Daisys, Roses, and Jasmines for a freak like you." He quickly searched the hallway for students, and leaned in. "Not that the idea of shutting you up for once hasn't crossed my mind, I must admit."

Had there been any colour in Nick's face, it would have drained. But there wasn't, and it didn't, and everything would have been great if a Gryffindor student hadn't showed up at that very moment.

The student, a seventh-year, was named Amanda, and she stopped when she saw the two ghosts being moderately civil towards eachother. "So the rumours are true, then?" she inquired, with a smirk, "You guys are a thing?"

Nick and the Baron backed away from each other and looked at the student like she was crazy. "Rumours?" scoffed the Baron. "What sort of bloody rumours are there that I'd be involved with a pansy Gryffindor?"

"Well," the girl started, "There's the fact that you're always bullying him... And none of the other ghosts. And then there's the fact," she nodded at Nick, "that your poetry's been making the rounds around the Gryffindor common room all week..."

"WHAT poetry?" The Gryffindor ghost managed to squeak out.

"Oh, you know, the poetry about a certain Slytherin ghost's... oh, what was the phrasing? Oh, yes, his 'pureblood package'. I loved that one. Might have traumatized the first years, actually..."

"Pureblood... package? ...Seriously? What does that even MEAN, you goddamn little poofter?" He knew full well its meaning, of course, but he wanted to watch Nicholas squirm.

Rather than answer the question, Nick did the one thing that Gryffindors should never do: he fled. He floated through the walls and up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, trying to figure out a way to explain the damning poetry. Nixies, perhaps...

Meanwhile, the Bloody Baron was having a good laugh at what snippets the student could recite from memory. Another few Gryffindors, named Brendon and Alayna, had made their way over to their part of the hallway, and they helped. All in all, it was probably the first and only time that the Slytherin ghost had enjoyed himself with anyone from Gryffindor.

Well, he supposed he was guaranteed to enjoy himself with their ghost later.

"...I grabbed his wand, and with a spasm, in my hand a gift of ectoplasm!" Brendon finished, doubling over with laughter. "I mean, seriously, Baron, it's bad enough that our ghost's writing things like this about you, but he's not even with you? Oh, Merlin, that's precious." He wiped a tear from his eye. "I mean, seriously, we must have the most pitiful ghost in all of Hog-"

He looked around. "-warts. Um, guys? Where'd he go?"

The other students, who had also been distracted by their own laughter, just shrugged.

The Slytherin ghost had made his way to the dungeons, and started fishing through Professor Snape's potion storage. After a moment, he found what he wanted- a small vial with a thick red fluid inside. With a little of this, his lineage wouldn't be the only thing that was pure blood...

He started floating up the stairs to the Gryffindor rooms before realizing that the Fat Lady wouldn't let him in. Silly, that. He could just go through the walls from a different side... But he didn't want anyone *living* to see him in there...

Nick sighed. There was no way he was going to live this down, especially if she'd gotten to the ectoplasm poem. Shit. He rested his head in his hands, planning to spend the next eternity in his rooms.

Suddenly, he felt a familiar cold feeling pass through him. He looked up. "Oh, sod off, Baron. I don't want your mockery. Just leave me to my wallowing."

The Baron chuckled. "You sure you wouldn't rather be swallowing?" He drank half of the vial and handed the rest to a very confused Gryffindor ghost. "Drink it."

Nick figured there wasn't anything the vial could do that was *worse* than having his poetry found and made common knowledge, so he complied. As he downed its contents, he could see the other ghost slowly gain more colour... until, eventually, he could have just been looking at an oddly-dressed living person. The Baron stopped floating, dropping suddenly to the floor.

AND THEN THEY HAD HUMAN BODIES FOR EXACTLY TWO HOURS AND THIRTY-TWO MINUTES AND THEY TOOK FULL ADVANTAGE OF THAT FACT AND THEN THEY GOT MARRIED AND HARRY WAS THE RINGBEARER BECAUSE WHY NOT