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Exams were the worst time of the school year to have to deal with strange circumstances in the castle. Being a place full of magic, Hogwarts was always full of surprises for even the most prepared student, but during exams... Well, let's just say people got frazzled.
Which is how Holly Munro ended up locked in the boy's dormitory with four sleeping dunderheads and none other than George Cubbins, trapped by a malignant, screaming ghost, the night before she took her final N.E.W.T. exam.
"George!" she hollered, her back pressed against the door as the ghost pounded on it with surprisingly substantial fists. She had cast a binding spell on it to prevent the ghost from entering, but she knew it was only a matter of time before it was in the room with them. "Anything yet?"
George, instead of helping her barricade the door, sat under his bed flipping through obscure books from the Restricted Section Holly had a feeling he hadn't checked out. "Give me a second," he said, rubbing his glasses anxiously.
The pounding continued. How on earth were George's roommates sleeping through this?
"I'm coming in!" the ghost shouted. "I'll touch you and burn you all up!"
Holly didn't know if the ghost could do any of that, but she didn't want to find out. She could feel her spell weakening. Soon the ghost would be able to break the barrier and simply float through the door.
"I don't know if I we have a second!" Holly exclaimed. "Oh, if only Lucy and Lockwood were here—"
"I found it!" George exclaimed. "Holly—Snufflifors! That's what will turn a teacup into a mouse!"
"What?!" Holly demanded, losing her cool and turning to face him in outrage. "How does that help?"
"I'm studying for my Transfiguration O.W.L.," he said mockingly.
"George Cubbins, if we get out of this, I will blast you into a million pieces and let Lockwood clean up the mess!" she threatened.
"I'm just messing with you." Now confident, George readjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "This ghost is mentioned in The Apparitions of Hogwarts School, it's said to only manifest to those who are snobbish and insist on being right all the time!"
"George Cubbins, this is not the time—" she began, and then the door blew open.
"Of course I'm right, I'm always right," Holly said, stirring her tea. It was breakfast in the Great Hall two mornings before; she and her closest friends were breaking inter-House rules by all eating at the Gryffindor table.
"I maintain that my spell should have worked," Lockwood said, "but perhaps I should have listened to you after all, Holly. You have taken the O.W.L.s before, unlike the rest of us..."
"That doesn't mean she knows everything," Lucy Carlyle said immediately, her eyes showing a wary jealousy that hadn't quite faded even after years of friendship.
"I'm just saying, more often than not, I am right," Holly pointed out, straightening her collar neatly. Lucy took notice of that, too, and self-consciously put a hand to her own collar. Holly stifled a sigh. "And especially in book work, honestly, Lockwood..."
"You know me, I like to trust my talent," Lockwood boasted. Holly stared at a messy flop of hair falling in his face, her fingers itching to tidy it for him, but she knew Lucy would take such an act the wrong way, for all she had made it clear she had zero romantic interest in him.
"Not all of us are naturally gifted," Holly pointed out. She herself, for all she was from an ancient pureblood family, was not the strongest witch and had to supplement her mediocre talents with rigorous bookwork. Lockwood, on the other hand, was wildly powerful, and therefore rarely bothered with studying.
"What did you do this time, Lockwood?" George Cubbins asked, looking up absentmindedly from a book.
"Weren't you paying attention?" Lucy said, raising an eyebrow. "He mixed up the charms for color changing and concealing."
"Really?" George snorted noisily. "Didn't Holly remind us all of that one? I got it right."
"If I don't get an O in Charms, then you can laugh," Lockwood admonished.
"I'm already laughing," Lucy said with a straight face. Their eyes met, and Lockwood allowed the tiniest of smiles to grace his lips.
"Alright, you guys," Holly interrupted. They had been awkwardly looking at each other for too long. Why wouldn't they just kiss already? They were both Gryffindors; surely they weren't lacking the courage.
"Last night, something weird happened," she continued. "I was in the Ravenclaw common room around one in the morning, studying for my Potions N.E.W.T. today, when I heard the strangest noise—like raspberries or a fart. I would have thought it was Peeves, but then someone laughed, and it sounded more childish than him."
"Odd," Lockwood said. "Maybe a spell gone wrong?"
"Or a prank," Lucy suggested.
"Or a ghost!" said a new voice.
Holly looked up and beamed at Jessica Lockwood, Anthony's older sister and her girlfriend of two years. "Hello, darling. Nice of you to drop in."
Jessica gave her a quick kiss, then sat down beside her. "Anthony, fix your hair," she scolded her brother.
Lockwood rolled his eyes, but he brushed the stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Lucy stared at him, then looked away with a blush as she saw Holly noticing.
"It probably was Peeves, Hol," Jessica said. "I wouldn't put it past him."
"It was the common room, though," Holly said with a frown. "I've never heard him in there before."
"I didn't hear anything, and I was there too," George said.
"You were?" Holly said. "I didn't notice you."
"I was in the green chair in the corner," George said. "Mostly covered by blankets. My nose was poking out, though."
Holly frowned. "I thought that that was someone's puke mess they'd forgotten to clean up."
George took no notice of her jibe. "I might have been asleep by one, though."
"Why don't you sleep in your dormitory?" Jessica asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
"The boys in there are insufferably unorganized," George complained. "Always leaving their trash out, never making their beds..."
"Cubbins, I've been in your dormitory before, and if anything, your bed is the worst," Holly said in disgust.
"Alright, so I was studying," George grumbled.
"Out of that book?" Lucy asked, lifting it so she could see its cover. "Muggle Inventions: The Weird, the Wonderful, and the Ones that Work. Doesn't seem like something that will help you with your O.W.L.s, George."
"Besides, you're a half-blood," Lockwood pointed out. "Don't you know all about Muggle inventions from your mum?"
"I like reading wizards' take on it," George said with a scowl. "And creating my own versions of things—you know, if we could learn how to mix muggle inventions and magic, we'd open up a whole new horizon in technology!"
"George, you'd get better marks if you really did study," Holly said in exasperation. "What kind of Ravenclaw are you?"
"Not the studying kind," George grumbled.
"Well, what do you all think of what I heard last night?" Holly asked again.
"It's probably just nothing, Holly," Lucy said.
Lockwood shrugged. "I think Luce is right. You were just tired, that's all."
"No, it was definitely something," she protested.
"Could be a ghost, if it's not Peeves," Jessica said.
"But you didn't see it, did you?" George asked. "That makes no sense—ghosts are imprints, they don't turn invisible. It would be breaking it's own rules—"
"Like you're breaking the rules?" said a cutting voice.
Holly groaned internally. George didn't confine his groan to himself.
"Quill Kipps," Lockwood said, forcing his pretty smile onto his face.
"Let's see...Two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff sitting at the Gryffindor table," Kipps said. His lackeys, Ned Shaw, Bobby Vernon, and Kat Godwin—all Slytherins, like him—folded their arms too. "As Head Boy, I ought to—"
"As Head Girl, I say we ought to not," Holly said, getting to her feet. "Leave us alone, Quill."
"I don't have to listen to you, Munro," Kipps said, snorting.
"We both know the rules," Holly countered. "I could snitch on you for some of the things I've caught you doing after hours, if I wanted, but I don't. Why bother with something little like this?"
"You're just the same as you were when I beat you in that dueling contest second year," Lockwood said, narrowing his eyes. "Running to Professor Barnes and complaining I cheated, when you were cheating more!"
Kipps huffed angrily. "At least I didn't spend the next two weeks shouting my own name every time I entered the room!"
"You didn't have anything to shout," George said. "You didn't win."
"And even if you had won, you still wouldn't have shouted your name all the time," Lucy snapped. "For a pureblood, your parents should have knonw better than to name you 'Quill'! I'm Muggleborn, and you don't see me with a stupid name like that!"
Kipps fluffed up like an irate, ginger pigeon. "How dare you!" he spluttered. "If you don't all leave right now, I'll call up Barnes again, and you—"
"Guys!" Jessica exclaimed, waving her hands around. "Calm down. This is not that big of a deal. We can move—"
"And give into him?" Lockwood said in disgust.
"At least don't make fun of his name, he didn't choose that," Jessica pointed out. "That's just rude."
Holly sighed affectionately, forgetting about Kipps for just a moment. "You are such a Hufflepuff, Jess."
"I'm Head Boy," Kipps protested weakly. Behind him, his three cronies shifted awkwardly, not coming to his defense. "You should leave."
"I'm Head Girl, and I say we stay," Holly said. "Come on, Quill. It's not as if this rule is that important."
No one disagreed but Kipps. He huffed a few more times, then turned around. "You won't get away with this next time, Munro!" he threatened, but Holly knew they would. His lackeys trailed behind him, scratching their heads.
"What an ass," Lucy complained.
"I can't believe he's still hurt over that duel from all those years ago," Lockwood chuckled. "You'd think there's more interesting things about me for him to complain about!"
"Why isn't he the one getting haunted by a ghost?" Holly complained. "I don't deserve it."
"So what about this ghost?" Jessica prompted.
"Well, we don't know it's a ghost," Holly admitted. "George has a point about it breaking its own rules, unless it's hiding somewhere."
"We don't know it's anything at all," George said. "I haven't heard anything, and I'm in the tower as often as you are."
"Well, just see if it shows up again," Lucy suggested.
"Sounds like a good plan," Lockwood said, flashing his pearly whites at her.
Lucy's eyes glazed over. While the two lovebirds stared at each other seemingly without realizing it, Holly rolled her eyes. Jessica smiled at her, squeezing her hand.
"I've got to study for my Astronomy O.W.L.," Lockwood said suddenly. Was it Holly's imagination, or did the suavest teen alive seem a little flustered?
"Me, too," Lucy said quickly.
"Wait," George said, frowning, "that's not till next—"
But they were already gone.
"—week," George finished pathetically.
"Those two need to get themselves figured out," Holly declared. "If they don't by the time I graduate..." She trailed off.
"A galleon that exams makes it happen," George said. "I know I'm under enough pressure, with that and my experiments, that I'd consider kissing either one of them to let off steam."
"Eugh," Jessica said, wrinkling her nose.
"I'll take that galleon and raise another that it happens on the last day," Holly countered. It would suit Lockwood's dramatic tendencies, and Lucy's insufferable attitude.
"Done," George said. They shook on it.
"What if they're already together and they're just fooling with you?" Jessica asked mischievously.
Both Holly and George burst into laughter.
"Lockwood? Being subtle?" George said.
"Do you know something we don't?" Holly asked. "You shouldn't keep secrets from your girlfriend, Jess!"
"For all Anthony's my brother, he's said naught," Jessica promised. "But you know, we've teased them enough they might want to get back at us."
"That'd be a Lucy scheme, then," George quipped.
"Well, we'll all see," Jessica said.
Holly took her Potions N.E.W.T. that day, feeling fairly confident she passed with flying colors. She liked Potions; it was something she knew she could succeed at as long as she paid attention and tried her hardest. It required no fancy spellwork, just interest and dedication, and she had both.
It had been a long few weeks of studying, but it was all about to pay off. As soon as she got her scores back that summer, she could apply for a job at the Ministry of Magic—preferably secretary work to begin with, but she had high hopes for her future.
Tired, Holly returned to the Ravenclaw common room to study for the second to last exam of her Hogwarts career: Defense Against the Dark Arts. This was not Holly's strong suit, but she had all day and night to prepare, as long that mysterious not-ghost didn't come back to bother her.
The common room was uncharacteristically quiet, but that was to be expected during exams season. Frazzled first years dozed off in front of the fire; exhausted seventh years like herself flipped through page after page of ancient magical tomes, not taking in a word.
Only George Cubbins seemed unaffected by the tension. George, though he always received passable marks, was never one to try hard in class. Instead he attended to what he called "the higher mysteries", by creating strange inventions mixing Muggle and wizarding technology. His friends, Ravenclaws and not, thought he was ridiculous, but he insisted that this would be a breakthrough—if he could ever get it right.
That night, he was crouched on the floor over some contraption made up of an enchanted fork, something called a "walkie-talkie", and what looked to be an unwashed sock. Muttering, he waved his wand over it, his ungainly backside wiggling back and forth as he concentrated.
As the night wore on, more and more students dropped off in the chairs of the common room or else trudged upstairs to their dormitories. But Holly stayed downstairs, dutifully taking notes and muttering spells under her breath.
At last it was only she, George, and two fast-asleep fourth years left in the common room. Holly rubbed her eyes blearily, checking the clock: it was nearly one in the morning, around the time the apparition had bothered her last night.
She ought to get to bed, not let it bother her again—but George was here, and definitely not asleep this time. If it came again, at least she'd have his word to back her up...
Pfffffft!
Holly sat straight up, her book tumbling off her lap and onto the ground. George scowled at her, complaining, "Hol! You startled me—"
"Shush!" she hissed, waiting for the noise to come again.
Pffftt...
Now George was paying attention. Frowning, he muttered, "Lumos!" under his breath and held his illuminated wand up to the ceiling.
For the briefest of seconds, Holly saw a transparent figure hovering above her, making faces and dangling a spectral knife over her head. She screamed, and then it was gone.
The knife dropped onto the table in front of her. Holly screamed again and jumped backward, more frightened than she wanted to admit. Her mind was a muddle of spells, but for all she was studying Defense Against the Dark Arts she couldn't remember a single one to protect against malicious ghosts.
"Hm," George said thoughtfully. "I guess you might have a point with this whole ghost thing, after all."
Lucy and Lockwood didn't even show up to breakfast the next morning. Holly, her eyes dull and unfocused, stirred her tea unenthusiastically as George recounted to Jessica the events of the previous night.
"A knife?" Jessica exclaimed. "Oh, Hol! I didn't even know Hogwarts had ghosts like that!"
"It's quite common for ghosts to be malicious," George admitted, "but you're right, Jessica. Hogwarts ghosts are renowned for their good behavior, save the Bloody Baron, but even he doesn't try to kill any students."
"We've got to figure out what's going on," Jessica said. "Holly? Any suggestions?"
"Huh?" Holly looked up with a start; she had spaced out. "What?"
"Any ideas about how to deal with this ghost of ours?" George prompted.
"I don't know...tell the Headmistress?" she suggested.
"Marissa Fittes? Let's be real—is anyone sure she's still even alive?" Jessica said, glancing around. "She's been headmistress all seven years I've been here, and I've never actually seen her. Penelope is always doing her job for her."
"Well, let's check the library, then," Holly said. "There's bound to be some book on the castle ghosts there."
"You know, ghosts can just walk through walls and most barriers," George mused, "but I wonder if they could get through one of my contraptions. If I could mix magic and Muggle stuff in a way that would trip them up—"
"Why would one of your contraptions be more effective than magic?" Holly groaned. "It's almost as if you don't want to deal with this, George."
George stuck his tongue out at her and got up. "You're no help."
"You're no help!" Holly shot back, but he was already sauntering away—well, as much as someone like him could saunter.
"Let's check out the library before our exams, Hol," Jessica said. She took Holly's hand and kissed her quickly. "Come on. You're safe right now."
Holly and Jessica spent most of the day in the library, to no avail. When at last they had to leave for their exams, Holly did not feel like they'd made any progress at all. The librarians were no help, and George, despite his skills as a researcher, was still stubbornly working at his ghost-trapping contraptions.
She was far too exhausted that night to spend any more time thinking about the issue. If the ghost showed up again and killed her, then so be it; at least then she wouldn't have to take her last exam. It's not as if her History of Magic grade would actually matter in her professional life.
Uncharacteristically, Holly fell asleep in the common room before eight o clock. She was only woken several hours later when she heard George's gleeful cackle.
She sat up straight, one hand instinctively going to smooth her hair while the other clutched her wand. "Is it the ghost?" she blurted out.
George grinned, holding up his latest invention. "Nope, but look at this!"
"It's...a jar," she said, even more severely disappointed than usual.
"An enchanted jar," he corrected. He waved his wand and the jar lit up a sickly green. "It will draw the ghost in and trap it with this spell!"
"That is entirely useless." Holly rubbed her eyes blearily. "I'll just go to bed now, I think. We're the only ones still up."
"Didn't find anything useful in the library, I take it?" George said sarcastically.
Holly didn't dignify him with a response. She picked up her books and slowly began to trudge up to the stairs.
"I was in there earlier, studying for my Transfiguration O.W.L.," he continued. "You and Jess didn't find anything at all, I bet."
"You were doing just as much studying as we were finding, then," she said flatly. "You couldn't turn a teacup into a mouse."
Pfft. For a moment, Holly thought the ghost was back, but when she glanced around, it was George who was making a face at her.
"I checked out The Apparitions of Hogwarts School by Penny Malrymple," George grumbled at last. "That might help you."
Holly turned around, scowling at him. "And you didn't think to mention this—"
Pfffft!
Suddenly, she time it was the ghost: it hovered above George, knife in hand, poised to throw. Upon catching Holly's eye, it winked, then lifted a finger to its smiling lips.
"George!" she cried, throwing her book at the ghost on the ceiling.
George hollered and dived out of the way as the ghost's knife missed him by inches. "Up! Up!" he cried out, his face even paler than usual as he pushed passed her in the stairwell. "Come on, Hol!"
Holly raced up the stairs after him into the fifth-year boys' dormitory. The ghost screamed as it floated up the stairs behind them, but Holly slammed the door on it, casting a quick binding spell on it to prevent it from entering.
All four of George's roommates were blissfully asleep, dozing through the racket. How on earth were they not awake from this noise?
"George! Look in that book!" she cried, racking her brains for anything that could possibly save them. Why was she so useless at Defense Against the Dark Arts?
"I'm looking, I'm looking!" he cried, diving underneath his bed. He grabbed a book and began to frantically flip through the pages. "Bloody Baron...Nearly-Headless Nick...the Grey Lady...these are all so basic! Moaning Myrtle..."
"Nice little spell, witch!" the ghost hissed in a voice far more high-pitched than Holly expected. "But you can't keep me out for long! My touch is death!"
"Is that even possible?" George wondered, looking up briefly.
"If you were better at magic, maybe you'd know!" Holly snapped.
Another raspberry; Holly assumed this one was from George. "See if I help you next time your life's in danger," he grumbled.
"This isn't my fault!" Holly complained.
"I should tell Lucy all about this," George muttered, fidgeting with his glasses. "She'd get a kick out of picturing you in your pajamas, hair frazzled and crazy. She's always complaining about how perfect you are!"
"Only because she doesn't see me in my nightgown," Holly snapped. "Have you figured anything out about this ghost?"
"Booo!" screamed the ghost, pounding away with insubstantial fists. "I'm almost through!"
"George!" she cried. "Anything yet?"
"Give me a second," he said.
Pound, pound, pound, went the ghost at the door. "I'm coming in," it hollered. "I'll touch you and burn you all up!"
Holly renewed her spell on the door, but not before she saw a transparent hand swipe through it for a brief second. The ghost behind her swore loudly, then went back to pounding.
"I don't know if I we have a second!" Holly said anxiously. "Oh, if only Lucy and Lockwood were here—"
"I found it!" George exclaimed, and Holly was suddenly full of a wild hope that they might actually get out of this. "Holly—Snufflifors! That's what will turn a teacup into a mouse!"
"What?!" Holly forgot about the ghost for a moment and swirled around, her eyes blazing angrily. "How does that help?"
"I'm studying for my Transfiguration O.W.L.," he said mockingly. Of course he would throw that back in her face at a time like this!
"George Cubbins, if we get out of this, I will blast you into a million pieces and let Lockwood clean up the mess!" she threatened.
"I'm just messing with you." George smirked. "This ghost is mentioned in The Apparitions of Hogwarts School—"
Thank God, Holly thought. Something useful from him, for once!
"—it's said to only manifest to those who are snobbish and insist on being right all the time!"
"George Cubbins, this is not the time—"
And then the door blew open.
Holly fell backward, and the ghost careened through the opening holding its knife over her neck. She screamed; the boy in the bunk closest to her only gave a snore.
"P-petrificus totalus!" she sobbed, but only a faint shower of sparks fell from her wand. As if that spell would be effective on a ghost, anyway!
"Time to die," the ghost said sardonically, lowering the knife, and Holly closed her eyes, waiting for the worst.
"Hey, ghost!" George cried. "Check this out!"
And then the ghostly chill over her neck was gone. Startled, Holly scrambled backwards to see George's enchanted jar rolling on the ground, the ghost trapped inside.
"George!" she exclaimed. "It worked!"
"Not for long," he admitted. "I didn't finish the binding spell—"
"Oh, let me," she said, and waved her wand. With a quick incantation, the spell was finished and the ghost trapped for good.
"No!" cried the ghost. It sent out flashes of light from the jar, but each one grew fainter and fainter until all Holly could see was a contorted face of rage pressed up against the glass.
Breathing hard, Holly fell backwards onto the ground. A second later, she felt George flop down on the floor beside her, panting just as hard as she was.
"We don't say a word of this to Lockwood and Lucy," she whispered.
"Agreed," George mumbled.
George did some more digging that night in that book of his, and discovered that this ghost had been haunting the Ravenclaw Tower for over a century, only ever showing up during exams. Evidently, it was a student who had died during exams and enjoyed heckling the living students as they suffered, though it probably could not actually have killed anyone.
"You're a tricky little beast, aren't you?" George said, turning the jar in his hand and staring at it with an unwholesome interest. "Getting into our minds like that?"
"It's easy," sulked the ghost. "People get frazzled during exams, see all kinds of crazy things. I scare them out of their wits, but they'd never tell anyone. What Hogwarts ghost carries a knife?"
"You just sound like you're bored," Holly said, rubbing her eyes. It was now well past three in the morning, but George wouldn't let her go to bed until they'd thoroughly grilled the ghost for information.
"You have no idea," the ghost groaned. "If I could just get out of this tower...I'd have so much more to do!"
"You can't even leave the tower?" George asked, surprised.
"Don't know why," the ghost complained. "Really limits my haunting opportunities. Maybe you could let me free and I'd stick to a new location."
"Would you like to see the Gryffindor tower?" Holly asked, the wheels in her head turning.
"It's been a century since I have," the ghost said, sounding interested.
Holly exchanged a smirk with George. "Good. I think we have some friends who need a bit of scaring."
They kept the ghost in the jar for that night and most of the rest day; Holly did still need to study, and George—well, George kept doing what George did.
With their last exams over, George and Holly snuck the jar up to the Gryffindor tower. Technically speaking, this was breaking the rules too, but Kipps would never find out.
"You know, I think we should let it loose on Kipps in the Slytherin common room," George said. "Lucy and Lockwood haven't really done anything."
"They didn't believe me when I told them about the ghost," Holly pointed out.
"Well, neither did I," George pointed out.
"But you helped me stop it."
"I did most of the stopping," he pointed out.
Holly rolled her eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We both helped."
"Fine, fine." George scratched his head, staring at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Any chance you remember the password, Hol?"
"Only Gryffindor students allowed in," the Fat Lady said.
"I'm Head Girl," Holly said primly. "And I know the password. Snufflifors."
George groaned. "Really?" But Holly was right, and the door swung open.
They snuck upstairs to Lockwood's dormitory. No one was around, but Holly heard something coming from his closet, so she decided not to stick around long.
"Hide it here," she hissed, pointing to Lockwood's pillow. "Jess will think this is hilarious!"
The noise from the closet got louder. It sounded almost like...no, Holly put that out of her mind. What would Lucy be doing in there, anyway?
George stuffed the jar in the pillow and winked to the ghost. "Give them hell from us," he whispered to it.
At just that moment, the closet door flung open, and out fell Lucy and Lockwood, tangled up with each other. Holly stared at them in shock, her mind spinning.
"Oh," Lockwood said in a small voice as he looked up at them. "It's you."
Lucy blushed furiously. George burst into loud, caterwauling laughter.
"What?" Holly said blankly. "Were you two...kissing...in the closet?"
"Maybe?" Lucy mumbled.
"For how long?" George asked.
"Well, we were only in the closet since you came in!" Lockwood said, helping Lucy to her feet.
Holly could scarcely believe her eyes. "But...but..."
"I guess you owe me, Holly," George said smugly. "Exams did get them together!"
"Oh no, we've been..." Lucy blushed even more. "Well, since Christmas."
"Jessica knew!" Holly said, the mysteries of her friends' relationship suddenly revealed. "She swore you hadn't told her, but she lied!"
"We didn't tell her anything," Lockwood admitted. "She walked in on us kissing before Easter break. So she didn't lie, not technically."
"What are you doing with Lockwood's pillow, anyway?" Lucy asked suspiciously.
"Um. Nothing," George said, hiding it behind his back.
"Remember that ghost we were talking about?" Holly prompted.
"The nonexistent one?" Lockwood said, raising an eyebrow.
"Just as nonexistent as your relationship," George grumbled. "Maybe we'll tell you about it later. But for now—" He tossed the pillow, still with the ghost-jar inside it, back on Lockwood's bed, then sauntered out of the room. "I'll leave you two be!"
Holly shook her head as she followed after him. "I'm telling Jessica everything," she said.
George snorted. "Hopefully not about the part where the ghost called you a—"
Holly grinned. "You don't know what I say to Jess when you're not around, Cubbins."
"I don't want to, anymore," he said.
They parted ways when they left the common room, and Holly breathed deeply. With exams over, the ghost conquered, and Lucy and Lockwood together, she could finally rest. She smiled. That sounded nice, for once.