Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 289 Peeves and Horcruxes

Thousands of shimmering ribbons, like rainbows hanging down, and thousands of bats flitted about in the dark clouds formed by the magical dome. A poster of the famous Skull Band was pasted below the school rules board in the lobby; they would be giving a grand performance tonight.

Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head just listening.

but----

Thinking of Nick, who was almost headless, and who was probably eagerly waiting for them to come over, Harry really couldn't bear to actually stand him up.

Hermione said seriously, "We must keep our promise!"

But Ron believes that Miss Know-It-All is simply driven by curiosity.

"She just wanted to see what a ghost party was like. We shouldn't have listened to her nonsense. It turns out that whatever Hermione is interested in is mostly things that normal people can't accept!"

Unfortunately, Ron's complaints could not sway Harry's conscience.

As night fell, the trio walked against the flow of the bustling crowd, who headed towards the hall where firelight and laughter converged, while they reluctantly ventured deeper into the castle.

The location where Nick Fury, who was almost headless, held his death anniversary party is in the basement of the main tower of the castle, namely the Slytherin Dungeon. There are many buildings under Hogwarts, and the Slytherin Dungeon is only a small part of them.

Over the long years, many underground areas have been abandoned and are usually sealed off with magic, preventing anyone from entering.

Even ghosts won't do!

Therefore, Nick had no choice but to approach Snape, the head of Slytherin House, and ask him to spare a few classrooms for the party.

"To be honest, when almost headless Nick told me that Snape had generously granted his request, I thought the sun had risen in the west."

As they walked up the dark stairs toward the Slytherin dungeons, Ron said sarcastically, "That old bat didn't even try to extort money from Nick."

"Ronald!"

Hermione glared at Ron, but she was too lazy to say anything more. Last night's experience made her realize that the conflict between Professor Snape and Harry was far more complicated and troublesome than she had thought.

It's not as simple as just distinguishing right from wrong between the two sides.

Harry didn't say anything. He knew Hermione didn't like him clashing with Snape, and he also knew that Snape wasn't actually bad to him.

However, it's true that the other party harbored ill intentions towards him. He had been thinking about this while doing his homework today and finally realized that Nick Fury, who was almost headless, had chosen the Slytherin dungeon as the location for the anniversary party, and that Peeves throwing medicine at them was probably all Snape's conspiracy!

The other party just wants to find fault with him and punish him!

Harry stopped thinking about that annoying guy and looked around the passageway leading to the dungeon. This wasn't a restricted area, and candles were lit in the passageway to celebrate the holiday.

But it looked really shabby. The candles were thin and small. Whether it was due to magic or the material itself, the flames of the candles were blue. When the air currents created by the three of them made them sway, the blue light mixed with shadows, making it look even more sinister and making the dark and damp underground even colder.

No, the chill is not just about the atmosphere.

As they approached the dungeon, the temperature dropped rapidly. Hermione, noticing this, breathed out a puff of air, which quickly condensed into a cloud of smoke in the cold environment.

"Merlin's stockings—" Ron looked utterly desperate. "How many ghosts did that nearly headless Nick summon? They're affecting the environment!"

Harry suddenly remembered when he first enrolled last year, when Nick was almost headless, and the fat monk and the others played a prank on him and the other new students by deliberately passing through their bodies.

The feeling of being passed through by a ghost is terrible, like a lump of ice brushing past your heart, causing your heart to clench, as if all the flesh and blood in your body are convulsing.

That felt awful.

And now, the place they're heading to might be filled with dozens, or even hundreds, of large ice floes—

"Is it too late for me to regret it?"

Harry asked Hermione and Ron with a long face.

Before the two could answer, he knew it was too late, because a cold wind suddenly blew from the corner of the passageway ahead, and Nick, a milky white, semi-transparent, almost headless figure, floated over from that direction, his enthusiastic welcome audible from afar.

Although the voice sounded melancholic: "Ah, Harry, Ron, Hermione, my dear friends, welcome to my death anniversary party!"

He embraced each of the three men with a mixture of sadness and joy, causing them to instinctively shiver.

Nick, completely oblivious to this, continued to invite them in a contradictory tone, both melancholic and enthusiastic: "Come on, kids, everyone's almost here! I bet you'll never see so many ghosts anywhere else. It's going to be really lively down there, you'll love it."

The trio exchanged a glance, then reluctantly followed Nick around the corner, pushed open a wooden door, and the first sound that rushed out made them all go dark.

It was a very harsh sound, like fingernails scraping against a blackboard.

Of course, the sound was actually produced by a musical instrument—made of bone—a skeleton that looked very eerie in the blue firelight, playing a violin with deep emotion through a bone plate that resembled a human spine.

Around it, the huge underground classroom had been transformed into a dance floor, densely packed with countless milky-white ghosts, who were wading around in the dance floor, dancing a waltz to the ear-piercing music that sounded like sawing wood!

The trio stared in disbelief, only the thicker white mist surrounding their mouths and noses indicating that they were still alive.

Hermione also began to regret it.

"I feel like I've walked into a refrigerator." The girl's lips trembled as she felt her limbs losing temperature at a perceptible rate.

Nick, who was almost headless, finally noticed their strange behavior.

"Good heavens, I forgot you're alive!" He tilted his head in surprise, revealing the writhing wound on his neck. "Sorry, children, perhaps you should go and warm yourself by the fire. The dining table is over there by the fireplace; you can have some caramel chocolate or something."

In a short time, the trio, whose feet were already numb from the cold, accepted the proposal.

Watching Nick leave, Harry forced a smile: "See, it's not too bad, at least there's still food."

"Hurry up, I just want to warm up!" Ron urged, while also reminding everyone, "Be careful not to walk through anyone's body, or you'll definitely freeze."

In fact, he didn't need to remind them. Feeling the temperature around them and looking at the ghosts that drifted by, bringing with them a chill, only a fool would want to approach them.

As Nick said, there were a lot of ghosts today, and the dance floor was "crowded," so the three of them could only walk slowly around the dance floor.

Most of the ghosts I passed looked familiar.

For example, the fat monk from Hufflepuff, with his round belly protruding, was telling a strange ghost about his cause of death, speaking as casually as if he were talking about his birth: "—They tied me up and threw me into the river, yes, those cardinals from Rome—of course they didn't burn me or stab me. Do you know why I was killed? Because I cured the serfs of smallpox and even performed for those cardinal fools how to walk through fire and not die. What a pity! I thought that performing this fire-walking act would allow me to impersonate a prophet and don a cardinal's robe, but they just killed me. Not becoming a cardinal has become my obsession."

The fat monk was both smug and regretful.

Strange ghost: "————"

Harry and his two companions were also somewhat speechless.

They also saw Barrow, the Blood Man, a ghost from Slytherin. He was so conspicuous that all the other ghosts around him looked gloomy and unhappy, while he, covered in silver bloodstains, looked fierce and menacing, as if he would suddenly burst into a murder at any moment.

Harry noticed that Barrow the Blood was staring menacingly at a female ghost.

However, when he whispered it to Ron and Hermione, Hermione countered his idea: "That's Lady Grey from Ravenclaw. I think Barrow the Bloody must be in love with her."

"----ah?"

Do ghosts fall in love?

Harry was noncommittal about Hermione's statement; he was more inclined to believe that Barrow the Bloodman had ill intentions, and that even a wicked fellow like Peeves was afraid of Barrow!

But he wasn't in the mood for that right now; he just wanted to warm himself by the fire and eat some dessert.

After finally making their way across the dance floor and reaching the other corner of the classroom, the trio's vision went black again when they saw the fireplace and dining table.

The fire in the fireplace was as blue as a candle, with no heat to be felt. It wasn't even celestial fire, but rather some kind of ethereal light and shadow whose nature had been altered.

As for the dining table—

"vomit"

Upon seeing the things on the table, Ron gagged.

There was indeed food piled up there, but that only represents the past. Now, it's completely rotten. The chunks of meat in the pretty plates have long since decayed and changed color, with a gruesome green juice oozing from the swollen flesh, emitting a foul stench.

There was also cheese covered in green mold and soup bowls filled with foam but no soup.

There was only a gray cake shaped like a tombstone, which looked edible, with a few lines of text written on it in burnt caramel:

Happy 500th anniversary of his death!

Sir Nicholas de Minsey-Poppinton died on October 31, 1492. "So Nick really has been dead for five hundred years—"

Ron belatedly muttered to himself.

Uh, is now the time to focus on this?

Harry sighed in frustration, both for his own foolishness and recklessness, and for the foreseeable painful times to come.

Then, a piece of chocolate was handed to him.

Harry looked up in surprise—it was Hermione!

The little girl's lips curled up, her eyes smug. She patted the small handbag beside her: "Vaughn knew we were coming to the Ghost Party, so he specially asked me to bring this. But it only contains chocolates and candies that are easy to store."

Harry didn't mind at all; at a time like this, what more could he want?

He quickly took it and swallowed it with Ron in a few bites, feeling the rich chocolate melt in their mouths and slide smoothly into their stomachs, where the sugar and cocoa butter gradually released heat.

He sighed, "You're alive! Thank you, Hermione, and Vaughn!"

Ron's freckles turned red with happiness: "Why didn't you take it out sooner? I almost cried when I saw the dining table."

, 7

Hermione rolled her eyes, about to say something.

A ghost floated over and sank directly into the table covered with stinking food. It opened its mouth wide, glancing over the rotten and moldy meat and desserts, then shook its head as if it were tasting something delicious.

Hermione paused, staring at him expectantly.

The ghost felt a chill run down its spine under her gaze: "You, cough, what are you looking at?"

"Were you eating something just now?" Hermione asked excitedly. "Did you actually eat something, or did you just smell it? What did it feel like?"

The ghost's expression changed drastically when asked the question. Just as he was about to speak, a large, orange-red head suddenly emerged from his chest.

It's Mischievous Ghost!

Unlike the pale, transparent ghosts, its attire tonight looks very festive and vibrant. The orange-red on its huge head is a fiery orange-red top hat, and its dress is similar in style, looking like a red lantern hanging in mid-air, except that this red lantern has a wide-open mouth and a wicked grin on its face.

Upon seeing it, Harry immediately instinctively stepped in front of Hermione.

Yesterday, it was this guy who sprinkled a huge amount of processed medicinal powder and juice on them, causing them to not only be scolded by Snape, but also spend a long time cleaning up after returning to the Gryffindor Tower in the morning.

But Peeves didn't make a move. It emerged from the ghost's chest, giggled, and whispered in the ghost's ear, "Miss Granger is being sarcastic, can't you tell?"

"I don't----"

"She does, all wizards know that ghosts have no feelings. You poor things, you're left in this world because of your obsessions, suffering every day. You've been deprived of your sense of taste and touch, your eyes have lost their color, and everything you hear sounds like a wail. You're in such a miserable state, and she's still mocking you!"

The ghost's expression grew increasingly fierce as Pipi Ghost spoke to it.

The temperature plummeted as a result, and frost visibly radiated outwards from him.

"How dare you! Mocking me?"

Faced with the enraged ghost, the trio was both angry and anxious, but there was nothing they could do. They weren't Vaughn, who could use magic on ghosts.

Seeing the three of them at a loss, Pipi Ghost clutched his stomach, rolled around in mid-air, and laughed loudly.

Just then, Harry had a sudden inspiration and quickly yelled towards Barrow, "Barrow, Peeves called you a toad!"

With that shout, the swirling ghosts in the dance floor, the jarring music like sawing wood, suddenly stopped, and Pippi's happy laughter also abruptly ceased.

Not far away, Barrow, a blood-man whose body was covered in silver blood, slowly turned his head numbly and coldly to look at Pipi Ghost.

Mischievous Ghost was stunned for a moment, then flew into a rage: "I didn't! He's slandering me! He's defaming me!"

Only magic can defeat magic.

Harry continued yelling, "Peeves says you're in love with Lady Grey? You're a toad lusting after a swan!"

Swish!

All the onlookers turned their gazes to the other side, to Ms. Grey, who appeared serene and aloof, as if bathed in moonlight.

Ms. Gray, who was inexplicably mentioned, frowned in disgust and disappeared into the floor.

Seeing her disappear, Blood Man Barrow's expression grew even more somber. He finally stood up and slowly walked over.

Enraged and flustered, Peeves unleashed a torrent of abuse at Harry, Ron, and Hermione: "Damn Potter, redhead, and Mudblood! I was just making fun of you, and you dare to slander me like this! Just you wait, just you wait—"

His mouth suddenly sealed shut, twitched a few times, then returned to normal, as if some inexplicable force had swallowed a sentence: "—You're all dead, you all have to die. Grandpa Mischievous Ghost will personally tear you to pieces!"

After saying that, it turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared into the floor.

However, it couldn't escape. Blood Man Barrow also seemed to walk into a swamp, its hideous ghostly body sinking into the floor as well.

After the two parties left, the once-silent underground classroom was suddenly filled with chatter. The atmosphere, which had been filled with sorrow and resentment, seemed to have been diluted by the fresh gossip. The jarring music stopped playing, and the skeleton musician, like everyone else, whispered among themselves, gossiping.

Nick arrived and calmed the enraged ghost, who was also bewildered by the sudden turn of events. Then he reassured Harry and the others, "Sorry, kids, I told you we shouldn't have invited Peeves, but the fat monk just wanted to give him a chance to fit in. Sigh—"

"Because of Peeves's mischief, the Ghost Party that followed was rather lackluster—although Harry, Harry, and their friends were never really into it anyway—"

In short, despite various problems, Nick's 500th death anniversary came to a satisfactory conclusion.

After saying goodbye to Nick, who looked sad, was moved to tears, and spoke with great enthusiasm and cheerfulness, Harry walked out of the underground classroom and breathed in the humid air again. He felt as if he had been reborn.

"I will never participate in any activities related to ghosts again."

Harry said to Ron and Hermione with lingering fear, "If it weren't for Vaughn's chocolates, I bet we would have frozen halfway there. The dead and the living really can't be together."

Ron scoffed, "I warned you from the beginning, and I seriously doubt you can stick to your current ideas. Didn't you agree to Nick's request because you felt sorry for it and took pity on it?"

"I swear, absolutely not. But Hermione—Hermione?"

Harry then noticed that Hermione had been following behind them without saying a word, seemingly lost in thought.

After being called a few times, Hermione came to her senses. Ignoring their conversation, she frowned slightly and asked, "Tell me, what exactly did Peeves say when it cursed us?"

"what?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other in bewilderment.

"I don't mean the swearing it used, but the few sentences it uttered when its mouth was suddenly sealed shut."

Ron dismissed it: "Didn't you ask Nick back then? What did he say—a contract? Peeves might have signed some kind of magical contract that prevents it from saying anything too malicious or something."

"You really believe that?" Hermione glanced at him. "Besides, Peeves's swearing is awful enough, how much more vicious can it get? Why bother signing some kind of contract to block its speech? And besides, who did it sign the contract with?"

Ron was speechless, a little unconvinced: "Then what do you think it could be?"

'

Hermione paused for a moment. "I think when it cursed us to die, it wasn't an insult, but rather a statement of fact. Putting everything together, do you think—is it trying to say that something will happen, and we'll all die, and it will personally tear us to pieces?"

"Moreover, this incident could very well be part of a larger conspiracy. The few words that Peeves uttered while his mouth was gagged might be the details of a conspiracy that the mastermind made with him, preventing him from revealing it?"

Harry and Ron were a little confused.

Isn't this a bit too far-fetched?

What kind of event could cause everyone to die? What are Hogwarts and Dumbledore?

Before the two could object, Hermione said in a serious tone, "That diary!"

"Well?"

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Professor Snape took the diary, so how did it get lost? And how did it end up in Colin Crevy's hands? It couldn't have been Crevy who stole it, could it? He doesn't have an invisibility cloak!"

Harry then realized, "You suspect Peeves is Creepy's accomplice?"

Hermione nodded, then emphasized, "To be precise, Peeves and Creepy are both puppets of the notebook. They were bewitched by it, which is why the diary mysteriously disappeared. Therefore, the one who made the contract with Peeves is—"

Diary!

Harry, of course, hadn't forgotten that malicious object. He turned pale and almost immediately believed Hermione's theory.

His lips trembled slightly. "What... what should we do?"

Is a dark magic artifact, or one he brought into Hogwarts, brewing a massive conspiracy? Will the conspiracy result in everyone's death?

Harry admitted that he was terrified!

Ron also looked quite frightened.

Hermione, who had made the deduction, didn't seem anxious at all. Instead, she comforted the two of them, saying, "Let's go back to the tower first and get some rest tonight. Tomorrow we can find Vaughn, or Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, or Professor Snape—this isn't something we can handle, Harry."

"Get some rest? How should I rest?"

Harry thought Hermione's suggestion was outrageous. Although she was right that this was not something they could solve, he was already preoccupied with something on his mind and couldn't sleep at all.

The three of them returned to the Gryffindor Tower.

Many people in the common room were still playing around, seemingly not yet recovered from the unrestrained joy of the dinner party, and no one noticed Harry's worried expression.

Harry wasn't in the mood to pay attention to how much fun they had tonight.

Back in his dorm, he said to Ron with deep regret, "I really didn't expect that diary would cause so much trouble. If I could go back in time, I would definitely—phew—"

Mr. Harry Potter, who had confidently declared that he couldn't sleep, was overwhelmed by the exhaustion of staying up all night and drifted off to sleep restlessly before he could finish his sentence.

Meanwhile, on the bed next to Harry's, Ron, who had also said he was absolutely worried and couldn't sleep, fell asleep even earlier than Harry.

Only Hermione, who had seemed the most carefree before, actually tossed and turned in bed for a long time, feeling more and more uneasy the longer she lay there.

She finally couldn't resist getting up, putting on her clothes, casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself, and walking out of the Gryffindor Tower.

Amidst the fat lady's discontented grumbling, Hermione stepped into the dark corridor. She tapped her armor lightly a few times, the crisp tinkling sound carrying far through the silent corridor.

Soon, a huge cat climbed in through the window, its amber eyes staring at her.

It's fruit tea.