Harry couldn't quite remember how he had made his way back to the dormitory. All he could recall was Ron and Hermione having a brief spat afterward.
He sat by the dormitory window, hugging his knees, staring blankly at the scene outside.
Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a soft glow and stretching Harry's shadow long across the floor.
"Harry?" Ron's concerned voice broke the silence. Ever since they had returned, Harry had been distant, responding with little more than distracted hums. His unusual behavior was beginning to worry Ron deeply.
Snapping out of his daze, Harry turned to Ron and offered a faint, apologetic smile.
"Fancy a game of Wizard's Chess, mate?" Ron asked, holding up the chessboard. "I know you're upset, but Hermione didn't mean anything by it. She's just curious about that guy with the same name as yours. That's why she's been reading all those books. She didn't mean to bring up You-Know-Who. It's not like she could've known what would be in the next chapter..."
"I know, Ron." Harry nodded, though his thoughts remained tangled.
"How about we visit Hagrid after class tomorrow?" Ron suggested, hoping to lift his friend's spirits.
"Maybe in a few days," Harry replied. "Tomorrow's Halloween Eve, and there's a banquet in the Great Hall."
"Right! I heard they'll have those limited-edition pumpkin pies," Ron said, brightening. "If you like them, you can have my share."
Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. It was in this very dormitory that Gareth had once comforted him during a bout of homesickness. And now, after all these years, hearing Gareth's name again only to learn he was gone forever felt like reopening an old wound.
Time might pass like the blink of an eye for Harry, but for his friends, it was an entire lifetime.
"Thanks, Ron," Harry said with a forced smile. "It's getting late. We should get some sleep. Charms class first thing tomorrow."
"Alright," Ron agreed, though the crease in his brow betrayed his lingering concern.
The next morning, the Gryffindor first-years were abuzz with chatter as they gathered for breakfast.
This year, Halloween fell on a Friday, which brought some good news: their usual double Potions class with Professor Snape was canceled.
For Gryffindors, no Snape on a Friday was practically a reason to celebrate.
The downside, however, was that their afternoon Flying class had also been canceled due to the holiday. For many, it was one of the rare opportunities to practice flying on a broomstick.
During breakfast, Professor Flitwick made an exciting announcement. "After weeks of practice, today we'll be learning to make objects fly!"
"Remember, it's a swish and flick!" he squeaked, standing atop his familiar stack of books. "And enunciate clearly! Don't forget poor Baruffio, who mispronounced a simple spell and ended up with a buffalo on his chest!"
Harry always suspected the wand movements were more about focus than necessity. With wandless magic, hand gestures weren't needed at all—what you envisioned was what you cast.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry flicked his wand with practiced ease, effortlessly levitating the desk in front of him.
"Wonderful, Mr. Potter! Simply marvelous!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, hopping excitedly.
In his excitement, however, the tiny professor lost his balance and began toppling backward.
"Leviosa!" Harry reacted instinctively, casting a precise Levitation Charm to catch him.
Though similar to Wingardium Leviosa, the spell was subtly different: it made objects float but didn't allow directional control.
Floating midair, Professor Flitwick paddled his arms comically as though swimming. Beaming at Harry, he declared, "Ten points to Gryffindor! Superb work, Harry! You must've been reading ahead in your textbook."
"Yes, Professor," Harry replied as he gently set the professor back on solid ground.
By the end of the lesson, only Hermione had managed to levitate her feather successfully—aside from Ron, who achieved partial success.
With Hermione's guidance, Ron managed to lift his feather briefly, but Seamus caused a distraction when his feather unexpectedly exploded, sending Ron's feather crashing back onto the desk.
"Maybe you should focus on Exploding Charms, Seamus," Hermione suggested matter-of-factly as they walked to lunch.
"Are you mocking me, Granger?" Seamus retorted, bristling.
"Whoa, easy there," Ron interjected quickly, giving Seamus a friendly pat on the arm.
"Sorry, Seamus," Hermione said hastily. "I didn't mean it like that."
Satisfied with her apology, Seamus let the matter drop.
That evening, the Great Hall was transformed for the much-anticipated Halloween feast. Bewitched bats flitted through the air, casting fleeting shadows as they swept over the tables, and massive carved pumpkins flickered with candlelight.
"Where's Harry?" Ron asked suddenly, noticing his absence.
"He said he was going to the restroom," Seamus replied.
A pang of concern struck Ron. Was Harry still upset? Should he go check on him?
I'll just eat this drumstick first, then go find him, Ron decided, eyeing the spread of food before him.
Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Professor Quirrell stumbled in, his turban askew and his face a mask of terror.
"Troll! Troll in the dungeon!" he shouted, staggering toward Dumbledore. "Thought you ought to know..." With that, he collapsed to the floor.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, chaos erupted as students began screaming.
Dumbledore raised his wand, amplifying his voice. "Silence!"
The command cut through the pandemonium like a blade.
"Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately," he ordered, his tone calm but firm.
Percy wasted no time. "Follow me, Gryffindors! There's no need to panic. The professors will handle the troll."
Hermione started to follow Percy but stopped when Ron tugged at her sleeve.
"Ron? What's wrong?" she asked.
"It's Harry!" Ron whispered urgently. "He's still in the first-floor restroom! We've got to warn him—he's in danger!"
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