Harry Potter Male Reader Insert - Book 2

Chapter 7. The deathday party and a new friend

1

Already it is October in Scotland and everywhere else, and a damp chill spread over the ground outside and into the great castle. There was a sudden spate of illness, and the nurse Madam Pomfrey was busy. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly but left the drinker smoking at the ears for hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, looking pale, was bullied into taking it by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire.

It had been raining heavily for days, and you could see the clouds' tears hit the castle windows with no end yet in sight, and the lake rose, and the flower beds turned muddy, and Hagrid's pumpkin swelled to the size of garden sheds. The air smelled of wetness. But Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions was not dampened, for thus, Harry was found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

Aside from the rain and wind, it was not a happy practice. Fred and George spying on the Slytherin team, saw the speed of new brooms acquired by the green and silver snakes. They reported that the Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles.

When Harry was walking down the deserted corridor after the practice, all wet and dirty, he saw his friend with his gray cat. Y/N was sitting without moving against the cold wall and smiling, and Cinder was jumping on and out of his lap, meowing playfully, and her paw hit his arm lightly with each small jump. The sun was dropping at the west, and a few bright orange streaks fought their way through the dark clouds and came from the windows, hopefully signaling the weather to improve. Harry walked over and greeted the sitting: „Hello, Y/N."

„Hey," he replied, not looking over, and Cinder looked curiously at Harry. Then Y/N, too, regarded him but without curiosity. „Had a fun practice, I see, Potter." But Harry's face was not a sign of any fun.

„Very fun. But I see you are having fun, L/N," he said bitterly and sighed, then asked: „What are you doing here?"

„Playing with Cinder, too loud in the common room."

„Sure."

Then from the turn came a ghost, looking busy in his otherwise eternal life that followed his regrettable and painful death. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was flowing past them with his transparent eyes that stared out of the rain-stained windows. He hasn't noticed them yet. He muttered under his breath: „. . . don't fulfill their requirements . . . half an inch if that . . ." Harry and Y/N glanced at each other, and Cinder was looking around.

„Hello, Nick," Harry said, and the ghost's attention got drawn.

„Hello, hello," Nick said, starting and looking around. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Harry could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.

„Good afternoon," Y/N said, standing up with Cinder in his arms.

„Good afternoon to you, too . . . Say, you look troubled, young Potter," Nick said, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.

„So do you."

„Ah," Nearly Headless Nick said and waved an elegant hand: „a matter of no importance . . . It's not as though I wanted to join. Thought I'd apply, but I apparently don't fulfill the requirements."

Despite his airy tone, there was a look of bitterness on his silvery face.

„But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, „that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"