Hogwarts itself, always truly awake, experienced only the briefest of lulls when students were sleeping, though in some corner of the castle, figures in the paintings on the walls knew to expect excitement soon. They stood awake, observing the shadows thrown by Peeves the Poltergeist, traipsing up and down the corridors causing reckless disruption, his idea of fun. And it's true, older students sat in their common rooms playing games, or studying for the exam in Transfiguration scheduled for the next day, but they too soon retired to bed, like those already tucked comfortably in. Professor Dumbledore was sat in his office reading, immersed in his book. And suddenly, he looked up, broken away from it's spell, and noticed the time. Smiling faintly to himself, he stood up and crossed his room to the window, watching the Whomping Willow stir restlessly, before turning, and exiting his office.
He walked with purpose, with lithe, quick steps. Through the corridors, his long silvery beard was always seen before his face in the darkness, and this time was no different. Dumbledore nodded bemusedly at Peeves as he passed him, the ghost managing to drop a bedpan stealthily stolen from somewhere in surprise at him. He spluttered compliments and apologies in his usual oily manner, though the professor knew only to smile, and walk away, leaving him to it.
The heads of all 4 houses knew to be awake at this hour, and as he entered the main hall, Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout stood waiting for him. The hall was already well lit, and some tables had already disappeared. The focus was clearly on just one in the middle, with date palm trees growing carefully near neatly arranged charmed plates and cups. The high ceilings hosted a night sky today, complete with a crescent moon, in light of the occasion.
"Have we alerted the students?" He asked, at precisely the same time in which a gaggle of them appeared, some sleepy-eyed, and others excited, gazing at the hall around them in amazement.
"Of course, Professor," Professor McGonagall began, "It's Ramadan. You know we don't foresake our responsibilites."
He smiled, gesturing with his hand for teachers and students to be seated, and then did the same himself, observing the expressions of joy on the faces of his Muslim pupils with happiness. Across the table, they looked to their teachers in gratitude, knowing to recite the arabic engraved on the top of the plates first, and watching as it disappeared as they said it, before finding their plates full with the sehri meal, the breakfast meal for fasting, they used to have at home. The house-elves had been busy.
"The arabic," Snape began, turning to a first year Slytherin girl with a scarf tied hastily around her head, "I can appreciate. Beginning your fast for tomorrow by making your intention aloud to God is…"
He stopped to accept a date given to him by a Hufflepuff boy, obvious surprise on his face, but took to chewing it before finishing his sentence, "…admirable."
"Thanks." The Slytherin girl grinned, in spite of her nerves at being directly addressed by one of the most intimidating teachers at Hogwarts.
The professors ate with their students, Flitwick and an older Ravenclaw girl splitting some toast between them, McGonagall pouring tea into the cups of three very young Gryffindors, and smiling as they expressed their gratitude, Sprout handing out some fruit, and Snape finding a barrage of dates being given to him by all sides of the table, plucked off of the growing date palm trees. Though the teachers knew they would not be keeping the fast the next day with their pupils, there was something quite magical in eating in the night with them.
It was known only Dumbledore intended to keep the fasts, and so it was he who announced he conclusion of the meal, who clapped his hands so that everything disappeared, and a large prayer mat rolled out from under their feet.
Teachers stood aside as they watched their students pray, ignoring the pangs of sleep itching at their eyes. And then, when they were done, they supervised them back to their individual common rooms, made sure they were comfortable in their dormitories, and took to bed themselves.
The main hall appeared just as it had done before, without any evidence of the night's happenings, and Dumbledore still stood, his half-moon spectacles sliding down his nose. He pushed them up, and turned to leave, knowing that this very room would be full of students wanting breakfast the next day…
That is, all except for some.
