Halloween Eve

Great Hall.

The holiday feast had always been the moment Hogwarts students looked forward to most, even on grim Halloween.

To suit the occasion, the Great Hall had been carefully decorated:

Professor McGonagall had used Transfiguration to spread skeletons and ghosts across the walls;

Professor Flitwick had released thousands of live bats, which fluttered around the walls and ceiling of the Great Hall;

Hagrid had "grown" a batch of enormous pumpkins, hollowing them out into jack-o'-lanterns.

If not for the enormous candles inside them, quite a few young couples might have been willing to hide in them for a pumpkin date;

Tver had also cast a little spell, causing all kinds of strange ghosts to float near the top of the Great Hall.

Unlike the castle ghosts, however, they looked more like sheet-covered little ghouls from Muggle films and television, with wildly exaggerated expressions on their faces.

Rather than frightening, they were adorable and comical.

"Some of these little ghouls contain rewards from me. They glow like the targets in the light-orb game. Hit them, and candy will drop!"

The moment he finished speaking, multicolored flashes shot up from the long tables toward the ceiling.

But one second later, the young wizards regretted it.

Once the little ghouls were shattered, candy began raining down with a clatter, pelting them on the heads.

The young wizards instantly scattered with their heads covered, holding schoolbags over themselves like cute little mice spotted by a cat, trembling in fear.

Aside from Quirrell, all the professors sat at the staff table, gleefully watching the panicked students and letting out thoroughly wicked laughter.

After a while, all the little ghouls had been smashed, and the candy finally stopped falling.

"Ha ha," Dumbledore said as he rose to his feet, unable to stop himself from laughing. "Many thanks to Professor Fawley for bringing us this little game before the feast. And now, let the feast begin!"

Ron, who had been bent over collecting candy, only then realized that the long table, previously scattered with sweets, had instantly filled with a dazzling assortment of delicious dishes, as lavish as the start-of-term feast.

Harry picked up a few pieces of candy before stopping and sitting down to taste them.

"This candy is actually soft. It's kind of like gummy candy."

Ron stuffed his arms full of candy into his schoolbag, then patted it with a satisfied expression.

"I'd better save these. This might be the only time I ever get a reward from Professor Fawley."

At those words, the hands of the surrounding students froze as they unwrapped candy. The older students in particular began stuffing every piece of candy they could find into their bags, and quite a few disputes broke out.

In their imaginations, these were candies Professor Fawley had specially prepared for them!

"Compared to candy, I'd rather have one of those little ghouls. They're so cute~"

A Slytherin upper-year girl clutched two pieces of candy tightly. They were the spoils from smashing that adorable little ghoul.

Only after every piece of candy had been swept away did the students turn their attention back to the feast.

"Now that annoying Granger won't get any feast, or even any candy," Ron said with glee.

Hermione's roommate, Lavender Brown, frowned in displeasure.

"Don't talk about Hermione like that. She's still hiding in the girls' bathroom crying!"

Ron scratched his head in confusion. "Crying? Why would she cry?"

"Because of you lot, obviously. You keep talking badly about her behind her back all day. She's never really happy in the dormitory."

"But that mouth of hers makes it hard not to dislike her."

"Uh..." Lavender was momentarily at a loss for words. "She means well. She's just a little too blunt when she talks."

"You call that—"

"BANG!"

The doors to the Great Hall suddenly flew open with a deafening crash that seemed capable of shaking dust from the ceiling. Quirrell charged forward with his head down, his turban askew and nearly exposing the back of his head.

He ran up to Dumbledore, straightened his hat, and then said in terror, "There's a troll in the dungeons—I... I thought you ought to know."

After saying that, he turned and gave Tver a look before collapsing with a creak.

The Great Hall immediately descended into chaos. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, and before they could speak, someone voiced what they were both thinking.

"Hermione is in the girls' bathroom in the dungeons! What about her?!" Lavender cried, clawing at her face hard enough to leave several red marks.

Ron and Harry had no mood to laugh at her, because they were just as terrified!

"Professor! We need to get a professor!" Harry immediately thought of an idea. "Professor Fawley is so powerful—he can definitely deal with the troll and save Hermione!"

Ron immediately agreed. Taking advantage of the panicked crowd, he and Harry squeezed their way to the staff table and found Tver, who was examining Quirrell.

Harry took a deep breath before urgently saying, "Professor Fawley, Hermione—Hermione is still in the dungeons!"

"You have to save her, or she'll die!"

"Don't worry. Hermione will be fine."

Tver walked over to Dumbledore, who was preparing to restore order, and whispered in his ear, "Headmaster, I want to take the students to the dungeons and use the troll to teach them a lesson."

Dumbledore turned toward him in surprise. "Dealing with a troll is easy, but can you guarantee the students' safety?"

Defence Against the Dark Arts would, of course, teach students how to defend themselves against dangerous creatures, but he had never heard of anyone using a troll as a teaching aid.

"I absolutely won't let the students suffer even the slightest injury. On the contrary, they might not encounter an opponent this huge even once in all seven years."

After pondering for a moment, Dumbledore asked again, "In that case, will you be taking the older students?"

Twer gestured toward Quirrell, who was still lying on the ground.

"Forget it. Aren't the older students supposed to be Professor Quirrell's responsibility over there?"

Dumbledore smiled helplessly. "All right, I'll have Percy take the third-years and below to the basement."

Only then did Twer leave with satisfaction. He still had to make some preparations—at the very least, he needed to make the troll a little more obedient.

Leaving the Great Hall, Twer strode toward the basement.

It was still as gloomy and cold here as it had been when he first arrived at Hogwarts.

So, along the way, he set up several torches, illuminating the corridors and stairs leading to the basement and driving away the bone-chilling cold.

Just as he finished arranging everything, he heard a terrified scream.

The troll had made its entrance!

Following the sound, he arrived outside a girls' bathroom. The bathroom door had already been destroyed, and the sounds of spellcasting inside carried out without obstruction.

Looking inside, he saw a massive creature standing at the entrance to the bathroom, gripping an equally enormous wooden club in its hand.

Its body stood a full twelve feet tall, its skin dull gray like granite, and just as solid.

Yet in comparison, its head was as tiny as an Every Flavour Bean, looking utterly disproportionate.

Its flat, thick, callused feet seemed to be pinned down by some invisible force, making it struggle tremendously just to lift them and take a single step forward.

Hermione, meanwhile, was crouched in a corner, gripping her wand tightly with both hands and continuously unleashing magic at the troll.

Whether from fear or excessive magical exhaustion, her determined little face had gone pale, and beads of sweat streamed continuously down her forehead.