Chapter 190 – Halloween Dinner
Phineas's voice rang with strength and resolve. That unwavering determination shook Sirius from his sorrow. He straightened up and nodded firmly.
"I know the dark lord isn't truly dead. He'll return—and I'll be ready when he does. I'll be waiting to take my revenge."
"That day isn't far off," Phineas said quietly, his eyes distant and contemplative, as though he were gazing into the future.
In the days that followed, Phineas and Sirius worked together to plan for the family's future and divide their responsibilities. In short, Sirius would assume the family title and represent the family on the consular meetings of the Pureblood council, ensuring that other families could not interfere or pressure them.
Phineas, meanwhile, would operate from the shadows, guiding broader strategy and supporting Sirius when needed. Sirius's release from Azkaban had removed many barriers, allowing them to act more freely.
A month passed. Sirius was now free, and Phineas had returned to Hogwarts. Before long, Halloween had arrived.
As was tradition, Hogwarts did not skip its Halloween celebrations.
This year, however, Hermione had been sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor. Her interactions with Harry and Ron were far less frequent. Phineas couldn't help wondering if the infamous wand-in-the-nose scene from the "original" version of events would still occur.
Phineas didn't pay particular attention to Harry—or the broader happenings around him. Harry's arrival at Hogwarts marked the beginning of the quiet war between Dumbledore and voldemort. And Phineas had no intention of becoming entangled in the games of two old wizards.
After all, being noticed by the dark lord often ended in tragedy. Being noticed by Dumbledore wasn't much better—it just meant becoming a tool to help Harry grow.
The Halloween feast proceeded as usual. Bats flew overhead, the enchanted ceiling mirrored a starry sky, and magical decorations filled the Great Hall. The students, even the normally restrained Slytherins, dug into the food with enthusiasm. Laughter echoed among the tables, mingling with the music of a ghostly choir.
Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Professor Quirrell stumbled inside, scarf askew, his face pale and stricken with fear. He gasped out a warning.
"Troll—in the dungeon! Thought you should know—"
With that, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Chaos erupted. Students screamed and stood in panic. Dumbledore was forced to cast a spell to restore order.
"Prefects! Lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately!"
Draco, standing beside Phineas, smirked and pointed at Quirrell.
"Ha! Phineas, look. That guy's a clown."
Phineas shook his head.
"You still don't know who the real clown is, Draco. Never underestimate anyone, no matter how pathetic they might seem."
Draco blinked, surprised by the serious tone. "You're not saying... he was faking it? That he's actually strong? He really fainted—he looked terrified."
Phineas gave him a look.
"Don't forget his title—Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. If your class this term teaches you anything, it'll probably include how to handle trolls."
He paused, meeting Draco's eyes.
"Also, before he came to Hogwarts, Quirrell spent years traveling the magical world. Vampires, werewolves... Do you think a troll would scare someone like that?"
Draco was stunned. "Then... what's his goal?"
"Who knows? But now's not the time. Come on—we're leaving."
Phineas had no interest in chasing down the troll. It wasn't difficult to defeat, not for skilled witches or wizards. But for students like Harry and Ron, with barely a few spells under their belts, it was a deadly risk.
In the original version of events, Hermione hadn't been in danger until Harry and Ron's poor decisions led to the troll being trapped in a bathroom with her. They had good intentions, but terrible judgment.
Fortunately, things were different now. When Phineas left the Great Hall earlier, he had seen Hermione chatting happily with two Ravenclaw girls. She hadn't gone off on her own.
In truth, Ravenclaw suited Hermione far better. Her passion for learning was celebrated there—not viewed as strange. Her personality and habits fit in naturally.
Just then, Draco tugged on Phineas's sleeve, glancing around nervously.
"What is it?"
Draco subtly pointed toward another part of the Hall. Phineas followed his finger and saw Harry and Ron slipping away from the Gryffindor group, heading toward the dungeons.
"What are they doing?" Draco asked, frowning.
Phineas smiled slightly. "Probably off to face the troll."
Draco scoffed. Then he paused—his eyes lit up as a mischievous thought formed.
He looked at Phineas, eyes gleaming. Phineas sighed.
"If you want to follow them, go ahead. But don't drag me into it. The castle is huge, trolls are massive, and they stink. Dumbledore and the staff will find them quickly enough. But if you're caught, don't expect leniency—especially not just for being a Slytherin."
Draco nodded and slipped away while the prefects were distracted, determined to catch Harry and Ron in the act.
Phineas, meanwhile, didn't concern himself with what happened next.
The next morning, he noticed the hourglasses showing House points in the entrance hall. Gryffindor had lost ten points. Slytherin, five.
He glanced sideways at Draco, who sat sulking beside him.
"So," Phineas said with a smirk, "you hurt the enemy by a thousand and lost eight hundred yourself?"