2.
He stood in front of the doors; going in would have been so easy. He
wanted to walk in,more than anything. Harry could hear hundreds of laughing voices on the other side. He could not imagine celebrating this night,and wondered if he would ever be able to contemplate the simple act of trick-or-treating. The truth was that he didn't feel like going into the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast and didn't feel like going to Nick's deathday party. In fact-
"Mr. Potter."
Harry turned.
She stood away from the light,but Madame Hooch's golden eyes shone
in the darkness. She wore her usual simple combination of black and white. Her short, spiky hair would have been a beacon in the blackest cellar. She stepped into a patch of moonlight,shining through a nearby window. She joined him at the doors.
"Thinking of going in,are you?"
"I'm not in a celebratory mood tonight,Madame."
She didn't say "I understand" or "Poor Harry" because somehow she knew that anything along those lines would make him feel worse. Instead, she offered a solemn nod.
"I was thinking of going for a walk," he said.
"Would you care for some company?"
"All right," he said.
The Great Hall doors swung open. "Why,Harry," Professor McGonagall said. She didn't look as severe as she usually did. Dignified,yes,
but now she offered Harry a gentle smile.
"Evening,Professor." He then said "Happy,um..."
"That's all right,Harry. I know what you mean."
"Thanks."
"Out for a stroll,Therese?"
"With Mr. Potter as my escort. Would you like to join us?"
"Why not?"
Harry stepped out, one very elegant lady on each arm.
"Would anyone like to tell a ghost story?" Dumbledore asked.
The fire blazing around their circle shone the same color
as Dumbledore's eyes. It tossed shadows over their faces.
"Eh," Moody said. "Albus,we aren't the best people to tell ghost
stories. Me idea of a ghost story is 'Today,I ran into Nick in the
restroom and helped him vent some excess ectoplasm.'"
Colin laughed. Professor Moody grinned at him.
"I had a feeling we might reach that conclusion," Dumbledore said. "I
brought some reading material,especially for tonight."
"What'd yeh bring?" Hagrid asked.
"Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven.'"
"Excellent choice," Sprout said.
"The best possible," Snape said.
"I also brought some Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu and Guy De Maupassant-"
"Didn't Guy De Maupassant go insane?" Sprout asked.
"He certainly did. You can track his mental state by the stories he
wrote. As he lost his mind,his fiction got stranger and stranger.
I found a book of Stephen King's short stories in Hogsmeade the other
day. I think 'Gramma' or 'The Reach' would be perfect. Let me see,
what else did I bring...Ah,yes,Kathe Koja's EXTREMITIES. Has anyone
else read Koja?"
Nobody had. "Well,not after tonight." he looked around his feet. "Ah
yes...Kafka. Charlee Jacob. I wanted to bring together the masters
of the written macabre together,past and present. I think-"
A shadow rose up from behind Alastor and Colin; Dumbledore followed
it as it climbed the pumpkin behind them and reached out towards
the group-
"Could someone please get me off of this pumpkin?"
Colin looked back,then laughed. "Get down yourself,Den."
Dennis Creevey smirked back at him. "I can't,I'm holding a-"
Professor Moody stood up and helped Dennis off of the pumpkin.
He was holding a flat square box in one hand; a wire was plugged
into the box, and these tendrils led up to his ears.
"He's got a...CD player,is it,Dennis?" Moody asked.
"Right,professor."
"And whose music have you been experiencing,Mr. Creevey?" Dumbledore asked.
"They're called Last Days Of Humanity,Headmaster. From Holland."
"One of my favorite places."
Dennis handed him the CD case. Dumbledore looked at it,then back
up at Dennis,amused. "'The Sound Of Rancid Juices Sloshing Around Your Coffin'?"
"Their first CD."
Dumbledore perused the track titles. As he did,he shook with laughter. "I must hear 'A Reeking Pile Of Septic Brainfluid',Mr. Creevey."
"I didn't know you liked goregrind,Headmaster." He handed over the
CD player and the earphones.
"Honestly,Dennis,I haven't heard very much. I know of a band from
Poland called Pathologist. I can hear the influence of Bach in their
music. Then of course,there are Napalm Death and Carcass. Napalm Death is considered a grindcore band,not a goregrind band,but the two genres are not that far apart,are they?"
Dennis's eyes were wide. "No,they aren't."
"You look surprised."
"I had no idea you'd know about any of those bands."
"I love music,Mr. Creevey. Chamber music is my favorite,but it's
not all to which I listen." He put the earphones in his ears and
hit PLAY.
"Uh oh,Brian...Now you're REALLY losing your mind..."
He listened to it with a look of bliss and amazement on his face.
When the track ended,he handed everything back to Dennis. "Very
interesting,Dennis."
"How were the lyrics?" Moody asked.
"The lyrics? Bluurrghh. Auuuuuughhh. Guuuurggggh. Variations on that
theme."
"Professor Snape?"
"Yes,Mr. Creevey?"
"What music do you like?"
"I haven't been moved by music for some time,Mr. Creevey."
"Then what was the last-"
"Black Sabbath," Snape said quickly.
"Did you say...Black Sabbath?"
"You too?" asked Sprout.
"Their music kept me from topping myself when I was young. Well,
Hagrid shares just as much credit. I...don't know if I've ever... thanked you,Hagrid-"
"No need ta thank me,Professor."
"I had never heard anything like them...they played these monstrous,
powerful riffs that flattened me every time I heard them."
A shadow fell across the fire.
"Well,hello,Minerva," Dumbledore said.
He stood in front of the doors; going in would have been so easy. He
wanted to walk in,more than anything. Harry could hear hundreds of laughing voices on the other side. He could not imagine celebrating this night,and wondered if he would ever be able to contemplate the simple act of trick-or-treating. The truth was that he didn't feel like going into the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast and didn't feel like going to Nick's deathday party. In fact-
"Mr. Potter."
Harry turned.
She stood away from the light,but Madame Hooch's golden eyes shone
in the darkness. She wore her usual simple combination of black and white. Her short, spiky hair would have been a beacon in the blackest cellar. She stepped into a patch of moonlight,shining through a nearby window. She joined him at the doors.
"Thinking of going in,are you?"
"I'm not in a celebratory mood tonight,Madame."
She didn't say "I understand" or "Poor Harry" because somehow she knew that anything along those lines would make him feel worse. Instead, she offered a solemn nod.
"I was thinking of going for a walk," he said.
"Would you care for some company?"
"All right," he said.
The Great Hall doors swung open. "Why,Harry," Professor McGonagall said. She didn't look as severe as she usually did. Dignified,yes,
but now she offered Harry a gentle smile.
"Evening,Professor." He then said "Happy,um..."
"That's all right,Harry. I know what you mean."
"Thanks."
"Out for a stroll,Therese?"
"With Mr. Potter as my escort. Would you like to join us?"
"Why not?"
Harry stepped out, one very elegant lady on each arm.
"Would anyone like to tell a ghost story?" Dumbledore asked.
The fire blazing around their circle shone the same color
as Dumbledore's eyes. It tossed shadows over their faces.
"Eh," Moody said. "Albus,we aren't the best people to tell ghost
stories. Me idea of a ghost story is 'Today,I ran into Nick in the
restroom and helped him vent some excess ectoplasm.'"
Colin laughed. Professor Moody grinned at him.
"I had a feeling we might reach that conclusion," Dumbledore said. "I
brought some reading material,especially for tonight."
"What'd yeh bring?" Hagrid asked.
"Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven.'"
"Excellent choice," Sprout said.
"The best possible," Snape said.
"I also brought some Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu and Guy De Maupassant-"
"Didn't Guy De Maupassant go insane?" Sprout asked.
"He certainly did. You can track his mental state by the stories he
wrote. As he lost his mind,his fiction got stranger and stranger.
I found a book of Stephen King's short stories in Hogsmeade the other
day. I think 'Gramma' or 'The Reach' would be perfect. Let me see,
what else did I bring...Ah,yes,Kathe Koja's EXTREMITIES. Has anyone
else read Koja?"
Nobody had. "Well,not after tonight." he looked around his feet. "Ah
yes...Kafka. Charlee Jacob. I wanted to bring together the masters
of the written macabre together,past and present. I think-"
A shadow rose up from behind Alastor and Colin; Dumbledore followed
it as it climbed the pumpkin behind them and reached out towards
the group-
"Could someone please get me off of this pumpkin?"
Colin looked back,then laughed. "Get down yourself,Den."
Dennis Creevey smirked back at him. "I can't,I'm holding a-"
Professor Moody stood up and helped Dennis off of the pumpkin.
He was holding a flat square box in one hand; a wire was plugged
into the box, and these tendrils led up to his ears.
"He's got a...CD player,is it,Dennis?" Moody asked.
"Right,professor."
"And whose music have you been experiencing,Mr. Creevey?" Dumbledore asked.
"They're called Last Days Of Humanity,Headmaster. From Holland."
"One of my favorite places."
Dennis handed him the CD case. Dumbledore looked at it,then back
up at Dennis,amused. "'The Sound Of Rancid Juices Sloshing Around Your Coffin'?"
"Their first CD."
Dumbledore perused the track titles. As he did,he shook with laughter. "I must hear 'A Reeking Pile Of Septic Brainfluid',Mr. Creevey."
"I didn't know you liked goregrind,Headmaster." He handed over the
CD player and the earphones.
"Honestly,Dennis,I haven't heard very much. I know of a band from
Poland called Pathologist. I can hear the influence of Bach in their
music. Then of course,there are Napalm Death and Carcass. Napalm Death is considered a grindcore band,not a goregrind band,but the two genres are not that far apart,are they?"
Dennis's eyes were wide. "No,they aren't."
"You look surprised."
"I had no idea you'd know about any of those bands."
"I love music,Mr. Creevey. Chamber music is my favorite,but it's
not all to which I listen." He put the earphones in his ears and
hit PLAY.
"Uh oh,Brian...Now you're REALLY losing your mind..."
He listened to it with a look of bliss and amazement on his face.
When the track ended,he handed everything back to Dennis. "Very
interesting,Dennis."
"How were the lyrics?" Moody asked.
"The lyrics? Bluurrghh. Auuuuuughhh. Guuuurggggh. Variations on that
theme."
"Professor Snape?"
"Yes,Mr. Creevey?"
"What music do you like?"
"I haven't been moved by music for some time,Mr. Creevey."
"Then what was the last-"
"Black Sabbath," Snape said quickly.
"Did you say...Black Sabbath?"
"You too?" asked Sprout.
"Their music kept me from topping myself when I was young. Well,
Hagrid shares just as much credit. I...don't know if I've ever... thanked you,Hagrid-"
"No need ta thank me,Professor."
"I had never heard anything like them...they played these monstrous,
powerful riffs that flattened me every time I heard them."
A shadow fell across the fire.
"Well,hello,Minerva," Dumbledore said.