The Sugar Quill
Author: Fawkes101  Story: The Day I Died...  Chapter: Chapter 1: Nearly Headless Nick
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The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

The Burrow

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K Rowling. I am just having fun writing. If any names seem familiar outside of Harry Potterís characters, itís not intentional. I would also like to thank the writer of Elizabeth I for the second part of the story.


Hogwarts, 1992

Nearly Headless Nick walked, or rather, glided down the corridor nearing the Great Hall where the Halloween celebration was about to take place. The students would gather in the Great Hall as they had done for the past five hundred years. They would eat and talk until they were full. Nick grinned at the different Halloween memories, especially the time young Snapeís hair had turned neon pink. His smile faded as his mind drifted back to October 31st, the day he had died five hundred years ago. His mind drifted to Halloween, 1492.


London Tower, 1492

The room was freezing and restrictive. The only light that ever entered came through a barred window. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy- Porpington gazed at the stone wall, recalling his crime and how he had ended up in the dingy cell. It had all started three nights before.

They had been at a party thrown by Duke Bard, the kingís brother. They had all danced, reveled and gotten drunk on ale. Stumbling out into the hallway, after the party had dissipated, they had gotten into a fight. They had started off by arguing about a woman, a Duchess, an unmarried, beautiful duchess.

The argument had swelled so much, to the point where Sir Patrick de Delany- Podmore drew his sword and challenged Duke Bard to a duel. Sir Patrick had eventually skewered the Duke enough to cause some bleeding on the Dukeís right arm. But the Duke had recovered and the duel continued. Duke Bard, who had the better sword and sharper skills, deftly sliced off Sir Patrickís head. To avenge his friendís death, Sir Nicholas had decided to finish the duel for him, the Dukeís way, like a Muggle.

He had picked up the fallen sword. "Itís not over yet, Duke Bard," Sir Nicholas recalled saying. The Duke had stopped, laughed, and agreed to continue. The fighting had gone on for some time. The clashing of swords could have been heard all across the palace. Clash! Swish! Clank! The duel continued on until the two duelers were at the West End of the palace. There, Sir Nicholas had the Duke pinned into a corner, Sir Nicholasís sword at the Dukeís nose.

"Laughing now are you, Duke Bard?" Sir Nicholas panted, completely out of wind.

"You wonít be so triumphant in a moment," the Duke retailed, though he himself had not seemed so sure of that statement.

"Oh? Well then, weíll just see about that, wonít we?" Sir Nicholas cracked an evil grin. He whipped the sword sideways, so the blade touched the Dukeís neck. The Duke pulled his breath in sharply and gulped.

"Cry mercy, my friend and your life shall be spared."

"Never, I say! Never!" the Duke cried in agony.

"That leaves me no choice." Before the Duke could say anything more, he was dead. His head had been cut off. Sir Nicholas gasped, catching his breath.

Back in the cell, the memory stayed strong in his head. The next day, the body had been found and Sir Nicholas had been arrested on murder charges. Now the footsteps approached and Sir Nicholas stood up, knowing what was about to happen. The guard came and said, "Itís time." Sir Nicholas got up and left the cell, hands behind his back. He was led into the execution room. The block awaited him.

"Come here." The executionerís voice was deep. Sir Nicholas walked towards him, head held high. He placed his head on the block, ready for his fate. The executioner swung the ax down on Sir Nicholasís head. Sir Nicholas cringed as he felt the horrific pain. Nothing happened. Sir Nicholas was still alive.

Whatís going on here? Sir Nicholas thought. Why arenít I dead? The ax came again. He still wasnít dead! It happened a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth. The executioner got so frustrated after the tenth time, that he just kept blindly swinging the ax. After the forty-fifth time, Sir Nicholas finally died, though his head was still attachedóbarely.


Hogwarts, 1992

His mind drifted back to reality. Nearly Headless Nick shook his head a little, to recover from the stirring memory. He remembered how his soul had just floated up into air and become him again, as a ghost. Now here he was at Hogwarts, five hundred years later. His deathday party would begin in ten minutes and he needed to get down to the dungeon to see if everything was ready. The guests were arriving soon and he had the honor of having living people- Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger specifically, attend. His mind on the party, Nearly Headless Nick glided straight to the dungeons as fast as he could. He certainly did not want to be late for his own party.

A/N: I hoped you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. Please review it. Comment, questions, criticisms, and compliments all welcomed. Thanks!

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