Hogsmeade's streets had grown very quiet. The crowds that usually came and went were nowhere to be seen, and a bleak atmosphere filled the white little village. Anyone who didn't know better might have thought the British wizarding world had run into an economic depression.
This desolation had spread into the shops as well. The number of adult wizards had dropped sharply; if it weren't for the groups of students showing up today, the shopkeepers would probably have wasted another day with no business.
After all, no one liked dealing with Dementors. Hogsmeade, not far from Hogwarts, was a key target of their patrols, as the Ministry of Magic suspected that Black was very likely to appear in this small village.
All of this effort by the Ministry was pointless. If Black could escape from right under the Dementors' noses once, he could do it a second time.
What's more, both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade could be said to be heavily guarded. Approaching either place rashly would mean either that Black wasn't very bright, or that he was exceptionally skilled and bold, confident he wouldn't be discovered.
Eda had never understood why the Ministry of Magic trusted dark creatures like Dementors—handing Azkaban over to them to guard, and even letting them handle the pursuit of escaped criminals.
What about the Aurors? Eda really wanted to ask—what about the Aurors? Compared to Dementors, Aurors who could actually think were surely a better choice for hunting fugitives.
Inside the Three Broomsticks, Eda took small sips of her butterbeer, the warmth indoors finally driving away the chill clinging to her body.
The twins stared resentfully at Madam Rosmerta. The two of them had just tried to order a man's drink, but Madam Rosmerta had refused to sell Firewhisky to underage customers.
The kind-hearted aunt was not kind at all at this moment—at least, that was how Fred and George felt.
Among the shops in Hogsmeade, the most popular were Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.
Unlike the dirty and shabby Hog's Head, and unlike the overly sweet Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, the Three Broomsticks appealed to a wider crowd. Not only could you drink butterbeer there, you could also have other beverages with lower alcohol content.
Madam Rosmerta herself was the living signboard of the place. Still full of charm, she wasn't only attractive to the boys of Hogwarts. And besides, running a pub like this couldn't be done on looks alone—Madam Rosmerta's abilities outshone her face and figure.
After finishing the butterbeer in her hand and then drinking an extra cup of hot honey wine, Eda finally worked up the courage to throw herself back into the cold wind.
Winter had come especially early this year. By the time Halloween arrived, Eda had already put on somewhat heavier winter clothes. After the bitter cold, she hoped to see a beautiful spring.
The three of them first went to Zonko's Joke Shop. The twins needed to restock some supplies and, at the same time, indulged in a bit of a daydream.
The brothers declared that after graduating, they would take over this Zonko's Joke Shop as the first step in their venture. It was a nice idea, but that dream would probably not be easy to achieve.
Next, Eda and the twins went to Honeydukes. After buying some chocolate there, the three of them returned to the school together. They didn't go straight back to the castle, however, but headed instead to Twilight Cottage.
The fire in the hearth warmed the entire cottage. Holding a cup of hot cocoa and standing by the window to look outside made for a wonderfully comfortable afternoon.
Outside Twilight Cottage were students who had come to see Britain's most famous haunted house, the Shrieking Shack; inside Twilight Cottage was Eda, smiling slyly as she watched the students shivering in the wind.
As the fragment goes, how does it say again—when you stand on the bridge looking at the scenery, the one looking at the scenery is looking at you from the tower. The students had come to see the haunted Shrieking Shack, not to be watched by the "ghost" inside it.
If these students had been a little braver and gone straight into the courtyard, or stepped a bit closer, they might have discovered that the rumors were false. They would have found that there were no ghosts in the Shrieking Shack at all—only a beautiful older schoolmate.
It wasn't until evening that Eda and the twins returned from the cottage to the castle to attend the Halloween feast. The moment they entered the Great Hall, what greeted them were the familiar thousands of jack-o'-lanterns and bats flitting about.
This year, however, there were also some additional orange banners burning with flames. Like brightly colored water snakes, they drifted lazily across the storm-brewing ceiling.
The feast was extremely lavish, but even such abundance couldn't stop people from talking. Everyone was discussing today's trip to Hogsmeade and talking about where they would go to have fun next time.
By the lively long tables, Harry looked out of place. He could only keep stuffing pumpkin pasties into his mouth, so that he would seem merely too hungry, rather than having nothing to say.
The feast concluded with a performance by the ghosts of Hogwarts. They burst out from walls and tables, forming various formations as they glided about. Nearly Headless Nick of Gryffindor reenacted his beheading once again, to great success.
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, Gryffindor's resident ghost. On October 30, 1492, this knight attempted to help Lady Grieve by straightening her teeth.
Contrary to his intentions, Lady Grieve's teeth not only failed to straighten but instead grew into terrifying fangs. Because of this magical accident, Sir Porpington was sentenced to beheading.
On the day of the execution, the executioner's axe was very dull, because the stone used to sharpen it had gone missing. As a result, poor Sir Porpington was struck a total of forty-five times, and even then, there was still a little bit of skin and sinew connecting his head to his neck.
The feast ended, and students from the four houses poured out of the Great Hall and onto the staircases.
No one came charging into the Great Hall in a panic, shouting that something terrible had happened. No one fainted in the Hall, and there was no scrawny, skin-and-bones cat hanging from a torch. This year's Halloween seemed to have passed safely.
However, Eda did not let her guard down. Even if it was already 23:59, Halloween was not yet over, and the possibility of danger still existed. Halloween at Hogwarts was like a causality-law weapon—something unpleasant always happened on this day.
Reality proved her right. Eda and the twins followed their usual route back to Gryffindor Tower. But when they reached the corridor leading to the Fat Lady's portrait, they found it packed with students.
"What's going on? Why isn't anyone going in?" Fred asked curiously.
George stood on his tiptoes and looked over the heads of the students in front. He couldn't see much—only that the portrait hole seemed to be closed. "No idea. The Fat Lady doesn't seem to be here. The entrance is shut."
Eda said "Excuse me, coming through," as she pushed her way forward through the crowd. When the surrounding students saw Eda appear, they instinctively made way for her, and she finally understood why everyone was blocked here.
The students weren't stuck here because they had collectively forgotten the password, nor because the Fat Lady was once again showing off her "beautiful singing voice." It was because the Fat Lady—the Gryffindor house guardian—was gone!
The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait. The painting had been viciously slashed, fragments of canvas scattered across the floor, and a large piece of the canvas had been torn away entirely.
Although the Fat Lady's singing voice could be lethal, the students clearly wouldn't have done something like this. Someone must have been attempting to break into the Gryffindor common room.
Eda's gaze swept quickly over the crowd of students. She raised her voice and said, "Clark, go find Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall and tell them what's happened here!"
Clark Gerald snapped out of his confusion. The newly appointed male prefect immediately turned around, pushed his way back through the crowd, and left Gryffindor Tower. Panic spread through the air— the portrait had been destroyed so badly, was another terrifying attack about to happen in the school?
The crowd quieted down. Starting from the front, it felt as though a chill was spreading along the corridor.
"Excuse me, let me through," Percy's voice came from the crowd. He hurried forward with great seriousness, squeezing past the students. "Why is everyone blocking the way? You can't all have forgotten the password, can you—sorry, make way, I'm the Headboy—"
When he saw the damaged portrait, Percy froze, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart. He almost cried out in shock, but managed to rein himself in just in time, avoiding greater panic.
"Everyone, stay calm!" Eda shouted again. "Keep an eye on the people around you, don't move around casually! Upper-year students, look after the younger ones!"
Eda knew she had to steady the situation and keep everyone from falling into panic—this was her responsibility as a prefect. But she had no better solution and could only hope that Clark would find Dumbledore as quickly as possible.
Three commands in a row finally stopped the restlessness. The students quieted down, but every face was filled with unease. Everyone felt that the destruction of the Fat Lady's portrait was only the beginning of the attack.
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