Finding The Light

The Party Invitation (edited)

October arrived, along with a lot of colds and flu and my complete control over changing any part and colour of my body – it was great fun though i still lost it when i got angry or upset.

The weather was horrible, especially when it came to quidditch practice. Harry and I traipsed back up to the school late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud. I had been messing round as a "rival seeker" to help them out with training. It was a wonder how easily i fit in with Gryffindor and yet i was somehow a Slytherin.

We squelched along the deserted corridor and came across nearly Headless Nick staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath.

". . . don't fulfil their requirements . . . half an inch, if that . . ."

"Hello, Nick," Harry greeted.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking round. "You look troubled, young Potter, little Sparrow."

"So do you," I said though to be honest i could have really cared less, i was tired, hungry and wet.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "A matter of no importance. . . . It's not as though I really wanted to join. . . . Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfil requirements' -" In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great 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," Harry agreed, glancing at me unsure. I shrugged, unsure myself as I had no idea what a headless hunt was.

"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 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 very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away, which i found most fascinating as i didn't realise ghosts could have pockets being non-corporeal and all.

"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 Thousand and Ones for our match against Sly -"

The rest of Harry's sentence was drowned out by a high-pitched mewling from somewhere near his ankles. I looked down and glared at Mrs. Norris.

"You'd better get out of here, Harry," said Nick quickly. "Filch isn't in a good mood - he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place -"

"Right," said Harry, but we didn't get away fast enough.

"Filth!" Filch shouted, "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter! Sparrow!"