Bella and the Chamber (Book Two)

Chapter Sixteen

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington

died 31st October, 1492

"I suddenly don't feel hungry anymore," I gagged and hid my face in Harry's shoulder. Actions like this make people question if we're together...but we're not. We're only twelve! Shh!

Harry chuckled. 

I lifted my head up off his shoulder and watched, amazed, as a poorly ghost approached the table, crouched low and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon. 

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" Harry asked him. 

"Almost," the ghost said sadly, and he drifted away. 

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavour," I said talking like Hermione. I pinched my nose and leaned closer to look at the putrid haggis. Yuck. 

"Can we move? I feel sick," Ron did look really pale. 

We had barely turned around, however, when a little man swopped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-air before us. 

"Hello, Peeves," Harry said cautiously.

Unlike the ghosts around us, Peeves the poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow-tie and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" he said sweetly, offering us a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus. 

"No, thanks," Hermione shook her head. 

"Head you talking about poor Myrtle," Peeves said, his eyes dancing. Oh no. "Rude you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OY! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what we said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically. "We didn't mean it, we don't mind her - er, hello, Myrtle"

The squat ghost of a girl glided over. She had the glummest face I had ever seen, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly glasses. 

"What?" she said sulkily.

"How are you, Myrtle?" I asked, in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet"

Myrtle sniffled. 

"Miss Granger and Miss Swan was just talking about you-" Peeves said slyly in Myrtle's ear.

Damn you Peeves! I shared a look with Hermione. 

"Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight," Hermione stuttered, glaring at Peeves. 

Myrtle eyes us suspiciously. 

"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes. 

"No - honestly - didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" Hermione said, nudging me and Harry painfully in the ribs whilst she glared at Ron.

"Oh, yeah..."

"She did..."

"Totally..."