A faint chill slipped through the cracks of the door, carried by the night breeze, but it was quickly chased away as Dumbledore raised his wand, filling the Great Hall with warmth once more.
The gold and silver dishes had been cleared from the long tables, and the feast had vanished. In their place were stacks of grey wool blankets and steaming copper kettles, bubbling with white mist.
Gryffindor students huddled together in small groups. Hermione, who'd been off doing who-knows-what, plopped down across from Dylan, her bushy hair looking like an exploded ball of yarn. She was busy comforting a sniffling Lavender while nervously flipping through Defensive Magical Theory on her lap.
Ron sat a few seats away, with Harry in between. Both looked grim, wrapped in blankets on the bench.
Creak.
The heavy doors swung open, and the Slytherins slithered in, followed by the Hufflepuffs—many wearing thick yellow-and-black striped jumpers, some clutching clay jars likely filled with homemade snacks. Finally, the Ravenclaws filed in, arms full of pillows and books.
The Halloween decorations still hung in the Great Hall. Dumbledore stepped onto the dais, and the carved pumpkins flared to life, their golden glow illuminating his silver beard.
"Children," he began, "I trust you've all heard my message. Tonight, due to a serious incident, Hogwarts will undergo a thorough inspection. The professors will search every corner of the castle to ensure your safety. For tonight, this hall is your home."
As he spoke, McGonagall and Flitwick waved their wands. The Great Hall's doors slammed shut, sealed with magic. The gusts from the closing doors carried a chill, but the hall's warmth quickly dispelled it. Only one exit remained slightly ajar, its frame wrapped in silver chains conjured by Snape.
"Prefects," Dumbledore called, turning to the older students at the front. Percy immediately stood straighter. "Guard the entrances. Remember what I've said about courage—you'll understand its meaning by holding your posts tonight."
His gaze shifted to the Head Boy and Girl. Percy puffed out his chest even more.
"Head Boy and Girl, maintain order. If anything unusual happens—" His wand tip sparked, releasing a burst of blue light the size of a flock of doves. Instantly, several ghosts glided through the walls, gathering around. "No need to leave. Summon the nearest ghost to deliver a message to me."
Dumbledore turned to leave but paused, glancing at the students crowded along the tables. "I almost forgot the most important thing."
With a light chuckle, he flicked his wand in an elegant arc. The ceiling split open, and a cascade of silver-blue light poured down, transforming into thick sleeping bags as it hit the floor—red for Gryffindor, green for Slytherin, yellow for Hufflepuff, and blue for Ravenclaw. They smelled faintly of sun-dried hay and lined up neatly beside each table.
"I hope these help you sleep soundly," Dumbledore said, waving his wand again. The pumpkin lanterns dimmed, save for a few that detached from the ceiling to float along the walls, softening the hall's light to a gentle glow.
"Stay here, no matter what you hear. Rest assured, the professors and I will keep any danger at bay."
With a final reassuring glance, he joined McGonagall, Snape, and the other professors, slipping through the narrow gap of the remaining door. As they left, the heavy wood creaked shut, and Snape's chain spell clicked sharply, sealing the hall from the outside world.
Even with sleeping bags distributed, no one felt like sleeping. The students were a mix of adrenaline-pumped excitement and creeping fear.
"I heard it's Sirius Black," a Gryffindor whispered. "That nutter escaped Azkaban and now he's snuck into Hogwarts. Who knows what he's up to?"
The Gryffindors, being at the heart of the drama, shared what they knew, and soon the other houses were clued in.
Neville, wrapped in a wool blanket, looked uneasy. "Dylan, what do you think Sirius Black wants?"
Dylan sighed. In just one night, Neville had asked him a dozen times what was going on, who was behind it, and what they wanted.
"Obviously, he's hiding from the Ministry and the Dementors," Dylan said, shaking his head.
"Er…" Neville faltered. "Hiding's one thing, but why here? Why wreck our dorms and hurt the Fat Lady? She's so nice!"
Dylan blinked. Nice? Sure, maybe. He shrugged. "You never know when someone who wants to hurt you will show up."
Neville glanced at him. "Maybe, but if you can see the future, you'd know, right?"
Dylan: "…"
I'm trying to drop some wisdom, and you're talking magic. Alright, fine.
This year, it didn't seem like Voldemort would make any big moves. As for Sirius Black, Dylan wasn't keen on getting involved. If it was just about saving him from the Ministry, Hermione would handle it. If it was about pulling Black into his own world—well, that'd mean keeping him locked up, and Dylan wasn't about to experiment on him. Turning the guy into an idiot would be overkill; Black was already foolish enough.
Besides, inviting Black into his world just to have him loaf around or do odd jobs? Pointless.
"Let someone else deal with it," Dylan muttered, yawning. "It's late. I'm sleeping."
The feast had already dragged on, and he'd planned to relax with Sooty and the others before bed. Now? Straight to sleep.
"Neville, I'm knackered. Chat with Dean and Seamus for a bit."
Neville blinked. "You're sleeping already? Alright, rest up."
He wanted Dylan to stay and talk, but if Dylan was set on sleeping, that was that. With so many people around, Neville felt safe enough not to push.
Neville shuffled off, blanket in tow, to join Seamus. The group chattered noisily, and Dylan rubbed his temples. These kids were loud.
He pulled out his wand and gave it a slight twirl. "*Fluffel Triad!*"
It was a variant of a Transfiguration charm. Instantly, the red sleeping bag Dumbledore had provided puffed up, expanding into a plush, cozy cocoon. It was warm and comfy, though the bright red color was a bit garish.
Dylan clicked his tongue. "Dumbledore's got no taste."
But it was just a sleeping bag. Eyes closed, color didn't matter. He cast a Silencing Charm on it, climbed in, and zipped it up.
He reached for his suitcase but realized the bag, while warm, was too snug to fit it. "Eh, forget it. No playing with Sooty tonight. Early sleep it is."
Dumbledore and the others wouldn't find Black tonight—at least not officially. Whether Dumbledore was secretly helping Black dodge the Ministry was none of Dylan's business.
"Maybe when Black's about to kick the bucket, I'll pull him into my world," Dylan mused. "He'd be 'dead' to everyone else, so he could do chores for me."
Or, if Snape was ever in a foul mood, Dylan could whip out Black to redirect his anger. Not a bad plan. "Maybe I'll gift Black to Snape for his birthday one year." Finding professor gifts was always a headache.
Instead of entering his pet space, Dylan tossed some treats to Sooty and the others, then drifted off.
Outside, Seamus and Dean were animatedly recounting the night's events to some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. When Neville joined, they waved him over, but spotting Dylan already in his sleeping bag, they instinctively lowered their voices.
"Hm?" A few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked confused.
"What's up?" one asked.
Neville whispered to Seamus and Dean, "Don't worry, Dylan put a Silencing Charm on his sleeping bag."
Dean sighed in relief but raised an eyebrow at Neville. "Then why're you whispering?"
"Er…" Neville blinked, scratching his head. He turned to the others with a sheepish grin. "Nothing, let's keep going!"
Just then, Luna rose from the Ravenclaw table and drifted over to Neville's group. Hermione, who'd been chatting with Harry and an eye-rolling Ron, looked up.
Luna stopped by Neville. "Have you seen Dylan?"
Neville's eyelashes fluttered. Was this…?
"Dylan…" he started, but before he could finish, Hermione stood, leaving a bewildered Harry and a grumbling Ron behind.
"Why're you looking for him?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.
Luna turned, her long hair falling as she cocked her head. "Do you need something?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I'm asking you what you want."
Neville watched the two, sensing tension but unsure why. He jumped up to defuse it. "Hey, no arguing. Dylan's asleep. What did you need him for?"
Hermione crossed her arms. "Whatever it is, he hates being woken up. Talk to him tomorrow."
Luna ignored her, looking at Neville, who nodded nervously.
Seeing Neville confirm it, Luna dipped her head slightly. She trusted the chubby boy who was always with Dylan. He never gave off even a hint of hostility. Besides Dylan, she'd occasionally chat with Neville—usually when she and Dylan had plans, and Neville tagged along. Over time, they'd gotten to know each other.
Dylan slept soundly through the night. When he woke, he unzipped the sleeping bag, crawled out, and stretched lazily. The pumpkin lanterns' glow was faint now, outshone by the morning sunlight streaming in. That they'd burned all night spoke to the skill of the witch or wizard who'd charmed them.
Dylan cracked his joints and stretched. "Could've been in my big bed with my pets, but no, I'm stuck in a sleeping bag."
He wasn't planning to nab Sirius Black just yet, but when the time came, he'd make sure Black learned Hogwarts' old rule the hard way: No wandering after curfew.
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