Harry Potter and the Dovahkiin

It was already Halloween night—the night of the first basilisk attack according to canon—but the fact that everything was still following canon somehow made Ben even more nervous. If things were going to go off the rails, tonight seemed like the perfect time.

Karl the snake hadn't reported anything unusual, and scanning the Great Hall, Ben didn't see Marietta Edgecombe anywhere. A quick glance at the Marauder's Map confirmed she was still in Ravenclaw Tower.

He couldn't just sit around and wait for things to go sideways—he needed to be there in person. And for that, he needed a solid excuse to skip the feast.

Luckily, he'd planned ahead.

"Hi, Harry," said Ben, joining the trio as they walked past the Great Hall toward the dungeons.

"Hi, Ben," Harry said.

"Hello, Ron," Ben added.

"'Lo," Ron mumbled, still peering into the Great Hall, practically inhaling the aroma of the Halloween feast.

"Hey, Hermione," Ben said.

"Hi," Hermione replied with an eye roll as she pulled a roll of parchment from her bag and handed it to him.

"Here—your History of Magic assignment," she said, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.

"Thanks a bunch, you're a lifesaver," Ben said, tucking the parchment away with a bright smile. Hermione scoffed.

Ben had saved a ton of time this year thanks to Hermione. Of course, he still had to cut it down a few feet to avoid getting caught—there was no one else in the school who'd write a five-foot-long essay when the professor had only asked for a foot. Luckily, there were charmed quills that could trim it down without losing the important bits.

"Maybe try writing it yourself next time," Hermione said, giving him a pointed look.

"I did write it," Ben said. "Just… in my head. You made it real."

Hermione gave him a hard stare.

"Think of it as teamwork," Ben added brightly.

"More like plagiarism," Hermione muttered, but her lips twitched.

"Are you not going to the Halloween feast?" Harry asked, noticing that Ben was still trailing after them toward the dungeons.

"Nope. Got an invite to Sir Nicholas's five hundredth deathday party," Ben said.

"How'd you get dragged into that? I thought you could see the future or something," said Ron, sounding both sympathetic and a little too pleased that Ben was about to suffer as well.

The trio had ended up in this situation because Harry had, rather unfortunately, promised Nick he'd attend after the ghost helped him escape trouble with Filch. Hermione, of course, wouldn't let him go back on his word, which meant all three of them were now trudging toward the dungeons against their will.

"I asked, actually. Always wanted to see what a ghost party's like, and Sir Nicholas was kind enough to extend an invitation when I mentioned it," Ben said.

Ron's face twisted. "Bloody hell, mate. You wanted to go? You know they don't serve human food there, right? Just… rotten stuff?"

"Yeah, Ron, I'll manage. I think it'll be fun," Ben said.

"Sure you do," Hermione said, giving him a sceptical look.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I mean you, Ben, would never willingly go unless there was something to gain—or something unusual going on."

"Oh, Hermione, come on. I'm not that bad," Ben said, though the teasing lilt in his voice made it sound more like a confession than a denial.

"If you're done with the drama, you can tell us what's really up," said Hermione, well used to Ben's antics.

"It's nothing, really. I just thought it'd be fun to do something different on Halloween," said Ben, but he could tell Hermione wasn't buying it. Since she didn't press the issue, he didn't bother explaining himself further.

Speaking of fun, Ben was a little disappointed he wouldn't be around to witness the fruits of his meticulously planned Halloween prank this year.

The dungeons were cold—colder than usual. Candles lined the way to the party, their flames burning an eerie blue that somehow made the air feel even chillier. The awful ghostly music echoing through the corridor sounded like a thousand nails scraping against a blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered.

"Well, it's definitely making me feel things," said Ben, suppressing a shiver.

They turned a corner and finally saw Headless Nick standing at a doorway draped in black velvet. And yes, you read that right. Not Nearly Headless Nick—completely headless Nick.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…"

He swept off his head along with his hat and gave them a deep bow, but the trio were too shocked to move.

"N-Nick, your h-head, it's—" Harry stammered.

"Ah, I know! Fantastic, isn't it? And all thanks to Mr Brown, of course. One swift strike of that ghostly blade, and—snick—off it came, clean as you like! Marvelous work! Would you care for a closer look?" Nick said excitedly.

"Yeah, I'm good," said Ron, taking a step back. "That's a sight I could've lived my whole life without."

The group collectively decided that looking at Ben was far preferable to looking at Nick's severed head. Ben, for his part, only scratched his own in mock embarrassment.

"It's no big deal, Nick. Least I could do," he said.

"Oh, rubbish! My dear boy, you've done me the greatest of favours. Thanks to you, I shall at last take my rightful place in the Headless Hunt—it has been my deathlong wish! For that, I shall be eternally in your debt." He bowed deeply to Ben, lowering his head in his hands with solemn gratitude.

This time, Ben actually looked a bit embarrassed. The truth was, he'd only been testing whether his new conjuration perk worked on more than just Daedric summons—maybe it could send ghosts off to the afterlife, or… wherever they were supposed to go. Turns out, it couldn't.

On the bright side, he did confirm that bound weapons could slice through spirits just fine. Not exactly what he was aiming for, but hey, that was still useful information. Call it an accidental breakthrough in the field of applied necromancy.

-End of Chapter-