A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 31 Ghost Gathering (Part 2)

"Oh, Merlin's beard! It's been over three hundred years, hasn't it? Our gatherings haven't had a living person for over three hundred years..."

The Gryffindor ghost cried out cheerfully, "Welcome! I mean, of course you're welcome!"

"Hello, Sir Nicholas." Owen nodded to him, then greeted the blood-soaked Barrow, who was silently floating in the corner, "Hello, Sir Barrow."

The Gryffindor ghost twirled twice in the air, perhaps because he was finally being called "Sir Nicholas" instead of "Nick the Nearly Headless." Although the students meant no harm in calling him that, "Nick the Nearly Headless" had been his greatest pain for five hundred years... How he wished his head could be removed intact from his neck.

Irving's arrival enlivened the otherwise lifeless ghost gathering. Many ghosts who rarely interacted with students were happy to come over and say hello, curious to see what this little guy who dared to attend the ghost gathering was like.

In the blink of an eye, Owen was surrounded by silvery-white ghosts, making him feel the temperature drop even lower. He had to move cautiously to avoid passing through one of the ghosts' bodies.

Almost all the ghosts welcomed Owen's arrival, probably hoping that this deathly gathering would be given a little more of a living atmosphere. Only a few ghosts lingered outside, seemingly indifferent to everything.

After the welcome party, which was neither too long nor too short, Owen found a chair and sat down, watching with great interest as the ghosts flew around and discussed some random things.

Not far from him sat a short, plump ghost girl with a melancholy face behind thick glasses. After meeting Owen's curious gaze for a moment, her silvery-white cheeks turned milky white, and she screamed before burying her head in the desk.

"Are you Myrtle?" Owen asked.

The ghost girl suddenly popped out from under the desk, half of her body still inside. She stared straight at Owen, tears welling up in her small, clear eyes: "You know my name!" she said, nervously cupping her cheeks.

Irving gave an awkward but polite smile, then looked away and listened attentively to the ghosts' discussion.

The ghosts, who have existed for an incredibly long time, mostly discussed mundane matters. For example, they might discuss when a certain ghost's death anniversary party would be held, how many people would be invited, or who was going to a certain place for a particular gathering. Aside from that, they spent most of their time discussing how to deal with the annoying Pikachu.

Peeves, as a special kind of ghost, can touch not only physical objects but also other ghosts. Peeves enjoys playing pranks on students and the castle caretaker, and also enjoys causing trouble for the ghosts of Hogwarts. He is almost universally hated among ghosts, with only the gentle, fat monk willing to speak up for him.

The ghosts offered various suggestions one after another, only to have them rejected one by one. After half a day, they hadn't come up with any useful solutions, but most of the ghosts seemed quite engrossed. Ms. Gray floated beside Owen with her arms crossed, watching the scene with a cold and arrogant expression, offering no comment.

"That's what ghosts are like. In the long, boring hours, even just killing time becomes something interesting," she said softly to Owen.

Owen nodded slightly. He wasn't a ghost, so he couldn't understand some of their psychology.

By the time the ghosts finished their conversation, it was nearly midnight. Owen finally had a chance to stand up and make his request, while secretly stretching his frozen legs under his desk.

"That fax machine? I know it. Lots of little ones have been looking for it lately," the fat monk said in a lively, cheerful tone. "Quite a few children have asked me to help them find it."

"That's right, I saw it last night. I heard it's a kind of... well, machine from the Muggle world." Nick, who was almost headless, nodded.

Owen clapped his hands lightly, a charming smile on his face. "For some reason..." He hesitated, then continued, "I desperately need an answer to a question. So, I thought of the most knowledgeable and well-informed group at Hogwarts..."

"Of course, I'm willing to help you," Myrtle said hesitantly. "If you die someday, I can allow you to use the same toilet as me..." After saying that, she suddenly covered her cheeks and disappeared into the wall.

"It doesn't matter, I'll keep an eye out for you," a knight with an arrow stuck in his forehead said casually.

Most of the ghosts gave a vague response. They wouldn't go out of their way to search for it, but if they saw it, they'd probably remember to tell Owen.

But Irving wants more than just that.

To get someone's full help, you naturally have to give something in return. And for ghosts who have existed for an incredibly long time, who cannot touch physical objects, and who have lost their magic and senses of taste and smell, what interests them is nothing more than the fun of interacting with people, as well as intangible things like reputation, prestige, and a sense of accomplishment.

Just like Nick, who almost lost his head, dreamed of joining the Headless Hunters, some popular ghost bands always have many ghosts wanting to join, and several very famous ghosts have a large number of ghost fans...

"I didn't expect you all to be so eager to help me," Owen said, looking touched. "Then I should do my best to repay you... Ah, how about this, I wonder if you'd be interested in hosting an unprecedented ghost festival at Hogwarts?"

"Well, I've always had a great fondness and curiosity for ghosts, so I've become acquainted with Sir Francis, Sir Stuart, and Lady Elizabeth." Owen crossed his fingers over his chest, silently observing the ghosts' excited expressions, his smile deepening slightly.

"You...you know them?" Nick screamed, nearly headless. "They're the most famous figures among the ghosts! And they live a very secluded life, they haven't shown themselves in public for a long time..."

Irving nodded reservedly, then said seriously, "I can try to invite them over. Of course, I can't say for sure, as it mainly depends on their willingness... but I promise I will do my best to repay you for your help."

"I think if such a party could be held at the school, Hogwarts would definitely become the center of all the ghosts in the country!" Owen's tone was inciting and tempting.

Listening to Owen's persuasive words, the ghosts were filled with longing and excitedly flew around in the air. There were so many ghosts in the country, scattered all over the land, and Hogwarts was just one of their gathering places. But if Hogwarts could become the center, the holy place, then the ghosts, as its masters, would see their status and reputation greatly enhanced.

This is one of the few things that can still be tempting to them.

"Please give me some time, after all, I need to consult their opinions and coordinate their schedules," Irving then said apologetically.

"Of course, don't force yourself, child," the fat monk said calmly and gently.

Ms. Grey stared at Owen thoughtfully, finding him increasingly mysterious. Barrow, the Blood Man, maintained a somber expression throughout, his blank eyes fixed on the floor, daring not to meet Ms. Grey's gaze. Nick, nearly headless, was ecstatic, like a fan eager to meet their idol.

"Go ahead and do it. It's okay if you can't get them to come." Nick reached out and patted Owen on the shoulder, but his arm ended up in Owen's chest. "Don't waste your time on the fax machine; we're experts at finding things!"

Owen felt as if a pot of ice water had been poured into his chest, and he couldn't help but shiver, goosebumps rising on his skin. He nodded and tightened his cloak.

The ghost gathering finally ended amidst the ghosts' eager anticipation. After saying goodbye to the ghosts, Owen strode quickly down the dark corridor toward the lounge.

"Phew, finally done. Hopefully I won't mess it up," he chuckled.

(End of this chapter)