Chapter 3
They come to an area where there are fewer stones, and here and there are sad bunches of flowers in frozen colours.
The last grave is just a mound of earth.
Harry and Ron look at each other. Now they've walked here and shuddered at the idea of walking in a graveyard, just to stand by a grave and have to do something terribly scary.
Turn a dead dog into a ghost!
Fred takes out his wand. He waves it through the air and whispers a spell.
The layer of snow on the frozen ground doesn't even move. A dark shape suddenly appeared from under the snow.
As if from nowhere, it is suddenly there. The dead dog.
It's an unknown breed with shaggy black fur and a long tail and it's pretty big.
‘Oh dear,’ whispers Ron.
Harry takes off his glasses, for suddenly his eyes sting with tears.
He takes out a handkerchief and dabs his eyes dry.
Harry puts his glasses back on and sees the twins staring at him.
‘That's it,' grins Fred.
'We're such stupid wimps,' George nods.
'That's the secret ingredient,' the twins say simultaneously.
‘What?’ Harry looks at the brothers in surprise.
‘What do you want from Harry,’ Ron asks suspiciously.
‘Listen up, guys.’ Fred snatches the handkerchief from Harry's hand. He spreads the handkerchief over the dog's head.
George puts his hands in the pockets of Harry's cloak and takes the bottle of life potion and the jar of beating heart.
'You can go now,' they say simultaneously. 'You are no longer needed.'
‘Are you creasy? Ron raises his chin belligerently. 'Did we fly all the way here for that? We're staying, right Harry?’
Harry nods quickly. ‘Of course we're staying,’ he quickly snatches the potion from George's hand. ‘We didn't steal this for nothing,’ he says stubbornly.
'Well, all right then.' Fred and George look at each other.
George opens the jar with the beating heart and pours the slippery contents onto the dog's chest.
'Now you, Harry,' says Fred.
Harry hesitates. He looks down at the dead animal and wonders if it wants to become a ghost. He looks up. Fred, Georg and Ron stare at him, each face equally curious.
‘If you don't dare , Harry?’ George holds out his hand.
'Oh, I dare.' Harry quickly pulls the cork out of the bottle. 'I was just wondering. Does a dog want to become a ghost?' He takes a deep breath and pours the contents of the bottle, from the tip of the snout to the tail, over the dead dog.
George and Fred stand to one side.
They raise their wands and solemnly cast a spell.
Harry notices Ron walks quickly towards him and feels him grab his arm.
Deeply impressed, the boys stare at the dog. The potion starts to glow. It starts to flow out and the big dog suddenly seems to emit light. The beating heart disappears inside him. The handkerchief dissolves into the air.
‘Harry!’ Ron grabs his arm again, ‘Look!
Harry covers his mouth to hold back a scream. A paw of the dog is moving!
Suddenly all the paws stretch out, as if the dog has been lying still long enough.
Suddenly it sits upright and everyone takes a big step backwards, because the dog is immediately a lot bigger than it had just seemed.
‘Say.’ George sounds a bit anxious. 'Am I imagining it or is that beast getting bigger?'
‘I see it, I see it too,’ Fred stammered. They all take another big step backwards.
Before their eyes, the dog, which was almost a metre high, grows bigger and bigger. Its legs, at first as big as a teacup, become the size of a big plate! The head, at first as big as a handbag, grows until it is as big as a school bag!
‘It works, look, it works,' says George triumphantly. ‘It's becoming transparent!’
Indeed, the solid form begins to lose its shape. They can see right through it!
But there is a catch. The dog sits motionless, its eyes closed.
‘Say, um, what did you guys do?’
Ron looks at his brothers, greying, ‘I think you just stuffed him!’
‘Wait, I now what to do.’ Ron bends down and grabs a big handful of snow.
Harry understands what Ron wants to do. ‘No Ron.’ He holds out his hand warningly.
‘Don't do that, he won't like it and...’
Too late! The snowball is already flying through the air and clatters against the snout of the enormous ghost dog, nearly two metres tall, broken up in a cloud of snow.
‘Oh, you stupid fool!’ Fred looks at him mischievously. ‘Don't you know that new ghosts are born like little babies, unsuspecting and innocent. They become kind or evil however someone treats them!'
'Hey, I thought it would fly right through,' Ron shrugs. 'What's evil about a snowball?'
The huge ghost dog is still sitting still, eyes closed.
‘You set him up,' Harry shouts. ‘Look at that, the stupid animal hasn't moved a foot!’
Ron quickly makes another snowball. Here boy," he taps his leg. ‘Here boy, get the ball. Come on, get the ball!’ He throws the snowball further away.
The ghost dog still sits motionless.
'Well,’ Harry walks over there. 'That's it then,' he says disappointed. 'Now we don't have a dog for nearly decapitated nick.' He reaches out a hand and pats the dog, for which he has to stand on tiptoe, on the muzzle. ‘Too bad, he says. 'I'm sure you would have made a great ghost dog.'
Maybe it was his voice, maybe the touch. Suddenly the dog opens its eyes and everyone is startled. Harry even jumps backwards, because those eyes are bright red!
‘Harry.’ Ron points in horror, 'Look, we've made a borrie.'
‘A, a what?’
Harry has no idea what a borrie is. But he does know that being in a dark graveyard in the middle of the night is never a good omen. When there's also a huge ghost dog staring at you with blood red eyes, also.
‘Well eh,’ Fred staps towards them. George hurries along.
'Let's go,' the brothers say simultaneously.
The dog stands up! He's immediately as big as a house and his fire-red eyes look at them in turn. Then he looks straight at Harry. The borries doesn't do anything else, he just stares at Harry. He doesn't tilt his head. He doesn't wag his tail. For Harry, the staring is becoming quite scary.
‘Okay,’ George grabs Harry by one arm, Fred Ron by the other.
'Let's go,' the twin brothers say again.
The dog takes a step. He stares at Harry and takes another step.
Harry is just happy that George is pulling him along. The boys turn and in a huddle they rush through the crunching snow past the graves of pets.
'A thousand red blood moons.' Fred looks back, ‘He's following us!’
Indeed, the dog follows them, just like that, at his leisure.
Naturally, they start to walk faster. So does the dog.
‘Just wait.’ George remains standing. He grabs the stuffed cat from the snow basket and holds it up as if it were a toy. ‘Here, boy, here, come on,' he beckons. ‘Take the cuddly toy.’ He throws the cat away, as far as he can.
They watch breathlessly. The borrie takes a leap. He then runs straight through a large tombstone, snatches the cat's body from the snow and bites it into pieces, shaking its head!
‘Get out of here,' Fred hisses.
The boys turn around and start running as fast as they can!
They don't dare turn around, but above the crunching of the snow they hear something approaching with dull regularity. It sounds like someone throwing down full bin bags.
‘Aaarrgghh!’ Harry screeches as if a bucket of ice-cold water suddenly slides right through him. It's the ghost dog! He's jumped right through Harry and is turning around at lightning speed. They don't slow down and Harry screams again when the dog again jumps.
They're at the fence. They run between them. Fred closes it neatly, then the brothers grab their brooms and get going.
Harry instinctively cringes when a big grey thing leaps at him.
‘Harry!’ Ron screams at him panicked, ‘Come on!’
Fred and George are already flying away. The broom with George and Ron is already twenty metres away. Fred's broom stops and flies low in front of him.
Harry runs towards it waving his arms wildly. He doesn't even scream when the Borrie jumps right through him again and then around him in a wild dance. All in an attempt to get an arm or a leg of him.
Harry falls! He covers his head and squeezes his eyes shut tightly when the ghost dog near his head makes a horrible sloshing noise, as if it were trying to bite his head off!
‘Gotcha!’ Fred bends right through the ghost dog and grabs Harry from the snow.
They fly away swinging wildly, as the ghost dog keeps trying to jump on Harry.
‘Higher, please higher,' Harry begs. It seems every time they slap a frozen towel against him the dog slides right through his legs.
‘Faster,' George shouts. 'Then we'll get rid of him.'
They all lean forward and the brooms flash away. The borries do pursue, but luckily he stay behind.
As inconspicuously as possible, Fred and George stow their brooms in the owl tower. Then, as if they had just sent off a parcel, they rush in through the back door, which fortunately was ajar.
Hesitantly they crept through the corridor, as if afraid to run into a teacher or Filch.
‘That creepy beast will stay away, won't it?’ Ron looks at his brothers hopefully. 'We did get rid of that beast, didn't we?'
‘I'm sure we did,’ George and Fred nod to their younger brother in encouragement.
They're in the hall, hurriedly walking towards the stairs. Harry hears it before he even looks back. Out of nowhere the ghost dog appears and runs straight at him.
‘Away!’ George bravely stands in front of Harry. 'Get out of here, you big lomp, leave him alone!'
Borries doesn't even listen. He jumps right through George and thus through Harry.
The boys all scream at the same time and dive into each other.
‘Wingardium Leviota!’ Ron bravely stands in front of Harry and waves his wand. The ghost dog ignores him, floats right through Ron and starts jumping around Harry again.
‘Help’! Harry cringes with goose bumps all over his body from the icy attacks.
‘Get rid of that scary beast,’ he moans.
'Stop!’ A low voice shouts commandingly. ‘Stop it, you bad dog. Shame on you!’
Harry notices that he's no longer being attacked with a freezing tongue and straightens his glasses. The Borries actually listens and sits up straight with... almost decapitated Nick!
‘Good boy! Good dog,’ Henk patted the Borries on the head. ‘What a sweet little honnie you are,' he says. ‘Is he a good doggie?’
Harry stands up again. Ron, Fred and George quickly join him.
Almost decapitated Nick laughs. He's still barely through, but at least his face looks a lot happier.
'Happy Christmas, dear boys,' he says jovially. ‘Harry, what a beautiful dog this is. Did you get it for Christmas?’
Harry notices that his friends say nothing and dares to walk forward.
‘Well nick, we um. We'd noticed you're always alone and we thought so.' He looks back to Ron for support.
Ron nods at him and quickly stands next to Harry. 'We raised this dog for you,' Ron hurries to say. 'He's for you.'
‘What, for me?’ Nick looks at the borries. Who look at him with tilted head and wagging tail. 'It's great,' says nick to their relief. ‘Boys! What a wonderful Christmas present. What a wonderful animal.’ To their relief, he starts to become transparent again.
It is clear that the Borries are also very happy with their new owner.
Almost decapitated Nick hugs the big dog and George, Fred, Ron and Harry look at each other with satisfaction. ‘We did it,’ lauch Harry. ‘Nick is not alone any more.’
‘Now you'll never have to feel sad again because you didn't get a dog for Christmas,’ says Ron with a smile.
‘What?’ Nick looks at him in surprise, 'I could what?'
'Well um,' Ron looks at his brothers for support.
'Well um, every Christmas you're so terribly gloomy and absent-minded,' Harry hurries to say. 'We thought you were grieving for something.'
'Oooh,'Nick nods understandingly. 'Grieving about something? Well no, not that, but I was upset,' he smiles. ‘You do know that I always want to be a member of the headhunters, but I'm not allowed to join because my head is still attached?’
They nod diligently.
'The registration date for the ghost polo group is towards every Christmas, which is why I sometimes seem a bit absent-minded. Every time, I try to think of something to get in on. But no,' almost decapitated Nick gives his head a jerk.
They have seen it before, but are still shocked every time to see a head flying almost off the neck. The Borries immediately fly at it and start to chew Henk's head diligently, drooling with delight.
‘No Susie, off,' Nick shouts happily. ‘Don't chew on the boss' head, you big lomp.’
‘Susie? The boys look at each other in surprise.
‘Yes, it's a girl,' nods Henk. He wipes threads of drool from his face with his sleeve and wants to say something, but his face becomes drawn. ‘There they are again,' he says gloomily.
They hear it before he has to explain. There comes the polo group of leaders already. They hear the hunting horns and the trampling of the ghost horses swell.
Suddenly something flies through the air. ‘Hey, Nick.’ The head of Sir Nicholas the Third, flies past them. ‘Merry Christmas.’
Yes,' Henk nods gloomily, 'you too.’
Just as quickly, the borries make a leap and snatch the ghostly head straight out of the air.
‘Hey!’ nick is startled when Susie makes the jump. Sir Nicholas the third looks dumbfounded when he is grabbed and lands at Henk's feet.
‘Good boy!’ Nick pats Susie on the head with satisfaction. ‘Good doggy of the boss.’
The ferocious pack of horsemen fly through the windows with loud clinking of glass and thunder down the hall in search of the head of their leader.
'Hey, I'm here,' Nicolas shouts as loudly as he can. ‘Over here!’
They don't hear him and the hunters disappear into the distance.
‘That's great,' shakes Nicolas head gloomily. 'Now I've lost the group.'
‘Oh, I know what to do about that,' grins Henk. He grabs the head, which is lying there bloodless by the hair. He twists his arm a few times and there it goes again, flying through the air.
Harry, Ron, Fred and George are watching. They try not to. They cringe at the dumbfounded expression on the face of the head flying away.
Susie has obviously been waiting for this, with an enthusiastic bark she runs after it.
Nick forgot all his gloom at once, with a broad grin he become his transparent self again and laughed when the enormous ghost dog came back, with Nicholas' head in its mouth.
'Great! Good doggie,' he grins. 'Isn't our little Susie a sweet little polliwog?'
Harry, Ron, George and Fred nod but struggle not to burst out laughing as the head hangs between the jaws of the Borrie and protests at this treatment.
The boys didn't notice Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall leaning over a balustrade one floor above, watching in amusement.
Again they hear the hunters approaching.
‘Come on,’ says Fred. ‘We've got to go to bed, we've got the Christmas party tomorrow.’
The twins run off. Harry and Ron take a few steps backwards, but they want nothing more than to see the head flying through the air again.
The group of hunters arrive on their ferociously rearing horses. The front one, a headless rider, is waving his arms about. He’s surching, that’s clear, for his head.
Almost decapitated Nick knows that the Borries are clasping a head between their jaws. Susie fals down and munch on its head contentedly. Nicholas the third cries out desperately. ‘Down! Put me down, stupid animal. Let me go!’
The group of riders hold back their horses and the few who still have their heads stare in awe at the huge dog.
‘Almost decapitated nick! Sir Andrew of Hoget Towers shouts commandingly. Is that dog yours?’
Nick pretends to notice the riders only now and bows solemnly. ‘Good evening,' he says cheerfully, 'nice evening for a horse ride, isn't it?’
Sir Andrew ignores the greeting. 'Almost decapitated Nick. I order you to tell that dog to let go of our leader's head on the spot. Or...'
'Or what? Nick leans over the dog broad shoulders and pats her on the head.
The Borries snuggle up on the front legs and somewhere underneath there must be the head.
‘Andrew,' Nicholas calls out in a choked voice. 'Andrew chase this disgusting beast away on the spot. This is not dignified. How can a knight from high to Lely pound maintain dignity like this.' For a moment there is silence. ‘Help?’
Sir Andrew jumps to the ground. His armour gleams like morning mist in the lamplight.
‘Go, you beast,' he orders. ‘Let go of my comrade's head at once or I'll have you hanged!’
Susie does not even react, but licks nick's almost decapitated cheek.
It looks like nick is having the time of his life. Without haste he bends down and pulls the head of Sir Nicholas loose from the ghost dog. He swings his arm around a few times and throws the head as far away as he can. Susie jumps up and runs after it, barking enthusiastically.
So does the group of riders on horseback, while Sir Andrew and the headless rider are doomed to stand still.
Not only Harry and Ron fall into each other's arms and laugh it off.
Fred and George are standing in the middle of the stairs, grinning broadly.
Susie is already coming back, followed on his heels by the lead riders.
The ghost dog deposited the head at nick's feet, almost decapitated, and wagged his tail.
Nick hesitates, but with a sigh he hands the head to Sir Andrew. The knight hurries to the horseman who accepts the head but scrubs it clean with his sleeve before putting it on his shoulders.
Sir Andrew mounts and without a word to Henk, the riders ride off.
‘Harry, dear boy! Ron, brave hero!’ Nick runs up to them and puts his hands on their shoulders. ‘Thank you so much,’ he nods to them, grinning broadly. ‘You should know how happy I am. This is the best Christmas ever!’
Harry and Ron nod quickly, but step back anyway. For both of them, it's as if a huge lump of ice is resting on their shoulders.
‘You know?’ Nick pats Susie on her enormous head. ‘That the bloody baron is afraid of dogs?’ Almost decapitated nick, looks around, 'Where would the baron be,' he mutters. ‘Merry Christmas, dear boys,' he nods to them. ‘I wish you all a Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ Harry and Ron call out.
Nick floats with dignity, hands behind his back, into a wall. Susie darts around them wagging her tail before running after her master.
‘Wow Harry.’ Ron looks at him with wide eyes. ‘I can't believe we did it.
We raised a ghost dog and made a ghost happy.'
'Merry Christmas, Ron,' Harry nods to his friend. 'It always feels good to make someone happy, doesn't it?'
'Well, I'm only happy when I see my bed,' mumbles Ron. 'Merry Christmas to you too.'
The boys go into their bedroom. They can see there's a big pile of presents, but all that matters to them is a soft pillow and warm blanket.
The next morning there was a parcel on Filchs desk, when he opened it he looked surprised at the orange and yellow circles, but he tasted one and nodded with a happy smile.
Peeves looked on disappointed from around the corner.
Almost decapitated Nick floats, clear as day, again through the corridors.
Susie likes nothing better to do than to run straight through horde of pupils and scare them to death with it.
Everything looks back to normal.
Merry Christmas and prosperous New Year to all and everyone.