Standing at the entrance of the classroom,
Listening to the chattering discussions of the young wizards walking out, Ian felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He had clearly missed a lot of the exciting scenes in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
Even when the young wizards greeted him, he found it hard to force a smile. This was obviously all the fault of the old bat who liked to lurk dramatically in his office.
"At least he promised to bring something back to the orphanage for me at Christmas..." Ian could only comfort himself this way. He didn't find anything worth taking in the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, probably because of the previous Dementor incident, Gilderoy Lockhart hadn't even left a stray cloak behind.
"Michael, I heard you got flung into the wall. William, did you take any photos of the scene?" During dinner, Ian saw Michael with his head wrapped in bandages.
And in response to his question, William raised his hands, showing the fractures on both of them, it turned out that the "little professor's roommate" who got knocked into the wall wasn't just one person.
"That Lockhart professor is too evil! He actually made Michael and me confront the Boggart, and that thing really wanted to scare us to death!"
"I think that professor should be locked up in Azkaban!" William complained to Ian with lingering fear, his expression filled with resentment towards Gilderoy Lockhart.
"It hit me right in the forehead, and it really hurt!" Michael was also deeply shaken.
Compared to Little Black, who kept devouring chicken legs despite his concussion, William kept complaining non-stop, almost cursing Gilderoy Lockhart's entire family in every possible way.
He clearly didn't know who he was cursing.
Sitting beside them and listening silently, Ian glanced at Gilderoy Lockhart at the professors' table, he only hoped that his roommate, who aspired to become a new student acolyte, would never discover Lockhart's true identity. Of course, more importantly, William's fanatical family should never find out about today's events.
Otherwise, if William's family, out of familial affection, didn't personally send him on a long journey, Ian felt he might have to prepare a bed for William at the Wool's Orphanage.
"Say less, say less..." Ian stuffed a big turkey leg into William's mouth. Although Thanksgiving wasn't celebrated at Hogwarts, turkey was a common dish, and today was the eve of Halloween, so the feast was more lavish than usual.
Even the Great Hall had been decorated. A thousand bats flapped their wings on the walls and ceiling, and another thousand dark clouds clustered in the Great Hall.
Many enormous pumpkins had been carved into lanterns, glowing warmly. These pumpkins were so large that they could even be turned into small boats, much bigger than when Ian had seen them at Hagrid's place.
The atmosphere was perfectly set.
There were even a few animated human skeletons, each holding different musical instruments, wandering around the hall, performing a macabre symphony for the young wizards.
It was truly a Halloween vibe, bassist, drummer, guitarist, accordion player, pianist, all of them were skeletons of varying heights, cackling eerily.
When they reached the Ravenclaw table, Ian curiously touched one... it was actually a bewitched skeleton, though it was unclear from which era.
"Hey, don't touch my head!" William was tapped on the head by one of the skeletons, and his mouth, which even a turkey leg couldn't shut, finally stopped complaining about the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. All the students felt both amused and a bit unnerved, but there were quite a few who dared to touch them like Ian.
Perhaps thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart's unpredictable lessons, the wizards from all grades had become much bolder. These friendly skeletons were far more amiable than the horrors faced in class.
Ian still found it unbelievable that Grindelwald was at Hogwarts. On his way to the feast, he had overheard a pair of sixth-year couples discussing the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. They mentioned that Gilderoy Grindelwald had even hinted in their lesson that wizards who desired powerful magic could visit his office after class.
What powerful magic?
The Cruciatus Curse?
The Killing Curse?
Or perhaps something worse?
Maybe Hogwarts students wouldn't have to worry about seeking out Nurmengard for their dark arts ambitions, because it seemed like someone had already brought a piece of Nurmengard to Hogwarts!
"Will Voldemort really have to face a group of students who enjoy casting the Killing Curse next year?" Ian felt an unsettling chill. Something about the learning environment was undoubtedly shifting, and not for the better.
---
'[Gringotts Invaded by Unknown! Goblins Deny Any Losses!]'
Beyond the festive frights of Halloween, the breaking news buzzing through the Great Hall captured everyone's attention.
Owls, even those humorously dressed as bats, swooped in, scattering copies of the 'Daily Prophet'. Wizards of all years gasped and chattered with disbelief. This was likely the most shocking Gringotts incident in recent memory.
Even the professors exchanged looks of astonishment.
"Who? Who would dare to do such a thing!" Gilderoy Grindelwald's reaction was particularly theatrical. His dramatic expression suggested he would never dream of such audacity, though Ian had his doubts.
"Lucky I don't keep any gold at Gringotts," Ian muttered to himself, unconcerned. He even suspected the goblins might have staged the whole thing as a twisted ploy.
---
"Finally, I've found you!"
After the feast, Ian watched as Gilderoy Grindelwald whisked Aurora away. Without wasting a second, Ian pulled out the Marauder's Map. There it was, the name he had been searching for. Dumbledore, absent for what seemed like forever, had returned to Hogwarts. Yet, strangely, he had missed the Halloween feast.
This was unusual. Highly unusual.
"Could it be that he's getting senile and wants to pass the headmaster position to Aurora's grandfather? Grindelwald's practically been treating the office like his personal bedchamber lately."
The absurd thought made Ian grimace, but curiosity pushed him forward. He was half tempted to storm the headmaster's office and demand answers, but just as he left the Great Hall, he found himself face-to-face with a brooding Snape.
---
"Did you destroy what I told you to destroy?" Snape's voice was low and firm, his black eyes boring into Ian's.
"I'm always obedient. It's no longer in the library," Ian answered with a disarming blink. The last thing he wanted was to give Snape a reason to berate him.
"Destroyed… good," Snape murmured, though his response lacked satisfaction. Relief flickered in his expression, mingled with something else, perhaps even regret.
Ian observed him closely. Was it possible that Snape was not entirely pleased with the destruction of the potion recipe? There was something unsettling about his demeanor. But without another word, Snape swished his robes and disappeared down the corridor.
"Get some rest! You look like you're about to join the Inferi!" Ian called after him, only half joking.
When Snape gave no reply, Ian took it as his cue to resume his mission. He reached into his robes to ensure Ariana's letter was still safely tucked away. With a determined step, he dashed up toward the top floor, hoping Dumbledore wouldn't vanish again.
---
Outside the headmaster's office, the towering stone gargoyle stood watch as usual. Its twisted, grotesque features were illuminated by the dim torchlight. The statue appeared almost amused at Ian's arrival.
"Password!" it barked.
"Jelly Slugs."
Nothing.
"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum."
Still nothing.
Ian scowled. The headmaster had clearly changed the password, again. Perhaps this time, Dumbledore had chosen something even more eccentric. Ian braced himself, considering his next guess.
"Sherbet Lemon."
He continued to guess.
Still no response.
"Roach Roulade!"
Ian thought for a moment and tried another potential password, the gargoyle twitched, but instead of moving aside, it merely shook its head in denial.
"Open up!"
Ian was running out of guesses for Dumbledore's favorite treats. Frustrated, he kicked the stone guardian, though he certainly didn't expect what happened next.
The gargoyle leaped aside with a grumbling scrape, revealing the wall behind it. It was like an old cat finally deciding to budge after hours of stubborn lounging.
"Whoa!"
Ian staggered forward, startled by the sudden success of his futile kick.
"You're rather amusing," the gargoyle rasped, a trace of amusement in its gravelly voice.
Ian shot it a wary glance before dashing up the winding staircase to the headmaster's office. The polished oak door at the top stood slightly ajar, the warm glow of candlelight spilling into the corridor.
It hadn't closed itself. Instead, it lingered open, as though inviting someone in.
"Is he expecting me?"
Ian hesitated, then peered through the narrow crack.
Inside, Albus Dumbledore sat behind his cluttered desk, the silver strands of his beard reflecting the golden glow from a row of enchanted candles. His blue eyes, half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, were fixed on a gleaming object in his hands.
The old headmaster's focus was unwavering. Ian narrowed his eyes, straining to see more clearly.
The object Dumbledore held shimmered like molten gold, intricate carvings swirling along its polished surface.
It was a cup, a goblet with an ornate golden handle.
The sight sent a prickle of curiosity through Ian. But before he could step inside, he lingered for just a moment longer, watching the flickering candlelight dance across the headmaster's worn features.
(End of Chapter)
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