It had been just after his weekly meeting with the other ghosts, that while talking with the Friar, he felt as if he was being watched, or rather followed. He didn't dare mention it, though, as the Friar, a good man, should not have to hear about his silly worries.
It wasn't until they had been walking (floating, as they were ghosts, but Nichlas never liked to remind himself of that) in an empty corridor he knew.
Back when he was a mere boy, around fourteen, and was 'best friends' with Patrick, they would go here all the time, just to talk, until it was time to see their next professor.
It was a sunny day in August, not having rained for three weeks then, and he and Patrick, like always, were conversing.
"Have you heard yet?" Patrick asked.
"No," he had frowned, "what happened?"
"Don't look so grave, Nicksy," Patrick waved him off. (Nichloas scowled internally, remembering the dreaded nickname that he had worked hard to conceal. Patrick never was shy about it, and that fact caused a few older, mean-spirited boys to take a malicious interest in bothering him, until he had gotten his Hogwarts letter, and although they still bothered him, at least he could defend himself.) Patrick continued, but this time, he lowered his voice, "Alica… met my acquiesce.."
"...What?" he, at the time, felt completely puzzled.
"Alica, the ravenclaw beauty… Ah, I suppose you wouldn't understand," Patrick smiled, before his tone became more teasing, "not the brightest, are you?"
"Not the… Patrick!" Nicholas' jaw clenched, knowing that he had been insulted. He then puffed out his chest. "There's a reason why girls adore me."
A moment of complete silence, until something was heard...
Patrick first barked a laugh, which had turned into maniacal, wheezing guffawing.
Nicholas bristled, his cheeks visibly turning a rosy-red in indignation, as they usually did whenever he was feeling upset. "I-" he tried to speak, but his throat suddenly felt dry, as he tried to regain any amount of control of this situation.
"Remember-" Patrick seemingly tried to hold himself together, wiping his blue eyes, and steading his posture, as he leaned in, "remember Laura?"
"Do not bring up Laura!" Nicholas spat. It was a rather sore topic for him, as Laura, a Gryffindor girl in his year that he had been crushing on for about a year, had publicly rejected him, and a week later, confessed to Patrick. Luckily, Patrick had the decency to say no to her, but whenever things got a little too heated, he always brought her back up to startle him.
He was met with Patrick's sigh, as he posed, like he was narrating a story.
"Poor Nicksy got his heart broken," Patrick's face contorted to something dramatically sad, before putting a hand on his heart, "does Nicksy need his cuddly toys? Does he need-"
"BE QUIET!" Nicholas finally snapped. The soft toy wasn't even for him in the first place! It was for his young cousin, Annabeth, originally, but as she was not present, his aunt had given it to him. He, being a gentleman, accepted it with grace with the full intention of throwing it out, but as his mother didn't want to waste such a gift, he was forced to keep the small, stuffed rabbit in his room.
His mother, even after his pleadings, never allowed him to take the toy out of his room's sight, claiming it to be disrespectful to his aunt. So, when Patrick came to visit for the first time, Nicholas explained the entire story. He even put effort into making him seem extra-noble, as he wanted to impress his best friend, but the more important part was that he was telling the truth.
But from the way Patrick's eyes glittered with amusement, it was crystal-clear that the story was not believed in the slightest.
"I'm- I'm leaving!" Nicholas had declared, turning around, as he smirked, finally getting the last words in their argument.
He managed a few steps before something felt awfully wrong..
His uniform was now far too tight on his body, making it hard to even breathe. It seemed as though his clothes were about to tear apart. His head whipped back around, seeing Patrick still holding his wand- pointed right at him- and now smirking.
"Unless you want to leave in tatters, I suggest you apologize," Patrick sounded playful, and that only made Nicholas' blood boil more.
He wanted to argue, but then he remembered the important fact that not only he'd be going to class soon, but the Gryffindor tower was a good walk from there. "I'm," he muttered, only loud enough for Patrick to hear, " 'm sorry, I guess…"
"For what?" came Patrick's eager response. This set Nicholas off, as he wasn't exactly in the mood for any of this.
"I dunno, I didn't even do anything!" he said bitingly, "you're just jealous that-"
He was cut off by Patrick swiftly casting a whispered spell at him, which had loosened his robes.
He sighed in relief, but then, he noticed something..
His robes were far too big now, and practically ate him whole. The fabric, being stretched, had become too soft that Nicholas felt the lure of sleep just by touching them, and accompanied with his already-short height (he was sure that one day, he'd be as tall as Patrick. It just hadn't happened to him yet.), made him look even smaller.
"Damn you," Nicholas cursed at Patrick quietly, not wanting to mess with him, as he concluded that this (even if it was by a little) was better than the tighten robes.
"Now, Nicholas," Patrick started, still having that annoying smile on his face, "why would I be jealous of you?"
He didn't say anything. He just couldn't. Every time he tried to, he would get more angry, and not be able to think without swearing his worst in his thoughts.
He stalked off, trying to put on a facade of a proud lion, but it had all came crashing when, just before he had left Patrick's sight, he tripped over his own feet, as his robes were more like oversized pajamas.
He remembered the exact way his chest exploded in new-found rage, as he heard Patrick snort loudly.
Nicholas turned back into the present. Those days didn't matter as much, he told himself, he had changed and was now somebody that was a brave, respected ghost!
He looked at the smiling Friar who was talking excitedly about the upcoming Halloween. That was when, suddenly, his floating had came to an abrupt stop, and he had stumbled onto the ground, just as he did before when he was a little boy.
He sat there, confused out of his wits, and the Friar was more or less the same, but he didn't seem that bothered by it.
When Nicholas saw a familiar figure approach them, he snarled, unable to even get up now, as he glared upon Patrick.
"Nicholas!" he cried out happily, "just who I was looking for! And hello, Friar."
"Good day, Patrick," The Friar said in a pleasant voice.
"I assume my dear friend Nicholas hasn't been too moody recently?" Patrick asked, waving his hand around lazily.
"When am I ever-" he tried to interrupt but he could tell Patrick wasn't listening to him just yet.
"Ah, is he ever not moody?" The Friar said with a light laugh.
Nicholas bit back a comment, as he continued to sit on the ground, not having anything else to do, as right now, his legs couldn't move and he was stuck in this position for now.
"He's always been very.. high strung on his emotions," Patrick snickered, "I remember this one time, when we were kids, he got stuck in a tree and-"
"Don't talk about that!" Nicholas said fiercely, fuming a little at the mention of that memory.
"It was funny," Patrick looked alive just thinking about what had happened.
Nicholas snarled yet again, "it wasn't to me."
There was nothing funny to him about being chased up a tree, being taunted while up in that same tree, and then bursting into tears because seven-year-old him was deathly afraid of heights. Not to mention the fact that he was saved by Patrick at the end, and that just had to be Nicholas' first impression on somebody he used to look up to a lot.
He remembered thinking it wasn't fair.
"Anyways, Nicholas, I seem to have noticed that you've forgotten your application letter this year," Patrick smiled cheerfully, "but do not worry, dear friend, I am a humble man and will accept to review it now…"
"Actually," Nicholas smirked, "I won't be interested in the headless hunt anymore, so you don't need to worry, Patrick."
Patrick paused, looking genuinely shocked, as he glanced at the Friar. Then his face became more relaxed. "Oh, I see," he chuckled, "going through a phase, now, are we?"
"Wha- what-" Nicholas' face felt less cold than usual, which was a sign that even though he was dead, his body- even though it was translucent- still had a way of reacting to things. It didn't help that Patrick was quite literally looking down on him.
"You're rebelling, huh?" Patrick smiled fondly, "sounds like something you'd do…"
By now, the leg-locking jinx had stopped partially, and so Nicholas jumped to his feet- abit ungraceful, and more clumsily- and with one menacing look at Patrick, he stormed off, not bothering to hear the way they were…. Talking about him as if he were a joke!
Whatever, he reckoned that they were both not going to be invited to his deathday party.