153 Deathday party pt.2

Thinking that he should probably wait for Filch to come back, Harry sank into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. There was only one thing on it apart from his half-completed form: a piece of large, glossy jewel. Harry picked it up knowing what exactly it was, a piece of Lockhart's clothing he wore that day in the fight.

He picked it up remembering the scene, which couldn't help but made him feel a bit depressed. Draco who was already a known genius was way too powerful than he expected him to be. He had indeed heard all the rumors and read all the newspapers but seeing those power displayed right in front of him was something extravagant. And that wasn't it at all, Lockhart who he thought was a weak no-good wizard was far better than him. Seeing someone like Lockhart so strong made him feel very weak. He felt lost.

Even though he knew there wasn't any good coming off of comparing himself with someone like Draco or an adult wizard like Lockhart, he knew what he was doing wasn't enough. Harry remembered Dumbledore telling him the fact that Voldemort was still out there, which made him feel more scared. He didn't want to rely on others every time something happened. Even though he was young didn't mean he wasn't allowed to get strong, Draco was a living example of it.

'Maybe, if Draco was in my place he...' Just as Harry was getting lost in his thought he suddenly heard shuffling footsteps outside which told him Filch was coming back. Not wanting to get in trouble for it, Harry threw the piece of jewel back onto the desk just as the door opened.

Filch was looking triumphant.

"That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!" he was saying gleefully to Mrs. Norris. "We'll have Peeves out this time, my sweet —"

His eyes fell on Harry and then darted to the table, which, Harry realized was too late, the jewel was lying two feet away from where it had started. Filch's pasty face went brick red. Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. Filch hobbled across to his desk, but unlike what he expected Filch went for the purple envelope which was far from the table and snatched it up, and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you — did you read —?" he sputtered.

"No," Harry said quickly.

Filch's knobbly hands were twisting together."If I thought you'd read my private —not that it's mine — for a friend — be that as it may — however —"

Harry was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his pouchy cheeks, and the tartan scarf didn't help.

"Very well — go — and don't breathe a word — not that — however, if you didn't read — go now, I have to write up Peeves' report — go —"

Amazed at his luck, Harry sped out of the office, up to the corridor, and back upstairs. To escape from Filch's office without punishment was probably some kind of school record.

"Harry! Harry! Did it work?"

Nearly Headless Nick came gliding out of a classroom. Behind him, Harry could see the wreckage of a large black-and-gold cabinet that appeared to have been dropped from a great height.

"I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filch's office," said Nick eagerly. "Thought it might distract him —"

"Was that you?" said Harry gratefully. "Yeah, it worked, I didn't even get detention. Thanks, Nick!"

They set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Nick, Harry noticed, was still holding Sir Patrick's rejection letter…

"I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt," Harry said. Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks and Harry walked right through him. He wished he hadn't; it was like stepping through an icy shower.

"But there is something you could do for me," said Nick excitedly. "Harry — would I be asking too much — but no, you wouldn't want —"

"What is it?" said Harry.

"Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.

"Oh," said Harry, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. "Right."

"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. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome, too, of course — but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?" He watched Harry on tenterhooks.

"No," said Harry quickly, "I'll come —"

"My dear boy! Harry Potter, 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?"

"Of-of course," said Harry.

Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him.

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"A deathday party?" said Hermione keenly when Harry had changed at last and joined her and Ron in the common room. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those — it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy. "Sounds dead depressing to me…"

"Hey Harry can I bring Draco and the others as well?"

"Why?" Ron said looking back at her. "I mean isn't it boring to bring someone to such a party. We don't even know how they are celebrating it."

Hermione knew that Draco was leaving for Durmstrang after Halloween. It was a secret so she couldn't mention it to Ron and Harry. Since the party was going to be held just the night before, Hermione wanted Draco to be there as they weren't going to meet again for another 6 months. Maybe it was a bit selfish for her to ask Draco that but since they didn't have much time left, she wanted to at least celebrate Halloween with him.

"Sure, it wouldn't be a problem I suppose." Harry agreed to it, "I am sure Nick would be delighted to have him there as well. Especially since he is quite famous after the duel and all."

The rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had "rescued" the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smoldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

Harry was at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly around the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the envelope from Harry's mind.

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"So you're going away, huh!" Theodore said lazily as he had already expected it.

"You knew?" Draco said as he looked at Theodore.

"Not all the stuff but I knew you were hiding something." Theodore said, "And you're really not that good at hiding things."

"So you aren't mad?"

"Nope! I guess a bit of trust can't hurt especially when you went through such a long route just so you could hide it from us." Theodore said, "I am just happy you told it a week before you're leaving."

"So what's going to happen to the club?" Daphne asked as the members of the club sitting around looked curiously at Draco as well.