Amelia was busy making her rounds around Hogwarts castle when she came upon a small commotion around the girl's washroom. A few first year Gryffindor girls were gathered round the door. One of the girls had just come out, shaking her head in defeat. One of the Gryffindors, Parvati didn't seem to take this as an acceptable answer and rushed into the washroom. "Come on Hermione, don't worry about those guys, let's just go to the feast! The ghosts are going to put on a show, you don't want to miss that do you?!" Amelia heard her plead, but to no avail. Hermione snapped for them to leave her alone and the girls hesitantly left for the Great Hall.

Amelia saw her chance and made her way to the girl's washroom. Immediately, she heard crying and sniffling. At least Hermione was too loud to hear her, but Amelia hoped she wasn't ruining her own robes with tears and snot. Amelia dashed into another stall and morphed back into human form. She transfigured her beige tank top and shorts to Hufflepuff robes. She stretched the fabric to its limits until the dark sleeves went to her wrists, and a yellow and black tie wound around her neck. She couldn't do much about shoes, though she hoped the robes were long enough to cover her bare feet. She stepped out of her stall, where the door creaked and Hermione heard the groan over her sobs.

"I said I want to be alone, Pavarti!" Hermione scolded.

"And I say trick or treat!" Amelia replied, in a convincing Irish accent, which she must've picked up from hanging around her Uncle Patrick.

Hearing a new voice must've caught Hermione off guard, because she was quiet as she shifted around on the seat and slowly opened a sliver in the door.

"What does a seventh year Hufflepuff care about a first year Gryffindor like me?" Hermione asked after looking Amelia up and down.

"I care 'cause it's Halloween! Your first Halloween at Hogwarts and you're going to miss all those sweets for what?!" Amelia cried.

A pause. Hermione moved to wipe away some stray tears with her sleeve, but Amelia conjured some Kleenex from the darkness of her robes. "You wouldn't want to ruin your robe, would you lass?" She said as she stuck the pack of Kleenex through the gap in the door. Hermione nodded and wiped her face with the Kleenex instead. The skin around her eyes were still red and puffy, but was slowly clearing up. After a little while, Hermione said "I don't think my Housemates like me very much."

"Well who gives a toss?" Was Amelia 's quick reply.

Hermione chewed on her lip and thought of what she would say next.

"My Housemates say I'm a know-it-all." She said quietly.

"Could you imagine what the other Houses say about the Ravenclaws?" Amelia joked.

Through the thin crack in the door, Amelia saw Hermione's mouth turn up into a small smile.

Amelia leaned on the sink and kicked her feet up. "I've been watching you, not in creepy way mind you. My Housemates say you could be the smartest witch in your year."

Hermione's eyes widened and dimples formed at the corners of her mouth. "Really?"

Amelia laughed. "Definitely. Keep up the good work, you could be the best in the school. With skills like yours, I'm suprised you don't have people lining up to be your friends."

Hermione's smile was dashed. "It's because I'm too bossy."

"Now who said that?" Amelia asked, though she had an idea she already knew.

"Harry Potter and Ron Weasley." Hermione sighed.

"Like I said, who gives a toss?"

"But how am I supposed to put up with them? I'll have to spend the next 7 years together, and we can hardly stand each other!"

Amelia blew a raspberry, secretly jealous that this is a first year's biggest plight. "You'll make friends easy. An opportunity will present itself eventually." Amelia said confidently, then lifted off the sink and twirled around the room. She danced on the tips of her toes on the cold stone floors, "and let's make it Halloween!"

Hermione laughed at the seventh year and wiped away the last of of her tears.

"Will you finally come out to the Great Hall?"

Hermione opened the door the rest of the way, as she smiled through her teary eyes. "I'll meet you there then, I just want to clean myself up."

"Well hurry up! You'll miss the candy!" Amelia called as she left the washroom. Once out the door, she checked to see if the coast was clear and transformed back into her Animagius form. She happily made her way back to the Great Hall and the feast. Amelia knew she was missing the annual Hetalia Halloween party, but at least she was at Hogwarts, which was probably just as fun.

Above her, the hundreds of candles that floated above the tables were replaced with mini Jack-o-Lanturns. A colony of bats swarmed inside the enchanted ceiling. Between the golden plates and cutlery were scattered pieces of candy and discarded wrappers. Surely more would appear upon the large saucers that lined the tables.

She spotted the elusive toad Trevor under the feet of a Ravenclaw second year and dashed to retrieve him. She headed to Neville's seat, dropped Trevor into Neville's lap and curled up against his legs. She hoped he'd try and feed her human food as a reward. If only for tonight.

The loud babble and chatter amongst Neville and his friends were silenced when Professor McGonagal stood to introduce Professor Dumbledore and his speech. After his opening speech and magical words, the Hall was filled with the 'oohs' and 'awes' of the students. Amelia stood on up on her hind legs and pawed at the luxurious tablecloth to see what had appeared on the tables.

Large pumpkins and gourds filled to the brim with Jumping Snakes, Peppermint Toads, and Cauldon Cakes. There were large platters of carrot cake, chocolate truffles and custard tarts and plates piled high with candied bacon, crystallised pineapple and caramel apples. Boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Bean and packets of Chocolate frogs littered what space was left on the grand tables.

"Looks like your cat wants some too." Harry pointed and laughed as Amelia gave her best mews. Ron had already stuffed his face with pumpkin pasties. Ron reached over and tossed a choclate frog box to Neville. Neville stumbled as he tried to catch the frog, much to the amusement of the other Gryffindors. Neville finally caught the box and placed both his frogs on the table. He pat his lap to invite Amelia up. She happily jumped and looked up and down the Gryffindor table. Hermione hadn't arrived yet, but Amelia was confident she'd enjoy Halloween, judging from the laughing and cheerful faces of all the rest.

Neville unwrapped the box and glanced at the card. It was one Ron wanted and they traded.

Finally, he turned to Amelia.

The moment she waited for.

She opened her mouth wide to accept the chocolate frog Neville held to her.

Amelia was about to close her sharp feline teeth on the frog when the doors of the Great Hall suddenly flew open. The thunderous bang startled everyone as they turned to look at Professor Quirrel. He was running down the middle the Hall, pale skinned and soaked in sweat.

"TROLLLLLLLL! IN THE DUNGEON!" he screamed as he ran towards Professor Dumbledore, seated at the front of the Great Hall. Quirell's arms were flailing, trying to keep his turban from tipping over.

"Just thought you'd like to know..." he said breathlessly before he collapsed to the floor.

The stunned silence quickly turned to urgent panic. Dumbledore stood up and proclaimed clearly, with a wise sense of calm, "Prefects! Escorts your students to your Common Rooms! The Professors will take care of the troll!"

The prefects stood up and began to evacuate their housemates out of the Hall and to their dorms.

"But our Common Room is in the dungeons!" Amelia heard a Slytherin student call.

"How did a troll get in the school?!" A panicked Ravenclaw shrieked.

Amelia rolled her eyes and grabbed Trevor in her mouth, bidding Neville to take it. She'll have to get her chocolate frog some other day. For now, duty called. Spartan would want want a report of this. She leapt down from Neville's lap, under the table, between the students legs and towards the dungeons.

"Where is she going?!" Neville cried, as Trevor attempted to escape his grasp.

Percy grabbed Trevor just as he hopped to the floor. "We know well enough that cat can take care of herself. But I need to keep you safe right now." Percy said sternly.

"Gryffindors! Follow me to Gryffindor Tower!" Percy yelled over the crowd.

The undulating crowd of students eventually funneled out of the Great Hall and into four straight-ish lines headed towards each of the House's Common Rooms.

Draco Malfoy turned to see Ron and Harry chatter something to each other in anxious tones before breaking off from the Gryffindor line to rush down a different hallway.

"Hey-"

"Oh Draco, I'm scared! You'll keep me safe, right?" Pansy cooed. She grabbed Draco's arm tightly as they followed their prefects towards their Common Room.

The green light of the magic flames in the dungeons flickered feebly, and cast strange shadows in the dark. The cool, calm green tones that led the way to the Syltherin Common Room had taken on an anxious, sickly appearance. Just the thought that the Slytherins would chance upon the troll before the professors did was one that was keeping everyone on edge.

At long last, the Prefects made it to the Common Room door, said the password and led the students in safely. It was as if the room itself gave a sigh of relief. The Common Room was a safe haven from the the troll who could be just outside. Once they entered the room, the green lights regained their bright, comforting flame. In the middle of the room, several tablecloths began materialising. They began in the middles, and like green blossoms, they stretched out into wide circles, and cascaded over the edges of the invisible tables. They wove themselves like silver and green tapestries until they reached the floor. The sweets the students left at the feast appeared upon the newly formed tables.

"Well, at least we can continue the feast in here." One of the prefects suggested.

"Let the party continue!" Milicent grabbed a bowl of Caramel Cobwebs and Dragon Claws and dived into a pile of green pillow cushions in front of the fire as the embers roared back to life.

Soon, the Slytherin students were gathered around the fire, munching on mile-long gummy worms and trading chocolate frog cards.

"Let's tell scary stories," a fourth year Slytherin suggested.

"Okay, long ago, there were three brothers-"

"We've all heard this already! It's not even scary!" The room chorused.

"Oh, I've got one," said Terence Higgs, a seventh year said slyly. "It all began with the Grim Reaper," he started.

"We already said we don't want the story of the three brothers, it's a child's bedtime story!" A fifth year whined.

"This isn't a bedtime story, it's real." Terence said sternly.

"So this is one of those 'it happened to a friend of a friend of a friend of mine' things?" a sixth year teased between bites on a handful of gummy worms.

"It happened to my aunt!" Terence said, "Do you know the one thing Death Eaters feared even more than You-Know-Who?" He asked coldly.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Came a quick response from the room.

"No, it's something that uses dark magic." Terence made them guess again.

"That Norwegian wizard, the Troll Master?"

"Close..."

"Dylan Kirkland! That dragon Animagius who used to be an Auror!"

"Warmer..." Terence teased.

A light sparked in one of the sixth year's eyes. "A Revenant." He said softly.

"Stop right there," one of the prefects said, "we shouldn't talk about those things." She said breathlessly. The rest of the older students suddenly seemed uneasy, as if the word were hanging over them, ready to fall and crush them under its weight.

"What? You scared one of them will come knocking at the window once you start talking about it?" Terence teased.

Everyone turned to look at the windows, but it was nearly pitch black; they were at the bottom of the lake after all. They could only see a few small fish that skirted around the leaves of seaweed that swayed gently in the water.

"Want to know how the Bloody Baron died?" The other prefect suggested.

"No! What's that Grim Reaper story?!" A second year cried.

"Revenants." Her housemate hissed.

"What's a Revenant? I think my dad mentioned it once." Goyle grunted.

"Of course he'd know what those monsters are," a third year, Cassius Warrington scoffed. "He'd probably come across one or two of them during the war."

"During the war?" a third year chirped through a mouth full with a Hocus Pocus Pop. With a loud smack she pulled the pop out and continued, "Were these things part of You-Know-Who's army?"

Several seventh years gasped in horror. One of them nearly choked on a pumpkin pastie.

"No no no!" One of them said, a tinge of fear coloured his voice. The younger years thought he was frightened by the mere mention of You-Know-Who, but he continued. "They'd hardly be scary at all if they were!"

"Well then what are they?!" The younger years cried.

The older years looked to each other, daring someone to speak up first. Slowly, they all turned to the two prefects to tell the story.

The male prefect shook his head sternly. The female prefect looked over the rest of the house, gathered round the fireplace, hands full of Halloween treats eagerly awaiting a Halloween story to match. The younger students wouldn't stop until they heard of something scarier than a troll inside Hogwarts' halls.

"The Revenants were ghosts of Muggles, Bloodtraitors and Mudbloods killed by Death Eaters during the War." She said, looking as if someone had snuck an earwax flavoured jellybean into her treats. She half expected the younger years to go just as pale as the upper years were. Instead they burst out laughing.

"They way you guys were acting made them sound actually scary!" Pansy teased. She gave an ugly laugh and fell from her chair.

"They are scary." Draco said flatly.

"No way!" a third year defied. "What's so scary about some dead Mudbloods?"

"They're scary if you're a Death Eater." Said Alicia, a sixth year who everyone knew was a half blood piped in. "They were more feared than the Troll Master or Dylan Kirkland. Probably even more than You-Know-Who!" She proclaimed.

"Nothing is scarier than You-Know-Who!" Crabbe argued. "Muggles aren't scary at all!"

"They are when they're killer ghosts hungry for revenge!" Cassius said. The room fell silent, the only noise in the Common Room was the soft crackle of the fire and the older Slytherin's anxious breathing.

"Where did they come from?" A third year asked nervously.

"Well, stories say once a Death Eater killed someone, a Muggle, Mudblood or Bloodtraitor, they'd be cursed for life, with a Revenant constantly trying to hunt them down." Alicia said, trying to make her voice sound spooky. The younger years still seemed unconvinced.

"If these things fought against the Death Eaters, does that mean they worked for the Ministry of Magic?" A fourth year wondered aloud.

"Everyone already knows the Ministry didn't even allow their Aurors to use the same spells the Death Eaters were using to fight them off until the last legs of the war." Terence said. "These were merciless animals. There's no way they worked with the Ministry."

"Then, where did they come from? Where did they go?" A second year asked. There must've been a logical explanation to this lame story. There was no bloody way a Muggle could ever hold its ground against a Death Eater.

"Well if you believe some of the stories, I'd think it was Dylan Kirkland who brought them to life." Mercutio, a sixth year spoke up.

"Why Dylan?" Milicent spat through a mouthful of chocolate cake. "That Bloodtraitor is a goody-two-shoes and everyone knows it."

"Well those are just the rumours. Though it might be true; it was a different time, and he was fighting against his brothers, even Alistair had joined You-Know-Who." Mercutio replied, somewhat repulsed at the chocolate faff spraying from Milicent's gob. "And think about it, if his brother was the Necromancer, Dylan would know a few tricks of his own, right?"

A wave of curiosity washed over the younger years. The Kirklands were an ancient and infamous pureblood family in the wizarding world, and had a reputation of producing some of the most powerful wizards in Britain. All the best pureblood families enjoyed gossiping and speculating about them, though their secrets were well guarded by their allies, the Waverly, Williams, Jones and Steward families. The whole bloody batch was wrapped in mystery and secrecy, so much so the prospect of Muggles coming back from the dead to seek revenge became a little more interesting once the Kirklands may have been involved.

The younger years pushed for more stories about the Revenants.

The older years slowly obliged.

"Mercutio, one of your uncle's were killed by it, right?" A sixth year nudged his friend, concerned about the green palor he'd taken on.

"My dad barely escaped with his life, too." Mercutio rasped, "he couldn't use his magic for weeks."

A third year's eyes went wide with morbid curiosity. "Is that because he was grieving or..."

"No, the Revenant did something to him. Cursed him with a touch!" He rasped. "They're monsters, they're pure evil!"

Some of the younger years regretted pushing the upper years to tell, and tried to focus on their sweets or Chocolate Frog cards instead, but the stories kept coming. Stories about cursed creatures of the night, and how their haunting wails cursed the night air.

Disturbingly, the Revenants all spoke with the voices of a thousand dead children. A couple seventh years passed around a box of Animal Bonbons, small candies that changed a person's voice to sound like an animal, in attempt to try and mimic the sound of a Revenant.

The sounds of monkeys and lions sounded much to earthly and mundane compared to what they were trying to imitate.

Crabbe just saw the colourful candy balls and stuffed a whole handful in his mouth. The roar of many different animals that fought over each other and mixed in strange ways in his throat crawled out from his dumb mouth sounding ghoulish and ethereal.

The younger years were stunned into silence as the older years continued their stories.

The Revenants were furious their young lives had been cut short by the war, driven by an insatiable thirst for revenge against the army that'd brought about their own end. And the Death Eaters weren't allowed to forget the young lives they'd taken.

While the Death Eater's masks hid their identities, allowing them to do their work anonymously, it seemed the Revenants carried a Nation's dead on its back. There was much arguing among the older Slytherins over exactly how the Revenants looked, whether it had a ghastly black body or was a hulking mass under all those flowers, but there were two things the Slytherin's could agree on. That the more Death Eaters killed Muggles and Mudbloods, the more flowers would appear on their backs. And stranger still, that the colours of flags were emblazoned across their faces.

"Someone I knew was killed by one." A student would speak up.

"Which one?" The older students asked. And the one telling the story relayed which was the monster that killed their loved- or not- so-loved one.

"The one with the fleur de lis on its back." One replied.

"The one with maple leaves along its arms." Someone said.

"The one with the Rising Sun on its face." Said another.

"The one with the German colours."

"Russia"

"China"

"India"

"Italy"

It seemed even in death, Muggles and Mudbloods were a thorn in a Death Eater's side. If You-Know-Who wanted to wipe Muggles off the face of the Earth, it'd have to be Death Eaters vs the world.

And it would be one hell of a fight. Some of the Revenants, the Death Eaters could tell, were Mudbloods or Bloodtraitors-armed with wands, they could cast advanced spells, and used both white and black magic on a whim. But most of the Revenants, it seemed, were Muggles that had perished in the war. They'd have a whole arsenal of weapons at their disposal: all of them were unholy matrimonies between Muggle weapons and Wizard magic: Enchanted swords that could cut through stone.

Arrows that'd shatter into a million points of razor sharp light.

Needles thin as hairs that would freeze limbs solid.

Buldger bats that could send hexes and curses ricocheting back at the caster

Cards that left the areas where they cut into brick walls or floorboards drained of colour and magic.

And even the barbaric Muggle weapons known as 'firelegs'. Such a weapon would would fire thunder and lightning at a target infinity more deadly than wizard firecrackers, break through a shield spell, proving more deadly than the Killing Curse.

Even unarmed these monsters were deadly, able to take away a wizard's magic with a few cursed touches. Lucky witches and wizards that survived a Revenants' touch regained it within a few days or a week. Most weren't as lucky. Needless to say, most died powerless.

Of course, they were just stories, the younger Slytherins kept telling themselves. Even the older Slytherins had a hard time believing the stories, whether they came from their own families or not.

But it was the truth.

And there was one Revenant feared above all. The one rumored to be the Grim Reaper itself.

"My grandfather was a Death Eater," the Alice piped in. "Wasn't really happy my dad married me mum. Threatened to kill her a few times. When You-Know-Who came along, he was one of the first to join. So what if she's not pure?" She challenged the other students.

"Anyway, it certainly wasn't a mindset that pleased the Revenants. My uncle said Grandad was dragged out of the house in the dead of night-Grandad put up a good fight, but it didn't do him any good. All his spells were useless. Those buldger bats it used reflected them all away. Grandad was hit by his own hexes a few times.

"Sure, a muggleborn finding the Dark Mark in the clouds over his house is traumatising. But it's not the same as hearing your own father's screams of agony as his curses are rebounded back at him, his flesh slashed and bones broken!" She hissed, the few Slytherins by her jumped back in scared suprise. A box of Every Flavour Beans were spilled across the floor, but then all the sweets had by now been abandoned. The candles from the chandeliers burned low and the fire from the fireplace was slowly dying. Everyone huddled in closer in front of the fireplace, quiet as the story continued.

"When he was finally tired out from the fight, it dragged him across the field in front of his house, where a pile of wood and a stake were waiting..." she trailed off. The older students knew what was coming, the younger ones probably weren't even told about the true horrors of the war yet.

"But fire can't do anything against a wizard, we learned this in History of Magic, witch burnings were useless," a third year whispered to his friend.

"The enchanted purple flames." Terence said solemnly. "My dad wasn't there, but he heard a whole building the Death Eaters were using as a base burned to the ground. They tried every spell they knew to put it out, but that stuff burns through every charm and enchantment until there's nothing left." He breathed.

"The one that killed your Grandad," Mercutio said to Alicia, "it was that one wasn't it?"

They met eyes. A simple nod of her head confirmed Mercutio's fears.

"The one from Britain."

The room suddenly went cold. The older Slytherins conjured up an image of the beast, from a conglomeration of different stories from friends and family. There were plenty, and they all ended in pretty much the same way.

"Meeting this Revenant meant certain death." Mercutio said.

"It was different from all the rest. Probably because the war started on its land, it must've thought You-Know-Who was betraying his country. On its back, a triangular eye was carved, and a tangled mess of roses, thistles and daffodils sprouted from it. Its skull was a cold blue with icy white streaks across the face. When it stalked through the night, looking for Death Eaters to feast on, it'd move like a cloud of smoke. As it came closer to its target, its one eye would burst into two red hot flames. When it screamed in pain, more red flames would spew from its maw. It was nothing but a twisted Union Flag for any Death Eater who laid eyes on it.

If the Revenants were monsters, this was the Grim Reaper itself. It used all kinds of Muggle weapons, from swords to firelegs, even a deck of cards. That, and all kinds of magic were at its disposal, even the darkest curses only You-Know-Who itself would dare to use. And even some sort of curse no one's ever heard of before..."

"The miasma..." Alicia guessed.

"The plague." Cassius said.

"The black wind." Draco breathed.

"No one really knows what it was, and the thing doesn't speak in English, so this curse was called lots of different things." Mercutio said.

"What was it?" A second year asked, he clutched a pillow tightly.

"This Revenant would explode into a giant black storm of razor sharp needles and burning embers. It'd envelop whole buildings and reduce them to rubble in its wake. It'd grab Death Eaters with its claws and smother them in the dark air and leave their corpses disfigured, siphoned of life and skin marred with black spots." Mercutio said.

"But even that didn't satisfy its craving for Death Eater blood. This one was hunting for someone." Terence added.

"Who?" Goyle asked.

"We don't say his name." Cassius snapped.

"He can't be worse than You-Know-Who." A third year reasoned.

The expressions that spread across the older years faces said otherwise.

"The worst Death Eater in the whole army." Draco said. The whole room turned to him. "The darkest wizard whoever lived, honestly, he was probably just using You-Know-Who. He would have just tossed the Dark Lord like trash once he got what he wanted."

Pansy looked at Draco, shocked. "But no wizard is worse than You-Know-Who, " her voice wavered, as if the night of hearing horror stories of Revenants made her disbelieve her own words.

"Who do you think provided You-Know-Who with his army of Inferi?" Terence challenged.

"Enough." The prefect called, his voice tinged with fear.

Terence smirked and continued. "My Aunt came across the Grim Reaper once. It nearly scared her to death, almost bloody did too. She ended up in St. Mungo's anyway." He said angrily.

"Did it curse her?" Someone asked vacantly.

Terence shook his head to try and find the right words for what that monster had done to his aunt. "Might as well have. She can't speak of anything but that thing anymore. It spoke to her."

Small gasps were heard around the room, and everyone held their breath, curious at what the thing had said.

Terence grabbed a box of Animal Bonbons. As he punched through the cardboard to open the box, he explained, "The Revenant was looking for the Necromancer...you know, Oliver Kirkland."

He sneered, then he opened the box and poured the Animal Bonbons into his mouth. What came next was a sound, no, a message that would have been a death knoll to anyone loyal to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, a wailing that shook the glass on the windows and pierced the eardrums of anyone who heard it. Even the fireplace was blown cold, and plunged the room into darkness.

There was much girlish screaming in the pitch black of the room until the lights came back on to their full brightness, with Professor Snape in the middle of the room, a sour scowl across his face. The students wondered how long he'd been there, and whether he'd heard their stories or not.

"What exactly are you buffoons doing?" He sneered, he glanced at the mess of Halloween treats scattered across the floor that led to the huddled group of students, faces paled and nearly drained of blood.

"The troll has been dealt with." He droned. A few sighs of relief were heard in the room, thankful that's at least one monster taken care of.

"It's past curfew," Snape snapped, "I want you all in bed in ten minutes or else you'll all have detention."

The students quickly scrambled to get up from their seats on the floor and dashed towards their dorms. No one wanted detention, though they were glad they hadn't lost any house points from staying up so late.

Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor Common Room, the commotion of the Halloween feast was just dying down.

Harry, Ron and Hermione finally arrived after a close encounter with the troll.

"There you are!" Neville cried when he saw Harry and Ron climb through the portrait hole. "Where did you guys go?" He asked anxiously.

"Uh, we just got a little sidetracked," Harry blushed with embarrassment.

"We'll explain later in our room, have I got a story to tell you!" Ron whispered in Neville's ear.

"Okay! Well anyway, I got something for you," Neville said. He pulled out a large pumpkin filled with Halloween treats from the feast, and passed it to Harry and Ron to hold. "I saved them for you."

"I've got something for you too, Neville." Hermione said. She pulled his cat from out of her robes. Neville's cat seemed a bit frazzled after her experience with the troll. She rocked her furry head between her paws. The gesture was cute, almost human. "We found her in the washroom. She seemed scared and was meowing up a storm until she got hit by the troll but she seems better now." Hermione started petting the cat in her arms, and she started purring affectionately. The cat curled into Hermione's chest and nuzzled her head softly against Hermione's arm.

"Wow, she doesn't really do that a lot," Neville said, surprised. "I think she likes you." He said happily. Hermione smiled before handing the cat over to Neville.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry called and gestured to the pumpkin in his hands. "I don't think Ron and I can finish this on our own. Would you like to share?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, and they all found a spot in front of the fireplace where everyone was sharing stories. Dean was recounting the time he almost crashed into a Muggle helicopter on a broom. Some seventh years were passing on the story of how Nearly Headless Nick became nearly headless. When the Gryffindors started sharing scarier stories in the spirit of Halloween, Hermione was able to scare Ron by telling them that she and her father had found a spider's egg sack while they were camping. It was all in good fun, and for a prank, Fred and George enchanted a box of Mr. Spindle's Lick 'O' Rish Spiders to burst like the sack in Hermione's story, though Ron didn't appreciate the trick very much.

When the Gryffindors were finished all their candy and sweets, it was finally time for curfew, and everyone marched up the stairs to their dorms.

Harry and Ron whispered their story of the troll to Neville in their beds, and when the sound of their snoring classmates slowly filled the room, they too, fell fast asleep.

Harry slept peacefully, that Halloween night. A bit miffed he'd lost Gryffindor a few house points, but at least he'd gained a friend.

Not everyone slept so soundly though.

Draco Malfoy laid in his bed, tossing and turning. Some of the Slytherins in his year still couldn't believe the frightening stories of their upper classmen; or they didn't want to believe such cruel creatures such as Revenants existed and defied the power of You-Know-Who's army.

Draco knew, of course, that they were real. His father had told him he was cursed and hunted by those beasts. Pretending that he was Imperiused to join You-Know-Who was the only thing that had saved him. The Revenants had already taken his godfather, after all. Lucius would be damned if any more harm came to his family. Draco took comfort in that in the very least.

Draco turned onto his side and stared out the window. The gently swaying seaweed slowly lulled him to sleep.