“Usual rules. Five-card draw, loser is the Sorting Hat's voice at next year's banquet. The Bloody Baron has lost for 11 years, will it be 12?” the Fat Friar grinned, dealing the cards.
    “The winner?” Nick asked.
    “The bet this year was Peeves would leave the winner's house alone... mostly,” the Grey Lady answered, discarding two cards.
    “Discards over?” the Friar received agreement. “Lay 'em out!”
    “Looks like the Ravenclaws will have uninterrupted study time this year,” grinned the Grey Lady, laying out a straight flush, king-high.
    Nick confidently lay a hand of four eights on the table and turned to the Baron.
    “I can finally stop being that wretched hat!” exclaimed the chained ghost, laying down a full house – queens and sevens.
    “I'm sorry Baron,” the Friar lay out his own full house – of kings and nines.
    The Bloody Baron snatched the old hat from its spot above the table and floated off, grumbling.