The Headless Haunt Part 2

[fantastic_jackie]

Title: The Headless Haunt

Author: Patriot Jackie

Rating: Strong PG-13

Warnings: Decapitation, dismemberment, violent images and sounds, but NO gore

Stylistic Warning: Multiple POV’s and tenses with no warning

Prompts: Day of Ghosts, Horror, Picture #4 (but 2 and 31 sorta work, too)

Word Count: 9,835 words

Summary: When ghostly members of the Headless Hunt begin to disappear one by one, only First-Year Ravenclaw Teddy Lupin notices. Curiosity gets the best of him and leads to a discovery: the Headless Horseman has a new haunt. But now the Horseman wants the Lupins’ heads. AU

Author’s Notes: Written with the intention of entering the October metamorfic_moon challenge. 
NOT happy about having to split this. >.>

Part 1

 

“I apologise for my tardiness,” he says coolly, silver eyebrows arched at the scene before him: Mum’s Patronus of Dad fighting with the Headless Horseman. “I wanted a bit of backup, but unfortunately, he seems to have found you quite early on. – Are you really sure I’m needed here?”

 

Mum chances an alarmed glance in his direction.

 

“Not unless we want to find out whether the bite from the patronus of a werewolf will turn the undead spirit of a headless Hessian soldier into an undead werewolf every full moon,” Dad replies jokingly.

 

“Merlin, that would be a new breed, wouldn’t it?”

 

But before Dad can comment on it anymore, the Horseman is finally able to make his move. Mum’s fading Patronus soars across the room and vanishes, the Horseman triumphantly twirling his freed sword by the hilt. I hear Dad cry out and the screech of tables and chairs behind as I hit the ground a second time tonight.

 

When I look again, the scene has completely changed: Mum is no longer standing before the Horseman, but is lying on the ground like me, and Dad’s on top of her. And Nick… Nick is standing quite calmly with his sword withdrawn, interceding again between the Horseman and his victim.

 

All is silent but for the grind of metal on ghostly metal.

 

And then, moaning disturbs the air around us, growing louder with a steady crescendo. I feel a chill run down my spine.

 

They come, pouring in through the walls, headless ghost after ghost wander in inside, their bodies floating awkwardly, arms outstretched and legs following lethargic. They surround the Horseman and with their ghostly hands, hold his horse in place.

 

“It’s just you and me,” Nick tells the Horseman.

 

The Horseman slides off his horse, seeing it’s of no avail to attempt moving, and in a fluid motion, brings his sword crashing down. But Nick easily blocks it. The blows from the Horseman come quickly and powerfully, but Nick, aside from his intense concentration, doesn’t seem to be worried.

 

The swordsman’s quick, wide arcs cause Nick to play mainly defence, and he’s forced backwards, backwards, backwards into the wall.

 

Remembering what Nick said – or didn’t say – about ghosts and dying, I can’t stand by helplessly. Running forward, I slide and grab my wand, and then, pointing it at a desk, call out, “Wingardium Leviosa!” The Horseman may just slice it in half, but hopefully it will buy enough time for Nick to escape.

 

… Or to sever the Horseman’s arm from his body. And then to stab him through the heart…

 

“You are fallen,” Nick says shortly. Then, “Teddy! Do it now!”

 

“Do what?” I ask, confused and dreading.

 

“Put an end to him!

 

“But…” My protest dies in my throat as I look to the giant sword still in the gasp of the Horseman’s severed limb. Lost in indecision, I watch helplessly as the Horseman grasps onto Nick’s sword, still stabbed through his chest, and begins to push against it.

 

“Teddy….!” Nick calls me, but I can’t move. Not towards him.

 

“Teddy.” It’s the quiet, commanding voice of my dad, and I turn around to face him.

 

Sitting on the floor, he’s gently holding Mum’s arm, who is leaning against him with a grimace across her face. Her wrist is twisted grossly; I realise with a start it’s broken. I search her face, and she gives me a weak smile.

 

“You can do it,” Dad says.

 

I find myself shaking my head. “How can I even lift that?”

 

“Teddy!” Nick grunts.

 

Dad smiles at me. “You’ve been lifting heavier things all night.”

 

I blink in realisation and feeling confident for the moment, spin around and point my wand at the sword. Nick is still struggling with the Horseman, but I don’t allow myself to think about any of it lest I lose my nerve.

 

“Wingardium Leviosa!” The sword and arm rise up together and hover for a moment. Checking my aim once and then twice, I send it speeding forward and close my eyes.

 

I still hear the sickening crunch as it cuts through his armour and middle, and the Horseman’s horse begins to whinny in earnest.

 

Chancing a glance to see what I’ve done, I open my eyes slowly and then stare. It’s an awkward sight to see someone’s own sword held by their own hand and arm pierced through their own back. I have a hard time believing I am responsible.

 

“Bravo, Teddy!” Nick says in a relieved voice.

 

The Horseman backs away from Nick towards his horse. I notice that the headless ghosts are able to detach the Horseman’s bag from the saddle, and they retreat from the two black figures.

 

And then an unearthly, blood-curdling scream emits from somewhere within the Horseman, the sound mingling with his horse’s cries. I cover my ears to block out the noise.

 

Dark, black light shines through every crack and crevice in the Horseman’s armour and glows dimly from his severed neck and arm, and the same is true for his horse. It’s a strange light, not really bright, but growing in intensity. It grows and grows, seemingly spreading the crevices wider.

 

I almost can’t tell that I’ve covered my ears when the headless ghosts are successful in opening the Horseman’s satchel. Still crying for help, the heads tumble out, rolling about the floor while their bodies give bumbling chase. Then the heads realise they’re free and give a cheer.

 

And then, quite suddenly, the Horseman is completely silent, as is his horse. Strangely illuminated, he stands completely frozen for a few moments.

 

And then he and his horse explode into a thick cloud of black dust. Except for the black ash that covers us all and the room, there’s not a trace that the Headless Horseman ever existed, and the ghosts, no longer missing their heads, give another joyous outcry.

 

“I haven’t had that much excitement in centuries!” Nick says gleefully.

 

“Aren’t you forgetting the Battle of Hogwarts only nine years ago?” Dad asks with a raised brow.

 

“Well, I couldn’t do much but watch and hope then, could I? This time, I was actually useful, and we ghosts like to feel that every now and then.”

 

“Ahem,” a voice interrupts us. Turning, I see the ghost I witnessed with Will and Pat last night lose his head. He approaches us regally, his head resting upon his neck, hidden behind the same ruffles many of the other ghosts with severed heads have. “Well, that was certainly the worst prank ever gone awry in the history of the Hunt,” he says.

 

“Prank?” Dad asks as he reaches down to give Mum a hand standing. “That was a prank?”

 

“Can’t believe he followed us…” the ghost continued absentmindedly. “It was just a bit of fun; we thought he’d be an excellent addition to our company. Unfortunately, he was very… vengeful…”

 

“I should have known it was something so simple,” Nick says sarcastically.

 

The ghost’s eyes dart to him. “Sir Nicholas.”

 

“Sir Patrick.”

 

He sniffs. “Well, surely you didn’t think we chose this location to spend Halloween as our first option. We only came after we’d been chased out of Sleepy Hollow by the Horseman; we had no idea he would follow us.”

 

“So the Horseman was after you, then?” Mum asks, tone dark.

 

“Yes. He sought revenge after we paid him a little visit that didn’t go quite as planned.”

 

“Well, that answers that question,” Dad states with forced false cheer.

 

“Indeed. Now, to whom do I owe my salvation and that of my colleagues?” Sir Podmore announces pompously looking around. His eyes fall on Mum and Dad first, then on me, and finally, they narrow when he reaches Nick. “Fate could not be so cruel,” he mutters with an arrogant sneer.

 

“Unfortunately for both of us, it was,” Nick replies stoically. His eyes shift to me. “But I cannot claim credit for the Horseman’s demise; you are owed that to young Teddy here.”

 

Sir Podmore’s eyebrow raises, and he addresses me with a bow. I can’t help wondering how his head remains in place on his neck. “I offer you my deepest gratitude, Teddy. We’d surely be lost without you.”

 

I look quickly to my parents for some clue how to handle myself, but Dad is focused on healing Mum’s wrist, and she simply shrugs at me. I turn back to Sir Podmore.

 

“S-sure,” I say casually. “No problem.”

 

The eyebrow remains quirked. “Is there anything that I can do to repay you for your service?”

 

“Well… If you could possibly convince my parents not to ground me-“

 

“Not a chance,” they deadpan together, and I openly wince.

 

“You’re lucky you’re in school,” Mum continues, testing her healed wrist experimentally.

 

But then Dad adds, “I wouldn’t count that as a blessing…”

 

“Okay, then…” I suck my breath in through my teeth, thinking. “I think,” I decide, “That you can probably help Nick more than you can me. He deserves it more than I do, anyway; we all would be dead without him. – Or… uh…” I fumble, catching myself. “We wouldn’t be…here… anymore.”

 

“Very well,” he says haughtily. Begrudgingly, he faces Nick. “And what can I do-“

 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” Nick drawls sarcastically.

 

Sir Podmore huffs in irritation and for a moment, says nothing. Then, “Let me consult with the others.”

 

The members of the Headless Hunt, all crammed into half of Dad’s classroom, await Sir Podmore as he approaches, and then they all gather around him and a whispered conversation ensues.

 

“What do you think my odds are?” Nick whispers to me.

 

“They can’t say no,” I say confidently. “He might, but not all of them. They owe you their…” I trail off, thinking. “Well, they wouldn’t be here without you, and they can’t ignore that.”

 

The ghostly group parts for their leader to approach us once again. Sir Podmore says, “Well, Sir Nicholas, it appears that the entire Hunt and myself are in your debt. Exempting myself from the Hunt as a whole, everyone is in agreement.” His eyebrow twitches and jaw tightens as he continues, “In light of your actions tonight… I would like to reconsider your request to join our ranks.”

 

I grin, and Nick seems pleased, as well. With a small smile, he imitates a minute bow to the members of the Hunt and then says cordially, “No.”

 

I’m not the only one surprised.

 

“No?” Sir Podmore asks indignantly.

 

“No.”

 

“Why ever not? Did you not just say-?”

 

“I did, and the answer is no. I don’t want to join.”

 

Sir Podmore is fuming. “You spent all these years begging me, pleading with me to let you join, and I let you join only to find out that you did it all so you could reject me?!”

 

Nick grins, and I hear Mum’s snort of muffled laughter. “Yes.” Sir Podmore makes a strangled sound. “Surely you didn’t think I’d want to after you crashed my death day party?”

 

Sir Podmore only glares at Nick before turning on his heel and floating away in a fit of fury.

 

“In my humble opinion, it doesn’t seem like Sir Podmore will remain the leader of the Headless Hunt much longer,” Nick says in a low, conspiratorial voice and motions to the crowd of angry Hunt members. They glare at their leader, some whispering and grumbling to each other, and I can’t help but be pleased for Nick’s sake. “Should that time come, I may consider joining the Hunt…” he says with a very questionable lilt to his voice. Then he smiles and confides with me, “But I think I may just be quite content to stay here.”

 

I grin. “I think we’d be quite content with that, too.”

 

“Well, Teddy,” Dad says grinning, placing a dirty hand on my equally dirty robes. “If you’re supposed to be the next Harry Potter, you’re off to a great start.”

 

“But…” I say hopefully, “Harry never got grounded!” It’s worth a shot, right?

 

 

The End

AN: So I’m a bit guilty in this one. From a technical standpoint, there was a lot of extra detail here. Sorry if I left you wondering why it was there, but I guess I just wanted to do a mini-mirror of the books so far as the way it unfolded. I know that took a little more time and was a little off from the plot’s focus, but I hope I tied it in well enough to be enjoyable.

 

The ghosts’ connectivity to a haunt I came up with while pondering how the Headless Hunt was free to move about while other ghosts seemed to be tied to certain locations. It was never expressly stated that ghosts in the HP universe must haunt a certain place, but I figured I’d come up with some sort of explanation. - Especially since the Headless Horseman isn’t supposed to be able to cross that bridge… ;)

 

Also, I figured Nick had to have the Sir title for some reason or another, not to mention that he’s the Gryffindor ghost, and I always assumed that had more to do with his life than his death. :)