The aisle leading to Nick's party, which was almost headless, had already been lit with candles. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

But the effect is not flattering: they are all small, thin candles with black bodies.

When it burns, it glows blue, and even when it shines on their faces full of life, it looks very eerie.

Moreover, the three-dimensional faces of Westerners seem to be inherently full of terrifying indescribable meanings under the swaying candlelight.

As they approached the underground classroom at the end of the hallway of the banquet venue, the temperature around them had been decreasing at a very noticeable rate.

Vio felt Harry next to him tremble, wrapping his robe around until he couldn't tighten it tighter.

At this moment, they all heard a voice, very sharp and piercing, like a thousand dried nails scraping and hanging on a steel grit board.

"That's called music, too?" Ron whispered.

Vio realized that she was still wondering if there was something going on at Hogwarts?

Even though she knew it couldn't be, the voice did feel like it.

In this case, she suddenly thought of Professor Lockhart. She even wondered if Nick really brought Professor Lockhart here.

She had some headaches and was in a bad situation, and she needed to negotiate with Professor Snape to stop taking Lockhart's Defence Against the Dark Arts class, but Professor Snape didn't know if he was in a better mood.

She wasn't at all worried that the professor would ignore her after listening to her request, which might have been a little overconfident.

However, she firmly believed that the professor should also hate Lockhart's fancy, and that he would want Slytherin students to learn the true Defence Against the Dark Arts technique.

It's good for Vio, Slytherin, and Harry.

It's just that for now, she and Hermione glanced at each other, and they didn't want to answer Ron under the low pressure, trying to hold on to some of the remaining heat in their bodies.

As soon as they turned the corner, they saw Nick, who was almost headless, standing in a doorway, waiting to greet the guests.

He seemed to be dressed solemnly today, though the same wheel-like collared girdle he wore when his head was beheaded, but with a black velvet curtain draped over it.

When he saw that it was a few of them, he smiled pleasantly, but soon remembered that it was his own death, so he restrained his smile again.

"My dear friend," he said with infinite sorrow, "welcome, welcome to me, I am glad that you are here. ”

Compared with the sadness on his face, this is a heartfelt truth.

Nick, who was almost headless, took off his feathered hat and bowed to invite them in.

As soon as they entered the low underground classroom, they were all attracted by the strange sight.

The underground classroom was filled with hundreds of milky, translucent moans, mostly wandering the crowded dance grounds, waltzing to the sound of thirty musical saws.

This terrible and trembling sound was what they had heard outside before. The band playing the saws sat on a stage covered with black cloth. Each reveled in it, shaking its head and beating the rhythm with the music saw that made a wailing sound in his hand.

Above them, a thousand candles were also lit in a chandelier, from top to bottom, crowding all the layers of the chandelier, emitting the blue light of midnight.

They whispered, and the inhalation of several people formed a cloud of mist in front of them, as if they had walked into a cold room.

"Let's take a look around, it's kind of interesting here," Harry said reluctantly.

He only made this suggestion because he wanted to warm his feet, and he regretted not coming when he was in the auditorium, but Hermione said that you should keep your word.

Now, if he is given another chance, he must not be a man of his word, at least not in this matter.

"I don't really want to, but I don't think there's anything I can do but walk" Ron's teeth kept chattering, causing him to jump a little when he spoke.

"If you must do this, be careful not to pass through anyone's body. ”

Vio looked at the ghosts whose faces were becoming more and more blurred in the white mist she breathed, and thought to himself that if he accidentally died in this world, he would better go on honestly.

Never be a ghost, or you will have to think about inviting someone to the death party every year.

They walked slowly around the edge of the dance hall, past a group of sullen nuns, a ragged man in heavy chains, and a fat monk.

The fat friar seemed to be just looking, for he was chatting with a knight with an arrow stuck in his head, asking him if he wanted to go to his feast.

The bloody Barrow was also here, skinny, with straight eyes and silver blood stains all over his body.

He stayed in the corner, without blinking an eye, the most peaceful, ghost-looking ghost in the audience.

Three of the ghosts in the four houses were seen, and Vio naturally searched for Helena, the ghost of Ravenclaw.

"Oh, oops," Hermione interrupted her search, she held her foot and urged, "Turn around, turn around, I don't want to talk to the crying myrtle"

"Who?" asked Harry and Ron as they hurried back the way they came.

"She was in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," Hermione said.

"Huh, she's not in her right mind?" Ron asked, mouth wide in disbelief. Harry didn't want to laugh, but showed a few teeth.

"Well," Hermione thought for a moment, then said solemnly, "but more often than not, she just couldn't control her mood. The bathroom was out of order all year round, because she kept throwing tantrums and spilling water all over the place, and I would never go there as long as I could avoid it. When you go to the toilet, she screams at you, it's terrible."

"The one you told me last time?" Vio asked, "Didn't you say she's been in a better mood lately?"

"Oh, it was during that time, she didn't know if she had found the true meaning of ghost life, she would even leave the bathroom she used to call home, but recently she started repeating the same thing again, and luckily we just avoided her"

"Look at those!" Ron said.

At the other end of the basement classroom was a long table, also covered with black velvet, and they rushed forward before stopping in horror.

The smell makes you want to cut out your nose.

Large chunks of rotten meat were placed on beautiful silver plates, blackened, charcoal-baked cakes were piled on large trays, and there was a large amount of maggot-infested lamb tripe, a piece of cheese covered in green hair.

In the center of the table, a large tombstone-shaped gray cake with Nick's death date written in caramel on it.

"Hey, you're here!" a voice called to them enthusiastically.

After turning around, an unexpected person appeared next to them, and Hermione, Harry, and Ron all felt strange. (To be continued.) "Elegy for Glory" only represents the author's point of view, if its content is found to be in violation of national laws and conflicts, please delete it, the position is only committed to providing a healthy and green reading platform.

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