Harry Potter trudged toward the Gryffindor common room, his limbs heavy with exhaustion.
Today was Halloween Eve. The corridors were filled with the rich, tempting scent of roasted pumpkin, but Harry barely had any appetite left.
As he entered the Gryffindor common room, he saw bats flapping across the walls and ceiling. They swirled above the sofas like low-hanging black clouds, making the candle flames inside the carved pumpkins flicker and dance.
Normally, he might have found it amusing. Right now, he couldn't care less.
"Hey, Harry!" someone called out.
"Hey…" Harry replied weakly. He climbed the spiral staircase and returned to his dormitory.
He tossed his wand aside and collapsed onto his bed, utterly spent.
"Harry…"
His roommate, Neville Longbottom, happened to be passing by. The clumsy-looking boy adjusted his collar as he spoke.
"The Halloween feast is about to start. They say this year's banquet is especially lavish. To boost morale, Professor Dumbledore even invited the Skeleton Band…"
"Huh… huh…"
Neville's words were answered only by faint snoring.
"Merlin's beard… he fell asleep just like that?" Neville said in disbelief.
After thinking it over for a moment, he decided it was best not to disturb Harry.
Exhausted.
Worn out.
Utterly miserable.
This had been Harry Potter's life for nearly two weeks now.
On top of his regular classes, he was undergoing extra "Occlumency" training under the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Severus Snape.
Snape was nothing like he had been last term. During their three weekly Occlumency sessions, he assaulted Harry's mind with Legilimency as if possessed, relentlessly tearing through his thoughts. The first few times, Harry had needed to spend ten minutes retching in the bathroom before he could even walk away.
Eventually, even the vomiting became routine.
The exhaustion, however, never went away.
Harry was deeply convinced that Severus Snape was doing this on purpose.
As for how effective the Occlumency training actually was… who knew? At the very least, he seemed to have slightly better control than he did half a year ago. One thing was certain: over the past few months, he hadn't been plagued by nightmares about Voldemort as frequently as he had the year before.
"Harry… Harry…"
Urgent voices pulled him out of sleep.
It was Ron Weasley. Through bleary eyes, Harry saw that Ron's neck was covered in marks—kiss marks, or more accurately, bite marks.
"Hey, mate…" Ron whispered. "Snape again?"
Harry didn't bother speaking. He just nodded faintly.
"Seeing how you've been these past two weeks, I'm starting to think Snape's got ulterior motives," Ron said thoughtfully. "Did you tell Professor Dumbledore?"
"Professor Dumbledore hasn't been at school these past two weeks…" Harry replied weakly. "The stone gargoyle outside his office told me so…"
"All right. When he gets back, you absolutely have to complain to him." Ron patted Harry on the shoulder. "Oh—and the Halloween feast. Let's go together. They say it's especially grand this year!"
"I really don't feel like eating anything…" A strange sound escaped Harry's throat. "You go without me…"
"Fine…" Ron nodded, muttering to himself.
"This Halloween's cursed or something… Hermione's not going, you're not going… but at least—"
"Ron, Ron… hurry up!" Lavender Brown's voice called from outside the dormitory.
"Coming!" Ron answered quickly. He turned back to Harry. "Get some rest."
...
The Halloween feast was the perfect opportunity—it gathered the vast majority of the school's students and staff into the Great Hall.
That included a number of lightly injured patients from the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey herself, and of course Miss Daphne Greengrass. All of them had gone to attend the banquet.
Because of this, Jon Hart was able—rarely—to accompany Astoria Greengrass on a walk through the Hospital Wing garden before sunset.
Dusk was approaching, faint streaks of twilight lingering at the edge of the sky.
Astoria let her cane fall to the ground, waved away Jon's offered support, and carefully took one small step after another.
"One, two, three…" Jon counted softly beside her. "Eight, nine, ten! Well done!"
He jogged over, steadied her, and helped her sit back down on the bench.
They were beside a large stone sculpture of a reindeer. Beyond it, a tall fountain sprayed shimmering arcs of water that caught the fading light.
Astoria reached out, letting the droplets splash against her hand. Smiling, she said, "This is all thanks to you, Jon. What was that liquid in the crystal vial you secretly gave me? Even Madam Pomfrey is shocked by how fast I'm recovering. She said she's never seen someone bounce back so quickly from such a weakened state."
Of course, Jon thought. After all, very few people ever encountered a phoenix that could mass-produce tears.
Outwardly, he just shook his head gently, signaling that it was a secret.
Astoria pouted slightly. "You really do keep everything from me…"
Even so, she leaned closer to him.
"Madam Pomfrey said that at this pace, I'll be fully recovered in just over a month," Astoria continued.
"A little over a month—that'll be right around the Christmas holidays," Jon said with a smile. "Once the holidays are over, you can come back to Hogwarts and attend classes like before."
"Classes…" Astoria murmured. The word sounded distant and unfamiliar to her. She shook her head softly. "That won't work. I didn't enroll this year. We never thought I'd recover this quickly…"
"That's no problem at all," Jon said confidently. "Leave it to me."
He quickly added, "I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore."
"Right!" Astoria blinked. "Professor Dumbledore is such a gentle person—he'll definitely agree."
The enticing scent of roasted pumpkin drifted into the garden.
Astoria sniffed the air. "It smells so good…"
"Don't worry. Daphne will definitely bring you lots and lots of delicious food later," Jon reassured her.
"Oh, right…" Astoria suddenly remembered something. "My sister told me that Aurors are guarding the entire school now. Jon, how did you manage to sneak in to see me?"
"Because I know plenty of secret passages into the school," Jon said with a smile. "Remember how we came in through the Hog's Head back then?"
"No." Astoria shook her head again. "Jon, you really shouldn't do such dangerous things. What if Mr. Filch or the Aurors catch you and think you're a criminal? If you get hurt, that would be awful…"
"It's fine," Jon said gently, patting her head.
Just then, a strange birdcall echoed from beyond the garden.
Jon Hart's expression changed.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I have something to take care of. I should be going."
Astoria looked at him reluctantly, but nodded.
"Be careful on your way."
"Don't worry."
...
After escorting Astoria back to her ward, Jon left the Hospital Wing and stepped out of the garden.
A brilliant crimson bird was strutting about nearby, a mandrake leaf clenched proudly in its beak.
"Come on, Fawkes. It's time to go," Jon said seriously. "Now's the perfect moment to head to Durmstrang."
The phoenix shot him a haughty glance, as if to say: I've been ready for ages—you're the one who kept dawdling.
Then it turned around, presenting its tail feathers to him.
Jon reached out and grabbed hold.
The next instant, the world spun into darkness.
All that filled his vision was a swirling blend of crimson and gold.