Late October

Perhaps because Halloween was approaching, the ghosts within Hogwarts Castle had become more active than usual lately. Semi-transparent figures could be seen drifting through the corridors from time to time.

Even Peeves was the same—though he wasn't a ghost, his pranks had become more frequent than before.

Adrian felt that Peeves definitely had something wrong with his head.

Despite being punished by him every time he pulled a prank, the creature seemed addicted to it, constantly finding new ways to harass him.

Like now—Adrian had just stepped out of his office when a bucket of mysterious green slime came crashing down from above.

He nimbly dodged to the side, and the slime splattered on the ground, emitting a strong, rotten odor.

"Missed! What a pity!" Peeves somersaulted in mid-air, shouting loudly: "Maybe I should switch to rotten eggs next time, ha-ha-ha!"

Adrian drew his wand with an expressionless face.

As the incantation fell, a whip flew out from Adrian's wand and hovered in the air.

The whip made sharp whistling sounds through the air, and Peeves shrieked as he tumbled through the air to avoid it.

After being toyed with by the whip for a while, Peeves fled in a puff of smoke.

Though he left quite decisively, Adrian knew that Peeves would come back to bother him again before long.

'This guy seemed... addicted?'

A few seconds after Peeves left, a ghostly figure descended from the ceiling.

This was a ghost with an arrow stuck through his forehead.

The ghost saw the green slime on the ground and showed a delighted expression: "I found my Halloween soup!"

"Halloween soup?" Adrian looked at the mysterious green slime on the ground, then turned to the ghost and asked: "You're not talking about this, are you?"

"Of course!" the ghost replied proudly: "This is my special recipe—a little rotten sheep's milk, a clump of spider webs... then left in a dark, damp place for a whole week!"

Adrian's brow immediately furrowed.

'This stuff... sounded quite flavorful indeed.'

Seeing this, the ghost couldn't help but laugh: "I know what you're thinking, because I was once a wizard like you, until I took an arrow to the head—this is quite normal for ghosts—well, though I'd love to explain in detail, I think I should leave now, Professor."

However, the ghost remained frozen in place.

"What's wrong?" Seeing the ghost hesitate to move, Adrian couldn't help but ask.

The ghost scratched his head awkwardly and said to Adrian: "Could you please help me put the soup back in the bucket and send it back to the basement? You know, ghosts can't touch any solid objects."

Adrian had no choice but to spend some time helping this arrow-headed ghost.

When Adrian brought the soup to the basement the ghost had mentioned, he was surprised to find a large gathering of ghosts already assembled there.

You must understand, normally, ghosts wouldn't gather together like this.

"Welcome, Professor Westeros. We're discussing the Halloween feast," Nearly Headless Nick floated over to explain. "That day happens to be my five-hundredth deathday party. All the ghosts of Hogwarts will attend! Ah, maybe the Bloody Baron won't... though that's just his personality... he's quite antisocial... but I'll handle him. Besides that, I've also invited many ghosts from other places."

Adrian looked around and found the basement packed with all sorts of ghosts.

There were many familiar figures too—the Fat Friar, Moaning Myrtle...

And Peeves, who had also mixed in among the crowd of ghosts.

"Well, I wish you success."

After speaking, Adrian headed toward the door.

Honestly, staying with so many ghosts was quite unsettling.

Though Adrian had grown accustomed to the presence of ghosts, having them occasionally pass through his body made him feel chilled all over.

"Wait!" Nearly Headless Nick floated in front of Adrian, saying somewhat proudly: "This is my five-hundredth deathday, sir. Would you like to attend my party? You know, such opportunities don't come often."

As soon as he finished speaking:

"No thanks, Nick." Adrian immediately replied.

He was a living, breathing person—he didn't want to attend some dead person's banquet.

"Won't you reconsider?" Nick seemed reluctant to give up.

"I must decline." Adrian said, heading toward the door.

As Adrian left the basement, he could still faintly hear the ghosts' discussions.

"I told you there was no chance, Nick. No living person would be willing..."

"Nonsense! I will invite living people. If other ghosts knew that living people appeared at my deathday party, they would definitely envy me..."

Though Adrian had never attended a ghost banquet, he knew it certainly wouldn't be a pleasant scene.

It seemed that in the original plot, Harry and his friends had accepted Nick's invitation and attended their banquet.

'Hmm... that experience probably wouldn't be very good.'

'Perhaps I should give Harry and the others a little warning, telling them not to accept Nearly Headless Nick's invitation.'

Adrian thought about this as he climbed the stairs leading away from the basement.

At the corner, he saw another familiar ghostly figure.

"Hello there, Grey Lady" Adrian greeted her.

Grey Lady stopped when she realized it was Adrian who had greeted her—well, she didn't have feet, so she couldn't exactly stop walking.

In any case, Grey Lady paused in front of Adrian.

"Good morning, Professor Westeros." She responded elegantly.

Though they had exchanged greetings, Adrian and Grey Lady didn't have much to talk about, so Adrian immediately prepared to leave.

However, Grey Lady's next words made Adrian stop in his tracks.

"Professor Westeros," she asked calmly: "Is my mother's... Rowena's diadem currently in your possession?"

Adrian looked at Grey Lady in surprise.

Seeing this, Grey Lady smiled kindly and said: "It seems you haven't read my mother's letter—that letter mentioned that whoever delivered it to me would be the one who possessed my mother's diadem."

"The diadem is indeed with me," Adrian nodded, admitting frankly: "It's in my storage room. Do you want to retrieve the diadem? I can return it at any time."

Grey Lady shook her head, a complex expression flashing through her silver eyes: "No, sir, that diadem is of no use to me. As you can see, I am now just a ghost."

There was a hint of sadness in her words.

"Alright," Adrian replied casually: "Perhaps someday I'll give it to a Ravenclaw, or return it to Hogwarts."

Hearing this, Grey Lady showed a surprised expression: "Wait! Have you never worn that diadem?"

"I certainly tried," Adrian shook his head, "but that thing isn't suitable for me. Wisdom is indeed intoxicating, but also addictive."

"You're definitely not a Ravenclaw." Grey Lady stated with certainty.

"I belong to Hufflepuff." Adrian said.

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