Shake Your Head

For a while afterward, Kyle kept a close eye on his surroundings, but strangely, the old whisper never returned.

He also tried increasing the training intensity, exhausting himself again, and even staying up all night, but it still didn't work.

It seems he really did mishear that day.

About two weeks passed, and gradually, Kyle stopped thinking about it.

A few days before Halloween, on a stormy Saturday evening, Kyle, having finished his activities at the Spells Club, nearly bumped into someone... no, to be precise, a ghost as he turned a corner in a corridor.

Nearly Headless Nick.

The ghost of the Gryffindor Tower gazed melancholically out the window, muttering to himself, "... not meeting their criteria... just half an inch short..."

He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice someone almost passing through his body.

Until Kyle took the initiative to greet him...

"Hello, Sir Popington."

Kyle prefers to call him by that name rather than the other.

Ever since his last holiday, every time Kyle heard someone call him Nick, Kyle couldn't help but think of the old man far away in Devon.

Hello, hello.

Nick, Nearly Headless Nick, was startled and looked around before finally spotting Kyle.

"Few people call me that." He seemed a little better. "You look so tired, that's good... I mean, I can't even remember what tiredness feels like anymore."

As he spoke, he folded a transparent letter and hid it inside his jacket.

Strangely enough, although the letter was transparent, it seemed to be real parchment; once folded, you couldn't see what was written on it at all.

"All I can say is that this feeling is awful, and you definitely don't want to remember it."

Kyle rubbed his forehead and changed the subject, saying, "You look like you have something on your mind."

"Ah, it's nothing." The ghost gracefully waved a long, slender hand. "It's a small matter... It's not that I really wanted to participate... I thought I could apply, but it seems I... don't meet the requirements."

His tone was nonchalant, but his face betrayed deep pain.

"Hello... Kyle, oh, and Nick too."

Just then, Harry walked over from a short distance away. He must have just finished Quidditch practice; he was soaking wet and his clothes were covered in mud.

"Are the badges no longer working?" Kyle asked.

"No, it's very useful," Harry said. "It just fell into a mud puddle when I was catching the Golden Snitch."

Harry took out the Impervius badge, which still had a piece of cloth attached to it, torn from his robes.

Looks like you fell pretty hard.

Kyle took out his wand.

"Reparo."

The tattered cloth, bearing the emblem, was once again draped over the robe.

"Thank you, Kyle. Hermione had been trying to get me to learn this spell the other day... I think she was right."

Harry said happily, then looked at the ghost next to Kyle, "You seem to have something on your mind."

When asked this question by two young wizards in a row, the Gryffindor ghost suddenly erupted.

"Why don't you all tell us what you think?"

He pulled the letter out of his pocket again, loudly complaining about how the Headless Hunt had rejected his application.

"Look at this, we can only accept hunters whose heads are separated from their bodies..."

He said angrily, "With only a little skin and tendon connecting us, most people would think it's no different from losing their head. But no, to Sir Podmore, who has lost his head, that's not enough."

Harry opened his mouth, unsure how to comfort him, and could only say dryly, "I think you deserve it, really."

"Thank you... it's a pity they won't think that way!"

"Sir Popington..." Kyle said thoughtfully, "If you ask me, you don't really need to be so fixated on joining the Headless Hunt."

"I didn't really want to join... I just applied for fun because I was bored!" the ghost stubbornly insisted.

"Okay, like you said." Kyle didn't call him out on it.

"I think you could totally start your own Nearly Headless Hunt."

"Form your own hunting team?"

"Yes, Sir Popington," Kyle said. "I imagine you must be quite well-known in ghost circles."

"Hmm... I do have quite a few friends."

"In fact, this Halloween marks my 500th death anniversary, and more than a hundred ghosts have already confirmed their attendance."

He said this with a very proud expression, so the number must be quite large.

"That's no problem," Kyle laughed. "You can announce the formation of your own hunter team then and have them help with publicity to raise awareness."

"But... what about the event?"

Nick hesitated for a moment, "I hate to admit it, but I really can't do horse-slinging acrobatics or balance a polo ball on my head, and I don't look scary."

"You can develop your own event," Kyle said. "There's no need to copy them; you have your own strengths."

"My... advantages?"

"That's right." Kyle thought for a moment and said, "For example, you can swing your head like a propeller, which they can't do."

As he spoke, Kyle conjured a stone with a rope attached and swung it around in his hand twice.

"Like this..."

"You could also find a nearly headless mount and go for a spin together. It would be even better if you could make some sounds or expressions during the process."

Nearly Headless Nick, stared wide-eyed as if he had discovered something new. He then leaned closer to Harry and asked:

"Do you think it would be really scary if I did that?"

Harry glanced at the rock that Kyle was swinging around in his hand, then at the head in front of him, and a picture immediately flashed into his mind.

Instinctively, Harry's facial features scrunched up.

Oh no... The image was too vivid, and it keeps replaying in his mind. He definitely won't be able to sleep tonight!

But Nearly Headless Nick, was quite satisfied.

"Oh, that's it, that's the expression!"

He clapped his hands excitedly. "That's a great idea! Patrick Podmore would be absolutely stunned if he saw this."

Haha... How come I didn't think of that before!

He floated around excitedly in mid-air.

"If possible, could you come to my...?"

"Meow..." A sharp, piercing cry suddenly came from near Harry's ankle, drowning out his next words.

"It's Mrs. Norris."

Kyle glanced at Harry and the long line of mud behind him.

"You'd better get out of here right now. Someone's cauldron exploded in Potions Class today, and potions splattered everywhere. Filch spent the whole morning cleaning it up. If he sees you dripping mud and water everywhere..."

"You're right," Harry said, trying to run upstairs to the common room, but it was too late.

He had only taken a couple of steps when Filch burst out from behind a tapestry, panting heavily.

He had a thick plaid scarf tied around his head, and his nose was unusually red; he looked like he had a cold.

"Enough!" he said, pointing to the muddy water dripping from Harry's Quidditch robes. "It's a mess everywhere, and I've had enough! Harry Potter, come with me!"

Harry sighed dejectedly and followed Filch down the stairs, leaving another trail of muddy footprints on the floor.

"That direction is... Filch's office. He's probably trying to make an example of someone."

Nick said, "We have to help Harry. I remember there's a big cabinet in the storeroom. If we smash it on top of Filch's office, it should distract him."

"A really big cabinet?" Kyle muttered to himself. "Where's that storage room?"

"No, you can't go. You'll cause trouble."

The ghost, half-submerged in the wall, said, "I'll go find Peeves; he's the most suitable candidate."

"Etc..."

Before Kyle could finish speaking, the other person had already disappeared.

"Isn't that a bit too hasty?"

Looking at the empty corridor, Kyle thought for a moment, then turned and ran towards the second floor.