Chapter 15 - The Deathday Party

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the Female students and Staff,
but was talking to The Doctor Robert and she asked,
"You seem not to be getting many with colds."

"Not a single one only a few staff." Said Robert.
Lewis then started giggling, "Lewis do you know?"

"The Hogwarts Brethren are lucky." Said Lewis smiling.

"Really?" Asked The Doctor.

"Yes." Said Lewis, then laughed again.

The Doctor pulled him into his hospital wing.
"What did you really do?" Asked The Doctor.

"We have been taking immune boosters weekly,
and it has to do with being around a Saphera,
because I bet Hagrid, Dumbledore, Merlin, or Charley
have not gotten sick right?" Asked Lewis.

"Nope." Said The Doctor. "Nor have I."

Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions,
was not dampened, which was why Gryffindor team was to be found at the castle late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Hallowe'en drenched to the skin and splattered with mud, but Lewis' cleaning spell did the job.

Fred and George, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of those new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. They reported that the Slytherin team were no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like jets.

But Lewis Pointed out, "Speed not all that important,
you also need ability." Said Lewis.

"Your right Lewis." Said Oliver.

As the Twins came across the deserted corridor,
he came across somebody who looked preoccupied as they were. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower,
was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, "… don't fulfil their requirements … half an inch,
if that …"

"Hello, Sur Nick," said the Twins, Lewis then walked through Nick, which Nick realized Lewis did a lot.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick,
starting and looking round. He wore a dashing,
plumed hat on his long curly hair. "Lewis, do you walk through me on purpose?"

"Yes, I do." Said Lewis. "Can't explain it but your different,
feels good to walk through you, where the other ghosts don't.
Fells like a nice hug. Also, you are also a Lion."

"If it makes you happy." Said Nick. "I like it when you do that.
Just most people don't like it."

"You look happy, young Potters," said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.

"You do not, what wrong?" said Harry.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand,
"a matter of no importance."

"You are a Gryffindor, so yes it does matter." Said Lewis.

"It's not as though I really wanted to join … thought I'd apply, but apparently, I 'don't fulfil requirements.'" Said Nick.

"What don't you meet the requirements for?" Asked Harry.

"If these headless pigs won't let you join who cares."
Asked Lewis. "Your already part of a group that has you in it and does not want to let you go."

"You must get this all the time, you always know
more then you should, but yes." Said Nick. "You like a Lil Albus."

"I take that as a compliment." Said Lewis.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly,
pulling the letter back out of his pocket,
"that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Oh – yes," said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree.

"You got you head chopped off by an ax it counts," Said Lewis.

"I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean,
it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However, …"

Nick shook his letter open and read furiously.
"We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfil our requirements. With absolute best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore." Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away. "Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore." Nearly Headless Nick took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone. So – what's bothering you? Anything I can do?"

"No," said Harry. "Not unless you know where we can get seven free Nimbus Two…"

"Our Two thousands one are good, and we have skill they don't have. Sur Nick skill is more important than speed,
I mean if you don't know how to use it what good is it."
Said Lewis, "Right Sur Nick."

"That right. Got to know how to use it." Said Nick.

Then there was a high-pitched mewing from somewhere near his ankles. He looked down and found himself gazing into a pair
of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs. Norris.

Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to Harry's right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rule-breaker.
There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head,
and his nose was unusually purple.

"Potters follow." Said Filch.

"We are in a public hall braking no rules, and we are also Prefects why do we have to keep reminding you." Said Lewis.

They set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Nick, They noticed, was still holding Sir Patrick's rejection letter.

"I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt," Harry said.

"You know there is Harry, Nick would you like the Gryffindor Brethren to join you for your five hundredth Deathday,"
Asked Lewis.

"I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country.
It would be such an honor. You friends would be most welcome to. I dare say you'd rather go to the school feast?" He watched Harry on tenterhooks.

"We are coming." Said Lewis. "But chose the largest one,
and I know how you serve food. So, let's do ghost food at one end and food for living at the other end.
Hope you don't mind me asking."

"My dear boy! Harry and Lewis Potter, at my Deathday Party!"
Said Nick. "Of course, I don't mind."

Lewis called the whole Brotherhood to the meeting
at the round table, ever current Gryffindor boy was now a Member. "I need your help."

"What up." said Fred.

"A Gryffindor is in need." Said Lewis. "And we need to show."

"What are we all going show up for." Said Ron.

"A Deathday Party.' said Lewis. "For Sur Nick."

"I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those – it'll be fascinating!" Said Rob.

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?"
said Ron. "He is one of us." They all agreed.

Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster Firework to a Salamander.
Lewis walked up and grabbed the Salamander
before they could feed him one. Then him in a tank in the HQ.

So, at seven o'clock, The Brethren started for the dungeons when Albus saw them and asked, "Gryffindor where you going, most of the boys in the school are missing from the fest?"

"We are going to the party for a Gryffindor." Said Lewis.
"Can you make an appearance. Sure, Sur Nick would love a famous Gryffindor coming." Then Albus followed to.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles too, though the effect was far from cheerful: these were long, thin, jet-black tapers,
all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces.

The temperature dropped with every step they took. As Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him,
he heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard. Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully, "Welcome, welcome … so pleased you could come… Lewis what happened,
looks like everyone came."

"We head a Gryffindor and a Hogwarts needed our support." Said Albus.

"Professor Dumbledore." Said Nick. "Who did you hear
this from?" Looking at Lewis. "As if I did not know."

"You said you wanted someone famous." Said Lewis.
"So I got the biggest name I know of."

"Lewis supports his fellow Gryffindor's." Said Albus.

"I glad we changed to the largest dungeon." Said Nick.

"Told you need it." Said Lewis.

He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.

It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a
black-draped platform.

A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost,
who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.

They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-air before them.

"Hello, Peeves," said Lewis.

Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bowtie and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No." Said Lewis, "How you doing?"

"Want to meet someone," said Peeves, his eyes dancing.
"OY! MYRTLE!"

"Hi, Myrtle." Said Lewis.

She had the glummest face Harry had ever seen,
half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles.

"What?" she said sulkily.

"How are you, Myrtle?" said Lewis. "How nice you look tonight."

Myrtle eyed Lewis suspiciously. "You're making fun of me,"
she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small,
see-through eyes.

"Myrtle I don't make fun of people, I meant it."
Said Lewis. "Do I Ron sweety."

"He never does, he the sweetest person ever."
Said Ron. "He does not lie either. Not sure he knows how."

"You really do mean it." Said Myrtle.

"Yes, I do. After a Dance with Ron and he says it is ok would you want one, would it make you fell happier?" Asked Lewis.

"Yes." Said Myrtle.

"I might loan you out maybe." Said Ron.

"But I might not want to," Said Rob. "He is mine to."

Nearly Headless Nick now drifted towards them through the crowd. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Yes, we are Sur Nick." Said Lewis.

"Lewis if you want to just call me Nick." Said Nick.
"Great Turnout, The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent … It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra …'

The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.

Lewis was standing next to Nick and said,
"Don't show it, you got a full room of people who want you as one of us, you are a Gryffindor, one of us forever.
Look happy you got so many friends."

Then he was happy, and said, "Lewis your right."

"Just so you know, us Gryffindor are not letting go of our house ghost, you are ours." Said Lewis. "You're the greatest."

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses,
each ridden by a headless horseman.
The ghost assembly clapped wildly, but not a single Gryffindor.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging; a large ghost at the front, whose bearded head was under his arm, blowing the horn,
leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd. Strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Live 'uns!' said Sir Patrick, spotting all the boys and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again.

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick.

"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say – look at the fellow."

"He is one of us." Said Lewis, "Once a Gryffindor, Always a Gryffindor, Gryffindor for Life, in this case afterlife!"

"You know I was a Gryffindor?" Asked Patrick.

"Patty boy. Then you should know how to act,"
Said Lewis. "Not sure your one of us. You don't act
like a Gryffindor."

Then he realized something and said. "Your Potters."

"Yes, and that Albus Dumbledore." Said Lewis.

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nick loudly, striding towards the podium and climbing into an icy-blue spotlight.

When Nick was out of earshot, "Patrick please don't miss with his speech, he is a good Man, he is ours and we Gryffindors protect our own." Said Lewis.

"My late lamented lords, ladies and gentlemen,
so glad to see so many of my Gryffindors here." Started Nick.

"We are your kids Nick, where else would we want to be,"
Said Lewis, "Just like your ours to."

"Thank you, Lewis, yes I am happy you guys came." Said Nick.
"My fellow Gryffindor reminded me. I have a place I belong."

"And don't you forget it." Said Lewis, "Your our and we don't let go easy, we are Loyal."

Then Patrick said, "We have changed our mind, we are going let you join, Lewis reminded me we Gryffindor."

The Party went on for the next hour, then the Party broke up.
They went up heading to the next floor,
And then the twins heard it. '… rip … tear … kill …'
It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockhart's office.

Lewis just stopped, and Harry ran into he stopped so quickly.

"It's that voice again.'' Said Lewis.

'… soo hungry … for so long …'

"Listen!" added Harry urgently, and Ron and Nev froze, watching him.

'… kill … time to kill …'

The twin where now thinking as one again.
The voice was growing fainter. They agreed moving upwards.
Then they through it is in the pipes in the wall.
But how? Was it rats, spiders, or snakes?

"This way," Ordered the twins in unison. They twins began to run up the stairs so fast that Ron, Rob, and Nev could not keep up they now two flights up now, into the Entrance Hall.
It was no good hoping to hear anything here,
the babble of talk from the Hallowe'en feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. They now ran up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron, Rob, and Nev where nowhere to be seen.

Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, they heard the voice.
'… I smell blood … I SMELL BLOOD!'

They then thought, 'It's going to kill someone!'

Ron, Rob, and Nev just got to the Entrance Hall,
then Lewis and Harry disappeared, zipped around the whole of the second floor, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

The twin now saw something was shining on the wall ahead.
They approached, slowly, squinting through the darkness.
Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

The twins now saw the cat, Flitch's cat.
Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. Lewis went and took the cat down.

Ron and Nev just now catching up as they headed to the Hospital wing.

"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "Bloody hell are you part cheetah? You guys ran fast."

"Trust me," said Lewis. "We don't want to be found here."

Before they came into sight, Lewis made them invisible,
and he moved them into a corner and said,
"We are invisible, no talking."

A rumble, as though of distant thunder,
told them that the feast had just ended.

From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.
The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the note.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.
"Back to your houses."

Lewis then translocated them back to the HQ,
then headed to the HQ hospital wing, them made them visible. "What wrong with her." Asked Nev.

Lewis sat down through for a few minutes,
"It can only be one thang. This is bad awfully bad." Said Lewis.

"What do you think it is Lewis?" Asked Albus.

Lewis who did move a muscle and was not suppressed said,
"A basilisk, Professor Dumbledore."

"So, what do you plan on doing for the cat?" Said Albus.

"Have not a clue yet." Said Lewis, "But we will figure out,
she might be his cat, but if I lost Merlin, I would be sad."

Then Albus translocated them to the hospital wing,
then said, "Nev can you go get Flitch."

Twenty minuets' latter, Flitch was following Nev into the hospital wing. "Flitch we will heal her, but we got to
figure out how. I promise this to you. Figured you want privacy,
like us you're a very private man." Said Lewis.
"Do you want to go directly to your office?"

"Yes, thank you Lewis." Said Flitch. "Glad you understand."
Then he translocated them to flitch office.