The Headless Hunt Arrives

A short, plump ghost floated over to them. Heavy straight bangs and bulky pearl-colored glasses hid most of her face, making her look even gloomier.

"What is it?"

She asked them with a stiff expression.

Of the group, Hermione knew Moaning Myrtle best. In an exaggeratedly cheerful voice, she said, "Hi, Myrtle! It's lovely to see you at Nearly Headless Nick's five-hundredth Deathday Party!"

Myrtle sniffed and looked up at Peeves, who was pulling faces. "What... were they saying about me?"

Hermione glared at Peeves and spoke before he could. "We were saying... saying... that you look lovely tonight. Your outfit really suits the Deathday Party."

Myrtle cast a suspicious look over everyone there. "You're making fun of me. You're saying I have a bad temper, that I cry and make noise, that I splash water everywhere, that I have a horrible figure. Boo-hoo!"

Tears streamed down her face like running water. Hermione spread her hands helplessly at the others, as if to say she had known this would happen.

"No! I've been praising you this whole time. Ask Luo Bin and Harry if you don't believe me!"

As she spoke, Hermione gently nudged Luo Bin in the ribs with her elbow.

"That's right. Hermione said you love an Eastern Dai festival, that your singing voice is so loud it's unforgettable, and that you keep young witches company when they go to the bathroom alone at night."

Luo Bin delivered the patchwork lie without changing expression.

"Yes, that's exactly what she said..." Harry added.

Behind Luo Bin, Hermione, and Harry, Peeves shook his enormous head so fast it was almost a blur, crossing and waving his arms to signal that they were lying.

Tears kept rolling down Myrtle's cheeks. "Don't lie to me. Nobody appreciates me, and nobody ever praises