AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another update? Boy, am I on a roll. For the record, it occurred to me that I skipped over the entire Incident with Aunt Marge in the summer preceding this Year. There's actually a good reason: with Apophis in the house, the Dursleys fended off any attempts by friends and family to come visit, and instead they went off to Marge's house for a week, giving Harry seven days to enjoy the whole of Privet Drive for himself. There! Happy, nitpickers? Also, as always, many thanks to Favers, Followers and Reviewers alike. You all make writing this worth it. And now — Halloween!
Chapter XXIII: Halloween Hijinx
In the time remaining until Hallowe'en, Hermione (with the help of the Weasley Twins) had been perfecting Operation Ghost Sirius. They had already used the Grandmasters' Remote Reverberators to send out some ghostly wails in Sirius's voice down the corridors at midnight, where they knew Mr Filch would hear them; but the main operation, the one for which she had spent even more time in the Library than usual, was set to go off on Hallowe'en Night. That seemed a fitting date for launching a ghost story.
Thus, in the afternoon, on Sunday, October the 31st, Hermione joined Sirius in his room of the Corridor.
"All ready to proceed, Mr Padfoot?" she said militarily.
"Aye, milady," Sirius saluted.
He had used some subtle charms and transfiguration (plus a bit of muggle makeup supplied by Hermione) to make his face and hands appear gaunter and ghostlier than they really were; instead of his usual maroon robes and slippers, he was wearing the same rags that Maximilian had worn for Sirius's "Death Scene". Those were complemented by some translucent chains supplied by the Twins.
Sirius readied himself and Hermione cast a Disillusionment Charm on him. It was intentionally a shoddy job, and the botched invisibility spell made Black just slightly transparent — the perfect result for a ghost. Sirius added a charm on his own to give himself a faint green glow, and then covered himself with Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
With Sirius walking invisible behind her, Hermione then walked out of the Third Floor Corridor to the Feast where Harry, Ron and Maximilian were (she was sure) already gorging themselves with sweets.
While Hermione took her place at the Gryffindor Table and began to taste some of the wizarding sweets that Dumbledore had hand-picked himself, Sirius, all according to plan, made his way to the Head Table, just behind Professor Trelawney.
From the safety of the Cloak, Sirius cast a Confundus Charm on her and then whispered:
"At the strike of lightning, the Marauder shall return…"
Trelawney didn't squeak in surprise (as she doubtless would have without the Confundus), and Sirius repeated the same sentence twice more before dispelling the Confundus.
This had the effect the Marauders had been counting on, as Sybill rose dramatically and loudly repeated the 'prediction' that she had just received.
Professor Dumbledore looked doubtful and winked in Sirius's direction, but it made quite an impression on most of the Hall, especially Professor Trelawney's usual sycophants, starting with Lavender Brown. Professor Snape began to look around fearfully, double-checking all of the foodstuff he'd chosen (none of which included the slightest bit of candy, predictably enough) for poisons and curses.
As nothing happened for a while, however, and with a few calming words from the Headmaster that covertly implied Professor Trelawney hadn't just been drinking pumpkin juice, the Hall calmed down and people started enjoying themselves again.
At the strike of nine o'clock, however, all the floating pumpkins spelled by Professor Flitwick himself went out of control, flying around the room in a veritable Whirlwind of Doom. (Sirius had coined that phrase when thinking up this part.)
Purple-tinged lightning descended from the dark ceiling and struck an apparently empty patch of ground in the middle of the Hall — precisely where Sirius had supposedly died last year.
As the cloud of greenish-purple spoke dissipated, Sirius — cloak off — stood, howling.
"BOOOoooooOooOoOooOoo!"
Once he'd finished his Creepy Wail, which he'd practiced in the soundproof safety of the Corridor, Sirius looked around expectantly, though maintaining a Snape-worthy scowl for his performance's sake.
Obviously, no one quite knew what to make of him. Most of the younger students looked scared, of course, because this was the ghost of Sirius Black. But it didn't look like his Startling Shriek had really helped matters.
Hermione sent him a quick look that spelled 'I told you so' more plainly than an entire scroll of parchment discussing the matter — though Hermione would, of course, be writing that scroll of parchment later on.
After allowing himself a discreet shrug, Sirius moved on to the second part of his plan, wherein he began to monologue while walking wantonly through the room.
"OoOo! I have returned from beyond the graAaAaaAve! FEaAAaR MeEeEEE! Never in HooOoOgwaAarts's HistoOoOry has theEre beEEeeEn a moOore terrrrrible ghoOoOoOst than MEEEEE!"
Looking at the Head Table, Hermione saw Snape pinch himself. Repeatedly. Then check his drink's contents again. Still water? Still water.
The Potions Master began to slowly walk backwards from the table.
"YooOoOuUuu CaAnnNoTt hOoOpe to escAaApe MEEEE!" the Terrible Ghost of Sirius Black wailed at Snape's intention, coming after him, jumping several feet over the Head Table to do so (the Twins' Bouncing Boots really were wonderful things).
Snape whirled around, desperation obvious on his sallow face, and his wand shot out in his hand.
"SKURGE!"
Hermione hadn't anticipated Snape using the Ghost-Banishing Charm at Sirius, but this actually played in their hand. As he was no ghost, Sirius easily absorbed the dark green spell with no adverse effects and continued striding towards Snape, moaning scarily.
Any remaining color drained from Snape's face; the Potions Master allowed himself a yelp as he kicked into the air and flew like a rocket down the corridor to the Dungeons.
The Terrible Ghost of Sirius Black ran after him before taking an unexpected turn into a section of wall, through which he passed effortlessly.
Of course, any Marauder knew that this particular section of wall could be stepped through by anyone who'd come in at least three hours earlier and said 'Strawberry'.
But the average Hogwarts denizen did not know that.
If Hermione hadn't been so busy watching over Operation Ghost Sirius, she might have noticed that the Slytherin Table was somewhat more agitated than one might expect. Rather than spreading out and scaring other students, which was usually their favorite pastime on Halloween, most of the Slytherins had been huddled around Draco Malfoy, conspiring with the blond bully. Naturally, conspiring was something the Slytherins did quite often, but the fact that they were doing it with Draco Malfoy, and while staring right at her at the Gryffindor Table, should have set off all sorts of alarms in Hermione's mind.
But again, however, this was not so.
With Operation Ghost Sirius a success, Hermione and her friends celebrated by biting even more heartily into the sugary Halloween banquet, before retreating to their dorm.
In the Common Room, the Weasley Twins had found the time to put up some enchanted decorations to add to Professor McGonagall's sober orange draperies and pumpkin candleholders. At the forefront was was a large scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head. With Hermione's help, they had scoured the library for the enchantments used in making living statues; at Hermione's insistence, they had been careful not to put the intelligence spells in, but had put the rest to good use.
The result was a little like what a muggle would call an Animatronic — it circled through preprogrammed motions of moving about in scary ways. They had hidden a Remote Reverberator inside the pumpkin-head, allowing George to tell scary stories through the Scarecrow's mouth to frightened and delighted first-years (and to older students who saw right through it but were still delighted) from the safety of the dorms.
It was quite clear no one was going to go to bed until midnight at least, try as Prefect Weasley and Professor McGonagall might; but Hermione was fine with that.
She was a little less okay with a Dementor somehow barging through the door, to the outrage of the Fat Lady.
She had seen taller ones, but the Dementor was still quite fearsome. It wore glistening black robes, was surrounded by a light blue mist, and glided more than it walked. The Dementor took rasping breaths as it slowly walked into the Common Room.
What the Dementor had probably not counting on was immediately being assaulted by a whole lot of Patronuses before anyone even began to wonder how it had gotten here.
The Patronuses didn't seem to be all that aggressive (but then, this was a rather small Dementor), but they still made an effect on the wraith, who began to flee — unfortunately, it was feeling forward rather than backwards, apparently headed for the girls' dormitories.
As the Dementor floated up the stairs and into her dorm, she noted with interest that the stairs hadn't turned into a slide. This finally proved beyond all doubt that Dementors were not male — or at least, that this one wasn't.
After committing this fact to memory, Hermione yelled:
"Lock the door!"
The female Gryffindor Prefect, Anna Mirfield, didn't have to be told twice. She ran up the stairs after the Dementor and bolted the door. Most of the students dispelled their Patronuses with relief, except for Harry, who was the most proficient at the spell and kept his Stag Patronus up to guard the door.
"Alright, that was strange," Hermione commented as everyone regained their bearings. "I don't know what it wants, but if someone could bring Professor Dumbledore or Professor Lupin…?"
Percy Weasley gave a military salute and ran off.
A few minutes later, Professors Lupin and Dumbledore, looking worried and understandably surprised, entered Gryffindor Tower. Their Patronuses were already up —Remus's was a large but tame-look dog or wolf, while Albus's was a Phoenix.
Professor Dumbledore said a few calming words before confidently walking up the stairs to the Girls' Dormitories.
Predictably, they turned into a slide and Dumbledore fell backwards, also knocking Lupin off his feet.
"Ah… yes…" Dumbledore muttered, readjusting his glasses. "I always forget…"
The Headmaster then gripped Professor Lupin's hand and Apparated up the stairs, to the surprise of most everyone, including Lupin.
He then slowly turned the key in the lock and opened the door, to find —
the Dementor, hood off, holding a wand and trying various curses on Hermione's trunk.
"Hey! That's mine!" she said, leaping from behind the two Professors and running at the Dementor.
"Miss Granger, we'll handle this," said Dumbledore, putting a firm hand on her shoulder and pulling her back. "Now, Mr Pike, if you would put an end to this masquerade…"
The Slytherin boy, looking sheepish, pulled off his Dementor gloves, dispelled the modified Modesty Charm keeping the mist around him, and took off his Zonko's Floating Shoes.
"And what exactly was the purpose of this, Mr Pike?" asked Lupin.
"Slytherin secret, werewolf," Bronson Pike answered defiantly.
"You wouldn't be trying to retrieve a certain Dark Artifact in the form of a diary, would you, Mr Pike?" Dumbledore weighed in. "For the record, that is fifteen points from Slytherin House for insulting a teacher."
Pike seemed somewhat stunned that Dumbledore knew about the Diary, but answered:
"I deny anything related to any diary, and that's final."
"Very well, Mr Pike," Dumbledore said sternly, "but that will still be fifty more points from Slytherin House and an hour of detention with your Head of House for breaching another House's Common Room, plus ten more points for looking inside a young lady's private things."
Pike scowled.
"Right, right," he muttered as he began to walk away, "I know the drill. I'll report to Professor Snape tomorrow. Bye."
"Don't leave just yet," Dumbledore added with a smile. "I do not condone your purposes, but I must still, in all fairness, give you twenty points for creative charm work, a costume that is definitely in the spirit of the season, and overall a well-played prank."
Pike didn't know quite what to make of it; he stopped briefly, nodded, and then left Gryffindor Tower for good.
Golden instruments wheezled and twittered and popped; a tacky little plastic statue — a green-skinned figure that was a Muggle's idea of a witch — let out a cackle every now and then to add to the cacophony.
"Alright, so he wanted the Diary," Hermione said, frowning, thinking hard. "Why?"
"From what you tell me," Dumbledore replied, "it must have been Lucius Malfoy's idea, relayed to young Mr Pike by Draco."
"Obviously," Hermione agreed. "But why? Or rather, why now? I made it clear weeks ago to Malfoy that I had the Diary, so why would he act now? Has he been in contact with some other piece of the Turban?"
Dumbledore slouched down on his throne-like chair.
"You… you truly believe he made more?" he said with a strained voice. "More than one of these abominations?!…"
"Yes," Hermione said, wondering what had her Headmaster so bothered. "Why, don't you?"
"I… suspected, I feared so…" answered the sorcerer, "but I hoped with all my heart it was but the delusion of a paranoid mind…"
"I don't have any proof or anything like that, of course," she explained, "but if I decided to create Horcruxes for some reason, then I would most definitely make at least two. Especially if my first one was that Diary."
"Why?" said Dumbledore, regaining his countenance.
"Well, you see," she explained, "I don't know if Riddle intended for Malfoy to set it off, but it's clear that he meant to send out the Diary into the world and have it trick unsuspecting victims. I've had Sirius examine the Diary, and it has several spells on it meant to facilitate possession by the spirit within. Now, if the Turban truly is so pathetically frightened of death as you tell me, he wouldn't gamble with his only safeguard of immortality by making it double as a weapon. He must have at least one more, and probably several. It's only logical."
"But… the cost!…" said Dumbledore, shaken. "Think of the cost!"
"Of course, I think of the cost!" she objected. "You think of the cost! Anyone decent would think of the cost! But if Riddle was so willing to go through it once, why would he be afraid to do it twice? In fact, I'd guess it's a slippery slope. The more damaged his soul is from the previous Horcrux, the less humane he is, and the less reluctant he is to try again. An exponential curve of horror."
Dumbledore swallowed his glass of pumpkin juice in one go.
"In fact," she added with a wry smile, "it probably wouldn't have been a very humane way of doing it, but if we'd left Voldemort alone and active long enough, I have a feeling the problem would have solved itself, because he'd have made one Horcrux too many and ended up with too little soul to function. …So there's that."
"…Yes," said Dumbledore, and he looked distinctly frightened of the mind that had leisurely held this reasoning. "Well, be that as it may, I… don't believe it's likely that another Horcrux is responsible for the Malfoys' actions. …In truth, Hermione, I think you overestimate Draco Malfoy."
"That's… surprising," Hermione said skeptically, "because I think he's an obnoxious nuisance of a schoolyard bully."
"Oh, but you do," Dumbledore said, a smile once more settling on his grandfatherly face; "specifically, you overestimate how much of a Slytherin he is. Given how badly you scared him during your last confrontation, I would not deem it unlikely that it took him a week or two to muster enough courage to tell his father about all of this, and then several weeks more to work out a plan to take the Diary back from you without putting himself in your way."
"Ah, you mean he's a coward," Hermione nodded. "Yes, that would explain it."
She leaned forward to check one of the silvery instruments, which she was pretty sure was actually just a fancy clock hidden in plain sight among the clutter.
"Eleven…" she mused. "Well, I'd best be getting back to the Tower before the party goes too far without me."
"Good evening!" Dumbledore said genially. "And be sure to look out for more attempts on the Diary, one is never too careful."
To: Minister Cornelius Oswald Fudge
Hogwarts Castle, the 1st of November, 1993
Dear Minister Fudge,
I must thank you once again for deigning to ask me for advice. In regards to the issues you raised with your last letter, I will address them in order as usual.
Firstly, and with all due respect, I do not believe that Madam Dolores Umbridge is truly suited to her current position as Senior Undersecretary. I think that the Incident in the Headmaster's Office was enough to prove that she is a little too quick to allow personal grudges to get in the way of true justice to truly fulfill such a high office. If she truly seems so adamant on tightening legislation concerning Centaurs and Alizors, then it seems to me that it is more likely a result of some personal trauma than it is of rational political thought. Do not misunderstand me: I have no personal dislike of Madam Umbridge, indeed, she seems like a friendly enough witch… but alas, being friendly is not enough to be competent. As to her replacement, I will not claim to know your staff better than yourself; I shall merely remind you, should it cross your mind, that I am legally minor, and that Professor Dumbledore does not want the post.
Secondly, Lucius Malfoy was indeed quite generous in Galleons; but please, do not try to reward him for it. He is obviously a philanthropist, and a true philanthropist is always embarrassed to receive repayment for a gift. Of course, he must have smiled and thanked you on previous occasions, but only for the sake of politeness, as he is, of course, an impeccably polite man. Especially considering how much wealth and power he already possesses, any additional gifts must have felt like awkward lily-gilding to him.
And finally, the most recent issue: the ghost of Sirius Black. I would advise against taking action in this matter. A man as busy as you is easily forgiven for forgetting it, but the Absolution Act of 1812 states clearly that a ghost cannot be prosecuted for pre-mortem crimes. Trying to exorcise Sirius Black on the grounds of his past actions would be a clear breach of the treaty, and thus a diplomatic misstep. Remember that the Irish Ministry has always taken ghost interests to heart; going after Black might make relations with them tenser than they have any need to be. Your worries about the students' safety are naturally commendable, but as a student myself, I can testify that I am not at all worried about the ghost of Sirius Black. The most he can do is look scary and wail, which has never been a crime, nor any sort of danger. Remember, you, a Slytherin, that the House Ghost of Slytherin is also a rather creepy murderer, and yet there has never been any attempt to displace him.
Your young friend and admirer,
Hermione Jean Granger