October 31.
When Lin Ze pushed open his window that morning, the sight outside nearly made him throw up the half sandwich left over from last night.
Three Dark Marks floated above Diagon Alley.
Three.
Lined up in a neat row, presumably festive decorations put up by those utterly bored Death Eaters.
The green skulls writhed slowly in the gray sky, enormous snakes emerging from their mouths and twisting about. Watching them for too long was almost nauseating.
"How creative."
Lin Ze leaned against the window frame as though commenting on a neighbor's Halloween jack-o'-lanterns.
"Other people hang fairy lights. You lot hang skulls. At least your taste is consistent."
There were hardly any wizards among the pedestrians on the street.
Occasionally, a few cloaked wizards hurried past with their heads down, looking as though they wished they could curl themselves into balls.
Walking along Diagon Alley, Lin Ze noticed that the old man at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was inside making the day's ice cream.
His movements were unhurried, and an unlit pipe hung from his mouth.
"Mr. Fortescue, there are three of those things hanging overhead, and you're still opening?"
The old man raised his head, glanced through the window at the Dark Marks in the sky, then took the pipe out of his mouth.
"What's three? A few years back, there were five in one day, and I still opened as usual." He tucked his sign under his arm and slowly added,
"Besides, it's Halloween. The children still need their ice cream."
Lin Ze stood stunned for quite a while, then laughed aloud.
This was probably the most admirable thing about the wizarding world-however terrifying the Dark Lord was, life still had to go on.
"Mr. Fortescue, you really have a wonderful outlook," Lin Ze said with genuine admiration.
"It's not about outlook." The old man put his pipe back in his mouth and spoke indistinctly.
"You'll understand when you're my age. This world can only get so bad, and it can only get so good. Dark Lord or Ministry of Magic, life has to go on just the same."
With that, he turned back to making his ice cream.
Lin Ze stood by the window a little longer, watching the three Dark Marks slowly circling overhead. Suddenly, the scene really did seem rather like hanging lanterns for the Spring Festival, only the color wasn't very festive.
"What an overactive imagination." He patted his own face.
He continued along Diagon Alley's cobblestones.
Withered yellow leaves covered the street, rustling beneath his feet.
Most shops had their doors shut. Apart from the ice cream parlour, only Gringotts remained open.
As Lin Ze crossed Diagon Alley, he suddenly felt that something was wrong.
It was too quiet.
And not just the alley.
The sensation was difficult to describe, as though an enormous glass dome had been lowered over his head, shutting out every sound.
"I'm overthinking it." He shook his head and quickened his pace toward the Ministry of Magic.
Passing the Leaky Cauldron, he instinctively pushed at its front door and discovered that it wasn't locked.
So he pushed it open and went inside.
Seeing Lin Ze enter, Old Tom pointed his chin toward a radio in the corner.
It was broadcasting an emergency announcement from the Ministry of Magic, the announcer's voice hurried and tense.
"...We have received the latest reports that Death Eaters are gathering toward Diagon Alley. The Ministry of Magic has activated a level-one emergency response. All Aurors are to report for duty immediately. Repeat, all Aurors are to report for duty immediately. Residents of Diagon Alley and the surrounding areas should evacuate immediately or remain indoors. Do not go outside..."
Lin Ze stood still, listening to the broadcast as his expression gradually grew serious.
Gathering.
Death Eaters were gathering in Diagon Alley.
Nothing like this had ever happened before.
Brazen as the Death Eaters were, their activities had always been concentrated in Knockturn Alley and more remote areas.
Diagon Alley was the wizarding world's busiest shopping street, home to Gringotts, right under the Ministry of Magic's nose.
If the Death Eaters dared gather here, it meant they had reached the point where they no longer feared the Ministry of Magic at all.
"Lin." Old Tom's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Do you want to stay here? Things aren't right out there."
"No." Lin Ze shook his head.
"I still have to go to the Ministry..."
"But you're not an Auror anymore..."
"I know," Lin Ze interrupted.
"But on a day like this, the Ministry is bound to need people."
Old Tom watched him in silence for a while, then took a paper bag from beneath the bar and handed it to him.
"Here. Steak and kidney pie, fresh out of the oven."
Lin Ze took the paper bag, momentarily taken aback.
"On the house." Old Tom nodded at him.
"Thanks, Tom."
"All right, all right, off you go." Old Tom waved a hand.
Lin Ze chuckled, stuffed the steak and kidney pie into his coat pocket, and turned to leave.
He had barely stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron when he stopped.
Because he heard a voice.
"You fools at the Ministry of Magic."
Lin Ze's back instantly tensed.
"Your minister hides trembling in his office. Your Aurors dare not patrol the streets. Your Dumbledore does nothing but guard his castle."
"This is everything you rely on."
"Now, the Dark Lord offers you one final chance. Hand over all the traitors hiding within the Ministry of Magic. Hand over the Potters. Hand over your incompetent minister, and the Dark Lord may spare your lives."
"Otherwise, today will be your Halloween."
The voice drew out the final word, like a dull knife grinding between bones.
Lin Ze stood there, his palms slightly damp, yet the corners of his mouth slowly lifted.
He recognized it.
This was Voldemort's voice.
More precisely, it was Voldemort's voice amplified by magic.
The Dark Lord had personally delivered a prebattle speech in Diagon Alley.
"Lin, what are you standing there for? Get inside! Don't stand there!"
Lin Ze turned to look at Old Tom.
"Tom, tell me... if the Dark Lord knew he had less than a day left, would he still be this arrogant?"
"What?" Old Tom clearly hadn't understood.
"Nothing." Lin Ze shook his head, then took a deep breath.
He ought to have stayed in the pub and waited safely for all of this to end.
But suddenly, he no longer wanted to.
Because today was October 31.
Today was the day Voldemort fell.
And during his final month in this world, he had been accumulating bargaining chips, connections, and information.
Now, he needed a stage where everyone could see him.
A stage that would allow him to step into the spotlight with every right to be there after Voldemort's downfall.
And, honestly, he also wanted to witness it for himself.
He looked up at Old Tom and grinned.
"Tom, do you think I'd look a bit stupid if I went out and picked a fight with the Death Eaters today?"
Old Tom looked as though he had just heard something insane. "You're not an Auror anymore! You're just a clerk at the Records Office! Your job now is sorting documents! What can you do out there?"
"I don't know," Lin Ze answered honestly.
"But I feel like hiding in a pub eating steak and kidney pie doesn't really fit my character."
He reached into his coat pocket and felt the notebook filled with names and secrets.
After Voldemort's downfall, everyone in that notebook would be brought to account.
And by then, his name, Lin Ze, had to be so well known that no one could ignore it.
"Fuck." He swore in Chinese, then waved to Old Tom.
"Tom, thanks for the kind offer, anyway."
At some point, a thin layer of mist had appeared over Diagon Alley's cobblestones.
The gray-green skulls still circled in the sky, the snakes' tongues flicking in and out.
And at the southern end of Diagon Alley, toward the entrance to Knockturn Alley, a group of hooded, masked figures was slowly gathering.
The light of spells flickered at their wand tips, illuminating the grotesque patterns on their masks.
At least thirty of them.
Lin Ze stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, watching the distant Death Eaters, then slowly drew his wand.
He glanced back at the Leaky Cauldron.
Old Tom stood in the doorway, still clutching his glass-cleaning rag, his mouth hanging wide open.
"Lin! Get back here! Have you gone mad?"
"Maybe."
Lin Ze smiled, then turned and headed toward the southern end of Diagon Alley.
He did not walk quickly, but every step was steady.
The wind lifted the hem of his coat, exposing the shirt beneath, faded somewhat from washing.
A fine rain began falling again, cool against his face.
Three Dark Marks slowly revolved above his head, like absurd festive decorations.
And Lin Ze, a Records Management Office clerk who had been on the job for a month, was walking alone toward thirty Death Eaters.
"This fucking job."
He muttered to himself, an inexplicable lightness in his tone.
"I'm really going places."