Countless bats flapped their wings on the Great Hall's walls and ceiling, while low-lying dark clouds swirled around the dining tables, making the candles in the pumpkin bellies flicker. Translucent ghosts wandered back and forth among the long tables; on this, their holiday, they didn't need to consider whether the young wizards would be afraid. Besides, compared to the students' costumes, the ghosts themselves didn't look nearly as terrifying.
The young wizards were no longer wearing robes representing their house colors but had instead created a variety of strange and bizarre outfits. Due to the existence of magic, these costumes were more frightening and realistic than anything Muggles could create for Halloween. Looking at the horde of monsters and ghouls around him, Harry felt a faint sense of dread. Fortunately, the professors at the faculty table were dressed relatively normally; none of them were wearing strange costumes to challenge his nerves.
Only one empty seat among them was a bit jarring. Professor Quirrell usually wouldn't miss such a feast, Harry thought to himself. But he didn't pay too much attention to it. After all, he wasn't particularly fond of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and a large part of that was because of that professor.
"I think what you said was too harsh. You should apologize," Harry said, poking the sausage on his plate with a fork and looking at Ron. "Parvati said she cried in the washroom all afternoon."
"…" Ron was silent for a moment, then put down the chicken leg in his hand and said uncomfortably, "Why should I apologize? She provoked me first!" Then he lowered his head, a torrent of words spilling from his mouth, as if he had been holding them in for a long time. "She's always so bossy and meddlesome, always acting superior. Sometimes I even think she's more nagging than my mother! Hmph, Mum would definitely love her; she adores children like that. Percy is like that too, and Charlie is pretty much the same…"
As he spoke, Ron's voice grew softer and softer until it was completely inaudible. Watching Ron muttering quietly with his head down, Harry shook his head. After knowing him for over two months, he understood exactly what kind of person Ron was. He wasn't a bad person, but having too many excellent older brothers meant that no matter what he did, he would be compared. After being compared so much, he would always feel that his mother favored his older brothers, who were better at studying and more capable. This was a manifestation of a lack of affection; Harry had heard about it in Professor Kahn's class. According to Professor Kahn, Snape was also like that, and compared to that professor's demeanor, Ron's rebellion and complaints were purely minor.
But Harry still couldn't quite understand this mentality. Because… even if love was divided into so many portions, he had never received any.
No longer trying to persuade him, Harry focused on dealing with the potatoes on his plate. The feast continued, with translucent ghosts flying back and forth across the ceiling, accentuating the Halloween atmosphere alongside the strangely dressed young wizards below. It was a long while later that Harry heard Ron's somewhat dejected voice beside him again.
"Did Parvati say which washroom she was in?"
At the faculty table in the Great Hall, a Niffler was curiously staring at a bright red cake with a few chilies on top. Although Alice, the Diricawl beside it, was constantly preventing it from trying this new thing, it still, as if by some ghostly impulse, reached out, broke off a piece of the cake, and put it into its mouth. A moment later, Nana's fur instantly turned red. It opened its mouth to spout a flame towards the sky, then swayed and collapsed onto the table.
Evans, who witnessed all of this, reluctantly paused his discussion with Professor Flitwick, picked up Nana by the scruff of his neck, and threw several ice cubes into his mouth. Only then did the fur on his face return to normal.
Placing Nana back on the table, Evans looked again at Professor Flitwick, who was standing beside him. "If we consider the magical flow of Apparition, would it be a little simpler?" He was discussing with Professor Flitwick how to transform the Diricawl's flash into magic. He had been researching this topic for a long time but had always been stuck on the final magical flow. And if the magical flow couldn't be resolved, this magic could never be used by other wizards.
"…I don't think so." After a moment of thought, Professor Flitwick shook his head. "The key to Apparition is that the wizard believes he can definitely reach the target location; it's a magic completed according to one's mind. This is also why Apparition is so prone to danger. But I think the Diricawl's talent leans more towards spatial transfer. After all, I've never heard of a Diricawl having an accident when using its talent, and you yourself said that even at the very beginning, you didn't need any firm conviction to cast the flash."
Professor Flitwick thought for a while longer and offered a suggestion. "Why don't you look for ideas from the magic of creating Portkeys?"
"Portkeys?" Lowering his head in thought for a moment, Evans nodded. Indeed, compared to Apparition, the Portkey's teleportation was more consistent with his impression of the flash. But if he wanted to research it, he would certainly need to experience Portkeys many times, and as is well known, the experience of Portkey travel is not very pleasant. Evans's face fell. If he could, he really didn't want to research something with such a terrible user experience. But there was no other way; he had to design a reliable magical circuit for the flash to turn it into true magic.
"I heard you're leaving school these few days?" Seeing that Evans had accepted his suggestion, Professor Flitwick changed the subject.
"Yes, I plan to go to the western side of the Forbidden Forest to look for Lethifolds."
"Lethifolds?" Professor Flitwick looked at Evans in surprise. "Such things exist in Britain?" Although he didn't know much about that mysterious creature, he was aware that incidents involving Lethifolds had rarely occurred in Britain.
"I got some information and plan to go check it out. Even if I don't find them, exploring the western side of the Forbidden Forest won't be a loss," Evans shrugged. To be honest, if it weren't for what Firenze had said, he would definitely wait for holidays like winter break to try his luck in some small tropical countries. But the words of centaurs, apart from mockery and insults, always contained deeper meaning. He had experienced this many times, and there would definitely be no mistakes. So, why not give it a try? There's nothing to lose.
After hearing Evans's words, Professor Flitwick said nothing more but raised the goblet in front of him in a toast. "I wish you a smooth journey."
"Thank you, Professor…"
Bang!
Just as Evans raised his goblet to respond, a loud bang interrupted his movement. Turning his head, he saw that the Great Hall's door had been knocked open. Professor Quirrell, with his turban askew, staggered in and shouted loudly to Dumbledore at the head table, "Troll in the dungeons! I—I thought you ought to know about this…"
Having said that, his legs gave out, and he collapsed sideways onto the floor.
(End of Chapter)
***
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