The final act was performed by the ghost of Gryffindor —Sir Nicholas de Minsie Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, also known as Nearly Headless Nick.
He pressed his hands against his head, stretching the skin that connected to his body.
"Ah—!" the girls screamed.
The Gryffindor students were already used to this, but Nick's next move was to throw his head off.
He rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and flew towards the Muggle village where Lavender and Parvati were.
"Help!!!"
After two distinct screams, Nick swung his head toward the pumpkin beside him.
Neville's eyes rolled upwards, and he fainted.
Amidst the screams, Nick shook his head repeatedly.
Crabbe and Goyle spat out their half-chewed food, Pansy quickly wiped Draco's soiled school uniform with a napkin.
Fred and George weren't scared at all; they even made a face.
Astoria hugged her sister Daphne tightly, Vincent and Hermione whispered words of comfort to her.
Cedric and Rolf weren't intimidated; they even scooped up a spoonful of pudding in perfect unison.
Nick, after spinning around countless times, finally managed to pull his head back.
He shook his head, feeling dizzy, and bowed deeply in gratitude with great excitement.
This is a carefully prepared program.
All the Gryffindor students knew that his greatest wish was to break the skin on his own neck.
Although it wasn't fully realized, it was at least half achieved.
The ghosts' performance ended, and the banquet continued.
Some people were already eating dessert, while others were still eating their main course, and some hadn't even taken a bite, only focusing on drinking sherry.
Professor Trelawney is a unique individual at Hogwarts.
She rarely appears in public and doesn't interact with people much except when she's in class.
Although she loves sherry, she can't really hold her liquor.
After two bottles, I was already quite drunk.
"Oh! My Third Eye has just foreseen a terrible future!"
Trelawney stumbled out of the pumpkin, raised the wine bottle high, and shook it a few times.
She seemed to be trying to attract attention, but unfortunately only the professors nearby looked over.
McGonagall pressed her lips tightly together and stepped forward to help her up. "Sybill, the second half has only just begun, and you're already drunk?"
"No, I'm not drunk!" Trelawney took a sip of sherry. "Minerva, do you know what I just saw?"
McGonagall's lips tightened. "Is it a disaster? Or is someone in danger?"
"Uh..." Trelawney paused for a moment, clearly realizing that Trelawney had hit the nail on the head.
"Here, I'll have Bobby prepare some hangover soup for you."
"I already told you I'm not drunk..."
McGonagall promptly took her away.
He's already talking nonsense; he's not far from going on a drunken rampage.
However, after taking only a few steps, Trelawney suddenly lowered her head, let go of the sherry she had just taken a sip of, and dropped it.
The amber-colored liquor spilled onto the marble floor, reflecting a pair of exceptionally dull eyes.
"Sybill?" McGonagall called softly.
Trelawney did not respond; instead, her body trembled slightly.
Dumbledore and Snape suddenly stood up.
Thirteen years ago, at Hog's Head Pub...
[A person with the power to conquer the Dark Lord has approached... Born into a family that has defeated the Dark Lord three times... Born at the end of the seventh month...]
Trelawney suddenly looked up, her blank eyes unfocused on anything.
"Sybill?" McGonagall called softly.
"He... the real Dark Lord..."
Trelawney's voice was so soft that only McGonagall could hear it.
Dumbledore and Snape had to hurry over.
They saw McGonagall's expression grow increasingly strange, until they could only make out the ending of the Prophecy.
"By overcoming this challenge... he will grow rapidly... and personally destroy the order that the Wizarding World has maintained for thousands of years..."
Trelawney tilted her head and fell into McGonagall's arms.
Dumbledore nodded to her with utmost seriousness.
Snape, his face grim, followed them out of the Great Hall.
The teachers and students were all very curious about what had happened, especially the other protagonist of the real Prophecy.
Vincent frowned, losing interest in the dessert in his hand.
"Dude, what's wrong?" George shook his shoulder.
"Um... I was thinking about what just happened."
"Old liar?" Fred shrugged dismissively. "Probably just drunk and talking nonsense again."
Vincent rubbed his temples. "If that's all there is to it, then Professor McGonagall could have just sent her back. Why did Professor Dumbledore and Snape have to come along?"
George curled his lip. "Dude, you know we often use fake Prophecy to fool us. Maybe we've dragged them into this too."
Dumbledore to care about his colleagues.
Snape is Potions Master, so his hangover potion would definitely be better than Madam Pomfrey's.
I was genuinely curious, but after thinking about it, I realized it didn't really matter.
Only Vincent still cares.
Like Dumbledore and Snape, they both knew the circumstances under which Trelawney would utter the true Prophecy.
They rushed by, then left with heavy hearts.
The protagonist of the Prophecy is important, but the content of the Prophecy is equally important.
Vincent smiled nonchalantly. "According to what you've said, she's really offended Professor Dumbledore and Snape quite a bit this time."
Fred and George grinned mischievously. "Maybe we'll never have to take that old conman's lessons again!"
Cedric instinctively moved away from them.
Trelawney may not have any real skills, but to say that is incredibly heartless.
While everyone was criticizing the twins, Hermione was secretly watching Vincent.
They had been alone together for almost a year, and no matter how well she pretended, she still noticed the bitterness in her smile.
What exactly does he care about?
Trelawney's Prophecy?
But he himself was unwilling to attend Divination, so why would he care about the old swindler's Prophecy?
Hermione kept her doubts to herself and joined the others in condemning the twins' cold-heartedness.
Just kidding~
"Is this something to joke about?"
They both wore pained expressions and weakly said they would definitely reflect on their actions.
George tightened his school robe. "Professor Dumbledore should have known about the old liar's background long ago, and if he wanted to expel him, he would have done so long ago."
Fred shivered involuntarily. "You've all given me the chills. Haven't you gentlemen and ladies finished your lecture?"
It would have been better if we hadn't mentioned it, but as soon as we did, everyone felt a chill run down their spines.
Vincent, however, didn't. "So everyone's in sync this way."
He shook his head a few times in cooperation.
Hermione rubbed her cold little hands. "No, it's Dementors."
Those two guarding the school gate?
They dared to choose this time; it seems they can't wait to "play" with the Suanni Patronus.