Halloween Banquet

The evening had arrived, and the Great Hall was already decked out in a dazzling array of Halloween decorations. Enormous jack-o'-lanterns floated beneath the ceiling, while a thousand bats fluttered noisily against the walls and ceiling.

Another thousand bats, like low-hanging storm clouds, swooped and swirled above the tables, making the candle flames inside the pumpkins flicker and dance.

The feast hadn't started yet, but students from all four houses had nearly filled every seat, and the professors were arriving one after another.

Dumbledore had even changed into an outfit fitting the Halloween theme—he wore a pumpkin-colored robe, his hat adorned with little bat patterns, and he chatted cheerfully with Professor McGonagall beside him.

Down below, Harry and Ron were idly chatting.

They hadn't seen Hermione all afternoon; she hadn't even shown up for their last class.

"I think she must have heard what you said about her behind her back," Harry muttered quietly.

This was already the second time he'd said that today.

Just that morning, near the end of class, Gryffindor had had a Charms lesson.

Professor Flitwick had demonstrated the spell that could make objects fly—the Levitation Charm.

To be honest, it was a fascinating piece of magic, especially after they'd watched Professor Flitwick send Neville's toad flying all over the classroom. They'd been itching to try it out themselves ever since.

During the lesson, Professor Flitwick had split them into pairs for practice.

Harry was paired with a classmate named Seamus Finnigan, while Ron was paired with Hermione.

The former could be set aside for now, but the latter was clearly a terrible combination.

Ron didn't have the habit of previewing before class, and his talent for charms wasn't great either, so practicing the Levitation Charm was bound to cause some problems.

As a top student, Hermione couldn't help but speak up whenever she saw her partner making mistakes.

That itself wasn't an issue—after all, that was exactly why Professor Flitwick advocated for pair practice.

But the problem was that Ron didn't like being lectured, and due to his family background, he had a bit of an inferiority complex.

On top of that, Hermione's manner was too forceful and overly critical.

With that, the friction that had been simmering between them finally exploded along this fuse.

In the heat of the moment, Ron had complained to Harry that Hermione was an absolute nightmare, no wonder no one could stand her.

Unfortunately, Hermione, who had been about to leave the classroom, overheard every single word...

"So what?" Ron said, though a hint of unease crept into his voice. After scanning the area and not seeing Hermione, he added, "She must have noticed by now—in Gryffindor, she doesn't have a single friend."

Hearing this, Harry didn't know what else to say. He could only hope Hermione would feel better and come back when the Halloween feast started.

But things didn't go as hoped. Up until one minute before the feast began, Hermione still hadn't returned to the Gryffindor table.

Not only that, but not far away, Patil was chatting with her friend Lavender, mentioning that Hermione had run crying to the girls' bathroom downstairs in the afternoon and wouldn't let anyone comfort her...

Hearing this, Ron felt even more uncomfortable.

But that discomfort only lasted a minute. Once the grand feast began, he quickly put it out of his mind and enjoyed the delicious food on the golden plates.

Harry, however, glanced toward the Slytherin table, trying to spot a certain figure.

If there was anyone in Hogwarts who could comfort Hermione, aside from the professors, it would probably be him.

Unfortunately, Glenn wasn't at the Slytherin table—because the Slytherins themselves seemed to be looking for him.

Despite his worry, Harry couldn't bring himself to leave in the cheerful atmosphere of the Halloween feast.

"After all, we're still in Hogwarts. How bad could it get..." Thinking this, he sighed and asked the golden plate for a baked potato with the skin on.

That should have been the case, but fate sometimes likes to play a little joke to scare wizards who aren't prepared.

For example, five minutes after Harry got his potato.

Just as the potato was still steaming, Professor Quirrell suddenly burst into the hall. His large turban was askew on his head, and his face was full of terror.

The strong smell of garlic, combined with his frantic figure, created a dual assault on the senses. Everyone turned to look at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Ignoring everyone around him, he strode straight to Professor Dumbledore's chair, leaned against the table, and panted, "Troll... in the dungeons... thought you ought to know."

With that, he collapsed face-first onto the floor and passed out.

The hall erupted into chaos. Professor Dumbledore had to make his wand emit several sharp, explosive bangs before everyone quieted down.

"Prefects," he said in a low voice, "lead your house students to the dormitories immediately!"

"Follow me! Don't get separated, first-years! As long as you do as I say, you have nothing to fear from a troll! Alright, stay close behind me. Make way, first-years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!" Percy, the prefect, shouted at the Gryffindor students.

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, trolls are all stupid as rocks," Ron said. "Maybe Peeves let it in, to add some fun to Halloween."

On the way, they ran into groups of people rushing in different directions. As they squeezed through a crowd of confused Hufflepuff students, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

Patil had said earlier—Hermione was downstairs!

After telling Ron his thoughts, Ron bit his lip, not particularly eager to go find her.

But in the end, they decided to sneak away from the group and head downstairs.

But as mentioned before, fate sometimes likes to play jokes.

Just as Harry and Ron were about to go downstairs, they turned a corner and ran straight into Hermione.

Though the corners of her eyes were still slightly red, she already looked much better.

Seeing this, Ron, though still annoyed with her, let out a sigh of relief.

"Alright, let's get going." After Harry told Hermione about the troll, Ron turned to leave.

Unexpectedly, Hermione's expression suddenly turned panicked, and she even forgot about her earlier quarrel with Ron.

"Glenn!" she said frantically. "Glenn is still in the classroom downstairs..."

In an empty underground classroom, Glenn stared thoughtfully at the troll, which, instead of fleeing, was walking toward him.

He had to admit, trolls were not a likable magical creature.

Twelve feet tall, with dull, pockmarked skin and a particularly foul stench.

Compared to its massive body, its basketball-sized head was pitifully small...

But then again, how could a troll even appear in Hogwarts?

"Could it be that we really have to fight a troll during the Sorting?" After a moment of thought, Glenn's furrowed brow relaxed.

That would make perfect sense.