WutYee/HarryPotter_books_1to7 · Datasets at Hugging Face

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“Sirius Black,” said Nick.
“But you did!” said Harry angrily. “You came back — you’re dead
and you didn’t disappear —”
“Wizards can leave an imprint of themselves upon the earth, to
walk palely where their living selves once trod,” said Nick miserably.
“But very few wizards choose that path.”
“Why not?” said Harry. “Anyway — it doesn’t matter — Sirius
won’t care if it’s unusual, he’ll come back, I know he will!”
And so strong was his belief that Harry actually turned his head to
check the door, sure, for a split second, that he was going to see Sirius,
pearly white and transparent but beaming, walking through it toward
him.
“He will not come back,” repeated Nick quietly. “He will have . . .
gone on.”
“What d’you mean, ‘gone on’?” said Harry quickly. “Gone on
where? Listen — what happens when you die, anyway? Where do you
go? Why doesn’t everyone come back? Why isn’t this place full of
ghosts? Why — ?”
“I cannot answer,” said Nick.
“You’re dead, aren’t you?” said Harry exasperatedly. “Who can an-
swer better than you?”
“I was afraid of death,” said Nick. “I chose to remain behind. I
sometimes wonder whether I oughtn’t to have . . . Well, that is neither
here nor there. . . . In fact, I am neither here nor there. . . .” He gave
a small sad chuckle. “I know nothing of the secrets of death, Harry, for
I chose my feeble imitation of life instead. I believe learned wizards
study the matter in the Department of Mysteries —”
“Don’t talk to me about that place!” said Harry fiercely.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
862
“I am sorry not to have been more help,” said Nick gently. “Well
. . . well, do excuse me . . . the feast, you know . . .”
And he left the room, leaving Harry there alone, gazing blankly at
the wall through which Nick had disappeared.
Harry felt almost as though he had lost his godfather all over again
in losing the hope that he might be able to see or speak to him once
more. He walked slowly and miserably back up through the empty
castle, wondering whether he would ever feel cheerful again.
He had turned the corner toward the Fat Lady’s corridor when he
saw somebody up ahead fastening a note to a board on the wall. A sec-
ond glance showed him that it was Luna. There were no good hiding
places nearby, she was bound to have heard his footsteps, and in any
case, Harry could hardly muster the energy to avoid anyone at the
moment.
“Hello,” said Luna vaguely, glancing around at him as she stepped
back from the notice.
“How come you’re not at the feast?” Harry asked.
“Well, I’ve lost most of my possessions,” said Luna serenely. “Peo-
ple take them and hide them, you know. But as it’s the last night, I re-
ally do need them back, so I’ve been putting up signs.”
She gestured toward the notice board, upon which, sure enough,
she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea
for their return.
An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from
the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few
moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna.
“How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning.
“Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd,
you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.”
Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather
painfully.

THE SECOND
WAR BEGINS
863
“That’s no reason for them to take your things,” he said flatly.
“D’you want help finding them?”
“Oh no,” she said, smiling at him. “They’ll come back, they always
do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway . . .
why aren’t you at the feast?”
Harry shrugged. “Just didn’t feel like it.”
“No,” said Luna, observing him with those oddly misty, protuber-
ant eyes. “I don’t suppose you do. That man the Death Eaters killed
was your godfather, wasn’t he? Ginny told me.”
Harry nodded curtly, but found that for some reason he did not
mind Luna talking about Sirius. He had just remembered that she too
could see thestrals.
“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve
known ever died?”
“Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary
witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells
went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled.
“Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel
very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s
not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?”
“Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly.
She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them,
just behind the veil, didn’t you?”
“You mean . . .”
“In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of
sight, that’s all. You heard them.”
They looked at each other. Luna was smiling slightly. Harry did not
know what to say, or to think. Luna believed so many extraordinary
things . . . yet he had been sure he had heard voices behind the veil
too. . . .

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
864

“Sirius Black,” said Nick.

“But you did!” said Harry angrily. “You came back — you’re dead

and you didn’t disappear —”

“Wizards can leave an imprint of themselves upon the earth, to

walk palely where their living selves once trod,” said Nick miserably.

“But very few wizards choose that path.”

“Why not?” said Harry. “Anyway — it doesn’t matter — Sirius

won’t care if it’s unusual, he’ll come back, I know he will!”

And so strong was his belief that Harry actually turned his head to

check the door, sure, for a split second, that he was going to see Sirius,

pearly white and transparent but beaming, walking through it toward

him.

“He will not come back,” repeated Nick quietly. “He will have . . .

gone on.”

“What d’you mean, ‘gone on’?” said Harry quickly. “Gone on

where? Listen — what happens when you die, anyway? Where do you

go? Why doesn’t everyone come back? Why isn’t this place full of

ghosts? Why — ?”

“I cannot answer,” said Nick.

“You’re dead, aren’t you?” said Harry exasperatedly. “Who can an-

swer better than you?”

“I was afraid of death,” said Nick. “I chose to remain behind. I

sometimes wonder whether I oughtn’t to have . . . Well, that is neither

here nor there. . . . In fact, I am neither here nor there. . . .” He gave

a small sad chuckle. “I know nothing of the secrets of death, Harry, for

I chose my feeble imitation of life instead. I believe learned wizards

study the matter in the Department of Mysteries —”

“Don’t talk to me about that place!” said Harry fiercely.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

862

“I am sorry not to have been more help,” said Nick gently. “Well

. . . well, do excuse me . . . the feast, you know . . .”

And he left the room, leaving Harry there alone, gazing blankly at

the wall through which Nick had disappeared.

Harry felt almost as though he had lost his godfather all over again

in losing the hope that he might be able to see or speak to him once

more. He walked slowly and miserably back up through the empty

castle, wondering whether he would ever feel cheerful again.

He had turned the corner toward the Fat Lady’s corridor when he

saw somebody up ahead fastening a note to a board on the wall. A sec-

ond glance showed him that it was Luna. There were no good hiding

places nearby, she was bound to have heard his footsteps, and in any

case, Harry could hardly muster the energy to avoid anyone at the

moment.

“Hello,” said Luna vaguely, glancing around at him as she stepped

back from the notice.

“How come you’re not at the feast?” Harry asked.

“Well, I’ve lost most of my possessions,” said Luna serenely. “Peo-

ple take them and hide them, you know. But as it’s the last night, I re-

ally do need them back, so I’ve been putting up signs.”

She gestured toward the notice board, upon which, sure enough,

she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea

for their return.

An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from

the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few

moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna.

“How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning.

“Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd,

you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.”

Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather

painfully.

THE SECOND

WAR BEGINS

863

“That’s no reason for them to take your things,” he said flatly.

“D’you want help finding them?”

“Oh no,” she said, smiling at him. “They’ll come back, they always

do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway . . .

why aren’t you at the feast?”

Harry shrugged. “Just didn’t feel like it.”

“No,” said Luna, observing him with those oddly misty, protuber-

ant eyes. “I don’t suppose you do. That man the Death Eaters killed

was your godfather, wasn’t he? Ginny told me.”

Harry nodded curtly, but found that for some reason he did not

mind Luna talking about Sirius. He had just remembered that she too

could see thestrals.

“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve

known ever died?”

“Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary

witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells

went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled.

“Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel

very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s

not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?”

“Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly.

She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them,

just behind the veil, didn’t you?”

“You mean . . .”

“In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of

sight, that’s all. You heard them.”

They looked at each other. Luna was smiling slightly. Harry did not

know what to say, or to think. Luna believed so many extraordinary

things . . . yet he had been sure he had heard voices behind the veil

too. . . .

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

864