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Thursday, October 31st, 1991 - Morning
7:15 AM - Ravenclaw Tower
Darius woke to the sound of ghostly singing.
It took him a moment to place the melody, some ancient Scottish tune about spirits and moonlight, being performed by what sounded like multiple spectral voices in harmony. He sat up, noting that his roommates were already stirring, various states of consciousness represented across the five beds.
"Is that the Fat Friar?" Terry mumbled, face-down in his pillow.
"And the Bloody Baron," Stephen supplied, already dressed and adjusting his tie. "And I think that's Nearly Headless Nick doing the baritone part. They do this every Halloween. Ghost tradition."
The song concluded with a final ethereal note, followed by a chorus of ghostly voices echoing through the tower: "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"
"I love magic," Michael said with genuine appreciation, "but seven AM caroling is testing that love."
Darius smiled despite the tension coiling in his stomach. Today. Everything happened today. But for now, for these morning hours, the castle was simply celebrating a beloved holiday.
[Partner's stress indicators elevated but manageable. Day will be long. Recommend conserving mental energy for evening events.]
The common room was already transformed when they descended. Someone, probably the house elves, had decorated overnight. Floating jack-o'-lanterns drifted lazily near the ceiling, their carved faces flickering with actual candlelight. Orange and black banners hung from the walls, enchanted to ripple despite the absence of wind. A massive bowl of candy sat on the central table, surrounded by eager first-years.
The portraits had changed too. Professor Rowena Ravenclaw's painting now showed her in elegant black robes with subtle silver spider-web patterns. A miniature carved pumpkin floated beside her reading shoulder. The other portraits throughout the tower had similarly adapted. Medieval wizards now wore pointed witch hats, ladies held trick-or-treat baskets, and one portrait of a jester had transformed his usual props into Halloween-themed variants.
"Happy Halloween, young Ravenclaws!" Rowena's portrait called out cheerfully. "May your feast be filling and your essays be finished!"
"She knows us too well," Emma said, appearing at Darius's elbow. She was already dressed, her hair tied back with an orange ribbon. "Ready for the madness?"
"Is anyone ever ready for Halloween at Hogwarts?" Darius replied.
7:45 AM - Great Hall
If Ravenclaw Tower had been decorated, the Great Hall had been transformed.
Thousands of live bats fluttered around the enchanted ceiling, which showed a perfect twilight sky despite the early hour. Deep purple with orange-tinted clouds and a massive harvest moon dominating the view. Jack-o'-lanterns floated in clusters at various heights, creating pools of warm light. Streamers of orange and black crisscrossed the hall, animated to dance and wave.
The house tables were set with special Halloween-themed dishware. Plates with jack-o'-lantern faces, goblets shaped like miniature cauldrons, cutlery with handles carved to look like bones. Even the food looked festive. Pumpkin-shaped pastries, orange-tinted juice, bacon arranged in little Halloween scenes.
But it was the ghosts who truly made the morning special. Nearly Headless Nick was at the Gryffindor table, his head wobbling precariously as he gestured enthusiastically about something. The Grey Lady drifted between Ravenclaw students, offering Halloween wishes. The Fat Friar was at Hufflepuff, his transparent form shimmering with what looked like genuine joy. Even the Bloody Baron had left the dungeons, though he lurked near the Slytherin table with his usual silent menace. His chains were now decorated with tiny silver pumpkins.
"This is incredible!" Emma breathed, taking in the decorations. "They've really outdone themselves this year."
[Environmental analysis: Decorative magic throughout hall functioning at significantly elevated levels. Estimate 40+ sustained enchantments operating simultaneously. Dumbledore or house elf coordination impressive from technical standpoint.]
The Ravenclaw table buzzed with excitement as they sat down. Conversations about the upcoming feast, speculation about special desserts, debates about which Halloween tradition was best. Normal student excitement for a beloved holiday.
Darius loaded his plate with breakfast, trying to eat normally despite his appetite being strangled by anticipation. His eyes tracked the High Table almost unconsciously.
Dumbledore sat in his usual central position, wearing robes of deep purple with animated silver stars that occasionally formed constellation patterns. He was speaking with Professor McGonagall, who looked marginally less stern than usual, probably the holiday effect. Flitwick was practically bouncing in his seat with enthusiasm. Sprout beamed at everyone. Even Snape looked fractionally less murderous than his baseline, though that might have been wishful thinking.
Professor Quirrell sat between Professor Sinistra and Professor Vector. Hands wrapped around a teacup, that characteristic nervous flutter present in every movement. He glanced up occasionally, eyes sweeping the student tables with apparent anxiety.
"You okay?" Sarah asked quietly from across the table. "You look pale."
"Just tired," Darius said automatically. "Didn't sleep great."
"Halloween excitement, right?" Emma suggested. "I was up half the night thinking about desserts. Do you think they'll have those chocolate cauldron cakes again? The ones from last year that were actually bubbling?"
The conversation shifted to food, and Darius let it wash over him. He ate and tried not to think about trolls and unicorns and dark lords wearing professors' faces.
8:15 AM - Entrance Hall
The chaos began, as it often did, with the Weasley twins.
Fred and George had set up what could only be described as an impromptu marketplace in one of the entrance hall's alcoves. A banner hung above them reading "WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEEZES - HALLOWEEN SPECIAL!" surrounded by animated pumpkins and bats.
Their table was covered in various items: The Whizz-Bang Snap Pellets for changing hair color, Hiccough Sweets that were exactly what they sounded like, Nose-Biting Teacups that were mostly harmless, classic Dungbombs, unauthorized but popular Fanged Frisbees, and something called "Screaming Yo-Yos" that Darius didn't want to examine too closely.
And they were doing a successful business.
Students crowded around, Galleons changing hands, twins describing effects with carnival barker enthusiasm. Even some older students were making purchases, probably planning elaborate pranks for the evening.
"Step right up!" Fred called out. "Halloween specials! Pranks for every occasion!"
"Impress your friends! Horrify your enemies!" George added. "Or vice versa. We're not here to judge!"
"How are they allowed to do this?" Michael wondered as they passed.
"Because it's Halloween," Stephen said pragmatically. "And because technically they're not breaking any specific rule if they're not actually setting off the pranks in the castle."
"That's... an interesting interpretation of school policy."
"That's being a Weasley."
They were heading toward Charms when commotion erupted behind them. Students began laughing, pointing, and generally creating the kind of disturbance that meant something entertaining had happened.
Darius turned with everyone else to see the source.
Draco Malfoy stood in the entrance hall's center. His normally platinum-blond hair had transformed into a violent shade of greenish-purple. Not a subtle tint. A vivid, impossible-to-miss color that clashed horrifically with his pale complexion and expensive robes.
The effect was, objectively, hilarious.
"WHAT..." Malfoy's hands flew to his head, encountering the transformed hair with obvious horror. "What is this?! What did you do?!"
"We didn't do anything!" Crabbe protested.
"It wasn't us!" Goyle added.
"Then who..." Malfoy's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for culprits, landing on various suspects with suspicion. Students were openly laughing now, not even trying to hide their amusement.
From across the entrance hall, near the marble staircase, Darius spotted Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Both were watching Malfoy's predicament with poorly concealed delight. Harry's hand was clamped over his mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Ron wasn't even trying to hide it, grinning so widely his face might split.
[Analysis: Hair coloration consistent with Weasley twins' Whizz-Bang Snap Pellet effects. Duration: 24 hours as advertised. Application method likely covert, possibly applied to Malfoy's pillowcase or clothing. Subject Potter and Weasley's reactions suggest direct involvement in prank execution.]
"This is gold," Terry whispered. "Pure gold."
"Someone's going to be in so much trouble," Sarah observed, though she was smiling.
"Worth it," Emma declared. "Absolutely worth it."
Malfoy was now shouting about house points and detentions and his father, but the crowd's laughter drowned out most of his threats. Even some Slytherins were struggling not to laugh, though they tried to hide it better than the other houses.
A professor would intervene eventually, probably McGonagall, but for now, the entrance hall was enjoying the spectacle of a supremely arrogant Slytherin brought low by a simple color-changing prank.
Two Galleons well spent, Darius thought, remembering the twins' sale to Harry and Ron days ago.
9:00 AM - Charms Classroom (First Years)
Professor Flitwick was in exceptional spirits, practically vibrating with Halloween excitement as he addressed the room of first-years.
"Happy Halloween, everyone!" he squeaked cheerfully. "Today, we'll be learning the Softening Charm. Spongify! Very useful for cushioning falls, making surfaces comfortable, and for various practical applications you'll discover as we go!"
The demonstration was simple and effective. An egg dropped onto a spell-softened cushion bounced harmlessly. The second egg, unprotected, met its end in a distinctly unpleasant splatter.
A few students winced. Ron Weasley grimaced.
"Now," Flitwick continued, unfazed, "the wand movement is a gentle downward push, like pressing into soft dough! And the incantation must be clear. Pair up and practice on the wooden blocks at your tables!"
Harry partnered with Ron. Hermione, having already raised her hand twice during the explanation, watched them closely.
"Spongify!" Ron said, jabbing his wand downward.
Nothing happened.
Hermione sighed audibly. "You're flicking at the end. Professor Flitwick said smooth pressure, not stabbing."
"I did do it smooth," Ron muttered, trying again with identical results.
"Honestly," Hermione said, reaching over, "you're saying it wrong too. It's Spon-gi-fy, not Spon-gi-fah..."
"Oi, stop it," Ron snapped. "I can figure it out myself."
Harry tried his own spell. His block softened slightly. Uneven, but visible.
Hermione brightened. "See? That's closer! You just need to angle your wand like this..."
"Miss Granger," Flitwick said gently as he passed their table, "do let Mr. Potter experiment. Learning through error is part of the process!"
Hermione flushed and withdrew her wand, lips pressed thin.
The class continued, successes and failures scattered evenly through the room. Hermione managed a perfectly softened block on her third try. Ron's finally worked on his fifth, just in time for him to glare triumphantly at the wood.
10:45 AM - Break Between Classes
The corridor outside Charms was crowded with students transitioning between lessons. Halloween excitement had only intensified as the day progressed. More decorations appearing, more ghosts interacting with students, even the portraits getting more animated with holiday spirit.
Darius was heading toward the library. His next period was a free study block. That's when he spotted them ahead.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The canonical trio, though from their body language, the "trio" part was questionable.
They were walking together but with clear tension. Hermione walked slightly ahead, her posture rigid, clearly annoyed. Ron was saying something with gestures. Harry followed behind both, looking uncomfortable.
[Subject Hermione Granger displays elevated stress indicators. Subject Weasley appears confrontational. Subject Potter caught between conflicting social obligations. Predicted social conflict probability: High.]
The library was in the same direction. Darius slowed his pace, not wanting to overtake them or seem to be following, but unable to avoid being in proximity given their shared destination.
"Just saying, you don't have to correct everyone all the time," Ron was saying, voice carrying despite his obvious attempt at discretion. "It's getting really old, Hermione."
"I was helping," Hermione said stiffly, not turning around. "Professor Flitwick specifically said the wand movement was wrong..."
"He was talking to Seamus, not you. You're not the professor."
"Well someone needs to make sure people learn things properly..."
"That's literally what the professors are for!"
They had reached the library entrance. Hermione stopped, turned, and Darius could see her face was flushed. Anger or embarrassment or both.
"Fine," she said, voice tight. "Next time you're about to blow up your cauldron or set yourself on fire, I'll just keep quiet and watch. See how much you appreciate my advice then."
She turned and stalked into the library, robes swishing with indignation.
Ron stared after her. "Nightmare, honestly. No wonder she hasn't got any friends."
The corridor felt suddenly too quiet.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Ron, that's a bit..."
"What? It's true! She's a nightmare!"
Darius walked past them toward the library entrance, carefully maintaining the appearance of someone who hadn't been listening to their conversation. But he'd heard every word.
And he'd seen Hermione's face just before she disappeared into the library.
She'd heard it too.
11:00 AM - Library
Madam Pince's domain was quieter than the rest of the castle, insulated from Halloween's chaos by thick walls and the librarian's formidable presence. Students studied in hushed concentration, occasionally disturbed only by the scratch of quills on parchment.
Darius found a table in a corner with good sight lines. Old habits from surveillance work. He spread out his Transfiguration notes. But his mind wasn't on Cross-Species Switches theory.
He'd seen Hermione enter the library minutes before him. She'd gone straight to a table in the far corner, pulled out books with angry movements, and then just... sat there. Staring at the pages without really reading.
[Subject Hermione Granger emotional state analysis: Significant distress. Social rejection by peers particularly painful for individuals with limited friend networks. Subject likely processing combination of anger, hurt, and social isolation.]
In canon, this is the day she ends up in the bathroom, Darius thought. Crying during the feast. That's why she's there when the troll comes. Because Ron said she was a nightmare and she went to cry and couldn't make it to the feast in time.
[Accurate summary of canonical timeline. Query: Does Partner intend intervention?]
I can't. If I change too much, if Hermione doesn't go to that bathroom, if she's not there when the troll comes, if Harry and Ron don't save her, the whole friendship dynamic changes. The trio might not form. Butterfly effects cascade.
[Acknowledged. Though Partner should note: Allowing Subject Granger to experience trauma for sake of timeline preservation represents ethically complex position.]
I know. Darius stared at his Transfiguration notes without seeing them. But I can't save everyone from everything. I can barely manage saving people from actual death tonight. Social dynamics... that's beyond my mission parameters.
[Understood. Though definition of "mission parameters" remains flexible given Partner's autonomous decision-making capacity.]
He tried to focus on his studies. Tried to ignore Hermione's presence across the library. Tried to ignore the knowledge of what was coming. Tried to ignore the weight of devices in his pockets and the countdown in his head.
Twelve hours until the feast.
Twelve hours until everything went wrong.
12:30 PM - Great Hall (Lunch)
The Halloween atmosphere had intensified by lunch. The decorations seemed more animated, the ghosts more energetic, the overall excitement palpable. Students filled the house tables with usual chaos, but louder, more energetic, fueled by holiday anticipation and sugar from all the candy being passed around.
Darius sat with his usual group. Emma, Terry, Stephen, Michael, Sarah. He tried to participate in conversation about the afternoon's classes (Double Potions, unfortunately) and speculation about the feast.
"I heard they're bringing in live bats for the entertainment," Terry said through a mouthful of sandwich.
"Those are probably the bats that are already here," Stephen corrected. "Permanently animated by the castle's enchantments."
"Still counts as entertainment!"
At the High Table, Dumbledore stood, and the hall gradually quieted. The Headmaster's eyes twinkled as he surveyed the students, clearly pleased by the holiday energy.
"Good afternoon!" His voice carried easily through the hall without any apparent amplification. "I hope you're all enjoying our Halloween preparations. The house elves have truly outdone themselves this year."
Applause from the students. The house elves would never appear to receive it, but hopefully they could hear from the kitchens.
"Tonight's feast promises to be exceptional," Dumbledore continued. "In addition to our usual excellent cuisine, we'll have several special presentations. The ghosts have prepared a historical reenactment of the founding of Hogwarts, with some theatrical liberty, I'm told. Professor Flitwick has coordinated a display of enchanted pumpkins that will perform a rather impressive aerial ballet. And for dessert, well, I'm told it's a surprise, but I've been reliably informed it involves chocolate that defies gravity."
Excited murmurs rippled through the hall. Students grinned at each other, anticipation building.
"The feast will begin at six-thirty this evening," Dumbledore said. "Please ensure you arrive promptly, as the presentations are scheduled to begin at seven. Until then, enjoy your afternoon classes!"
He sat back down with a final twinkling smile, and conversation exploded across all four tables.
"Defies gravity!" Emma practically bounced. "What does that even mean for a dessert?"
"Hopefully it means delicious," Terry said pragmatically.
"The aerial ballet sounds amazing," Sarah added. "Flitwick's been working on that for weeks, I heard. He's been testing animations in his office."
Darius glanced at the High Table again. Dumbledore was speaking with McGonagall, gesturing with enthusiasm. Flitwick was practically vibrating with excitement. Sprout beamed. Hagrid, visiting for lunch, looked delighted.
And Quirrell was smiling.
Not the nervous, uncertain expression he usually wore. A genuine smile. Small, controlled, but unmistakably satisfied.
[Subject Quirrell emotional state analysis: Anticipatory pleasure. Confident in planned outcome. No anxiety indicators present despite normally fearful persona. Assessment: Subject believes tonight's events will proceed successfully.]
Six-thirty, Darius thought. Feast begins at six-thirty. In canon, the troll was released during the feast. Quirrell's plan provides maximum chaos. Everyone in the Great Hall, trapped audience, professors occupied, perfect timing.
[Correction: In canon, Subject Quirrell announced troll presence at approximately 7:00 PM, during feast. Actual release time: Unknown but prior to announcement. Troll required time to traverse from presumed entry point, entrance hall or dungeons, to bathroom location.]
So the troll is probably already in the castle. Or will be soon. Quirrell's got it hidden somewhere, waiting for the right moment.
[Probability assessment: High. Partner should note increased vigilance required starting mid-afternoon. Subject Quirrell may conduct final preparations between afternoon classes and evening feast.]
Lunch concluded with usual chaos. Students filing out toward afternoon classes, still buzzing with Halloween excitement, completely unaware that by tonight, that excitement would turn to terror.