Harry's breath fogged the surface of the mirror.
He brought the mirror closer, and a strong sense of excitement swept through his body. But behind the mist, the pair of blinking eyes that looked at him were undoubtedly his own.
He wiped the mirror clean and read the name of Sirius word by word. Every syllable could be heard clearly in the room.
"Sirius Black!"
Nothing happened.
The dejected face that stared back at him was still his own.
Sirius didn't take the mirror with him when he went into the arch, so the mirror didn't work now, Harry thought.
Harry froze for a moment, then hurled the mirror into the box. It shattered.
Just in that one minute of hope, he was sure that he would see Sirius again and talk to him again.
His throat burned with disappointment; and as he rose to throw his things haphazardly into the box and cover them with the broken looking-glass, an idea came into his mind.
An idea better than a mirror, a better, more effective idea. Why hadn't he thought of it before?
Why hadn't he ever asked her?
He ran out of the dormitory, down the spiral stairs, and slammed into the wall.
He did not pay much attention to it. He quickly ran through the empty common room, through the portrait cave, and along the corridor, ignoring the fat lady who was yelling behind him. "The banquet is about to begin. You know, you'll add a lot of color to it."
But Harry had no intention of going to the party.
How could it be like this? When you didn't need them, there were ghosts everywhere. But now, you needed them.
He ran down the stairs and continued down the corridor, not running into any of the living or the dead.
They were all in the hall, it seemed. Outside the Magic Room, he stopped, out of breath, thinking glumly that he would have to wait until the party was over.
But just as he was about to give up, he saw — a translucent body drifting across the corridor.
"Hey — hey, Nick! Nick! "
The ghost poked its head out of the wall, revealing an exaggerated feathered hat and a dangerously wobbling head. It was Nick, who was almost headless.
"Good evening," he said.
He said, withdrawing the rest of his body from the solid stone wall, and smiling at Harry.
"So I'm not the only one who's late?" he sighed. "Though we're in very different moods. Of course —"
"Nick, there's something I want to ask you, okay?"
Nick, who was almost headless, had a strange expression stealing over his face.
He tucked a finger into his neck, and with some effort adjusted the stiff collar, evidently to give himself time to think. He stopped thinking when the head, partially severed at the neck, almost fell off.
"Er — now, Harry?" Nick asked, panicking. "Can't we wait until after the party?"
"No — Nick — help me," Harry said.
Harry said, "I really need to talk to you, here, okay?"
Harry opened the door to the nearest classroom, and Nick, who had almost lost his head, sighed.
"Oh, all right," he said.
He said meekly, "I can't pretend that I didn't think of it."
Harry opened the door to let him in, but he squeezed through the wall.
"What did you think?" Harry asked, closing the door.
"Thought you'd come to me," Nick said.
At this moment, he slid to the side of the window again and looked out at the pitch-black field. "Sometimes, there will be situations like this. When someone is in pain, because of the loss …"
"Yes," said Harry, not wanting to be misunderstood. "You're right. I — that's why I've come to you. "
Nick didn't say anything.
"The thing is —" Harry said, finding it more awkward than he had expected. "The thing is — you're dead, but you can stay here, can't you?"
Nick sighed, still staring out the window at the field.
"I'm right, aren't I?" he asked. Harry stared at him. "You're dead, but I can still talk to you... you can walk around Hogwarts and everywhere, can't you?"
"Yes," said Nick, almost headless. "I can walk around and talk. Yes."
"So you've come back from the other side, haven't you?"
Harry asked urgently, but when Nick still said nothing, he added impatiently, "What are you talking about?"
"People can come back, can't they?
They don't have to disappear completely when they come back as ghosts, do they? "
Nick, almost headless, hesitated. "Not everyone can come back as a ghost," he said.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked quickly.
"Only … only the Wizard."
"Oh," Harry breathed a sigh of relief and almost laughed out loud. "Good, that's good. The person I'm talking about is a wizard, so he can come back, right?"
"He won't."
"Who?"
"Sirius Black."
"But you're back!"
Harry said angrily. "You're back — you're dead, but you haven't disappeared —"
"The Wizard can leave their mark on the world, so that they can walk powerlessly where they've lived and been," Nick said bitterly.
Nick said bitterly, "But very few wizards would choose this path."
"Why?"
Harry asked. "Anyway — it doesn't matter — whether it's normal or not, Sirius won't mind. He'll come back. I know he will!"
Harry was so sure of his idea that he actually turned his head to look at the door. For a moment, he was sure that he was going to see Sirius, pearly white, transparent, but cheerfully coming through the door and walking towards him.
"He won't come back," Nick repeated.
Nick repeated, "He'll go on."
"What do you mean, go on?"
Harry asked quickly, "Where? Listen — what happened when you died? Where have you been? Why doesn't everyone come back? Why are there ghosts everywhere? Why … "
"I can't answer that."
"You're dead, aren't you?"
Harry was furious. "Who else can answer that question better than you?"
"I'm afraid of death," Nick said softly.
Nick said gently, "I chose to stay behind.
Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't. Well, the underworld doesn't accept me, and the world doesn't accept me. In fact, I don't belong here, and I don't belong there. "
He smiled bitterly. "I don't know the secret of death, Harry. I'm sure there are scholars in the Department of Mysteries who are studying that —"
"Don't mention that place to me!"
"I'm sorry I can't help you more," Nick said softly. "Then, please forgive me … the party, you know."
He walked away, leaving Harry staring blankly at the spot on the wall where he had disappeared.
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