Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 201. Death Anniversary Party and the Miraculous Healer Harry

“You can’t say that,” Hermione shook her head. “I think Nick is actually quite concerned about his death… It can’t feel good to have been chopped forty-four times on the neck with a blunt axe.”

"What are you talking about?" Ron and Sirius, who had already washed themselves, came down together.

“We were talking about the anniversary party,” Neville replied casually. “To be honest, I’m a little skeptical about the ghosts’ tastes—they can’t eat human food, can they? So Nick’s celebration is really suitable for us?”

“Oh, Neville,” Ron said nonchalantly as he sat down. “Don’t worry, Harry is a professor now. He can have the house-elves in the kitchen bring him food anytime. As long as we’re still at Hogwarts, we’ll never lack food.”

Ron had enjoyed this professorial privilege many times before.

In Harry's name.

"A death anniversary party?" Sirius said with a strange expression, "You're going to a ghost's banquet?"

“Yes, Nick invited us,” Harry asked astutely. “What? You participated too?”

“No, not at all,” Sirius shook his head, his expression suggesting he was barely suppressing a laugh. “But I know what ghosts like, well, you’re going to have a wonderful night.”

"...Your expression is practically telling us there's a trap here," Hermione said, exasperated. "Sirius, are you up to another prank?"

“How could that be?” Sirius said with a serious face. “I think it’s very meaningful for you to experience many different things while you’re young. You know, not every place is like Hogwarts with so many ghosts.”

That makes sense, but Sirius Black practically had "I have no intention of doing anything good" written all over his face.

However, judging from his expression, there shouldn't be any danger.

They didn't stay in the office for long before it got completely dark. After Ron dried his hair, the group hurried to the castle... carefully avoiding the other students who were heading to the restaurant for the dinner party, and followed the directions Nick had given them to a secluded underground classroom.

Sirius Black solemnly declined Harry's invitation to go with him, saying he would wait for them to return at the restaurant.

"Honestly, I'm starting to regret it." The closer they got to the aisle of Nick's Party, the uglier Ron's face became. "Is it really okay for us living people to attend a party for the dead?"

“You’ve already agreed, Ron,” Hermione said sharply. “A promise is a promise.”

“...But wasn’t it Harry who promised Nick?” Ron muttered to himself, but still managed to keep walking forward.

Like the rest of the castle, this passageway was also lit with candles, but not the warm, orange glow; instead, there were small, black candles that emitted a bluish light when burning, which made the faces of the group appear particularly eerie.

Most importantly, even with their current physical condition, the group could feel a distinct chill, and it got colder the closer they got to the underground classroom. They could even faintly hear a very eerie sound, like countless fingernails scraping across the blackboard.

The ghosts were clearly not going to follow the right path. Harry and his friends would see several ghosts talking to each other as they passed through the wall and headed in the same direction. Some ghosts would cast curious glances at them, but they did not approach or talk to them rashly.

Nick, nearly headless, stood waiting at the corner doorway. Upon seeing Harry and the others arrive, he said in a sorrowful voice, "Welcome, Harry, and you all—welcome! I'm so glad you could come..."

"What's wrong, Nick?" Harry asked. "You seem a bit down. Did something upset you?"

“Yes, yes,” Ron nodded repeatedly. “We should be happy on the anniversary of a death.”

Hermione glared at Ron.

"Indeed—but you be the judge! Does a person whose neck has been chopped forty-four times with a blunt axe really qualify to join the Headless Hunters?!"

Nick suddenly became furious. He pulled at his head as if he wanted to throw it away, but there was a clear connection between his head and neck, so no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his head off.

“Obviously, yes.” Ron quickly deduced what Nick most wanted to hear at that moment.

“Yes, there are,” Nick took a deep breath, barely calming himself down after glancing at the ghosts that had already arrived in the classroom. “But unfortunately, it’s not enough for Mr. Debord, who has already lost his head.”

"So, this is what's bothering you?" Harry asked.

“What else?” Nick retorted. “Do you have any ideas to help me, Harry? We all know you’re very good at dealing with souls—at least no other wizard can bring souls back from that place.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Harry chuckled. “Could you pull your head down a little? Let me see the last bit of connection?”

"Of course!!" Nick was stunned for a moment before his face lit up with ecstasy. He not only landed quickly in front of Harry, but also pulled his head in another direction with one hand.

"It might hurt a little, you'll have to bear it."

There was no complicated process; Harry simply condensed his soul power into a small knife and then cut directly from where Nick's head and neck met.

It's like cutting butter with a hot knife; the last bit of skin and flesh connecting them breaks off completely without any resistance.

Nick's condition deteriorated rapidly. He opened his mouth as if to scream, but the excessive pain prevented him from making a sound. Even his originally milky-white body dimmed, as if he might disappear at any moment.

"My God!" Neville swallowed nervously. "Harry, the Gryffindor ghosts won't just disappear, will they?"

“Of course not,” Harry shook his head and said, “It’s just a sign of a damaged soul. Hmm, Nick just needs some time to recover.”

“Yes, Neville, I’m alright,” Nick exclaimed joyfully, holding his severed head in front of him and looking at himself. “My God—it’s broken off! It’s finally broken off!!” “Uh, Nick?” Hermione asked cautiously, because Nick’s emotions did seem abnormal, and he couldn’t even hear what others were saying.

"I can join the Headless Hunters team!!!"

Suddenly, Nick let out a joyful shout. Ignoring his weakened state, he immediately kicked his head into the very center of the banquet. The flying head continued to emit unrestrained laughter all the way.

It ran throughout the entire venue, attracting the attention of all the ghosts present. Many ghosts who were on good terms with Nick even whistled and made congratulatory noises—some ghosts even kicked out their own heads and flew in sync.

Hermione: "..."

The scene was so surreal that she didn't even know what to say.

Before them, Nick bowed slightly, invited them into the classroom, and then flew inside on his own.

“…That’s terrifying.” Ron couldn’t help but touch his neck and muttered, “Kicking your own head off, uh, is this the game of the Headless Hunters?”

“I think so,” Neville looked even more nervous. “Are we really okay going in now?”

The ghosts' revelry seemed to have entered a new phase, with ghosts flying around the entire classroom. Neville didn't want these things to pass through his body... Last year, he accidentally walked through a ghost's body, and as a result, he caught a bad cold the next day.

“Don’t be afraid, Neville,” Ron swallowed hard, clenching his fist and saying tremblingly, “You don’t want to regret missing a ghost’s death anniversary party a decade or two from now, do you? We might only get to attend one like this once in our lives.”

Ron persuaded Neville, and with the mindset that "since we're already here," the group went into the room.

In this environment where the temperature had become almost bone-chilling due to the gathering of numerous ghosts, the group, whose five senses had become heightened, immediately smelled a nauseating stench.

Large chunks of rotten meat were placed on clean plates on the banquet table, the cakes were baked to a black, charred state—if they could still be called cakes—the pies were crawling with wriggling maggots, and the cheese was covered in green mold.

In the very center of the table was a huge, tombstone-shaped gray cake, on which Nick's full name and the time of his death were spelled out in blackened icing.

Now, not only Neville and Ron, but even Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He had indeed explored Karazhan with Gianna, but at the time they explored it, the Ghost Feast in Karazhan should no longer have such rotten food... well, it should have long since rotted and turned to ashes.

Moreover, with Medivh's later resurrection, this guardian, who had endured many hardships, still lived in that tower filled with dark magic. Under his maintenance, the dead continued their feast from their previous lives for years on end, and even the food and drinks they ate turned into translucent ghosts.

Minotaur are not scavengers.

"Hello?" Harry couldn't help but ask, "You can taste food this way?"

Before them, a woman dressed in an old-fashioned robe walked straight through the food on the long table with her mouth wide open.

“Oh, maybe,” Harry’s question made the ghost sad. “I think so.”

After saying that, the ghostly lady left this sad place.

"So they let the food rot so that it would taste better?" Hermione said, covering her nose. "Then, according to that logic, Uncle James and Aunt Lily can also eat something?"

“No, absolutely not,” Harry said firmly. “Unlike these ghosts, they have never truly returned to this world, so unless they attack or heal with their soul power, they cannot touch anything of the living.”

“Actually, I don’t think James would allow himself to eat this rotten stuff,” Ron complained. “Let’s hurry up and leave, I feel a bit nauseous.”

No sane person would object to such a proposal.

Although the food served at the ghost feast wasn't exactly friendly to the living, once Harry summoned Alfred and provided them with several meat-filled pies and warm butterbeer, even Ron didn't complain. Instead, he patted his belly contentedly while observing the various ghosts with great interest.

If you're looking to broaden your horizons and experience something new, Nick's death anniversary party is actually quite interesting. After all, the conversations between the ghosts and the entertainment at the party are things you wouldn't see at a banquet for the living.

Nick, whose head was completely severed, changed his previous agonizing appearance. He waved to almost every ghost that came by, sharing his good news with them. Before long, all the ghosts knew that it was the boy who had survived the ordeal who had fulfilled Nick's wish.

Most importantly, the boy also possessed the power to influence ghosts.

Ghosts kept coming over to greet Harry and his friends, most of them just there for the novelty, but a small number of ghosts still made their own requests to Harry—asking him to cut them.

So, under the blank stares of Hermione and the others, Harry had already performed four surgeries in less than ten minutes... well, he had successfully beheaded four ghosts.

These dead souls seemed to lack some kind of emotion in their hearts. Even though the four souls screamed in agony or had expressions of pain that were unbearable to watch during the decapitation process, they still excitedly gathered around and pointed—as if the more the ghost being operated on screamed, the more excited they became.

Because so many parts had to be removed, the bodies of these ghosts after the surgery were even paler than Nick's appearance just now, as if they would disappear from the world at any moment. But when the pain subsided, they became more and more excited than ever... kicking their heads all over the place.

“…I bet they really lack entertainment, really,” Neville muttered blankly.

“It’s also possible that their unchanging lives over the centuries have bored them,” Hermione said, rubbing her stiff face. “Look, the number of people asking Harry to have his head ripped off… there are more ghosts again.”

Everything she saw today exceeded her expectations. Hermione thought her father would love the story, with its ghosts kicking her around and all that.

(End of this chapter)