Rising from the ground full-ghost specter splendor, Gil's groupies immediately fell and embraced his knees as best as they could because they were full ghost.
"Gil, we love you!" they wept, great pearly tears of sorrow as they fawned over him, their ghostly fingers clutching him as best they could, seeing as they were fully ghost and couldn't really touch him at all but they at least made an effort which was nice.
"Groupies," he addressed them in his velvety voice that made a few of the ghost groupies faint, "I have summoned you because I need your help. With your power-"
"The power of love!" cried a ghost groupie who Gil immediately ignored.
"We can send the Grim back to the land of the dead if we combine powers, your full ghost powers and my half-ghost powers combined can save us if we combine them!" said Gil, who drummed his fingers on Darke Thorne.
"If we help you, will you marry us?" asked a doe-eyed groupie whose pouting lips quivered. Her eyes filled with tears at the very thought of addressing Gil.
"No," answered Gil, "but I will thank you with a card and basket of fruits or various meats and cheeses."
"Gil!" cried a ghost groupie who flailed her arms wildly, "So thoughtful! A real gentleman! And half-ghost! We will help you defeat the Grim so we can attend your concert at Hogsmeade in hopes that you will play our favorite songs and maybe propose your hand in marriage to us!"
The ghost groupies erupted in applause, many weeping openly at the thought of helping Gil with many others announcing their undying and unconditional love for him. Gil brandished Darke Thorne, which was vibrating palpably as it recharged. Gil, still spent from banishing Umbridge and summoning the groupies and battling the Grim and practicing with his band Kill Me Quickly and looking so gorgeous.
"But Gil," interrupted a ghost groupie, "You are so very weak. You should rest and let us nurse you back to health. You are in need of coddling!"
"He is overdue for a good coddling!" shrieked a groupie, who was fully prepared to coddle Gil who was, indeed, overdue for a good coddling.
"Nonsense!" said Gil, who was still weak and in need of a good coddling but whose strength was returning, "I am half-ghost and therefore, I am only half-tired."
"That makes sense!" said a groupie.
"Like John Paul Jones," said Gil, brandishing Darke Thorne high above his head, "I have not yet begun to fight!"
"Who is John Paul Jones?" asked a groupie.
"He has three names! He must be important!" said an unimportant groupie with only two names.
"Groupies, groupies! We must focus on the crisis that has fallen upon our half-ghost and full-ghost shoulders. Groupies, we must join forces!" said Gil with the authority of a sexy general who rallies his sexy troops.
The groupies all put their Gil Fanclub Secret Decoder Rings on their ghostly fingers and formed a circle. They thrust their hands with the rings on in the center and a bright pink orb or bright light whatever began to glow and it got bigger and bigger and stuff.
"Ghost groupie power activate!" they cried.
"Yeah!" shrieked another one, for good measure.
----------------------------
Back in the Great Hall, Luna Lovegood was laying on the bench, staring at the ceiling of the Great Hall as it reflected a beautiful, sunny sky which was totally unlike the atmosphere which was definitely bad.
Hagrid approached Luna. Luna wrinkled her nose. Hagrid smelled. Bad. Like, a hairy half-giant who drank a whole lot of alcoholic beverages (which are bad).
"Hullo," said Hagrid, breathing his horrid breath on Luna who nearly expired of asphyxiation.
"Hagrid," said Luna, her voice dripping with whimsy and stuff, "These are dangerous times. In addition to having a Grim loose, the constant threat of Voldemort, and everything, I have just learned from my copy of The Quibbler that the Earth is hurtling into the sun."
Hagrid screamed in a high-pitched, girly voice. Luna nodded sadly.
"I must go and eat all the ice cream before it melts!" cried Hagrid as he dashed off, crushing several students underfoot.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, somewhere else in the hall, Harry was still moping and frankly, everyone was tired of his incessant whining which had been going on pretty much since book 1.
"Harry," said Hermione, "You have been annoying, irritating, irksome, and more synonyms than ever since Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone."
"We tire of your antics, etc," said Ron, wrinkling his freckled nose in disgust.
Ginny grabbed Harry by the collar of his robes and shook him violently, nearly breaking his neck which was so wimpy, "Pull yourself together! You are Harry Potter! The boy whose good luck and knack of getting yourself out of undesirable situations has made you famous despite the fact that nearly all of your achievements can be attributed to others."
"Ginny!" said Harry as he was still being shaken, "I-believe-you-have-shaken-some-Sense-into-my-head!"
Ginny stopped shaking Harry, surprised at his confession? COULD IT BE?
"Yes!" said Ron, in answer to the question posed by the author.
"Sense-has-indeed-been-shaken-into-my-head. I-can-see-clearly-now-that-moping-will-do-no-good!" cried Harry, his eyes lighting up at his own revelation.
"You can stop talking like that!" said Hermione.
"Oh, right," replied Harry, "Well, anyway, the Sense that had long ago left my mind has now taken up residence in my mind once again."
"He's so eloquent," breathed Mel, clearly enchanted by the new and motivated Harry.
"I will no longer be hindered by my career-ending injury," announced Harry.
"What?" asked Ron, his hideous orange eyebrows rising in confusion, "I am so confused. My eyebrows rise of their own accord in confusion and befuddlement."
Harry leapt to his feet, a very dramatic and invigorating leap which only ended with a very dramatic and invigorating crash to the floor.
"Harry, Sense does not fix your injury," said Hermione matter-of-factly-and-stuff, "Perhaps you had better leave the dramatic leaping to someone who is more able-bodied."
"Like Gil because he is out there, fighting off a Grim when you are here, lame like a horse except you will not soon be turned into paste for kindergarteners to eat," said Mel.
"Paste is not just for kindergarteners!" cried Ron angrily.
"Woe, I burn," cried Harry, "burn with the desire to help and only further aggravate the situation."
"Penicillin can clear that up," said Mel.
"lol" said Hermione.
Harry leaned on Mel like a human crutch, which she willingly obliged to being the loving soul that she was. He waved his balled fist angrily.
"I shake my fist in anger," said Harry as he did so, "and I make this vow to do all that I can to help the able-bodied and half-ghost Gil who can defeat the Grim. Like John Paul Jones, my hero and yours, I must stay the course and fight the good fight."
"Harry," pleaded Mel, "You are not in any condition to fight. Your body may obtain horrid battle scars that mar your pale, kind of clammy flesh."
"My flesh already harbors a scar, a scar of the worst kind, one that kind of hurts and kind of hurts often," said Harry quietly. Mel's eyes filled with tears at the eloquent and well-said kind of statement.
Harry pointed to the doors of the Great Hall, "That way, Mel. Let us limp toward the ultimate showdown. The showdown to end all showdowns. Brother pitted against brother. Father against son. Dogs vs. cats. And so on and so forth."
The pair limped off towards their destiny which awaited beyond the door.
