Chapter 291: A Head-Shaking Moment
Chapter 291: A Head-Shaking Moment
For a period after that incident, Kyle remained vigilant, but strangely, he never heard the mysterious, elderly whisper again. He even tried increasing his training intensity to tire himself out and pulled all-nighters, to no avail.
Perhaps he had really misheard that day.
About two weeks passed, and gradually, Kyle stopped thinking about it.
...
A few days before Halloween, on a windy and rainy Saturday evening, Kyle, who had just finished a Magic Club activity, almost bumped into someone...no, to be precise, a ghost, at the corner of a corridor.
Nearly Headless Nick.
The Gryffindor Tower ghost was gazing melancholically out the window, muttering to himself, "...doesn't meet their requirements...just half an inch short..."
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice someone was about to walk through him.
Until Kyle greeted him...
"Good day, Sir Popington."
Kyle preferred to address him this way, rather than by his other name. Ever since the last holiday, whenever he heard others call him 'Nick', Kyle would invariably think of that old man far away in Devonshire.
"Hello, hello."
Nearly Headless Ni- I mean, Nick, was startled, and after looking around, he finally spotted Kyle.
"Not many people call me that." His mood seemed to brighten a little, "You look tired, good for you...I mean, I can't even remember what being tired feels like anymore."
As he spoke, he folded up a transparent letter and tucked it into his shirt.
Strangely, although the letter was transparent, it seemed like real parchment, and once folded, nothing written on it could be seen.
"I can only say that feeling terrible, and you wouldn't want to remember it."
Kyle rubbed his forehead and changed the subject, "You seem to have something on your mind."
"Ah, it's nothing." The ghost waved an elegant, slender hand, "A trifle...It's not that I really want to join...I thought I could apply, but it looks like I...don't meet the requirements."
His tone was nonchalant, but his face revealed deep pain.
"Good day to you both...Kyle, oh, and Nick."
At that moment, Harry approached from not far away. He must have just finished Quidditch practice, as he was soaked and covered in mud.
"Is the badge not working?" Kyle asked.
"No, it's useful." Harry said, "But I accidentally fell into a mud pit while catching the Snitch. It fell off."
Harry took out the waterproof and moisture-proof badge, which still had a piece of cloth attached to it, torn from his robe.
"Looks like you had quite a fall."
Kyle took out his wand.
"Reparo."
The cloth with the badge returned to his robe as if it had never been torn.
"Thanks, Kyle. Hermione has been trying to get me to learn this spell lately...I think she's right."
Harry said happily, and then he looked at the ghost next to Kyle, "You seem to have something on your mind."
Being asked by two young wizards in a row, the Gryffindor ghost suddenly snapped.
"You tell me!"
He pulled out the letter from his pocket again and loudly complained about how the Headless Hunt had rejected his application.
"Look at this, we can only accept hunters whose heads are no longer attached to their bodies..."
He said angrily, "Just a little bit of skin and tendon connecting them, most people would think it's the same as being headless. But no, according to Sir Patrick, who is completely headless, this isn't enough."
Harry opened his mouth, unsure of how to comfort him, and could only say dryly, "I think you're qualified, really."
"Thanks...but they won't think so!"
"Sir Popington..." Kyle said thoughtfully, "In my opinion, you don't need to be fixated on joining the Headless Hunt."
"I'm not that eager to join...I just, out of boredom...applied for fun!" The ghost retorted.
"Alright, as you say." Kyle didn't expose him.
"Yes, Sir Popington," Kyle said. "I imagine you're quite well-known among the ghostly community."
"Hmm...I do have quite a few friends," Nick admitted.
"In fact, this Halloween marks the 500th anniversary of my death, and I already have over a hundred ghosts confirmed to attend."
He said this with a proud expression, indicating that this was quite a substantial number.
"Then you're all set," Kyle laughed. "You can announce the formation of your own hunt at that time and have them help with publicity to increase your fame."
"But...what about the activities?"
Nick hesitated, "As much as I hate to admit it, I really can't do the head-juggling or head-mounted polo that they do, and my appearance isn't very scary."
"You can develop your own activities," Kyle suggested. "There's no need to copy them; you have your own advantages."
"My...advantages?"
"That's right," Kyle thought for a moment. "For example, you can spin your head like a propeller; they can't do that."
As he spoke, Kyle conjured a stone attached to a rope and swung it around in his hand a couple of times.
"Just like this..."
"You can also find a nearly headless mount and spin together. If you can make some sounds or pull some faces during the process, that would be even better."
Nearly Headless Nick stared, as if he had discovered a new world. He then floated up to Harry and asked, "Do you think that would be scary if I did that?"
Harry looked at the stone swinging in Kyle's hand and then at the head in front of him. An image immediately popped into his mind, and he subconsciously scrunched up his face.
It was too beautiful...the image was so captivating that it would keep him up all night! But Nearly Headless Nick was thrilled.
"Oh, wonderful! That's the expression I want! This is a brilliant idea; Sir Patrick Bode will be stunned if he sees it. Hah! Why didn't I think of this before?"
He floated excitedly in the air.
"If you can, I'd like you both to come to my..."
"Meow..." A sharp, piercing meow from near Harry's ankle drowned out the rest of his sentence.
"It's Mrs. Norris," Kyle said, glancing at Harry and the long trail of mud behind him.
"You'd better get going. Someone's cauldron exploded in Potions today, and the potion splattered everywhere. Filch has been cleaning all morning. If he sees you dripping mud everywhere..."
"You're right," Harry said, preparing to run up to the common room. But it was too late.
He had only taken a couple of steps when Filch burst out from behind a tapestry, huffing and puffing.
His head was wrapped in a thick, checkered scarf, and his nose was abnormally red, indicating he had a cold.
"That's it!" he shouted, pointing at the mud dripping from Harry's Quidditch robes. "It's a mess everywhere! I've had enough! Potter, come with me!"
Harry sighed gloomily and followed Filch down the stairs, leaving another trail of muddy footprints on the floor.
"That way leads to Filch's office," Nick said. "He's probably trying to make an example out of Harry. We have to help him. I remember there's a large cabinet in the storeroom. If we drop it on Filch's office ceiling, it should divert his attention."
"A large cabinet?" Kyle whispered. "Where's the storeroom?"
"No, you mustn't go; it'll cause trouble," the ghost said, half his body merging into the wall. "I'll go find Peeves. He's the most suitable candidate for this."
"Wait..."
Before Kyle could finish his sentence, the ghost had vanished.
"That was a bit too hasty."
Looking at the empty corridor, Kyle thought for a moment, then turned and ran toward the second floor.
(End of Chapter)
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