Nearly Headless Nick Wanted to Become Headless Nick

Lin Du's gaze lingered on Nick's pearly-white ghostly form for a moment before he understood.

He immediately grasped Dumbledore's plan—

Ghosts had long since passed on. The Basilisk's deadly gaze could at most petrify them; it would not truly kill them.

Still, the thought of making a sincere and friendly ghost like Nick the target made Lin Du's brow furrow slightly.

He clearly remembered how, during his year as an Exchange Student, Nick had enthusiastically introduced him to Hogwarts' history and had even helped him find his way back to Gryffindor Tower after he got lost late one night.

"Why Sir Nicholas?" Lin Du turned to Dumbledore, his tone carrying disapproval.

"With all due respect, Headmaster, if you must choose a ghost to be 'attacked,' wouldn't Peeves be a more suitable choice? At least it would save Mr. Filch quite a bit of work."

A trace of amusement flashed through Dumbledore's eyes, but he quickly turned serious again. "I considered Peeves as well, Professor Lin. In fact, I informed several ghosts I trusted about the Basilisk and our plan. Peeves... is clearly not suited to keeping secrets."

He paused. "More importantly, if we truly 'petrified' Peeves, the students probably would not panic. They would instead think this 'Heir of Slytherin' was doing them a public service—

Just imagine it: Mrs. Norris and Peeves, the two beings who gave the students the greatest headaches, taken care of one after the other."

Lin Du had to admit that Dumbledore had thought things through.

But he still had doubts. "Even so, making Sir Nicholas take this risk..."

"I volunteered, dear Professor!" Nick suddenly spoke, his voice carrying the hollow echo unique to ghosts.

He floated elegantly a short distance forward, an unusually eager light glittering in his translucent eyes.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Think about it—if the Basilisk petrifies me, Madam Pomfrey or some other healer will have to find a way to lift the petrification, right? Then I can formally make a request—ask them, during the treatment, to conveniently, completely..."

He excitedly gestured at his neck. "Cut my head all the way off! Then I'll finally meet the entry requirements for The Headless Hunt!"

A strange silence fell over the office.

Lin Du opened his mouth, but for a moment, he did not know how to respond.

He looked at Nick's expectant face and that head of his, forever threatening to fall off, and felt utterly absurd.

Instinctively, he felt the idea was not very realistic—

Ghosts were powerful impressions left in the world by the dead, their forms fixed long ago. How could a single "treatment" possibly change that?

But he caught the gentle look Dumbledore gave him, which seemed to suggest that he should not shatter this ghost's centuries-old obsession.

So Lin Du swallowed the objection on the tip of his tongue and instead gave Nick a somewhat forced, appreciative smile.

"This... is certainly a bold and creative idea, Sir Nicholas. For Hogwarts' safety, and for your personal... pursuit, your spirit of sacrifice is admirable."

Nick happily puffed out his chest—though this only made his head wobble even more—as if he could already see himself riding a ghost horse and soaring alongside The Headless Hunt. He excitedly floated forward, spreading his arms to embrace Lin Du in thanks—

"Oh! Dear Professor!"

Before Lin Du could react, Nick's translucent body passed straight through him.

For an instant, Lin Du felt as though he had been plunged into the Black Lake in December. Bone-piercing cold surged through every limb and bone, making him shudder uncontrollably.

"Sorry, sorry!" Nick hurriedly apologized, though his face was still brimming with excitement.

"I always forget about that... Well then, Headmaster, Professor, I shall take my leave! I'm going to the site of the 'attack' to make preparations!"

He gave an elegant bow, then hummed a tuneless little song as he drifted through the wall.

The office door closed softly, leaving only Lin Du and Dumbledore once more.

The freezing sensation seemed to linger. Lin Du rubbed his arms and said dryly, "Headmaster, is it really... appropriate to take advantage of an honest ghost's obsession like this?"

Dumbledore looked at him through his half-moon spectacles with helpless gentleness. "Believe me, Professor Lin, I asked several trustworthy ghosts. Nicholas was the only one... well, actively willing to cooperate. Consider it a favor to satisfy this old man's plan, and do not shatter his dream for now, all right?"

Lin Du looked at the white-haired headmaster before him and silently complained that Nick was probably older than Dumbledore's great-grandfather, but in the end, he swallowed his words and shrugged helplessly.

"All right. You're the boss."

"Now then, let us return to our earlier topic." Dumbledore lightly tapped the tabletop with his fingers, his eyes sweeping over the silver vessel again. "As for Harry and the others, it seems they are planning to 'borrow' something from Severus. Do you not intend to... discreetly offer them some assistance?"

"Help?" Lin Du raised an eyebrow and immediately shook his head. "Headmaster, The Chosen One needs to learn how to solve problems himself. He cannot expect a nanny to clean up after him every time. Besides—"

A lingering fear appeared on his face. "Whenever Professor Snape sees me now, sparks practically fly from the tip of his wand. I have no desire to provoke that furious bat again."

"But I heard your relationship has improved recently?" A sly glint flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.

"That was because I believed your... ghost... advice." Lin Du nearly blurted out something impolite, but caught himself in time. "I thought Professor Snape had some awkward tenderness hidden inside him. And what happened? During the Duelling Club, those nasty curses of his came straight at me! I do not have the nerve to keep testing his limits now."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, his voice gentle. "Severus is a very gentle person. He simply is not good at expressing it. Do not be fooled by appearances, Professor Lin."

"His 'gentleness' can stay with his potion ingredients." Lin Du waved dismissively and decisively changed the subject. "Besides, the Monthly Exam is coming up again. I need to prepare properly and bring a little Eastern-style 'academic pressure' to Hogwarts' eager students. I'll leave the rest of the arrangements to you, Headmaster."

Seeing that Lin Du was determined to leave, Dumbledore could only nod helplessly. "Very well. May Merlin bless Severus's storeroom."

Lin Du walked to the door, his hand already on the brass handle, but suddenly stopped as though he had thought of an extremely important question.

He turned back, looking at Dumbledore with an intensely serious expression of inquiry.

"Headmaster, one last question—are The Chosen One and Voldemort actually related?"

"?"

Satisfied by the old headmaster's rare speechlessness, Lin Du finally pulled open the door in high spirits, humming a tuneless little song similar to Nick's as he left the headmaster's office.