Storm Before Halloween

Thank you to the esteemed reader "Wanwan Bukeya" for the reward of 2 capsules!! Two extra chapters!

The third week of October.

Ten days until Halloween.

Zhang Wen could clearly feel the atmosphere at Hogwarts changing.

It was not changing into something tense. Quite the opposite—the entire school was excited.

Halloween was one of Hogwarts' most important holidays of the year. The Great Hall would be decorated into a sea of jack-o'-lanterns, and the giant pumpkins Hagrid had grown were already big enough for two people to sit inside. The kitchen elves had begun preparing the Halloween feast menu half a month in advance.

Artoria showed an unusually proactive interest in the menu.

"Pumpkin pie, caramel apples, Chocolate Frog cake, treacle pudding—" She read out the information she had gathered from the kitchen elves, speaking ten percent faster than usual.

"You're looking forward to Halloween even more than the students are," Zhang Wen said.

"I am assessing the scale of logistical supplies."

"You're craving it."

Artoria did not deny it. In her system of expression, that was equivalent to an admission.

But Zhang Wen could not laugh.

The Halloween feast meant that all the students in the school would gather in the Great Hall. It meant the corridors would be empty. It meant that if the Basilisk moved during that time, there would be no witnesses in the corridors—but no victims either.

In the original story, the first Petrification occurred on Halloween night. Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, was Petrified in a puddle on the second-floor corridor.

If the timeline had not shifted, there were still ten days left.

Monday. The second Dueling Club.

This time, Zhang Wen made a bold adjustment—he sent Hermione onto the field.

Her opponent was Parkinson.

Pansy Parkinson, a second-year Slytherin student and one of Malfoy's followers. She had a vicious tongue and an impatient temperament, but her magical skill was average.

Zhang Wen had chosen her for two reasons. First, her ability was within Hermione's range of handling. Second, Parkinson was the sort to make impatient mistakes in battle—perfect for testing whether Hermione could exploit an opponent's errors.

"Are you nervous?" Zhang Wen asked Hermione before she stepped up.

"Of course I'm nervous." Hermione gripped her wand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "But I analyzed Parkinson's reaction patterns when she watched last time. Under pressure, she prioritizes the Petrification Charm because it's the spell she's most proficient with. The opening motion for the Petrification Charm has an obvious—"

"Hermione."

"Hm?"

"Stop thinking. Go fight."

Hermione took a deep breath and walked into the dueling area.

Parkinson was already standing across from her, a mocking curl on her lips.

"Salute your opponent," Artoria's voice rang out.

The two bowed.

"Begin."

Just as expected, Parkinson cast the Petrification Charm immediately.

Hermione did not use a Shield Charm.

She sidestepped.

It was not the smooth, tactical evasion Artoria used—it was more like a calculated lateral step, slightly stiff but perfectly timed. The Petrification Charm flew past her right shoulder and struck the protective barrier behind her.

Parkinson froze. She had not expected Hermione to dodge. In her mind, Hermione was the kind of bookworm who only knew how to raise a shield and block head-on.

That moment of hesitation gave Hermione roughly a second-long opening.

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's Disarming Charm was accurate and steady. It struck Parkinson's right hand. Her wand flew free.

The entire exchange took less than five seconds.

The spectators fell silent for a moment, then deafening cheers erupted from the Gryffindor side.

Parkinson stood where she was, her face livid.

Hermione walked over, picked up Parkinson's wand, and handed it back to her.

"Your right shoulder moves first when you begin casting the Petrification Charm," Hermione said. She was not showing off; she was genuinely offering feedback. "Next time, you could try reducing the movement in your shoulder."

Parkinson glared at her without saying a word, snatched back her wand, and turned away.

The Slytherin side was silent. But Zhang Wen noticed Zabini's mouth twitch—that was not mockery of Parkinson, but more like approval of Hermione.

Malfoy's expression was subtle. The look in his eyes when he watched Hermione no longer held the old contempt of "a Mudblood isn't worthy." In its place was something more complicated—perhaps confusion, perhaps a reassessment.

"Hermione Granger wins," Artoria announced.

As Hermione returned to the Gryffindor side, Harry and Ron each patted one of her shoulders. Neville Longbottom applauded behind them, smiling even more happily than Hermione herself.

Zhang Wen looked at Artoria.

There was an extremely slight curve at the corner of her mouth.

"She used the conclusion from the analysis report," Artoria said quietly.

"She made up for her lack of instinct with reason." Zhang Wen nodded. "She studied Parkinson's casting habits in advance. She didn't need fast reactions—she knew where the spell would fly before Parkinson even cast it."

"It differs from the prediction I taught Neville Longbottom. Neville reads the opponent's signals through the body. She uses her mind."

"Different paths, same destination."

Artoria nodded once.

After the Dueling Club ended, Zhang Wen was stopped by someone while packing up the venue.

"Professor Zhang."

He turned around.

Ginny Weasley stood at the entrance of the Great Hall.

She looked thinner than she had the week before. Her uniform collar hung loosely over her collarbones, and her complexion was far too pale for an eleven-year-old child.

But her eyes were clear. At that moment, they were clear.

"Miss Weasley." Zhang Wen controlled his expression. "What is it?"

Ginny hesitated for a long time.

Her hand tightly gripped her schoolbag strap. Zhang Wen knew the Diary was inside that bag—he could see the outline of a hard object pressing against the side.

"I..." Ginny began in a tiny voice. "Professor Zhang, if someone feels like she did something, but she doesn't remember doing it... is that normal?"

Zhang Wen's heart jolted.

She was asking for help.

Ginny Weasley was asking him for help.

"What kind of thing?" Zhang Wen crouched down so his gaze was level with Ginny's.

"For example..." Ginny's voice trembled. "I wake up in the morning and find paint on my hands, but I don't remember painting anything. Or... I find chicken feathers on my uniform, but I don't remember going to the coop."

Chicken feathers.

Zhang Wen's blood turned cold.

The chicken coop.

She had been to the chicken coop—or rather, the Diary had controlled her into going there.

In the original story, Ginny killed Hagrid's roosters under the Diary's control, because Voldemort knew that a rooster's crow was the Basilisk's weakness.

But Zhang Wen had already moved the three roosters to the fourth-floor storage room and deployment points around the castle. Hagrid's chicken coop now held only hens.

The Diary had sent Ginny to kill roosters—but she had not found any.

Zhang Wen let out half a breath of relief inwardly.

"Miss Weasley." He kept his voice as steady as possible. "Have these things you described only started happening recently?"

Ginny nodded, her eyes reddening.

"I thought it was because I was too tired. Hermione said I might just not be sleeping well. But—"

She bit her lip.

"But?"

"Sometimes, when I wake up, I find that I'm not in the dormitory." Ginny's voice was nearly inaudible. "Early Wednesday morning last week, when I woke up, I was standing in the Third Floor Corridor. I don't remember at all how I got there."

The Third Floor Corridor.

One of the rooster deployment points.

The Diary was guiding Ginny to find the roosters. It already knew they had been moved into the castle.

Zhang Wen's mind raced. Tom Riddle in the Diary was sharper than he had expected. He was not merely controlling Ginny to open the Chamber of Secrets—he was systematically eliminating the Basilisk's weakness.

"Miss Weasley." Zhang Wen looked directly into her eyes. "You need to listen carefully to what I'm about to say."

Ginny looked at him nervously.

"You are not sick. You are not going mad. But what you are experiencing is not normal."

Ginny's lips trembled.

"Something is influencing you." Zhang Wen chose the most direct wording. "Have you been communicating with something lately? Something... that isn't a living person?"

Ginny's face went white.

Her hand instinctively covered her schoolbag.

"You—how did you know—"

"I know," Zhang Wen said. "And I know what it is."

Ginny's tears fell.

"I never thought it would become like this—" She choked out. "At first, it only talked to me. It said its name was Tom. It listened to everything I said, more than anyone else—"

She cried too hard to continue.

Zhang Wen did not interrupt her. He waited.

At some point, Artoria had walked to the entrance of the Great Hall. She stood there without moving, silently watching the scene.

Ginny cried for about a minute. Then she wiped her tears with her sleeve and took a deep breath.

"It made me do some things," she said. "I don't remember exactly what I did, but I know they weren't good things. Every time I wake up, I feel terrified."

"Are you willing to give me that Diary?" Zhang Wen asked.

Ginny lowered her head and looked at her schoolbag.

Her hand remained on the bag for a long time.

Zhang Wen could feel the Diary resisting. Tom Riddle would not easily abandon his host—he would use the Diary to feed Ginny emotional dependence, making her feel that "without the Diary, she would lose her only friend."

But Ginny had come to him for help today.

That meant her willpower was still there.

Hermione's companionship, Fred and George's concern, Neville Longbottom's kindness—those things were all supporting Ginny. They had made her choose to seek help from an adult at the final moment, rather than remain silent.

Ginny slowly reached into her schoolbag.

She took out the black Diary.

The moment Zhang Wen saw it, he sensed a faint but undeniable fluctuation of magical power. It was not the magic of the Harry Potter world—it was more like the remnants of curse-based magecraft from the Type-Moon Universe. Cold, viscous, and corrosive magical energy.

A Horcrux.

A genuine Horcrux.

Ginny held the Diary out toward Zhang Wen.

Her hand was shaking. Tears still clung to her face.

"Take it away," she said. "Please."

Zhang Wen reached out his hand.

The instant his fingertips touched the Diary's cover—

A cold consciousness slammed into his mind.

It was not physical. It was mental. As though someone had driven an ice pick into his temples while whispering in his ear.

The voice was vague, but Zhang Wen made out several words—

"You—are—not—worthy—"

Tom Riddle.

The soul fragment in the Diary had sensed a new person touching it and instinctively tried to repel him.

Zhang Wen's Magic Circuits activated automatically. Magical energy from the Type-Moon Universe surged through his body and collided head-on with the cold consciousness emanating from the Diary.

The confrontation lasted less than a second.

Then the Diary went quiet.

Zhang Wen held the Diary in his hand. Its cover was icy cold, but there was no longer any mental assault.

Tom Riddle had tried and failed. Zhang Wen's mental defenses were not comparable to those of an eleven-year-old girl—he had experienced a Holy Grail War and fought against Caster's mental interference. A mental attack from a Horcrux fragment could not even cross the threshold with him.

"Alright." Zhang Wen slipped the Diary into the inner pocket of his robe. "It won't influence you anymore."

Ginny stood there as though everything had been drained out of her. But her eyes were brighter than before.

It was the relief of finally having something that had weighed on her for so long taken away.

"Professor Zhang..." she said quietly. "Will I be expelled?"

"No," Zhang Wen said. "You are the victim, not the perpetrator. You did the right thing—you asked an adult for help."

Ginny cried again.

But this time, they were tears of release.

Artoria stepped forward. She crouched down in front of Ginny.

"Miss Weasley." Artoria's voice was gentler than usual—this was the first time Zhang Wen had heard her speak to someone in that tone. "You are very brave."

Ginny looked up at Artoria, her face streaked with tears.

"You should know that admitting your vulnerability and predicament to others requires greater courage than facing any enemy," Artoria said. "You did it."

Ginny wiped away her tears and nodded hard.

"Now go find your brothers," Artoria said. "Fred and George are waiting for you in the common room."

"They know?"

"They do not know the specifics. But they know that you need company."

Ginny hesitated for a moment, then bowed to the two of them.

"Thank you."

She turned and ran away.

As she ran out of the Great Hall, her footsteps were much lighter than when she had arrived.

Only Zhang Wen and Artoria remained in the Great Hall.

Zhang Wen took out the Diary from his robes and placed it on the podium.

The two of them looked at the little black notebook.

"The plan has changed," Zhang Wen said.

"Mm."

"The premise of Plan B was to keep things developing within a controllable range. But Ginny broke that premise herself—she voluntarily handed over the Diary."

"That's a good thing," Artoria said.

"Of course it's a good thing. Ginny is safe." Zhang Wen let out a long breath. "But the Basilisk is still in the Chamber of Secrets. Once the Diary is taken away, no one can use Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets—Harry can, but I don't want him taking that risk. And—"

He paused.

"The Diary hasn't been destroyed yet."

"The Basilisk Fang."

"Right. We need to kill the Basilisk to obtain its fangs and destroy the Diary. But the Chamber of Secrets hasn't been opened yet, and the Basilisk can't get out from inside."

"Then open the Chamber of Secrets," Artoria said.

Zhang Wen looked at her.

"Do you know Parseltongue?"

"No. But Harry does."

"I said I don't want him taking that risk."

"Have him open the door, but don't let him go inside." Artoria said, "He only needs to stand at the entrance, say a sentence in Parseltongue, and then leave. I'll be the one going in."

Zhang Wen stared at her for several seconds.

"You'll face the Basilisk alone in the Chamber of Secrets."

"I've faced more terrifying things."

There was no arguing with that. Compared to a Servant on Berserker's level, a snake—no matter how large—really was nothing.

But Zhang Wen was still worried.

"The Basilisk's gaze—"

"Close my eyes."

"You aren't familiar with the terrain in the Chamber of Secrets—"

"I will be once I'm inside."

"What if there are other traps—"

"Then we'll go together." Artoria looked at him. "You won't be at ease waiting outside the Chamber of Secrets either. We might as well go in together. You handle scouting and support, and I'll handle the fighting. Just like in the Holy Grail War."

Zhang Wen fell silent.

She was right.

He would definitely be too anxious to sit still while waiting outside. Rather than that, it was better to act together. He could cast spells with his eyes closed—his new wand was accurate enough that he could locate targets by sound.

"What do we need to prepare?" Zhang Wen asked.

"Three things." Artoria held up three fingers. "First, Harry needs to speak Parseltongue at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and open it. Second, a rooster—we'll bring one inside as a last resort. Third—"

She held out her hand.

Her palm faced upward.

Golden light gathered in her hand.

Wind blew in from somewhere unknown.

Invisible Air—the sword concealed by the wind appeared in her hand.

"Third," she said, "I need a sword."

Zhang Wen looked at the invisible sword in her hand.

Excalibur.

Back in the Type-Moon Universe, releasing that sword's true name could destroy an entire city. Although Artoria's source of magical energy had changed after coming to this world, and its full-power release definitely would not be as powerful as before—it was more than enough to cut down a snake.

"You've always had a sword," Zhang Wen said.

"Invisible Air has always been there. But I'm not sure whether I can still fully release Excalibur's power in this world." Artoria's tone was calm. "Before the Chamber of Secrets, I need to test it once."

"Where?"

"Deep in the Forbidden Forest. Farther from the castle."

Zhang Wen thought about it. One release of Excalibur—even at low power—would create enormous magical fluctuations and physical shockwaves. Using it near Hogwarts would be like setting off fireworks beside the school; Dumbledore and Snape would rush over within seconds.

"Tomorrow night." Zhang Wen made his decision. "Tomorrow night, we'll go to the Forbidden Forest. I'll give Dumbledore a heads-up first—tell him we're conducting practical Defense Against the Dark Arts training in the Forbidden Forest. He probably won't stop us."

Artoria nodded.

Then she glanced at the Diary on the podium.

"How should we keep this thing before we destroy it?"

Zhang Wen thought for a moment.

The Diary could not be left around carelessly. Though Tom Riddle's soul fragment had no chance to act while it was in his hands, if someone else touched it—especially someone weak-minded—the consequences would be unimaginable.

"Give it to Dumbledore," Zhang Wen said. "He can keep it safe. Besides, he needs to study it—understanding the nature of Horcruxes is extremely important to him."

"Take it to him tonight?"

"Tonight."

The two of them walked out of the Great Hall.

In the corridor, the setting sun streamed through the windows, casting long patterns of light and shadow across the stone floor.

After taking a few steps, Zhang Wen suddenly stopped.

"Artoria."

"Mm?"

"Ginny came to find me on her own."

"Yes."

"It wasn't because of my plan. Not because of the mirrors, the roosters, or the map of the pipes." Zhang Wen said, "It was because Hermione talked with her, Fred and George sat beside her, and Neville Longbottom smiled at her, making her feel that she wasn't alone. It was the sum of those little things that gave her the courage to ask for help."

Artoria looked at him.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying—I used to think about everything in terms of 'plans' and 'strategies.' But the way Ginny broke the plan today told me that some things can't be planned."

He paused.

"Human hearts."

Artoria was silent for several seconds.

"In Camelot," she began, "I made the same mistake. I always governed the country with strategies and managed the knights through systems. I thought that as long as the plan was perfect enough, everything would develop as expected."

Her voice lowered slightly.

"But in the end, what caused Camelot to collapse was not the failure of strategy. It was the loss of people's hearts. I did not see the cracks in the knights' hearts because I only looked at plans, not people."

Zhang Wen looked at her.

This was the most candid thing Artoria had ever said about Camelot.

"That's why you care so much about Neville Longbottom," Zhang Wen said. "Not because the plan needs him, but because you saw him."

Artoria did not answer.

But her gaze softened for an instant.

It was very brief. If Zhang Wen had not been watching her the whole time, he would never have noticed it.

"Let's go," she said. "Let's find Dumbledore."

"Wait."

"What?"

"What you said to Ginny just now—about courage." Zhang Wen said, "Did you make that up on the spot?"

"Yes."

"Did you used to say things like that to your knights?"

Artoria thought for a moment.

"No," she said. "In Camelot, I was not good at expressing myself. I thought setting an example was enough. The knights did not need my words; they only needed my actions."

"But you said it to Ginny just now."

"She needed to hear it," Artoria said. "Sometimes, one sentence is more important than a thousand actions. That is what I learned in this world."

She paused.

"I learned it from you."

Zhang Wen's steps halted for a moment.

Artoria had already walked ahead.

"Keep up," she said without looking back. "Dumbledore's Lemon Sherbet won't wait forever."

Zhang Wen looked at her back—her straight spine, her lightly swaying golden ponytail, her steady, unhurried steps.

From the time he had met Artoria until now—from the Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City, to being kicked out of the Type-Moon Universe by the Counter Force, to coming to Hogwarts and pretending to be professors—she had always been the one standing in front of him.

But at some point, she had also begun learning things from him.

Plans could fail. Strategies could be broken.

But the connection between people—those little acts of kindness, little concerns, little moments of courage—were variables beyond any plan.

They were the best variables.

Zhang Wen quickened his pace and caught up with her.

The two of them walked side by side through the corridor beneath the setting sun.

Halloween was ten days away.

The Basilisk was still waiting in the Chamber of Secrets.

But the Diary was already in his hands.

The scales of this war were tilting toward their side.