The festive atmosphere of Halloween arrived much earlier than anyone expected.
After all, their holidays weren't particularly abundant, and Halloween was the first major celebration since the school term started.
With the legends of past Halloween feasts and the increasingly close bonds among students this year, the anticipation for the celebration had reached a peak.
Moreover, in a time devoid of smartphones, students were more than willing to spend their time with friends at a party.
"Will there be a dance this year?"
"Are you planning to wear your skeleton costume and dance again?"
"She was wearing a ghoul costume too!"
Luke overheard the conversation between two senior students and struggled to decide what expression to wear.
Ghoul costumes, skeleton outfits...
Wizards sure had their own way of having fun.
"Tch—"
A disdainful scoff reached Luke's ears. Turning around, it was, of course, Malfoy. Evidently, he had overheard the conversation and seemed thoroughly unimpressed.
A party like that? Without expensive robes, elegant music, or graceful dances, how could it even qualify as a proper ball?
"What's the progress?"
Luke didn't give him the chance to continue mocking. For all his flaws, Malfoy's high opinion of himself was his most persistent trait. Thanks to Luke's influence, he'd gotten better at not flaunting it so openly, but changing someone's nature was no small task.
Still, they were making progress. As long as nothing went awry, it was just a matter of time before Malfoy transformed from an aloof companion into someone truly dependable.
Seeing Luke's serious expression, Malfoy sobered up, setting aside his usual antics.
He replied with equal seriousness, "It's all sorted. Most of the noble families' kids have some level of protection, and their defensive capabilities are decent. Don't worry, I was discreet. Just as you instructed, I only approached the younger years to avoid drawing attention."
Luke nodded. He had no doubts about Malfoy's ability to handle such tasks. While Malfoy had his shortcomings, minor errands like these were well within his capabilities.
"How many agreed?"
"Four. All are fairly representative—Ernie Macmillan, for example."
"Good. Well done, Draco. I knew you could pull it off!"
Malfoy couldn't help but beam at the praise. He was no stranger to compliments, even ones that exaggerated his abilities to absurd levels to flatter his father. But Luke's praise was different—it felt genuine. Luke really believed in him, thought he was capable.
"When the crucial moment comes, I'll step forward first. Then Ernie and the others will follow. Initially, I thought we should include some representatives from Gryffindor too, but..."
Malfoy's expression turned from a smirk to one of resignation.
It wasn't a joke—his initial disdain for Gryffindor had stemmed from ingrained hostility and deep-seated prejudice. That contempt had colored his every interaction with them.
But as Luke pushed him to get to know them better, much of that hostility had faded. These days, he could even hold a conversation with Harry.
Some animosity naturally stems from a lack of communication. If it were the kind of deep-seated grudge that couldn't be resolved, even Luke wouldn't attempt to force a change.
"There aren't many people who have something similar. Of course, the Weasley brothers should have been among them, but none of them do... And the ones who do don't fit the conditions you mentioned."
Luke chuckled and patted Malfoy on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."
Seeing Luke's reassuring smile, Malfoy set aside his concerns and nodded earnestly.
"Oh, right. On my way here, I ran into Taylor. She asked me to call you over"
Malfoy said suddenly, as though just remembering.
Luke gave him a knowing look and asked, "So, you don't think Taylor is weird anymore?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I didn't know her well back then, okay? Anyone unfamiliar with Taylor would think she's odd."
It wasn't entirely untrue. Taylor was naturally reclusive. Apart from occasionally chatting with Hermione and Luke, she rarely spoke to anyone, except to contribute during Potions class.
Her long bangs covered almost half her face, giving her an air of hesitation and gloom. She moved so quietly that she resembled a ghost.
No—ghosts were louder than her.
"By the way, Luke..." Malfoy's expression shifted to one of anticipation. "Could you ask Professor McGonagall about the plans for this year's Halloween party?"
His face was full of excitement. Everyone knew that Professor McGonagall was in charge of this year's Halloween festivities.
It wasn't a secret. Every year, the Halloween party was handled by a different professor, and the professors often tried to outdo each other in creativity.
"Maybe they'll invite a famous wizarding band?"
Luke could only speculate. The books hadn't described the Halloween celebrations in much detail. Perhaps the students would have fun after the feast? But as far as he remembered, the feast always ended abruptly, leaving no room for further revelry.
What he didn't tell Malfoy was that, no matter how lively the festivities were supposed to be, there likely wouldn't be much to celebrate this year.
Because something bigger was bound to happen.
"Alright, I'm off to find Taylor. Don't forget that the first class today is Charms. Don't be late."
With that, Luke turned and left the common room.
Malfoy watched Luke's retreating figure, frowning slightly but saying nothing as he returned to grab his books.
---
The sun shone brightly, illuminating the entire forest. At its center, the ancient castle seemed anything but eerie.
"Blood on our lips, bodies scarred, embracing sinful souls in the darkness…"
A mature female voice sang the somber lyrics with a childlike melody.
"Flap, flap!"
The sound of wings echoed from the window, followed by a series of "tap, tap, tap" against the glass.
A black raven pecked lightly at the open window, as though politely knocking to announce its arrival.
"Come in."
The speaker's voice was languid and sultry, a tone that left an indelible impression after just one hearing.
The raven hesitated no longer and flew into the room, landing on a perch near the desk.
It lifted its gaze to the woman seated nearby—a striking figure with long crimson hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and a beauty mark near the corner of one eye.
Another raven, identical to the first, sat perched on the same stand.
The two ravens exchanged a glance but kept to themselves, staying out of each other's way.
Moments later, the woman's quill paused and was set aside. She picked up a piece of parchment from the desk, reviewed it carefully, and nodded before rolling it into a scroll and slipping it into the cylinder at her feet.
The raven nodded in return, hopped down from the perch, and walked to the open space by the window. With a few flaps of its wings, it soared out of the window, heading into the distance.
"Hmm~"
The woman stretched languidly, her elegant curves on full display. Her lips curved in a charming, graceful smile. Unfortunately, aside from the departing raven, no one else had the chance to witness this scene.
But her moment of relaxation was fleeting. She soon returned to work, reaching into the raven's cylinder to retrieve a small piece of paper.
As she unfolded and read it, her brows furrowed instantly.
Her radiant, beautiful face was now etched with seriousness, her eyes filled with surprise and suspicion. She read the message over and over again.
"An attack on Hogwarts? What kind of lunatic is behind this? Death Eater remnants? Or the last of the Saints?"
She murmured to herself, her voice tinged with confusion.
As she pondered the implications of this information and the potential problems it might lead to, an abrupt knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in."
Her voice turned instantly icy.
The door opened to reveal a tall, muscular wizard with scars on his face. He dragged in a goblin who was frantically struggling.
"My Lady! My Lady! I didn't betray you! I was only gathering more information!"
The goblin began pleading the moment he saw the woman.
She turned to face him, her expression calm and indifferent.
"My Lady, you must believe me! I've discovered one of the Saints' gathering places! We can—"
The goblin's words were cut short as his eyes fell on the slender wand in her hand. Its tip glimmered with a green spark.
"For the greater good!"
He shouted, his eyes filled with fanaticism and worship.
A flash of green light followed, and his body fell to the floor, lifeless.
The woman paid it no mind. She simply returned to her seat, picked up her quill, and began writing on a fresh piece of parchment.
The tall wizard lifted the corpse from the ground, bowed respectfully to the woman, and left the room with steady steps, gently closing the door behind him.
Moments later, the woman finished writing and reread her orders.
"Investigate who is planning to attack Hogwarts. Assess the damage to Hogwarts. Investigate…"
"Luke Gaunt"
She smiled and nodded to herself, rolling the parchment into a scroll and placing it into the cylinder.
The raven hopped down from its perch, glanced at the woman in the open space, then flew off.
The woman watched it go, a faint smile on her lips. Then she retrieved yet another sheet of parchment from her desk. This time, her quill moved with a different flourish, her handwriting elegant and brimming with allure, perfectly matching her appearance.
When the brief letter was done, she paused, contemplating its contents. After a moment of thought, she finally rang a bell on the side of her desk with two soft chimes.
An owl flew in through the window. The woman sealed the letter into an envelope, closed it carefully, and handed it to the owl.
The owl promptly left through the window.
She rose and walked to the bookshelf, her slender, snow-white fingertips gliding across the spines of the books. Finally, she stopped at one.
"The Origin of Purebloods: The Essence of Magic and the Mystery of the Four Founders"
Taking the book in hand, she moved to the hanging chair in her room. Picking up the cup of coffee on the nearby table, she noticed it had grown cold. With a gentle tap of her finger, steam began to rise from the cup again.
She glanced at the table of contents, flipped to a specific page, and stopped.
"The Rise and Fall of the Gaunt Family"
---
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Luke executed the spell with ease, though his expression showed no sign of satisfaction.
"Excellent, Mr. Gaunt! Your spellwork is impeccable—five points to Slytherin!"
Professor Flitwick beamed with joy, delighted to see someone accomplish the task so quickly.
Hermione couldn't let this go unnoticed.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Her feather floated into the air, and she immediately raised her hand. "Professor! I've done it too!"
Professor Flitwick turned toward her voice, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Wonderful, Miss Granger! You've managed it as well! Simply brilliant—five points to Gryffindor!"
Hermione flashed Luke a playful smile from across the room.
Luke responded with a thumbs-up, making her smile even brighter.
With these two as examples, Professor Flitwick's expectations for the rest of the class rose significantly.
But just as his hopes lifted, a sudden loud "BANG!" erupted in the classroom.
All heads turned toward the source of the explosion. Unsurprisingly, it came from the corner where Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom were seated.
"Mr. Finnigan, please be more careful"
Professor Flitwick sighed in relief, seeing that neither student was injured. Even so, he quelled the ambitious expectations he'd briefly entertained.
'Geniuses,' he thought to himself, 'are rare indeed.'
Still, he approached the pair to ensure no further mishaps occurred. While Seamus had already caused a scene, Neville was just as capable of stirring up trouble.
Luke watched the scene with a hint of exasperation.
If Malfoy had shown significant improvement under his influence, Neville remained largely unchanged. His courage still hid deep within, like a turtle retreating into its shell, unwilling to emerge unless pushed to the extreme.
Sitting next to Luke was Harry, who, unlike some others, wasn't particularly amused by Neville and Seamus's antics. Instead, his attention lingered on Luke's effortlessly floating feather, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and awe.
To Harry, it was no mystery that Hermione achieved such results—she was constantly seen studying in the library or practicing in the common room.
But Luke? Luke was far from a diligent student; if anything, he was laid-back, bordering on lazy.
'Is it just… talent?' Harry wondered.
"It's about intent, Harry"
Luke said, as if reading his thoughts.
Luke smiled and explained, "Don't think of spells as tools. Treat them as extensions of yourself—like instincts. When you see a cup on the table, don't think about walking over to pick it up. Think about making it come to you on its own. That's how you'll grow more comfortable with spells."
Harry nodded, half-understanding but still intrigued. Luke paused, seemingly struck by a thought, though he couldn't quite grasp it.
"Right, what was it you wanted to talk about?"
Luke asked, looking at Harry curiously.
*****
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