Hogwarts in the evening is special.
No, it is always special, but only in the evening—when the sunset glows faintly crimson beyond the hills, barely outshining the stars; when countless bowls of fire or smokeless torches light up in the corridors; when shadows dance their mad jigs on the stone walls, and the living portraits acquire a certain surreal charm; and when you walk, for instance, along the galleries of the inner courtyard—it is this elusive moment that is one of the most magical in Hogwarts. It's a pity that it's hard to catch, and in the hustle of days, one might simply not pay attention to such things.
Unfortunately, I didn't catch the crimson sky this time—too late. But flashes of dragon fire in the now-unconcealed camp of dragonologists in the Forbidden Forest did a good job instead—also not an everyday impression, especially if you know what kind of animals are there.
As befits a well-bred gentleman, I escorted Miss Delacour and the two remaining girls from her entourage to the Beauxbatons carriage. None of the guests had decided to take up Dumbledore's offer and settle in the guest rooms, of which, as became known from conversations, we have plenty. Now we were walking through the castle's inner courtyard, past the benches standing around the huge oak tree, and had almost reached the exit from the castle—all that remained was to cross a small distance to Hagrid's hut, where the carriage was "parked."
"You learn quickly, Monsieur Granger," Delacour stated with an important and independent air.
Two girls from her entourage whispered something vulgar about this phrase from the champion, combining it with my age. Fleur understood this, I understood this, but we both pretended that nothing of the sort had been said.
"Glad to hear it. By the way, I'm gathering information about Halloween," we left the benches and the tree behind, moving along the stone part of the courtyard, almost reaching the gates. "But there's almost no information. I wanted to ask you about how the wizards of France view this day?"
"All Hallows' Eve, I believe?"
"And if we go by old Celtic traditions, then Samhain."
"Do you want a historical reference, or facts?.."
I began to notice that I was paying less and less attention to the characteristic pronunciation of the letter "R," typical for native French speakers. I think a little more, and I will be able to associate it with a normal "R" without any problems, without wasting brain resources on realization.
"...I must say," Miss Delacour continued her thought, "that I know little of the historical aspects."
"Then let's stick to the facts."
We passed through the gates and headed down the slowly withering grass toward winter down the almost gentle slope, moving toward the visible Beauxbatons carriage. Interestingly, in honor of their appearance, our professors bothered to place magical lamps on both sides of the route from the castle gates to the carriage. Interesting lamps, but at the same time, quite familiar—in the shape of city lampposts. Surely the motive was that now the guests have to return after dark, and not everyone wants to cast Lumos. Or maybe some other reason—how should I know.
"The facts are simple," notes of a mentor cut through Delacour's voice. "Long, long ago, before the Statute, when wizards believed in various versions of Mother Magic and so on..."
Oh, the brain stopped focusing on the characteristic "R" sound. Good news, otherwise it grates on the ears.
"...it was believed that on Samhain our world becomes closer to the world of magic, spirits, ancestors, and so on."
"And now?"
"Now, Monsieur Granger," a light and inoffensive smirk appeared on Delacour's face. "It is considered a relic of the past and a tradition carrying no meaning. But some wizards adhere to this tradition for the sake of the tradition itself, which is correct."
"Traditions are correct?" I looked with a smile at Delacour walking beside me.
"Yes. It is our history. How we came to what we have now. Even if there isn't much sense in them."
"I think that's the right approach. But what exactly was done on Samhain?"
"Different things in different countries. In short, in European countries, wizards burned offerings in magical fire, counting on blessing and purification. It even works in a way, but now we know that this is the result of one's own magic, a clear sequence of actions, and faith in the result."
"And about the convergence... with the 'Higher Spheres'?"
We had already approached the carriage, so it was time to wrap up the conversation, and the weather was becoming windy and autumnally cool, although my amulets warm, perhaps, everyone at Hogwarts. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore has one too. Hmm... There is a crazy thought...
"If research is to be believed, there is something, but what? Unclear. But certainly not what was believed in ancient times."
"Informative. Well then, Miss Delacour," I smiled at the Veela, and turned to her entourage. "Ladies. It was a pleasure talking. What time would you not mind continuing my dance training?"
"Friday will be a good day," Delacour smiled friendly. "Good evening, Monsieur Granger."
The ladies nodded and they all quickly fluttered into the carriage door that opened before them, and I only had to return to the castle. Making myself invisible and inaudible, like a silent shadow I darted to Hogwarts—a beautiful night provokes the appearance of poetic style in thoughts. And an evening dancing with a Veela—such things don't pass without a trace. As an acquaintance of mine would say—the Power of Youth burns in me! True, it doesn't burn in me, but rather, modestly waves its hand, like: "Hi, I'm here. feel free to call anytime."
I got into the house common room almost right before curfew, but usually the guys and I allow ourselves another hour to sit and do our own things, be it just talking, or doing homework in unexpectedly large volumes. This time was no exception, but as soon as I appeared in the common room, and most importantly, was noticed by the others, my sensitive hearing immediately caught rather benevolent conversations and whispers:
"Oh, that's Granger..."
"...he invited Delacour."
"...they danced like tha-a-at today..."
Ignoring such things, I walked to our table with the guys and sat in an armchair.
"Are there so many conversations about me?"
"What did you think?" Ernie was surprised, and the others decided to join the conversation. "After all, you invited the champion to the ball, all that. She also agreed."
"I see. Guys, what happens to the world on Samhain?"
"Does something happen?" Justin looked with misunderstanding, and then shifted his gaze to the others. "Really?"
"No one will answer reliably," Hannah covered the magazine. "They say we become closer to the world of the dead or something similar. And celebrated a kind of change of the year."
. . .
"Do you know what and how can be conducted on this day? Well, something traditional."
"I'm not bragging," Hannah straightened up. "But before you, for a second, are two representatives of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
"I know," I nodded with a smile, while the others, besides the "second" Ernie, seemed not to have thought about it.
"And who is the second?" Justin quickly looked around everyone, but his gaze stopped on Ernie, who simply raised his hand. "You didn't say."
"We don't brag about it," Ernie shrugged indifferently. "Parents say that ancestors simply did what they thought was right."
"But if you guys are interested," Hannah addressed everyone. "We can show how it was celebrated in ancient times. The offerings themselves. It's too late to fast, and it's dreary, and the fact that the ritual is just a tribute to tradition is a proven fact."
"And what about purification and blessing?" I asked the question of interest.
"It works," Hannah nodded importantly. "Only the same effect is achieved by visiting a Healer or even independently. Without fasting, without unnecessary gestures, without bonfires and offerings."
"Of course it's interesting," Justin nodded and looked at me. "Right, for you too?"
"Yes. It would be great, Hannah," I smiled at the girl. "And what are you busy with now?"
"Just goofing off," Justin answered for everyone. "Already did homework, and don't want to sleep."
"And I haven't done it," pulling supplies out of my backpack, I prepared to scribble an essay, summarizing topics I had long since read.
"Then I'll help," Hannah nodded, putting the magazine aside. "The issue is boring, like Binns' lecture."
"Tell me about it," Susan sighed disappointedly and turned to Zacharias. "Let's continue enchanting new chess pieces?"
"Oh, finally! I just prepared a couple. Here," the boy pulled several blanks for living chess pieces out of his school bag.
In general, even after curfew, our common room is a rather lively place, and this is pleasant, no matter how you look at it. But I should also attend to useful matters, yes.
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