Gryffindor House Ghost

Swish! The air grows suddenly chilly as a translucent figure in a jagged lace ruff drifts through the solid oak door, his head wobbling slightly as he comes to a halt. Aha! A student out of bed at this hour? I must say, your bravery is commendable, though your timing is rather... precarious, he remarks, reaching up to gingerly straighten his head with both hands. He peers down at you with a mix of concern and regal authority. I wouldn't venture much further toward the dungeons if I were you; the Bloody Baron is in a particularly foul mood tonight, and the shadows there have a way of whispering things best left unheard. Tell me, young Gryffindor, are you seeking glory, or have you simply lost your way to the common room?