Harry couldn't remember how he got back to the dormitory; he only recalled that Ron seemed to have a brief quarrel with Hermione afterward.
He hugged his knees, sitting by the dormitory window, staring blankly outside.
The moonlight poured in like water, flowing through the window into the dorm, stretching Harry's shadow long across the floor.
"Harry?" Ron noticed his best friend acting strangely. Since they'd returned to the dorm, he'd been like this—no matter how much Ron called him, Harry only answered with a distracted "Mm," which was worrying.
Harry finally snapped out of it. He looked at Ron, offering an embarrassed smile.
"Want to play Wizard Chess together, mate?" Ron held the chessboard. "I know you're feeling down, but Hermione didn't mean it that way—she was just interested in that person with the same name as you and looked it up in the books. She wasn't talking about You-Know-Who on purpose, and how could she have known that thing was right next to it…"
"I know, Ron." Harry nodded. His thoughts were seriously scrambled right now.
"How about we visit Hagrid after class tomorrow?" Ron asked, concerned.
"Let's go in a few days," Harry said. "Tomorrow is Halloween Eve. There's a feast in the Great Hall at night."
"Yeah, I heard the limited-edition pumpkin pies for Halloween are really delicious," Ron said to Harry. "If you like them, I'll give you mine."
Harry spaced out for a moment.
Back then, in this very room, Gareth had comforted him the same way, when he was homesick.
Now, hearing news of his old friend, he realized that Gareth was long gone.
One hundred years felt like a blink for him, but for his old friend, it was a lifetime.
"Thank you, Ron." Harry forced himself to perk up. "It's getting late, we should get some sleep. There's a Spell Class tomorrow morning."
"Yeah." Ron nodded vigorously, though worry still knotted his brow. He was still concerned about Harry.
Early the next morning, all the Gryffindor first-years could be seen sitting happily at the long table, enjoying their breakfast.
The actual day of Halloween fell on Friday—that was tomorrow. And on Friday mornings, they had a double period of Magic Potion with Professor Snape.
A holiday meant no classes. So if Friday was a day off, that meant no Magic Potion Class.
You know! No Potions with Professor Snape! For Gryffindor! Do you know what that means!
It was a bit of a shame that the Flying Class in the afternoon was also canceled because of the holiday.
This was one of the rare chances for young wizards to get their hands on a Flying Broom.
Even better, Professor Flitwick announced that, after all this time practicing, he thought it was time for the young wizards to learn how to make objects fly.
"All right, don't forget the subtle wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick stood, as always, atop his pile of books, shrilling, "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick—and pronouncing the Spell right is absolutely important—don't forget Wizard Baruffio! He said 'f' as 's' and ended up lying on the floor with a buffalo standing on his chest."
Harry always suspected the wrist movement was just to help wizards focus on which spell they wanted to cast. With real Wandless Magic, you didn't need any hand movement: whatever you wanted in your mind was what got thrown out.
"Winguardium Leviosa!" Harry held his magic wand, focusing on the desk in front of him, and it floated gently up into the air.
"Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic, Mr. Potter!" Professor Flitwick squealed and happily hopped on his pile of books.
But his foot didn't quite land right, so he slipped backward.
"Leviosa!" In a panic, Harry pointed his magic wand at the falling Professor Flitwick and cast a Floating Spell.
[Winguardium Leviosa] and [Leviosa] may look like just a different suffix, but in reality, they're worlds apart. The latter doesn't abbreviate the former. [Leviosa] simply makes an object float, whereas [Winguardium Leviosa] lets you control its direction as it floats.
Professor Flitwick, suspended in midair, began paddling his arms as if swimming, and called joyfully to Harry, "Ten points to Gryffindor! Excellent spellwork! Harry, you must have read ahead in the textbook, right?"
"Yes, Professor." Harry controlled the Magic Spell and gently let Professor Flitwick down.
The whole class only saw Hermione successfully levitate her feather—and half a Ron afterward.
With Hermione's guidance, Ron managed to get his feather flying too, but when Seamus accidentally made his feather explode, Ron got distracted and the feather fell back onto the desk.
"You really ought to study Thunder Explosion properly—or any other explosive spells."
On the way back to the Great Hall, Hermione said to Seamus, "I think your talents would show greater results in that area."
"Are you mocking me, Granger?" Seamus asked indignantly, feeling insulted.
"Whoa, mate." Ron quickly threw an arm around Seamus's shoulder. "No need, no need."
"Sorry, Seamus." Hermione quickly apologized. "I didn't mean anything by it."
Since Hermione had apologized, Seamus had nothing more to say.
After Herbology was over in the afternoon, the long-awaited Halloween feast began.
Hundreds of magically conjured bats fluttered on the walls and ceiling. Even more crammed together, like low-floating clouds, whirled above the tables; passing the giant pumpkins, the candles in their bellies flickered wildly.
"Where's Harry?" Ron suddenly noticed his best mate was missing.
"Harry said he was going to the bathroom just now," Seamus replied.
Ron couldn't help but worry—was Harry still feeling down? Should he go comfort him?
Merlin, he really needed company now.
But then his plate was rapidly piled high with delicious food, and his attention was instantly diverted.
I'll grab a chicken leg first and then go, he thought.
But the doors suddenly burst open—Professor Quirrell dashed into the hall, his huge scarf askew, his face pale with terror.
The students' attention was snatched away, all eyes wondering what could possibly make the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor so panicked.
"Giant! Giant in the dungeons!" Quirrell ran up to Dumbledore and shouted, "I thought—you should know about this…"
With that, he pitched forward and collapsed onto the floor.
The Great Hall was struck by a moment of silence. Then, led by someone, the students erupted into screams.
A Giant—Merlin…
Dumbledore pointed his magic wand at his throat and called out, "Silence—"
Perhaps it was the headmaster's reputation that calmed the students; as soon as they heard Dumbledore, everyone quieted immediately.
"Class Prefects!" Dumbledore's deep, resonant voice rang out: "Take your housemates back to your dormitories immediately!"
"Let's go, follow me." The Class Prefects organized their classmates to line up and return to the dorms. "Don't be afraid of any Giant—the professors will handle it."
Hermione was just about to follow Percy, when Ron grabbed her by the sleeve.
"Ron? What are you doing?" Hermione asked.
"Harry!" Ron murmured. "Harry's still in the first-floor bathroom! We have to warn him! He's in danger!"