CHAPTER SEVEN
troduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your ser-
vice. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.”
“I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me
about you — you’re Nearly Headless Nick!”
“I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —” the
ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
“Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?”
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn’t
going at all the way he wanted.
“Like this,” he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His
whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was
on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not
done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their
faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck,
coughed, and said, “So — new Gryffindors! I hope you’re going to
help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have
never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six
years in a row! The Bloody Baron’s becoming almost unbear-
able — he’s the Slytherin ghost.”
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost
sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained
with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was
pleased to see, didn’t look too pleased with the seating arrangements.
“How did he get covered in blood?” asked Seamus with great in-
terest.
“I’ve never asked,” said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of
the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as be-
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