"Everyone, be sure to give this story a Powerstone! Also, 30 advanced chapters of this story are uploaded on my Patreon—you can go there and read them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for 30 advanced chapter, visit my patreon
'patreon.com/fatimasoomro123'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"
Chapter 118: The Deathday Party Begins
"Or maybe you've got rather unusual tastes and are especially interested in a skeleton dance troupe?" George teased. Having heard about it, he had no desire to attend the Halloween party.
"Hmph!" With the decision already made by the group, Ron had no choice but to grumble in agreement.
As seven o'clock approached, they passed through the doorway together and entered the Great Hall. It was brightly lit, decorated with colorful lights, and the tables were set with gleaming gold and silver dishes, waiting for the students to arrive. But they didn't stop—they continued toward the underground classroom.
The corridor leading to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party was already lined with candles. Nick himself was almost decapitated, but the atmosphere still didn't feel quite right.
The long, thin black candles burned with a blue flame, casting an eerie glow over everyone's faces.
"How do ghosts light candles?" Hermione asked curiously, staring at them. She remembered that ghosts were supposed to be intangible.
"Maybe the house-elves did it—or Peeves," George replied. "Ghosts can touch certain things, but they can't really affect the physical world. Lighting candles isn't something they can usually do." He had clearly learned a few things—proof that reading paid off.
As they walked down the corridor, the temperature dropped with every step. Harry shivered and wrapped his robes tighter around himself.
Seeing this, George took out his wand and gave it a gentle wave, casting a protective charm over the three of them.
"What spell is this?" Hermione raised her hand, looking at the transparent, film-like layer covering her body.
"Elemental resistance," George explained. "It's an adapted defensive charm—not very powerful yet, but useful."
Beyond trying to restore ancient magic, George had also been working on modifying and improving existing spells.
After all, wizards were physically fragile and needed protection, and the current spell system still had plenty of room for improvement.
"This is really convenient," Harry said, poking the invisible layer. It felt like a thin film of water clinging to his skin, effortless and light. He took a deep breath, feeling warm air fill his lungs. "That's amazing."
George smiled slightly. "I'm trying to develop a version with a filtering function. It's not perfect yet, but the basics are there."
"You need to start thinking like wizards," George went on. "If something feels uncomfortable or difficult, solve it with magic. If one spell doesn't work—use two."
They walked on until they heard a sound like fingernails scraping against a blackboard. Everyone frowned.
"What kind of music is that?" Ron muttered. Even with the resistance charm, it was irritating. Without magic, it would be unbearable.
"Maybe it is music," Hermione said uncertainly. "They are ghosts, after all—not monsters."
"Ghosts are what's left behind when wizards die with strong emotions," George said. "Their senses are completely different from the living." In truth, even the wizarding world knew very little about ghosts.
After all, there were far more pressing matters. Until the magical world became more developed, many subjects were simply ignored—either due to lack of funding or lack of interest.
"I hope the party isn't too bad," Ron muttered under his breath. He wasn't expecting much, so at least he wouldn't be disappointed.
They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at the door, dressed in black velvet like an opera performer.
"My dearest friends," he said mournfully, as though grieving his own death. "Welcome, welcome—I am deeply moved that you came."
He removed his feathered hat and bowed like a gracious host.
The sight inside was astonishing.
The underground classroom was packed with hundreds of pearly-white, semi-transparent figures. Most of them floated above a crowded dance floor, swaying to the eerie music produced by a band of musical saws.
The musicians hovered above a stage draped in black cloth, while chandeliers overhead held countless candles burning with a cold, midnight-blue light.
It felt as though they had stepped into a realm of wandering spirits—a gathering straight out of myth.
"I've never seen so many ghosts," Harry said, genuinely amazed. There were more here than all the students and teachers in Hogwarts combined.
"I doubt anyone has," George said thoughtfully—and this time, he knew he was right.
He had expected Nick to invite a few dozen ghosts, but not hundreds—perhaps even thousands. It was unbelievable.
Don't underestimate that number. The entire wizarding population of Britain was only around three thousand. The ghosts gathered here made up more than an eighth of that—and more than twice the population of Hogwarts itself.
Even more astonishing was that Nick had invited them all. Clearly, there were far more ghosts in the world than anyone realized.
It was entirely possible that the number of ghosts in the magical world rivaled—or even exceeded—the number of living people.
After all, Hogwarts celebrations rarely gathered this many attendees, and Nick certainly wasn't more famous than the school itself.
Of course, ghosts had all the time in the world and were endlessly bored. They gathered only occasionally, and many would eagerly attend such events. But just imagining thousands of ghosts scattered across the world was enough to make one pause.
If even a fraction of them could be organized, they could become a powerful force.
After all, ghosts could speak—and most retained their own thoughts.
That alone was remarkable.
(To be continued…)
