Chapter 37: The Halloween Feast

Anyone who heard Hermione's accusations would've been furious, but the one who reacted the most was, unsurprisingly, Ron—the target of her words. Me? Learn from Edward? What makes me worthy of being compared to him? Even though Ron privately admitted he couldn't measure up to Edward, there was no way he'd let Hermione win this argument. "Learn from Edward? Why don't you go learn from him, Miss Granger?" Ron shot back. "Let's get one thing straight—he's the top of our year, not you. And besides, you didn't exactly nail it either, so what gives you the right to lecture me?" Ron's words came out like rapid-fire cannon blasts. Hermione's face turned beet red, her eyes practically rolling to the heavens. "Let's stick to the point. Sure, I'm not as good as Edward, but that has nothing to do with whether you're pronouncing the spell correctly," she snapped. "It's LeviOsa, not LeviosA." "Oh, brilliant! If you're such an expert, why don't you make it float? Go on, show us!" Ron crossed his arms, leaning back with a smug look, ready to watch her fail. Hermione never backed down from a challenge like that. She had to prove herself—not just to Ron, but to show she was just as capable as Edward or Daphne. She was going to wipe that smirk off Ron's face. Clearing her throat, she gracefully raised her wand, focusing every ounce of her attention on the feather in front of her. "*Wingardium Leviosa!*" With a flick and a swish, the feather began to rise under her wand's guidance, floating higher and higher until it nearly brushed the classroom ceiling. Ron's eyes widened in disbelief. "Look at the mess you've caused. Some people just spark arguments by existing," Daphne said, watching the scene with amusement and not missing a chance to tease Edward. Edward felt utterly helpless, like he'd been caught in the crossfire for no reason. Being overly modest felt like hypocrisy, so he never hid his talents. But he hadn't expected to become the spark for a full-blown argument. Though Hermione was only the third student to succeed, Professor Flitwick still awarded Gryffindor points for fairness. Ron, however, wasn't remotely pleased. The freckles on his nose practically glowed red with frustration. He almost wished he had Seamus's knack for explosions so he could set fire to that feather floating in front of him. "LeviOsa, not LeviosA," he mimicked in a high-pitched tone as class ended, sidling up to Harry and drawing laughs from the other boys. "She's so annoying, honestly. No wonder she doesn't have any friends," Ron said, shaking his head without bothering to lower his voice. The next moment, someone slammed into his shoulder from behind. Hermione's bushy brown hair disappeared into the crowd. "Ron, that wasn't exactly friendly," Edward said, appearing out of nowhere and fixing Ron with a steady gaze, shaking his head. "You don't get it! If she was half as humble as you—ugh, fine, I'll figure out a way to apologize," Ron grumbled, then quickly averted his eyes, dragging Harry away. "Are you coming to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast tonight, Edward?" Daphne asked, walking over with her books. She usually avoided showing up when Edward was talking with the Gryffindors—she found the "little lions" far too noisy. "Nah, there's an empty classroom by the second-floor girls' bathroom. I'm going to study there for a bit. You guys go ahead," Edward said, heading toward a staircase. "I'll be there on time." The afternoon passed quickly, and most students could barely focus on their lessons. When they finally saw the Great Hall's ceiling at the Halloween Feast, all their worries melted away. The usual starry, velvet-black ceiling was now covered in dark clouds, with flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder. Hundreds of glowing jack-o'-lanterns floated in the air, surrounded by thousands of bats swooping and circling, making the candles inside the pumpkins flicker wildly. The long tables were overflowing with colorful dishes—countless sweets like Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Cauldron Cakes, chocolates, and candies, all piled high on golden plates. At the Slytherin table, the students were digging in with gusto. "Pansy, pass me that pumpkin pasty, please," Daphne said, setting down her fork and pointing to a plate across the table. "Daphne, that's your fifth pumpkin pasty! You've already had two roasted chicken legs and a Cauldron Cake!" Pansy stared at her like she was some kind of monster. "Besides Edward, you're the biggest eater in our house. You're not trying to compete with him too, are you?" Malfoy said, letting out a loud burp. Blaise chimed in with a grin, "I'd bet Edward learned the Extension Charm first and taught it to Daphne. They must've cast it on their stomachs." "The Sorting Hat should've put you in Hufflepuff. Everyone knows their common room's closest to the kitchens," Theodore Nott said, glancing at the Hufflepuff table in the distance. Crabbe and Goyle didn't join in the teasing—they saw nothing wrong with Daphne's appetite. What's wrong with liking food? We like food too! "Is it a crime to enjoy eating? Hurry up and pass me that licorice wand," Daphne said, sitting up straight with an elegant air, unfazed by their comments. "Speaking of Edward, where is he?" Malfoy asked, noticing the empty seat next to Daphne. "He's studying in an empty classroom by the second-floor girls' bathroom," Daphne said, rolling her eyes. "Last time, he got so caught up he forgot about dinner. This time—" Before she could finish, the Great Hall's doors burst open. Professor Quirrell stumbled in, his face pale with terror. "Troll! There's a troll in the dungeons!" The noisy hall fell deathly silent. Every eye turned to Quirrell, even Dumbledore, who stood up, his expression grave. "I thought you all knew..." With that, Quirrell's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a faint. "AHHH!" The hall erupted into chaos. Students screamed, scrambling toward the doors. "QUIET!" Dumbledore raised his hands, pressing them downward. An invisible wave of sound rippled through the air, silencing the hall instantly. Every student froze in place. "Please, everyone, stay calm. Prefects, lead your houses back to your dormitories," Dumbledore said, his voice steady and commanding. "Staff, follow me to the dungeons." The chaotic hall quickly became orderly. "Hufflepuff, this way!" "Gryffindors, keep up!" Percy shouted, rallying his house. Each house followed their prefects in an organized retreat. "Slytherins, downstairs with me!" As Gemma led the Slytherins down the stairs, Daphne suddenly grabbed Malfoy's arm. "Daphne, we're almost at the common room. What are you doing?" "Have you forgotten? Someone didn't come to the feast. He doesn't know about the troll!" Daphne said, staring into Malfoy's eyes. "Relax, it's Edward. And the second floor's nowhere near the dungeons," Malfoy said, shrugging and turning back to the group. But then he remembered the time he fell off his broom—and Edward's Slowing Charm. Malfoy frowned. Good thing it's the second floor. If you were in the dungeons, I wouldn't bother warning you! Sure, he was always threatening to tell his father, but since starting school, plenty had happened that he'd rather Lucius Malfoy never found out about. What was one more thing? "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"