Chapter 334: Deathday Dinner
In the dim basement corridor, Draco's words failed to draw even the slightest reaction from Harry.
It was simply too cold.
With every step they took toward Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Dinner, the temperature dropped further, as if the air itself were retreating from the presence of the living.
And that wasn't even the worst part.
Nick had clearly forgotten—or perhaps never considered—that living people would attend his celebration. The candles lining the corridor were thin, black tapers, their flames burning with an eerie blue glow.
They offered almost no illumination.
Instead, the weak light reflected off the stone walls and cast ghostly shadows across Harry and the others' faces, making them look pale and unnatural.
Even Ron, who prided himself on his bravery, shuddered when he caught sight of their reflections.
"Merlin," he muttered, hugging himself. "I almost forgot I'm a wizard."
Harry glanced at him, then raised his wand.
A miniature sun burst forth from its tip, floating calmly above them. Warm golden light flooded the corridor, pushing back both the darkness and the biting cold.
"Come on, Ron," Harry said mildly.
"Even though you're a Ravenclaw, you don't seem to study anything outside class—except those questionable curses."
"For cold like this," Draco added with a snort, "you probably rely on blasting everything with fire."
"And can you do better?" Ron shot back.
"I actually can," Draco replied coolly. "My parents once considered sending me to Durmstrang."
"It's freezing there. I learned a Cold-Repelling Charm early on."
He lifted his chin with pride. "Watch closely. Raise your wand halfway above your head, keep your elbow still, rotate your wrist twice, then say 'Remove cold, increase warmth,' and touch yourself with the tip."
"I don't want to learn your ridiculous charm," Ron scoffed. "Harry's spell is way cooler."
He pointed upward. "There's literally a sun floating above my head."
"Cool?" Draco sneered. "But can you learn it?"
"My spell is simple. In Durmstrang, it's practically the same level as Lumos."
Even so, Draco had to admit it—Harry's spell was undeniably more impressive.
"Ron. Draco. Neither of you recognized it?" Harry said, sounding genuinely surprised.
"This is just an alternative application of my dark spell."
"You both know it was inspired by the legend of the wolf Sköll devouring the sun."
"I'm simply letting the sun come back out of the wolf's stomach."
Ron stared.
"…This is your fault," he declared.
"You named that spell Darkness."
"If you'd called it the Sun-Swallowing Curse, I would've figured it out immediately."
Draco cleared his throat. "We've been standing here too long. Let's move."
He immediately regretted saying that.
As they advanced, a sound pierced the air—sharp, grating, and unbearable.
It was like a thousand fingernails scraping across a massive blackboard.
"Is that… music?!" Ron clapped his hands over his ears.
Harry grimaced as well. "It seems ghosts, after being separated from the material world for so long, use sounds that living people can't stand… to remind themselves what it feels like to exist."
Before Ron could respond, a sorrowful voice echoed ahead.
"My dear friends… welcome… welcome…"
Nearly Headless Nick floated forward, his expression tragic yet excited.
"I am so pleased that you could come…"
"But why so late?" he added suddenly, brightening. "I told many ghosts that Harry Potter would attend my Deathday Dinner!"
After finishing his dramatic display, Nick regained his usual enthusiasm. Standing beneath a black velvet curtain, he removed his plumed hat, bowed deeply, and gestured for them to enter.
Harry froze.
He had never seen so many ghosts in one place.
Hundreds of pale, translucent figures filled the underground classroom—and the moment he stepped inside, all of them turned to look at him.
"That's Harry Potter."
"The wizard even Peeves avoids."
"The Potter family really does have the same face…"
Only then did Harry understand why he was the center of attention.
Floating at the heart of the room was an enormous cake shaped like a tombstone, slowly rotating in midair. Though transparent, dark icing spelled out words clearly across its surface:
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington
Died 31 October, 1492
On the reverse side, the reason for Harry's sudden popularity was unmistakable:
Welcome Harry Potter, Nemesis of Peeves, and his Living Friends
The surrounding ghosts stared at it with unmistakable longing.
Nick rose higher, clearing his throat.
"Now then," he announced, "the attendance is most satisfactory. The Crying Widow came all the way from Kent…"
"But I know very well that your enthusiasm is also related to the ghostly cuisine."
"You may have noticed that some of us have regained traces of color—more than usual."
"There were even more obvious cases," Nick added pointedly, "but that individual offended my dear friend, Harry Potter."
A ripple of ghostly murmurs followed.
"You may wonder why Harry Potter's name is on my Deathday cake," Nick continued proudly.
"Not only did his presence drive away an uninvited guest we do not welcome—"
"But it was also because of him that Ravenclaw's diadem returned to the world."
"Headmaster Dumbledore used the diadem's restored magic to recreate this magnificent feast."
"And thus, we may dine together tonight!"
With a sweeping gesture, Nick signaled the stage.
The black cloth lifted.
Thirty musical saws began to wail in unison, producing a trembling, dreadful waltz that echoed through the chamber.
Ron swallowed. "Why aren't they eating yet?"
Harry glanced around. "The Headless Hunt hasn't arrived."
"Nick must be waiting for them."
"But why?" Draco asked. "None of the ghosts are even watching the band—they're all staring at the cake."
Harry blinked, then laughed softly. "Don't you know?"
"Nick once tried to join the Headless Hunt."
"But because his head wasn't fully severed, he was rejected."
Draco's eyes widened.
"So this is revenge?"
"Exactly," Harry said. "Ghost food passes straight through you."
"For headless ghosts, it spills out."
Understanding dawned.
"The reason they're cooperating," Draco murmured, nodding slowly, "must be the ghost food."
The music screeched on.
And the Deathday Dinner continued.
(End of Chapter 334)
.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics