It was already cold, but this was a different kind of cold, an otherworldly feel sent from the ether. Natty somehow kept composure, but his heart did give an unpleasant lurch of fright as he spotted, suddenly close, a ghost. The spirit was of a fell man in his prime, and he spoke directly to Natty with the mildly curious air of someone who'd found a four-leafed clover on a walk.

For a moment Natty could only look at him, alarmed. He'd never spoken to a ghost before, and the only ones he'd ever seen had been the House ghosts at Hogwarts. And he could barely remember them, as he'd only been there for his First Year, and that had been well over twenty-five years ago.

"Did you say... ordeals?" Natty said unexpectedly, recalling the word the ghost had inexplicably spoken before the living man laid eyes on him. The ghost wasn't planning to be an ordeal here, was he...?