"Uh… a vampire?"
When Ron asked what he planned to dress up as, Harry thought for a moment and gave the most ordinary answer he could.
Then he suddenly remembered something.
"Wait, Ron. Didn't we promise Nearly Headless Nick we'd attend his five-hundredth Deathday party?"
"Ah!"
Ron let out a dramatic groan and collapsed onto the sofa.
"Everyone says tonight's feast is going to be amazing. If I tell Nick I'm sick and can't make it, do you think he'll believe me?"
Harry hesitated. To be honest, now that Halloween had actually arrived, he was starting to regret agreeing so quickly.
"I strongly advise against that."
Hermione walked over, having overheard the conversation.
"If you promise someone something, you keep it. And a ghost's Deathday party might be interesting too."
Harry and Ron exchanged a look.
Reluctantly, they were convinced.
They glanced at the clock. It was about time. The three of them stood and prepared to leave the Gryffindor common room.
But Harry stopped after only a few steps.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Ron asked, nudging him.
Harry was staring across the room.
"That's Seamus. He used to be with Dean all the time. Now he's alone."
"Oh, come on," Ron muttered. "You're still thinking about Thomas?"
Harry's expression tightened.
"I got him expelled."
"You didn't," Hermione said firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Stop blaming yourself."
"But why would Dean try to kill me?" Harry insisted. "He was a good person. I don't believe he would do something like that."
Ron scratched his head, unsure how to respond.
Hermione spoke instead.
"Harry, trust the Headmaster. If there's more to the story, he won't let Thomas remain wrongly accused forever."
"You're right," Harry said quickly. "The Headmaster will get to the bottom of it."
The name alone seemed to reassure him.
Soon enough, the lively atmosphere swept away his lingering worries.
After some delay, the three of them headed toward the dungeon classroom where the Deathday party was being held.
As they passed the Great Hall, Ron and Harry almost stopped in their tracks.
The decorations were spectacular.
Paper bats swooped across the enchanted ceiling, occasionally dropping sweets that tempted students to leap up and grab them.
Pumpkins carved into miniature houses and lanterns lined the walls, glowing warmly like something out of a fairy tale.
If Hogwarts actually punished teenage romance, those pumpkin houses would have been prime hunting grounds.
At the staff table, Dawn rested his chin on his hand, rolling a piece of candy around with his tongue.
For once, he allowed himself to relax, pushing troubling thoughts aside.
He had heard that a skeleton dance troupe would be performing later. He was genuinely curious.
The feast had not yet officially begun.
Several professors chatted idly.
Dawn recalled a question he had pondered earlier in class.
"Professor McGonagall," he said casually, "have the numbers of new students increased in recent years?"
"Not particularly small," she replied automatically, then gave him a curious look. "Why the interest, Professor Hickman?"
"I came across a book in the library mentioning wizard population statistics from several years ago," Dawn said lightly.
"It suggested there were more wizards then. Yet the current lower years seem slightly larger."
"Your observation isn't wrong," McGonagall said thoughtfully. "The overall wizarding population in Britain has indeed been declining."
As someone who had worked at Hogwarts for decades, she was intimately familiar with the Book of Admittance.
"The recent increase in first-years is due to events eleven years ago.
After You-Know-Who fell, many people married and had children that year. Those children are now reaching school age."
"Additionally, the decline of traditional apprenticeship systems has brought more young witches and wizards into formal education."
She paused, then frowned slightly.
"Even so, the total number of names appearing in the Book of Admittance each year continues to shrink."
Dawn nodded slowly.
He was about to ask more when a sudden explosion boomed through the hall.
A burst of fireworks erupted above the staff table.
The Headmaster appeared in flamboyant robes amid the sparks.
Dawn glanced over and easily recognized the mechanics behind the dramatic entrance. Phoenix Apparition combined with clever Transfiguration.
The Headmaster cleared his throat.
But before he could speak, Fred and George Weasley leapt to their feet at the Gryffindor table.
"Headmaster, surprise!"
Bang!
A brilliant firework shot upward, illuminating every face in the hall.
Students gasped in delight—
Until the dazzling sparks turned into thick black ink and rained down from above.
Shrieks filled the hall as students were splattered head to toe.
The twins doubled over laughing.
The front of the staff table was not spared.
Professor Sprout chuckled warmly and pulled out a reed-like plant, giving it a gentle shake. The ink around her was swiftly absorbed.
Professor McGonagall flicked her wand. The ink transformed into flapping bats that darted between pumpkin lanterns.
Professor Flitwick hopped onto his chair, conducting with delighted enthusiasm as the ink danced like tiny sprites.
Snape, however, gave a cold snort. With a sharp flick of his sleeve, the ink shot back like arrows, pelting the Weasley twins and sending them yelping.
As for the Headmaster, he did absolutely nothing.
He allowed himself to be drenched in black ink and winked mischievously at the twins.
The Great Hall erupted in cheers and laughter.
Dawn extended a single finger.
The ink splashing near him gathered obediently under a silent Levitation Charm.
With a soft flick, the dark mass twisted and reshaped itself into a vivid red rose, which he tucked neatly into the lapel of his robes.
"Professor Hickman, that was beautiful," Flitwick said, impressed.
It was the first time he had seen the new professor cast magic so openly.
Even if it had only been a Levitation Charm, the smooth, wandless execution spoke volumes.
McGonagall smiled and applauded lightly.
"And excellent Transfiguration as well."
___________
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