I do not own Harry Potter nor World of Darkness
Classroom 22, Hogwarts, 25th October 1992 (Sunday)
While Luna and Professor Flitwick were heading towards Ravenclaw tower, Ron was trudging across the castle towards his bedroom. Sure, the Fae studies club was interesting, but not after spending three hours in detention with Snape for exploding a cauldron. It wasn't even his fault! How didn't anyone notice Malfoy tossing the porcupine quills into his cauldron? He could believe that Harry, Theo, Sally and Daphne didn't see anything, since they were on the other side of the class, but Neville and Samus were right there! They should have defended him!
Halfway through the staircase, he saw Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath.
"Hello, Nick."
The ghost suddenly jolted out of his thoughts. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Ron could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.
"You look troubled, young Weasley" said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.
"So do you."
"Ah. A matter of no importance ... it's not as though I really wanted to join… thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill the requirements'."
Despite his uncaring tone, Ron could sense a great deal of bitterness on his face.
"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 Ron, figuring out the ghost expected him to agree.
"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 …"
Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open all but shoved it in Ron's face.
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 fulfill our
requirements.
With very best wishes,
Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.
"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on! 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.
"So… what's bothering you? Anything I can do?"
"Nothing, really. Just… tired from detention with Snape."
"Ah. - nodded the ghost sagely - That seems a rather common complaint. Worry not, young Weasley. While Snape may seem like an insurmountable obstacle to you, I can assure you you will one day look back and laugh yourself silly thinking Snape was your biggest worry."
Ron nodded. His dad told him the same thing whenever he complained about the Potion professor, but hearing the same words from someone else made it seem… more real, somehow.
"Thanks, Nick. I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt." Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks and Ron walked right through him.
"But there is something you could do for me. - said Nick excitedly. - Ron... would I be asking too much… but no, you wouldn't want…"
"What is it?"
"Well, this Hallowe'en will be my five hundredth deathday. 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 if you would attend. Your friends would be most welcome too, of course… but I dare say you'd rather go to the school feast?"
"I mean… - said Ron tentatively - I think I can miss one feast, I guess."
"My dear boy! Living folks at my Deathday Party! And - he hesitated, looking excited - do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?"
Ron smiled.
"Of course."
Library, Hogwarts, 26th October 1992 (Monday)
"A Deathday Party?" asked Harry, unsure how to process that.
"I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those!" pointed out Hermione, excited.
"None that I know of. - commented Daphne, clearly skeptical about it - Or they didn't think to mention it. I wonder if there's a reason for it…"
"It'll be fascinating!"
The Slytherins eyed each other, not really convinced about Hermione's proclamation. If it was fascinating, surely someone would have made mention of it over the centuries…
"I don't get why anyone would want to celebrate the day they died." said Ron, still halfway through his Potions homework.
"For the same reason people celebrate their birthday, I think."
"It is a somewhat important event." agreed Theo
"So…are you coming? - asked Ron - I promised Nick I'd go, but you don't have to."
"We're going. It's one feast and it does sound interesting." decided Harry. Besides, ghosts were one of the few subjects that Sir Harold was interested to learn more about, he was sure his Domitor would appreciate his investigation.
Dungeons, Hogwarts, 31 October 1992 (Saturday)
The Deathday party was been… different than what Harry had expected.
The dungeon was packed full of ghosts, apparently coming from all over Europe, and all of them had been positively shocked when the group had made their appearance, but the shock quickly gave way to what Harry could only describe as stubborn denial mixed with an unhealthy amount of disgust. The ghosts went out of their way to leave the living by themselves, moving out of the way whenever they tried to approach someone and sending glares at them. The only exceptions were the Hogwarts ghosts, who joined them for bouts of polite conversation despite the Bloody Baron, the Fat Friar and the Grey Lady being obviously uncomfortable about their presence. Despite the hostility in the air, Harry managed to pick up a weird yet illuminating conversation between two ghosts dressed like English soldiers from WW1.
"Can you believe the gall? Inviting mortals to his Deathday party… The Hierarchy will throw a fit over this. We should march to the Seat of Burning Waters and report this to the Smiling Lord immediately!"
"Not much he can do… Hogwarts isn't part of Stygia. The Smiling Lord has no power here. Not even Lord Charon does"
"I don't care if they aren't part of the Legions! That moron Nicholas is breaking the Dictum Mortuum in every way possible! In our faces! It's like he's trying to insult everyone! Thinking he's better than everyone else… as if the Lost Kingdom of Avalon didn't have enough privileges already!"
"Hey, I'm just as pissed as anyone else. Nick keeps on bitching about being rejected from the Headless Hunt, but as soon as he gets an invitation to join the Legion of the Worthy he goes all 'Uuuh, but I can't control my Shadow that well… uuh, I'd only slow you down, uuuh', then pulls fucking stunts like this... fucking hypocritical. Five centuries he's going on about this nonsense… Just get your shit together and learn Moliate already! Or even better… serve a couple decades in the Legion, get someone from the Masquer guild to finally cut off his head and join the Headless Hunt without bitching about it every time he gets rejected!"
How interesting.
Harry wanted to ask more about what he just heard, but considering the way the other ghosts were treating them already, he decided it wasn't a good idea. Maybe he could ask Nick about this Legion business another time.
The group tried their best to mesh, but the more they tried to mingle, the more it became clear that a Deathday party wasn't exactly meant for the living. The music was, as Sally had put it, 'positively haunting'; the food… Well, there was a pretty wide selection of rotten fish, burned black bread, haggis infested with maggots, cheese covered in fuzzy green mold and, in clear display for everyone, there was an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone with tar-like icing that smelled like a slice of an ice cream cake after spending two weeks outside of the fridge.
The party completely changed tunes when Sir Patrick and the Headless Hunt made their appearance, disrupting the party and dragging everyone's attention away from the living to a series of admittedly quite impressive tricks using their own heads as props. No wonder Nick wanted to join the group. Harry's group soon said their goodbyes to Nick, thanking the dejected ghost of Nearly-Headless Nick for the invite and wished him a happy celebration and promptly left the room.
"That was the most awkward party I've ever been to." declared Ron.
"Yeah… it was like they didn't want us to be there." agreed Hermione.
"They didn't. - confirmed Harry - I overheard a couple of ghosts talking… There's some kind of rule against ghosts interacting with the living and some kind of Smiling Lord in charge of enforcing it, but Hogwarts gets special privileges for some reasons… They thought Nick invited us to show off how he's above the rules or something…"
"I didn't know there were rules for ghosts interacting with mortals. How interesting…" commented Theo, deep in thought.
"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen ghosts anywhere else… I wonder why Hogwarts has different rules." mentioned Hermione.
"Are you going to suggest a ghost studies club now?" asked Sally in a teasing tone.
Hermione chuckled. "No, we study ghosts in Ghoul studies."
"Well, we can think about it later. If we get to the Halloween feast, the pudding might not be finished yet" said Ron hopefully, leading the way towards the steps to the Entrance Hall.
And then Harry heard it.
"... rip ... tear ... kill …"
He stumbled to a halt, his ear pressed against the stone wall, listening at where he thought he heard the voice.
"Harry, what are you doing?"
"It's that voice again!"
"... soo hungry ... for so long …"
"Listen!" said Harry urgently, with Ron, Sally and Hermione looking around while Theo and Daphne pressed their ears against the wall.
"... kill ... time to kill …"
The voice was growing fainter, moving away… upwards. Upstairs!
"This way!"
He began to run towards the Entrance Hall, the babble of talk from the Halloween's feast echoing too loudly, covering any possible sound Harry might have picked up otherwise. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, the rest of the group clattering behind him. He hurtled around the whole of the second floor, not stopping until they turned a
corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" shouted Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything …"
"Look!"
Theo was pointing at something shining on the wall ahead. Foot-high words had been painted 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.
"What's that thing… hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.
All six of them realized what it was at once: Mrs Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. Her fur had turned rigid, and the color had dimmed, turning the pale orange into gray. For a few seconds, they didn't move.
Then, a rumble 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.
"We can't be caught here!" hissed Theo, rushing towards the closest classroom and opening the door.
As the loud talk of the students approached, the group rushed into the classroom, Theo and Ron pushing their weight to keep the door locked while Harry pushed his eye next to the keyhole, trying to figure out what was happening outside.
The chatter died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat.
Then, the familiar voice of Malfoy shouted through the quiet.
"'Enemies of the heir, beware!' You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
"That moron! - hissed Daphne, barely containing her anger - Now everyone will think Slytherins are the one responsible for this!"
"What's going on here? What's going on?"
Attracted by the mass of students hanging in the corridor for no apparent reason, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. When he saw Mrs Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.
"No! Mrs… What's happened to Mrs Norris?" he shrieked.
His eyes fell on a still smirking Malfoy. As soon as the caretaker's murderous glare fell on the boy, the smirk disappeared from his face.
"You! - he screeched. - You! You've murdered her! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll…"
"ARGUS!"
Dumbledore's voice snapped the man out of his murderous rage.
"Headmaster! This little…"
"Come with me, Argus - said Dumbledore, delicately picking up Mrs. Norris. - You too, Mr. Malfoy. It seems like you know something the rest of us doesn't. Everyone else, please follow your Prefects to your dormitories."
As people started to scramble around, Theo gently opened the door, allowing everyone to slip by.
"Phew. I thought someone would have noticed." commented Ron in a whisper.
"No wonder they didn't notice! Poor Mrs. Norris…" whispered back Daphne, pain evident in her voice.
"Oh, c'mon! It's just Filch's stupid cat. I bet there's plenty of people that'll cele…"
Ron didn't have the chance to finish the sentence that Daphne had turned, murderous glint in her eyes and slapped the redhead across the face with all the strength she could muster.
The echo of the slap carried over the corridor, causing many students to turn their heads.
"You… you…" stuttered Daphne, only for Sally to grab her arm and pull her away from a stunned Ron.
"I know, Daphne, I know. Let's just go, ok?" whispered Sally, sending her own death glare at the Gryffindor.
Theo shook his head.
"Weasley, you really shouldn't have said that."
"Said what?" asked Ron, hand massaging the spot where Daphne had struck him, shocked by the blonde's reaction.
"Mrs Norris isn't a cat, you idiot! She's a Maledictus! You know… like Astoria? Daphne's sister? Merlin's beard, you're dumb." Theo raised his hands in surrender, dragging Harry towards the dungeons with the rest of the Slytherins.
As the two were about to enter, they were stopped by Gemma Farley, the seventh year Slytherin prefect, stepping in front of the entrance to their common room.
"Potter. Nott. You two weren't at the banquet today."
There was no question, but the accusation was very much obvious. Had they done anything to Mrs. Norris?
"Theo, Sally, Daphne, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and I were invited to Nearly-Headless Nick's Deathday party."
The older girl nodded, moving to the side and allowing the two to pass through.
"Have you eaten?" she asked, now with a much kinder voice.
"We were hoping to get back to the feast, but…"
Gemma nodded.
"I'll ask the House elves to bring you two something for dinner. The pumpkin cake was great, I hope they have a few slices left for you."
Slytherin common room, Hogwarts, 1st November 1992 (Sunday)
That morning had been somewhat tense. During breakfast, Dumbledore had declared that Mrs Norris had been petrified, but none of the teachers had been able to break the spell that was affecting her. As a result, he had sent an owl to a friend in Belarus asking for a few Mandragoras to brew the Restorative draft needed to return Mrs Norris back to normal. Professors Sprout had decided to introduce Mandragoras in everyone's curriculum, despite them usually being sixth year material, while Professor Snape had done the same for the Mandragora Restorative draft, a potion he often only mentioned in passing due to its exceedingly niche use. Daphne was still mad at Ron, and the rest of the group had decided to keep the two separated until at least Monday, with the Slytherin spending the day in their common room reviewing and doing homework.
That had also given them the opportunity to corner the Bloody Baron and ask for some clarification on what they heard at the Deathday party.
"Good afternoon, Sir Baron. Do you have a moment?"
The ghost halted his advance, floating closer to the group.
"Good afternoon, kids. What can I help you with?"
"We were wondering about Sir Nick's Deathday party…" started Theo, before being interrupted by the ghost grimacing.
"Terribly sorry about that. Bringing a living guest to a Wraith party is a serious breach in ghostly etiquette. Sir Nicholas should have known better. I am so sorry you had to see such a shameful display, but I can assure you that we properly reprimanded him for his horrible mistake."
"Please, do not worry. It wasn't your fault. - said Harry - However, I couldn't help but overhear something that caught my curiosity… Something about a Legion and a Smirking Lord?"
"Smiling Lord, Mr. Potter? - asked the ghost with a certain apprehension - I… I wasn't aware there were representatives of the Grim Legion at the party."
"Grim Legion? - asked Harry in confusion - I thought they were from a… worthy Legion."
"Legion of the Worthy!? There were representatives of two Legions? - The ghost now looked positively mortified, before turning to the group with a clearly strained smile - Do not worry too much about it, Wraith politics can get quite convoluted and there is no real reason to learn about them while you're still alive."
"Wraith?" asked Theo
"Wraiths, ghosts… same thing. Nothing to worry about."
"We also heard that there is some kind of rule that prevents… Wraiths… from talking to us… is that true?" asked Sally
The Baron looked visibly uncomfortable at that.
"There is a… something similar to the Statute of Secrecy. But again, it's nothing for you to worry about. Just Wraith business, and it can be pretty tedious… I'll handle it."
"But how come you can speak with us? Doesn't that break the ghost equivalent of the Statute of Secrecy?" pressed on Daphne.
"They said something about Avalon having different rules… is that true?" pointed out Sally.
"We… uh… - stammered the Bloody Baron, trying to find his words. Harry could have sworn he saw a sweat drop on the ghost's forehead. - We are… Hogwarts' house ghosts. There are… uh… certain… uh… exceptions for us. But it's nothing for you to worry about, just Wraith politics and some old traditions. You'll learn about it when… if! Not when, if!... if you become a Wraith yourselves. Now, if you don't mind… I have to go."
Without waiting for a reply, the ghost flew upwards at full speed, disappearing into the ceiling.
Notes
Deathday party! Wraiths! Lore! I hope those of you that are fans of Wraiths are satisfied with what you saw, because it'll be a long time before you see anything WtO-related again (I think I already mentioned that it's my second to last favorite splat...).
For those who are confused, lemme give a short explanation: Wraiths are divided into Dark Kingdoms (Stygia being the European one, with some minor ones going a lot more specifics, like the Dark Kingdom of Barbed Wire for Holocaust victims) and Wraiths there serve into legions divided in how they die (Legion of the Worthy for those who died by a lawful order, Grim legion by victim of violence). Wraiths there serve in a war against othe creatures by using certain powers (like Moliate: the ability to alter a Wraith's appearance at will) while not being allowed to interract with the living because... honestly, if you wanna learn more, just get the book. It's a pretty interesting game, and even tho it can be quite challenging to play, it can pretty memorable. I prefer Changeling and Demon, but to each their own
What essentially happened is: Nick did a MAJOR oopsie by inviting livings and there will be consequences (mostly social) for him to pay... but at the same time everyone will try their best to keep everythinh hush-hush because the livings aren't supposed to know anything about the Dark Kingdoms. Just like last chapter, I'm not going to explore things too much (tough... I am considering having a couple scenes in Stygia in books 5 and 7, but I'm still a LONG time away from reaching that point, so i might scrap those scenes entirely), so if you wanna write your own story about it, feel free to do so, let me know and I'll put down a link to it.
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened! Just like in canon... except this time the group had the mind to not stand in front of the crime scene like a deer in headlights. Without a group of conveniently-placed students to act as primary suspects, everyone's suspicious fell towards Malfoy and his big mouth. Hope it makes sense to you
Miss Norris is a Maledictus! It's a pretty popular fan theory anyway and it makes a pretty good amount of sense, so I decided to make it canon. What is exactly a Maledictus curse in the WoD context? Well, for that you'll have to wait and see...