That year's Halloween Feast was, for Gabriel, the best one so far - bar none.
Not only had he spent the afternoon on a perfect date with his girlfriend - and Merlin, he didn't think he'd ever tire of that word - but the night itself had been blissfully peaceful.
No trolls.
No walls scrawled in blood.
No Gryffindor girls disappearing into bloody bathrooms.
No ominous feelings creeping down his spine.
Just laughter, warmth, and an unreasonable amount of pumpkin-themed desserts.
He'd eaten his fill and then some, and now, pleasantly drowsy, he was drying himself off with a towel that felt infinitely nicer than any charm could manage.
'Maybe the same curse that affected the Defence Against the Dark Arts post also infected Halloween', he mused, tugging on his so-called pajamas - a loose black tank top, grey sweatpants, and puffy slippers that looked a bit ridiculous on someone his size.
Normally, he wouldn't have bothered. He'd slept naked most of his life, and even at Hogwarts he still preferred that - when warming charms or his little ring of Bluebell Flames kept the chill at bay. But tonight he'd promised Luna they'd sleep in the Ravenclaw common room, curled up on the couch together, and doing that in his birthday suit was… out of the question.
So for the first time in forever, he put on proper sleeping clothes without expecting to take them off again when he was actually going to sleep.
Blanket rolled under one arm, he padded quietly down the spiral staircase into the common room.
Most of the first-years had long gone to bed, but a few older students lingered in the soft blue-gold firelight. Clusters of voices murmured here and there. Padma Patil and Michael Corner sat opposite each other at a table, deep in a wizard chess match, an open box of Honeydukes sweets between them. The faint scent of caramel and cocoa drifted through the air.
And there was Luna - perched sideways on a couch near the window, dressed in what could only be described as Luna Lovegood sleepwear: a set of pale-blue flannel pyjamas embroidered with tiny silver stars, the cuffs trimmed with mismatched buttons, and an enormous pair of woolly socks that might once have been pink, now faded into something like seashell coral. Around her neck hung a necklace of polished butterbeer corks, glinting softly in the candlelight.
She was hunched over a roll of parchment, quill scratching, a plate of the pastries Gabriel had brought her balanced precariously at her side.
"What've you got there?" Gabriel asked, leaning over the back of the couch, arms folded. "Homework?"
Luna did her best owl impression - head turning almost all the way around to blink up at him, wide-eyed and smiling faintly. Then she shook her head.
"No. I'm sending Daddy the results of my investigations for an article."
"Oh?" Gabriel's lips quirked with interest. "What about?"
Instead of answering, she calmly bent forward and blew gently across the wet ink - conveniently making it impossible for him to read the page. Then she gathered up the parchment and her quill and tucked them neatly into her bag.
"Well," she said with grave seriousness, "it wouldn't be very fair if you had access before everyone else, would it? That would be a terrible breach of journalistic integrity."
Gabriel snorted and, with all the grace of a falling tree, hopped over the back of the couch to land beside her. He reached out and pinched her cheeks.
"You're adorable."
"I know," Luna said simply, a hint of cheekiness in her eyes.
Gabriel chuckled and let go of her cheeks.
"Now lie down," Luna said, rising from her seat and patting the couch cushion. "We had a deal, and I also have my integrity as a businesswoman to maintain."
"Well, my expectations are high, so you'd better not disappoint," he teased.
She nodded solemnly, all seriousness and determination - which only made him snicker. Still, he did as told, rolling onto his stomach and folding his arms beneath his head. He expected her to sit on his back and start the massage normally.
She did climb onto him - but instead of sitting, she stood up straight on his back.
"Wha-?" he started, but before he could finish, Luna jumped.
The air left his lungs in a sharp "oof!"
Laughter erupted from the nearby table. Michael Corner looked over with a crooked grin while Padma giggled behind her hand.
"Oh Merlin, there go the weirdos again," Michael said, though without a hint of malice.
"Oh, be nice," Padma chided good-naturedly. "Luna, dear, what are you doing?"
"It's- a- massage," Luna answered between hops, balancing on the tips of her toes like a dancer.
"I don't think that's how massages work, Luna," said Michael, leaning back with a lazy grin. "Are you sure you're not trying to kill him?"
"Hnn- no," Gabriel groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow. "It's actually quite- nice. If she tried with her hands, I probably wouldn't feel anything. Can you go a little higher, Luna? Yeah, right- ah, there-"
A loud pop echoed from his spine.
"Oh, Merlin," he sighed, half in relief, half in disbelief.
It was this sight - Luna hopping barefoot on the back of her half-giant housemate while a pair of Ravenclaws snickered nearby - that greeted Penelope Clearwater as she stepped through the door.
She stopped, blinked once, twice, and finally exhaled the long-suffering sigh of someone who had learned not to ask questions in her own common room. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose, she said:
"I don't even want to know. Come on, everyone - the Headmaster's called for all students to assemble in the Great Hall. Something's happened."
Gabriel groaned again - this time, in pure frustration.
-~=~-
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," announced Professor Dumbledore to the sea of sleepy students. His voice carried effortlessly through the Great Hall, calm but firm. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances, and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added, turning to Percy Weasley. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
With that, he moved toward the doors, joined by the other professors who had just finished reinforcing the entrances with a flurry of protective charms. Then he paused and turned back.
"Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"
A casual wave of his pale wand sent the long tables gliding neatly to the walls; another, and - in a dazzling display of conjuration - the stone floor was instantly covered with hundreds of thick, purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Dumbledore with a grandfatherly smile, before closing the doors behind him.
'Show-off,' Gabriel thought good-naturedly, smirking to himself.
The moment the door clicked shut, the Great Hall exploded into whispers. Students hurried between their friends, all too eager to spread half-heard rumors and wild theories. Gabriel, towering above most of them, weaved through the crowd in search of Hermione - though she found him first, Crookshanks nestled in her arms like a fuzzy orange loaf.
"Gabriel! You won't believe-" she began breathlessly, voice tight with nerves, but then froze. Her eyes drifted upward, her expression flickering into bafflement.
Gabriel blinked, following her gaze - and remembered, a beat too late, that a very pouty Luna Lovegood was perched on his back like a sleepy cat.
He smiled impishly, kissed Hermione's forehead, and shrugged. "Don't worry about Luna," he said lightly. "She's a koala."
"Eucalipto," Luna agreed serenely.
Hermione stared at them, utterly lost, before letting out an unladylike snort and bursting into laughter. She leaned into his chest, laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. Gabriel chuckled, patting her head, relieved to see the tension melting from her shoulders.
"That's not- that's not what koalas say, Luna," she managed between giggles.
"Have you ever heard a koala?" Luna asked, her tone perfectly serious.
"No, but-"
"Then how would you know?"
"She's got you there, 'Mione," Gabriel said, grinning.
Hermione huffed and swatted him on the chest. "Don't be a prat."
"Don't be a sore loser," he shot back, earning another playful slap. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"
And she did - explaining how, barely twenty minutes earlier, the Gryffindor students returning from the feast had found the Fat Lady missing from her portrait. The frame had been torn apart, the canvas slashed and shredded. When Professor Dumbledore arrived, Peeves had gleefully informed him that Sirius Black himself had tried to get into the common room.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy suddenly, his voice echoing through the hall. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!
Gabriel guided the girls - and Crookshanks - toward a quiet corner of the hall, away from the chatter and rustle of a hundred conjured sleeping bags. With a flick of his wand, he transformed his own from gaudy purple into a deep, elegant blue, the color rippling like silk under candlelight. He settled down beside Hermione, frowning as he listened to her recount everything she'd heard about the attack.
"That's… weird," he muttered once she was done. "I didn't feel anything this time."
That detail gnawed at him. He wasn't sure if his 'gift' had failed him - or if it had tried to warn him and he'd simply ignored it, too distracted by his date and his happiness. The thought that Hermione might have been in danger because he'd let his guard down made his stomach twist.
Hermione caught the look on his face. She sighed, recognizing that expression all too well, and gave a soft scoff as she waved her hand dismissively.
"You told me yourself that Divination is imprecise, even at the best of times," she reminded him. Seeing that it didn't do much to ease his frown, she added gently, "And this time, no one was actually in danger. Black picked the worst possible moment to attack - when no one was there. Maybe that's why you didn't sense anything."
Gabriel nodded slowly, then shook his head. "That makes sense… but it doesn't feel right. No one was in actual danger last year either."
"Mrs. Norris was," Luna pointed out matter-of-factly.
"I don't think cats-" he began, then stopped abruptly when he noticed three glares fixed on him - Hermione's, Luna's, and even Crookshanks's unamused stare. "You're absolutely right, Luna," he corrected smoothly. "Pity I didn't get there soon enough to prevent the attack."
Hermione snorted, hiding a smile behind her hand. Crookshanks let out an unimpressed 'mrrp'.
Gabriel laughed sheepishly but still looked troubled. Then an idea seemed to light behind his eyes. Raising his brows, he reached up and plucked a few strands of his own hair.
"Gabriel!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise. "What are you-?"
He didn't answer, pointing his wand at the strands instead. "Chartafors."
The hairs twisted and flattened in midair, glowing faintly before transfiguring into a small deck of rough-edged cards. He began to shuffle them, his expression distant.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked curiously, while Luna leaned closer, eyes bright.
"Tarot," Gabriel said simply - though his voice had taken on an otherworldly tone, quiet and resonant. His silver eyes shifted, the pupils dissolving into glowing blue light.
Hermione's breath caught. It was the same look he'd had during their very first Divination class.
"What truth hides behind tonight's events?" Gabriel intoned, his voice carrying a faint echo.
He laid three cards carefully on the stone floor before them - one, two, three his large fingers trembling slightly as he flipped the first.
"First," Gabriel began, his voice still layered with that strange echo, "the past calls upon - the Reversed Moon."
The card shimmered faintly under the enchanted ceiling's dim light, its silvery surface rippling like real water.
"To see the Moon," Gabriel continued, "is to see a path leading into the unknown. On either side stand a dog and a wolf - the civilized and the savage halves of the mind. The crayfish rising from the lake symbolizes the subconscious surfacing, our most primal instincts. The twin towers in the distance are symbols of choice - severity and mercy."
His glowing eyes narrowed slightly. "Reversed, the Moon represents fear, deception, and misunderstanding."
He flipped the second card.
"Second - the present calls upon The Tower, upright." The image glowed violently, a jagged spire struck by lightning. "A high tower, built on a mountain peak. A bolt of lightning strikes; flames burst from the windows, and people leap out in desperation. The Tower stands for ambition built on faulty ground. Its fall is necessary to clear away the old and make room for something new. It signifies disaster, sudden change - radical transformation."
A quiet murmur rippled through the small crowd now gathered around him.
Gabriel drew in a slow breath before turning the final card.
"And third - the future calls upon Justice, upright."
A regal figure in crimson robes stared back at them from the card, silver scales balanced in one hand, a gleaming sword in the other.
"Lady Themis sits in judgment. The scales represent balance - between intuition and logic. The sword, impartiality. The square on her crown is clarity of thought, required to deliver fair judgment. And beneath her cloak," he added softly, "a white shoe, the reminder that all outcomes are the consequence of our own actions."
He looked down at the card for a long moment. "Set to the future, this speaks of balance restored. Karma, revelation, accountability… and truth."
As the last words left him, the glow faded from his eyes. He blinked several times, grimacing as he pressed a hand to his temple.
"Gabriel!" Hermione said immediately, worry breaking through her usual restraint as she leaned toward him.
"I'm fine," he said weakly, voice raspy. "Wasn't as bad as last time."
"But what did it mean?" asked a familiar voice nearby.
Gabriel looked up, blinking in surprise - and found a large ring of students encircling him. At the front were Harry - who had asked the question - and Ron, the latter clutching a twitching, panicked Scabbers to his chest.
"I haven't the foggiest, mate," Gabriel admitted honestly.
"Isn't it obvious?" piped up Lavender Brown, her eyes wide with excitement as she leaned in closer, practically glowing. "It means everything's going to be alright!"
Hermione groaned softly. "Lavender, Divination isn't-"
"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't you trust your boyfriend's predictions?" Lavender said with a mischievous grin.
"That's not-!" Hermione spluttered, cheeks turning crimson.
"It is!" Lavender pressed on eagerly, gesturing at the cards. "Look - it's simple! The Reversed Moon means fear and deception, right? That must be the fear Sirius Black spread, and his deception of Harry's parents! Then the Tower - that's tonight, the attack and the chaos! And finally, Justice - that means he's going to be caught and punished! See?"
She turned to Gabriel with shining eyes, clearly pleased with herself. "Isn't that right?"
Gabriel blinked slowly, leaning tiredly against the wall while Hermione tightened her grip on his hand. Luna, sitting on his other side, began softly rubbing his temples.
"Couldn't tell one way or another," he murmured honestly.
Lavender huffed but smiled anyway. "That's fine - even the best Seers had interpreters! So, what do you say-"
"Wait." Harry's voice cut through the chatter, sharp and uncertain. His face had gone pale. "What do you mean, Sirius Black's deception of my parents?"
The crowd fell abruptly silent. Dozens of faces turned toward him, some with sympathy, others with hesitation, most with pity. Harry looked around, confusion and dread mixing in his expression.
"You didn't know, Potter?" drawled a familiar voice.
Draco Malfoy stood a few steps away, smirking, his green-and-gold silk pajamas glinting in the candlelight. His tone was venom wrapped in silk.
"Sirius Black was your father's best friend," he said, drawing out every word. "And his Secret Keeper. He's the one who told You-Know-Who where your parents were hiding."
A murmur rippled through the hall like a chill wind. Harry's face went white.
And Gabriel, watching from the corner of his eye, felt that the ponce must have become a masochist, to be begging for another slap like that.