Kneading his hands, nervously, Harry looked up at the headmaster from under his lashes. "Please, Sir," he whispered. "It would just be Grimmauld Place. It's ... after everything ... I just ... I can't be around to celebrate and make merry. I know that Halloween is a holiday, and people have every right to have fun, but ... seeing their smiling faces, hearing their laughter, it's like ... like slapping my parents in the face. They died on this very day, fifteen years ago, and I am supposed to be celebrating? After what happened at the graveyard ... please, I just can't ...!"