At midnight, when Sirius encountered the beech tree, the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle was filled with a tense yet quiet atmosphere.
The vast chamber, normally echoing with the cheerful clatter of meals and lively conversation, had been transformed into a makeshift dormitory filled with tension.
Hundreds of sleeping bags lay scattered across the cold floor like colorful patches on an enormous quilt, each one containing a restless student whose mind raced with fearful thoughts.
The enchanted ceiling above reflected the true night sky—dark clouds drifting across a star-studded canvas, occasionally revealing glimpses of a pale moon that cast silver shadows through the tall gothic windows. The floating candles had been dimmed to a soft, amber glow, creating warm light that only just held back the encroaching darkness.
Despite the late hour and the exhaustion weighing on young shoulders, very few students had managed to find the peace of sleep. Instead, the hall buzzed with whispered conversations that flowed like hidden streams through the darkness.
This restlessness was hardly surprising. How could anyone expect a group of teenagers to sleep peacefully when a notorious mass murderer had just attempted to break into their school?
Similarly, most people's discussions had only one topic: how Sirius Black had managed to enter Hogwarts.
In one corner of the hall, Harry lay propped on his elbow. The trio were also huddled together, quietly discussing how Black had broken through the Dementor blockade.
"The Dementors are supposed to be watching every entrance," Harry murmured. "So how did he get past them? He must know the Patronus Charm—it's the only thing that can drive Dementors away."
Hermione's brown eyes flashed with disagreement. "You're oversimplifying, Harry. Think about it logically—if Black had encountered the Dementors and used a Patronus, they would have immediately alerted the Ministry."
She paused, her expression growing more serious as she recalled. "Besides, I read in 'Defensive Magical Theory' that Dark wizards are incapable of producing a Patronus. The charm requires positive emotions—hope, happiness, love—feelings that are opposing to someone who has embraced the Dark Arts."
Harry frowned. "But then how— What do you think, Ron?" Harry turned toward his friend, expecting another perspective on their puzzle.
The question stayed in the air unanswered. Ron, despite the seriousness of the situation and the lively discussion happening inches from his ear, had surrendered to exhaustion. His body was curled awkwardly in his sleeping bag, his mouth slightly open as he emitted soft snores.
Hermione rolled her eyes n. "Honestly, how can he sleep at a time like this?"
Harry couldn't help but smile slightly. "Maybe he's got the right idea. We're not going to solve this tonight."
But even as he said it, Harry's mind continued to race. Something about the night's events didn't sit right with him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
Meanwhile, in the dim corridor just outside the Great Hall, Adrian found his path suddenly blocked by a familiar figure. Snape appeared from the darkness with his distinctive ability to move silently.
"You're not staying with that monster?" Snape asked, his voice carrying its usual silky menace.
Adrian felt a momentary confusion at the term. 'Monster?'
Then he quickly understood. Snape must be referring to Remus, Adrian's fellow searcher. The werewolf. Even after all these years, Snape couldn't bring himself to use Remus's name
"We split up to cover more ground," Adrian replied concisely. "Remus is handling the upper floors while I search the lower levels."
Snape's thin lips curved into something that might have been called a smile if it had contained any warmth at all. Instead, it was a cold, predatory expression.
"Allow me to offer you some... reminder," Snape continued, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "For Black to infiltrate Hogwarts so easily, to know exactly how to bypass our defenses, he must have had inside assistance."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, feeling the accusation in those words. "Why don't you speak more plainly, Professor Snape? I'm afraid I don't appreciate riddles at this hour."
Snape snorted coldly. "Oh, I think you understand perfectly well what I'm implying. That's all I'll say on the matter. Keep a close eye on that monster—I have some urgent information to share with Dumbledore."
With those ominous words, Snape whirled around as he disappeared around the corner.
Adrian stood alone in the flickering torchlight, his mind processing Snape's words.
Snape believed Remus had helped Sirius gain entry to the castle. From a certain perspective, it wasn't entirely unreasonable. The two had been friends at school, both members of the infamous Marauders. To someone who didn't know the full story, it might indeed seem logical.
But Adrian knew better. Remus would never willingly endanger the students of Hogwarts, regardless of his personal feelings about Sirius.
In the early morning hours, the exhausted students finally fell asleep one by one, and the professors also ended their nighttime search.
Obviously, there had been no results.
At the entrance, Adrian looked at the countless sleeping bags in the great hall and yawned.
"The professors need rest as well," Adrian suggested to Dumbledore beside, his voice carrying the exhaustion they all felt. "At least a few hours of sleep before we have to face whatever tomorrow brings."
Dumbledore's beard twitched with what might have been amusement. "Tomorrow's classes are cancelled," He replied, his voice carrying its usual warmth despite the circumstances. "Everyone will have plenty of time to rest and recover."
At that moment, a flash of red and gold caught Adrian's attention. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, appeared on the headmaster's shoulder in a burst of flame that somehow managed to be both dramatic and completely silent.
The magnificent bird was currently in his juvenile stage, his body covered in soft golden-red feathers that made him look more like an exotic chick than the legendary creature he was.
The young phoenix nuzzled Dumbledore's cheek affectionately. Then Fawkes extended one talon, revealing a tightly rolled piece of parchment sealed with official-looking wax.
Adrian couldn't help but wonder if using a phoenix—even a juvenile one—as a messenger service constituted some form of magical child labor.
The thought was absurd enough to bring a tired smile to his face, though he quickly suppressed it. This was hardly the time for such reveries.
"Who would be sending you letter at this hour?" Adrian asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer. "The Ministry, I presume?"
Dumbledore's fingers worked carefully at the wax seal. As he unfolded the parchment and his eyes scanned the contents, Adrian watched his expression transform. The warm, grandfatherly demeanor that was so much a part of Dumbledore's public persona completely disappeared entirely.
"Your guess is correct, Adrian," Dumbledore said coldly. "The Ministry has indeed reached out to us."
The tone and the expression were enough to tell Adrian that this was decidedly not good news. He could practically feel the temperature in the corridor drop several degrees.
"Let me guess," Adrian said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Minister Fudge is demanding that the Dementors be allowed to enter the castle to conduct their own search."
"The Dementors will not set foot inside these walls," Dumbledore immediately shook his head, his voice unusually firm. "Not while my students remain here. I will not allow those creatures to terrorize children in the name of security."
Adrian shrugged, though he felt far from casual about the situation. "I'm afraid Cornelius Fudge isn't in a mood to listen to reason right now. A mass murderer breaking into Hogwarts on his watch? He'll be desperate to show decisive action, regardless of the consequences."
Dumbledore gently stroked Fawkes with one finger and the phoenix let out a soft trill.
"Adrian," Dumbledore said, his voice returning to its usual warmth. "I need you to do something for me. I know you can deal with the Dementors, and I know you're capable of... decisive action when necessary."
Adrian nodded, understanding immediately. "You want me to stop them if they try to harm the students."
"If they attempt to enter this castle, if they pose any threat to the children in my care, I want you to use whatever means necessary to protect them. Don't hold back."
"Of course, no problem."
Adrian nodded.
'Don't hold back...'
In fact, he also wanted to know what the reaction of those Dementors would be when facing his full-powered Tree of Wisdom Patronus.
After giving these instructions, Dumbledore immediately left toward what Adrian assumed would be a very unpleasant confrontation with the Ministry's pet monsters.
The next day, discussions about Black continued to ferment. Although classes had been officially suspended, the professors made no attempt to restrict student movement within the castle walls. They understood that normalcy, even artificial normalcy, was important for assurance.
Yet despite this freedom, the atmosphere throughout Hogwarts remained thick with tension. Students moved through the corridors in tight groups, their eyes darting nervously at every shadow, every unexpected sound. The usual casual interactions between houses had been replaced by a kind of desperate friendship born of common fear.
Even if they died, at least they'd have company...
Well, that wasn't exactly auspicious.
In any case, the students remained in a tense atmosphere.
If pressed to identify which student was most affected by the previous night's events, the answer would undoubtedly be Harry Potter.
The reasoning was simple, if flawed: most of the school's population, from professors to students, had concluded that Sirius Black's target was Harry. The logic seemed sound—Black had been a follower of Voldemort, Harry had been responsible for Voldemort's downfall, therefore Black sought revenge against the boy who had thwarted his master.
Harry, however, had developed his own theory about the night's events, one that differed significantly from the popular consensus. As he walked through corridors, he was constantly analyzing Black's actions through a different perspective.
Black had been a student at Hogwarts himself, which meant he understood the castle's routines and traditions. He would have known that Halloween night would bring all the students together in the Great Hall for the annual feast.
If Harry had truly been his target, why choose the most difficult possible moment to strike? Why attempt to break into the Gryffindor common room when Harry would be nowhere near it?
So, Black's target was most likely not him.
The logic seemed flawed to Harry, but his attempts to explain this reasoning to others fell on deaf ears. Adults, he had learned, often preferred simple explanations to complex ones, especially when those simple explanations justified their protective instincts.
The result was a level of surveillance that bordered on suffocating. Wherever Harry went, he was shadowed by goodhearted professors and concerned students. Professor McGonagall would appear around corners with suspicious frequency.
Even normally absent-minded Professor Trelawney had taken to making ominous statements about his immediate future whenever their paths crossed.
The Quidditch pitch, traditionally Harry's relief from the pressures of his fame, had become yet another venue for protective oversight. Madam Hooch now made it her business to watch every practice session from the sidelines, her face would be filled with worry as she tracked Harry's movements through the air.
Even his teammates seemed affected by the heightened security. Their plays felt more cautious, their passes more conservative. The joy that had always defined Quidditch for Harry was being slowly strangled by the constant vigilance.
Adding to the surreal nature of his situation was the rumor that he owned a Firebolt—the fastest racing broom in the wizarding world. The gossip had somehow spread throughout the school, though most dismissed it as fantasy.
After all, what student could possibly afford such an expensive item?
One afternoon, Adrian and Hagrid walked side by side toward the Forbidden Forest, with Ray circling overhead on patrol.
"Ray seems to have spotted a figure resembling Sirius in the Forbidden Forest," Adrian said to Hagrid as they walked. "This morning."
"I don't doubt it," Hagrid sighed. "We all know the most likely place for Black to be hiding is the Forbidden Forest. But you know, finding a person in that place isn't easy. We've searched many times already, haven't we?"
"I know that, Hagrid," Adrian smiled. "That's why Ray will be watching from above. And more fortunately, we'll have a helper..."
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