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Hello, Nick, said Harry. Hello, hello, said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking round. 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. You look troubled, young Potter, said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet. So do you, said Harry. Ah, Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, a matter Call of duty warzone campaign arena no importance. Its not as though I really wanted to join. Thought Id apply, but apparently I dont fulfill requirements - In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face. But you would think, wouldnt 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. Oh - yes, said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree. I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However - Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously: We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback HeadJuggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore. Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away. Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry. Most people would think thats good and beheaded, but oh, no, its not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore. Nearly Headless Nick took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, So - whats bothering you. Anything I can do. No, said Harry. Not unless you know where we can get seven free Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for our match against Sly - The rest of Harrys sentence was drowned out by a high-pitched mewling from somewhere near his ankles. He looked down and found himself gazing into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs. Norris, the skeletal gray cat who was used by the caretaker, Argus Filch, as a sort of deputy in his endless battle against students. Youd Call of duty warzone campaign arena get out of here, Harry, said Nick quickly. Filch isnt in a good mood - hes got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. Hes been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place - Right, said Harry, backing away from the accusing stare of Mrs. Norris, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the mysterious power that seemed to connect him with his foul cat, Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to Harrys right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rulebreaker. There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple. Filth. he shouted, his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from Harrys Quidditch robes. Mess and muck everywhere. Ive had enough of it, I tell you. Follow me, Potter. So Harry waved a gloomy good-bye to Nearly Headless Nick and followed Filch back downstairs, doubling the number of muddy footprints on the floor. Harry had never been inside Filchs office before; it was a place most students avoided. The room was dingy and windowless, lit by a single oil lamp dangling from the low ceiling. A faint smell of fried fish lingered about the place. Wooden filing cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, Harry could see that they contained details of every pupil Filch had ever punished. Fred and George Weasley had an entire drawer to themselves. A highly polished collection of chains and manacles hung on the wall behind Filchs desk. It was common knowledge that he was always begging Dumbledore to let him suspend students by their ankles from the ceiling. Filch grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment. Dung, he muttered furiously, great sizzling dragon bogies. frog brains. rat intestines. Ive had enough of it. make an example. wheres the form. yes. He retrieved a large roll of parchment from his desk drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot. Name. Harry Potter. Crime. It was only a bit of mud. said Harry. Its only a bit of mud to you, Call of duty warzone campaign arena, but to me its an extra hour scrubbing. shouted Filch, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. Crime. befouling the castle. suggested sentence. Dabbing at his streaming nose, Filch squinted unpleasantly at Harry, who waited with bated breath for his sentence to fall. But as Filch lowered his quill, there was a great BANG. on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle. PEEVES. Filch roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage. Ill have you this time, Ill have you. And without a backward glance at Harry, Filch ran flat-footed from the office, Mrs. Norris streaking alongside him. Peeves wallpaper duty call characters of zombies the school poltergeist, a grinning, airborne menace who lived to cause havoc and distress. Visit web page didnt much like Peeves, but couldnt help feeling grateful for his timing. Hopefully, whatever Peeves had done (and it sounded as though hed wrecked something very big this time) would distract Filch from Harry. Thinking that he should probably wait for Filch to come back, Harry sank into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. There was only one thing on it apart from his half-completed form: a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the door to check that Filch wasnt on his way back, Harry picked up the envelope and read: KWIKSPELL _____________________________________ A Correspondence Course in Beginners Magic Intrigued, Harry flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said: Feel out of step in the world of modern magic. Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells. Ever been taunted for your woeful wandwork. There is an answer. Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method. Madam Z. Nettles of Topsham writes: I had no memory for incantations and my potions were a family joke. Now, after a Kwikspell course, I am the center of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution. Warlock D. Prod of Didsbury says: My wife used to sneer at my feeble charms, but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course and I succeeded in turning her into a yak. Thank you, Kwikspell. Fascinated, Harry thumbed through the rest of the envelopes contents. Why on earth did Filch want a Kwikspell course. Did this mean he wasnt a proper wizard. Harry was just reading Lesson One: Holding Your Wand (Some Useful Tips) when shuffling footsteps outside told him Filch was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, Harry threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened. Filch was looking triumphant. That Vanishing Cabinet was extremely valuable. he was saying gleefully to Mrs. Norris. Well have Peeves out this time, Call of duty warzone campaign arena sweet - His eyes fell on Harry and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope, which, Harry realized too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started. Filchs pasty face went brick red. Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. Filch hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer. Have you - did you read -. he sputtered. No, Harry lied quickly. Filchs knobbly hands were twisting together. If I thought youd read my private - not that its mine - for a friend - be that as it may - however - Harry was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one https://beststrategygames.cloud/baldurs-gate/baldurs-gate-3-character-creation-animation.php his pouchy cheeks, and the tartan scarf didnt help. Very well - go - and dont breathe a word - not that - however, if you didnt read - go now, I have to write up Peeves report - go - Amazed at his luck, Harry sped out of the office, up the corridor, and back upstairs. To escape from Filchs office without punishment was probably some kind of school record. Harry. Harry. Did it work. Nearly Headless Nick came gliding out of a classroom. Behind him, Harry could see the wreckage of a large black-and-gold cabinet that appeared to have been dropped from a great height. I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filchs office, said Nick eagerly. Thought it might distract him - Was that you. said Harry gratefully. Yeah, it worked, I didnt even get detention. Thanks, Nick. They set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Nick, Harry noticed, was still holding Sir Patricks rejection letter. I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt, Harry said. Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks and Harry walked right through him. He wished he hadnt; it was like stepping through an icy shower. But there is something you could do for me, said Nick excitedly. Harry - would I be asking too much - but no, you wouldnt want - What is it. said Harry. Well, just click for source Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday, said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified. Oh, said Harry, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. Right. Im holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honor if you would attend. Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome, too, of course - but I daresay youd rather go to the school feast. He watched Harry on tenterhooks. No, said Harry quickly, Ill come - My dear boy. Harry Potter, at my deathday party. And - he hesitated, looking excited - do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me. Of - of course, said Harry. Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him. A deathday party. said Hermione keenly when Harry had changed at last and joined her and Ron in the common room. I bet there arent many living people who can say theyve been to one of those - itll be fascinating. Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died. said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy. Sounds dead depressing to me. Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had rescued the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smoldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people. Harry was at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamanders mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from Harrys mind. By the time Halloween arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the deathday party. The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrids vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment. A promise is a promise, Hermione reminded Harry bossily. You said youd go to the deathday party. So at seven oclock, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons. The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nicks party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took. As Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him, he heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard. Is that supposed to be music. Ron whispered. They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes. My dear friends, he said mournfully. Welcome, welcome. so pleased you could come. He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside. It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearlywhite, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer. Shall we have a look around. Harry suggested, wanting to warm up his feet. Careful not to walk through anyone, said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasnt surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts. Oh, no, said Hermione, stopping abruptly. Turn back, turn back, I dont want to talk to Moaning Myrtle - Who. said Harry as they backtracked quickly. She haunts one of the toilets in the girls bathroom on the first floor, said Hermione. She haunts a toilet. Yes. Its been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; its awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you - Look, food. said Ron. On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words, SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492 Harry watched, amazed, as a portly 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, said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away. I expect theyve let it rot to give it a stronger flavor, said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis. Can we move. I feel sick, said Ron. They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them. Hello, Peeves, said Harry cautiously. Unlike the ghosts around them, 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 them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus. No thanks, said Hermione. Heard you talking about poor Myrtle, said Peeves, his eyes dancing. Rude you was about poor Myrtle. He took a deep breath and bellowed, OI. MYRTLE. Oh, no, Peeves, dont tell her what I said, shell be really upset, Hermione whispered frantically. I didnt mean it, I dont mind her - er, hello, Myrtle. The squat ghost of a girl had glided over. She had the glummest face Harry had ever seen, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles. What. she said sulkily. How are you, Myrtle. said Hermione in a sorry, steam deck emudeck psp useful bright voice. Its nice to see you out of the toilet. Myrtle sniffed. Miss Granger was just talking about you - said Peeves slyly in Myrtles ear. Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight, said Hermione, glaring at Peeves. Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously. Youre making fun of me, she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes. No - honestly - didnt I just say how nice Myrtles looking. said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron painfully in the ribs. Oh, yeah - She did - Dont lie to me, Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder. Dyou think I dont know what people call me behind my back. Fat Myrtle. Ugly Myrtle. Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle. Youve forgotten pimply, Peeves hissed in her ear. Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, Pimply. Pimply. Oh, dear, said Hermione sadly. Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd. Enjoying yourselves. Oh, yes, they lied. Not a bad turnout, said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent. Its nearly time for my speech, Id better go and warn the orchestra. The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded. Oh, here we go, said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly. Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Harry started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nicks face. The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck. Nick. he roared. How are you. Head still hanging in there. He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder. Welcome, Patrick, said Nick stiffly. Live uns. said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter). Very amusing, said Nearly Headless Nick darkly. Dont mind Nick. shouted Sir Patricks head from the floor. Still upset we wont let him join the Hunt. But I mean to say - look at the fellow - I think, said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, Nicks very - frightening and - er - Ha. yelled Sir Patricks head. Bet he asked you to say that. If I could have everyones attention, its time for my speech. said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.
Night seemed to have taken refuge under its great trees, creeping away from the coming Dawn. Lead on, Master Brandybuck. said Pippin. Or lead back. We have been warned against Fangorn. But one so knowing will not have forgotten that. I have not, answered Merry; but the forest seems better to me, all the same, than turning back into the middle of a battle. He led the way in under the huge branches of the trees. Old beyond guessing, they seemed. Great trailing beards of lichen hung from them, blowing and swaying in the click here. Out of the shadows the hobbits peeped, gazing back down the slope: little furtive figures that in the dim light looked like elf-children in Baldurs gate 3 work on steam deck deeps of time peering out of the Wild Wood in wonder at their first Dawn. Far over the Great River, and the Brown Lands, leagues upon grey leagues away, the Dawn came, red as flame. Loud rang the hunting-horns to greet it. The Riders of Rohan sprang suddenly to life. Horn answered horn again. Merry and Pippin heard, clear in the cold air, the neighing of war-horses, and the sudden singing of many men. The Suns limb was lifted, an arc of fire, above the margin of the world. Then with a great cry the Riders charged from the Baldurs gate 3 work on steam deck the red light gleamed on mail and spear. The Orcs yelled and shot all the arrows that remained to them. The hobbits saw several horsemen fall; but their line held on up the hill and over it, and wheeled round and Baldurs gate 3 work on steam deck source. Most of the raiders that were left alive then broke and fled, this way and that, pursued one by one to the death. But one band, holding together in Baldurs gate 3 work on steam deck black wedge, drove forward resolutely in the direction of the forest. Straight up the slope they charged towards the watchers. Now they were drawing near, and it seemed certain that they would escape: they had already hewn down three Riders that barred their way. We have watched too long, said Merry. Theres Uglu´k. I dont want to meet him again. The hobbits turned and fled deep into the shadows of the wood. So it was that they did not see the last stand, when Uglu´k was overtaken and brought to bay at the very edge of Fangorn. There he was ´ slain at last by Eomer, the Third Marshal of the Mark, who dismounted and fought him sword to sword. And over the wide fields the keen-eyed Riders hunted down the few Orcs that had escaped and still had strength to fly. Then when they had laid their fallen comrades in a mound and had sung their praises, the Riders made a great fire and scattered the 460 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS ashes of their enemies. So ended the raid, and no news of it came ever back either to Mordor or to Isengard; but the smoke of the burning rose high to heaven and was seen by many watchful eyes. Chapter 4 TREEBEARD Meanwhile the hobbits went with as much speed as source dark and tangled forest allowed, following the line of the running stream, westward and up towards the slopes of the mountains, deeper and deeper into Fangorn. Slowly their fear of the Orcs died away, and their pace slackened. A queer stifling feeling came over them, as if the air were too thin or too scanty for breathing. At last Merry halted. We cant go on like this, he panted. I want some air. Lets have a drink at any rate, said Pippin. Im parched. He clambered on to a great tree-root that wound down into the stream, and stooping drew up some water in his cupped hands. It was clear and cold, and he took many draughts. Merry followed him. The water refreshed them and seemed to cheer their hearts; for a while they sat together on the brink of the stream, dabbling their sore feet and legs, and peering round at the trees that stood silently about them, rank upon rank, until they faded away into grey twilight in every direction. I suppose you havent lost us already. said Pippin, leaning back against a great tree-trunk. We can at least follow the course of this stream, the Entwash or whatever you call it, and get out again the way we came. We could, if our legs would do it, said Merry; and if we could breathe properly. Yes, it is all visit web page dim, and stuffy, in here, said Pippin.
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