~ 153 Advanced Chapters Available now on my Patreon!
Nobody knew whether Snape was aware that Sirius was mimicking him, but one could infer as much from the way he furiously docked points from Harry afterward.
After all, Harry was the first to earn points, and he was Sirius's godson.
From any angle, Snape was bound to take out his resentment on Harry.
"He's rattled," Sirius remarked with a smirk.
But Harry, the one on the receiving end, wasn't exactly thrilled. After all, Snape's ire was directed squarely at him.
Time and again, when Snape spat venomous words at him, Harry was tempted to fling a Levicorpus followed by a Scourgify, just to see the old bat's mouth froth with pink soap bubbles.
But in the end, he held back.
It was a holiday, after all...
Yes, another Halloween had arrived.
The Great Hall was once again adorned with festive decorations. This year, there were no looming shadows—unlike the troll incident of Harry's first year or the Basilisk attacks in his second. This year's drama, Sirius Black's escape, had been resolved perfectly and swiftly.
Before anyone could even savor the thrill of tension, Sirius had been exonerated—and the Dementors surrounding Hogwarts had been reduced to ashes by Harry's flames.
Everyone was pleased with the outcome.
Hogwarts students were relieved that the danger had been dispelled so quickly, while the professors were glad Sirius had been cleared—though a certain unnamed Slytherin professor wasn't exactly thrilled.
The Ministry of Magic was even more delighted. Aurors didn't have to work overtime chasing Sirius, and Fudge had a political win to boast about. This was, as they say, a win-win-win-win.
Four wins, to be precise.
This year's Halloween theme was a departure from tradition. Dumbledore had decided to hold a Halloween costume ball at the school to celebrate the occasion.
The proposal was met with overwhelming support. A costume ball amid the high-pressure academic life at Hogwarts? It was just the thing.
"What kind of costume are you planning for tomorrow's Halloween feast?" Ron asked Harry in the Gryffindor dormitory.
Harry scratched his head. He'd been buried in research about Death, as well as ways to lift dark curses, and hadn't given costumes a thought.
"No clue. I don't have any good ideas yet," he replied.
"Why not ask Sirius? He's bound to have some brilliant suggestions," Ron offered.
Harry considered it for a moment but shook his head. "Nah, anyone else might be fine, but Sirius? Merlin, mate, do you want to end up on Snape's hit list too? I'd bet anything Sirius will dress up as Snape—or someone tied to him."
"Why not?" Ron countered, always quick with a quip.
"Or you could ask Hermione. I bet she's got some character she'd love to pair up with you for," Harry said, clapping Ron on the shoulder with a knowing grin.
"Good call," Ron said, standing up with a laugh. "I'll go ask her now…"
"Don't mention it to your brothers, though—I mean, the twin terrors," Harry warned.
"Got it," Ron said, flashing an OK sign.
He knew full well how much his brothers loved their pranks. If they slipped him something dodgy, he'd be the laughingstock of the school in no time.
Like that blasted Canary Cream.
In his mind, Ron conveniently glossed over the fact that it was Harry who'd handed him that biscuit. The key detail was that it came from his brothers.
Once Ron left, Harry returned to his book, only to be interrupted when Sebastian appeared before him.
"Hey, Harry," Sebastian said, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Seb?" Harry looked up, giving Sebastian a smile. "What's up?"
"Nothing much, just checking in on what you're up to," Sebastian said, sitting beside him. "I feel like I've forgotten a lot of things, but it's like those memories are just out of reach…"
"No need to doubt it; everyone gets like that," Harry said, setting his book down. "Sometimes I feel the same way. The more you try to remember something, the harder it is to recall. But if you let it go and stop thinking about it, it might come back later."
"Really?" Sebastian nodded hesitantly. "Alright, I'll try not thinking about it for now. It's been giving me a headache lately…"
"Headache?" Harry asked, intrigued. "Do ghosts even get headaches?"
"No idea. Maybe," Sebastian said with a shrug. "By the way, I heard you lot are planning to summon Death?"
"Yeah," Harry said, not hiding anything from his old friend. "It was my idea. Word from the New World is that Voldemort's aligned himself with Death, but Professor Trelawney's prophecy says he's actually sided with some Dark Lord. So I figured we should summon Death and ask directly."
"A very blunt approach, Harry," Sebastian said with a grin. "I've looked into Death myself. It's not as terrifying as the legends make it out to be."
"Maybe not," Harry said with a shrug. "If Death really needed soul energy that badly, you ghosts wouldn't still be lingering around, would you?"
"I see your point," Sebastian said. He paused, then asked, "So, how's your research on dark curses going?"
"No solid leads on breaking dark curses yet," Harry admitted. "You know the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed by Voldemort himself. If there was a way to break it, that curse would've been lifted ages ago."
Sebastian sighed. "Well, then we shouldn't rush to save Anne. Let's wait until we find a proper solution."
Sebastian lingered in the Gryffindor common room for a bit before drifting off.
Ghosts weren't bound by house rules and could wander wherever they pleased. They were, after all, part of the castle—some even served as staff, albeit without pay.
That evening at dinner, Harry got word that Hagrid's three-headed dog's fur had been found.
With all three materials now gathered, summoning Death was officially on the table.
In Nicolas Flamel's alchemy lab, the group sat staring at one another.
"I still don't think summoning Death on Halloween is a good idea," Cassandra said. "Legend has it Death appears at midnight on Halloween, raising the dead from their graves to dance for her. I'm not keen on summoning her only to have to perform a jig."
"But you're still alive, so you wouldn't have to dance," Veratia said breezily from the side. "If you insist on dancing, I suppose I could begrudgingly watch with Harry."
"If you're offering to be my dance partner," Cassandra shot back, never one to lose a verbal spar.
"I think Cassandra's got a point," Harry interjected, cutting off their bickering. "It is Halloween. Summoning Death might not be the best move. We're not in a rush."
"You're probably right," Dumbledore nodded. "We can afford to wait a couple of days. No one knows what special consequences might come from summoning Death on Halloween, and we certainly can't prepare the legendary sacrifices for her—though dark wizards might be willing to try."
"Sacrifices?" Harry gave Dumbledore a skeptical look.
"No need for me to elaborate, Harry," Dumbledore said, giving him a pointed glance that Harry understood immediately.
"But we'll still observe proper etiquette," Dumbledore continued. "Even if we won't offer Death traditional sacrifices, we'll prepare a lavish feast in their place."
"I'd suggest," Flamel raised a hand, addressing Dumbledore, "that personal tastes don't always align with others'. If you serve her your favorite… desserts, I'm half-convinced she'll whisk you away on the spot."
"Oh, then Hogwarts would be saved," Newt muttered under his breath.
As headmaster, figuring out how to host Death was Dumbledore's problem.
Meanwhile, Veratia dragged Harry away, claiming she wanted to discuss his Halloween costume.
"I think just showing up is enough. I don't need to dress as anything specific," Harry said honestly.
"How about…" Veratia leaned in, whispering temptingly, "we switch identities? I'll be a Gryffindor, you be a Slytherin. What do you say?"
"Me, in Slytherin?" Harry actually considered it for a moment before saying, "It's a fun idea, but I don't have any Slytherin robes."
"Oh, why bother with Slytherin robes?" Veratia said with a mischievous grin. "We could just swap clothes. I'll wear yours, you wear mine. If the sizes don't fit, we can use a bit of Transfiguration."
"Not a bad idea," Harry said, warming to the suggestion.
Veratia sized him up, then said with a hint of regret, "I actually had another idea, but… never mind."
That piqued Harry's curiosity. "What idea? Come on, tell me."
Veratia tilted her head, her eyes glinting playfully. "Not telling."
"Come on, don't tease," Harry pressed.
"You wouldn't agree to it anyway," she said with a sly smile, brushing his bangs aside.
"How do you know if you don't tell me?" Harry countered.
"Fine," Veratia said, clearing her throat. "I was thinking… what if you dressed up as a girl?"
"No way," Harry said, rolling his eyes and shutting it down firmly. "Anything but that."
"Hmph," Veratia huffed, though she was already scheming how to trick—er, convince—Harry into wearing a dress.
For once, Veratia didn't head off to the Muggle world. She stayed at Hogwarts, and it seemed she had no plans to attend Muggle classes for the next few days.
The next morning, Harry woke up yawning, only to find Ron had placed a bat on his bedside table.
"Trick or treat!" Ron roared like a lion, wearing a lion-shaped hood with a mane framing his face.
"I didn't prepare any sweets, but I think I've got some leftovers from Dumbledore," Harry said through another yawn. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two squashed candies.
"These count as treats, right?" Harry asked, not retracting the candies. "Or should I use Transfiguration to restore them?"
"No thanks," Ron said, waving them off. "Keep those treasures for yourself. Look at that—the filling's practically oozing out. Merlin, your backside's got some weight to it."
Harry glanced at the candies and set them on the nearby desk. "Doesn't affect the flavor, though. Maybe I should fix them up. Can't let them go to waste."
"You're not eating those, are you?" Ron, still in his lion getup, asked in disbelief.
"Maybe Draco would like them," Harry said with a cheeky grin.
At that, Ron leaned back dramatically, then looked up, picturing Draco's reaction to learning the candies had been flattened by Harry's rear.
An evil grin spread across Ron's face. "Do it!" he said gleefully.
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze