CW: Mention of necrophilia
The Great Hall was decorated for Halloween, with hundreds of jack-o-lanterns floating around the hall. Hermione wondered if they used the same candles inside the pumpkins that they did for general meals, and if so, who would have the sorry job of rinsing hundreds of candles free of pumpkin guts after the feast. There was also a cloud of fluttering live bats, as well as flaming orange streamers that twisted and swam across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.
Dumbledore had dressed up for Halloween, too – he wore bright orange robes with stark black piping and a matching pointed hat, and there was a little pumpkin embroidered over the breast of his robes.
"Isn't it grand?" Tracey said. She elbowed Hermione sharply. "Isn't the Halloween feast just the best, Hermione?"
"Yes, Tracey," Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes. "Everything is lovely."
Blaise turned to shoot Hermione a quizzical look, clearly hearing the annoyance in her voice, but Hermione shook her head. Here wasn't the place to discuss the matter – especially not right next to Tracey.
The food was delicious, as always. Hermione quietly noted that, again, the House Elves had served the students different food than they'd served the Head table – or at least, they'd served the Slytherins the traditional Samhain dishes. She wondered if they served the same ones to the Gryffindors, who she suspected were less likely to appreciate their meaning.
Tracey kept up a chatty stream of banter with the table, engaging everyone about where they'd gone in Hogsmeade and what they'd done. Nearly everyone had gone to all the same places, but a few people had ventured beyond the usual few stops.
"A hag?" Pansy said shrilly.
"A hag," Theo said, nodding. He grinned at her. "Terrified?"
"Hardly," Pansy sniffed. "I just don't think it's likely that there would be a hag strolling around Hogsmeade in open daylight."
"That's what the Hog's Head is for, though, isn't it?" Draco commented, smirking. "Give all the trash a place to drink so they leave the rest of us alone?"
Hermione was vaguely aware that the Hog's Head was Hagrid's favorite drinking place to haunt in Hogsmeade. He'd won his dragon egg there playing cards, if she recalled correctly.
"What was she eating?" Hermione challenged. "What did she look like?"
Theo's face scrunched up as he tried to remember. As Hermione waited, she realized Theo had changed his robes, too – he was in black velvet robes as well.
"She was short and kind of hunched over. I only knew she was a hag from the warts and gnarled fingers," Theo said. "Her teeth were horrible, too. I don't think she was eating anything, though, really – just drinking ale."
"Could you see her boots on the bar stool?" Hermione asked. "If she was so short?"
Theo's eyes flared in understanding, and he shot Hermione a smirk.
"She didn't wear boots," he informed her. "She was barefoot – with four warty toes on each."
Hermione grinned back at him, before turning to Pansy.
"It was a real hag, then," Hermione told her. She paused. "Kind of an unfortunate omen to see today, really."
"Dark creatures tend to come out more on Halloween," Millie pointed out. "At least she left everyone alone."
As they ate, Hermione's eyes scanned the table, curious.
Theo had changed since the afternoon, also wearing black velvet robes. Hermione suspected it was a deliberate choice – one did not wear velvet to dinner accidentally, not when stains were so much more easily prevented on silk or linen – much like her own choice was. Blaise wasn't wearing black velvet robes, but he too had changed – into a dark, blood-red set of robes that set off his skin dramatically in the candlelight. She wondered if that held meaning, too.
As she looked down the Slytherin table, she saw a few others, a couple of whom she recognized. Peter Selwyn was in black velvet, as were Alexia Rosier and Damon Rowle, to her consternation. The Carrow twins, Hestia and Flora, were both wearing black velvet as well, but that was as far down the table as she could see.
Brilliant, she thought, sitting back with a sigh. Everyone who had wanted to honor Samhain quietly was from a Dark family, except Peter Selwyn, maybe. She didn't really know much about him.
She was surprised to see that many people she might expect to honor the holiday had not – Draco Malfoy, for one, was in the same robes he'd worn to Hogsmeade, as was Daphne Greengrass. Millicent Bulstrode and Marcus Flint were also Sacred 28, but neither of them had worn anything special either. Maybe it wasn't so much pureblood heritage, then, Hermione mused, but traditions passed from family to family.
Still. She wondered.
The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding, complete with Nearly Headless Nick reenacting his own botched beheading. Hermione had laughed and clapped along with the rest, musing to herself at how long they must have practiced to pull off such choreography. Though, she thought with wry amusement, there weren't exactly many demands on the ghosts' time.
After the feast, the Slytherins returned to the dungeons comfortably full and content. No one seemed to want to retire so soon after the feast, and soon an impromptu storytelling circle had popped up around the central fire, older students taking turns telling scary stories they had heard. Hermione joined the circle, sliding in to sit on the armrest of a chair that already had two people squeezed into it.
Scary storytelling in Slytherin was very different than it would be for the rest of the school, Hermione mused. Other houses, she suspected, probably told tales similar to muggle scary stories.
Slytherin's approach was somewhat different.
Or more gory, at least.
"…And after she had been rebuffed three times, she determined that if she could not have him, no one could have him," an older boy said, grinning out wickedly over them all. "Her mind made up, she cast the Killing Curse, and he fell over, dead."
The group of them murmured, shifting.
"But that was not the worst of it," the boy continued, lowering his voice, his eyes glinting. "Determined to have what she wanted, she took him into the lowest dungeons, where it was very cold, and kept him there. There, she used a very Dark spell upon the body, a Priapus charm, and she took what she wanted anyway."
The older students gasped, looks of revulsion on their faces. Hermione made a mental note to look up the charm.
"Soon enough, when a babe began to grow in her belly—"
Hermione had a sudden idea of what the Priapus charm must have done.
"—the witch could tell something was wrong. Instead of feeling a kicking in her womb, there was a scratching sensation, like claws tearing her apart from the inside. When the time came to birth the child, the witch was horrified to feel her womb not pushing her child down and out, but forward, and the child tore its way to freedom through the witch's stomach, even as she screamed and blood poured down her sides."
Not exactly a typical Cesarean section, Hermione mused in cynical amusement, as her classmates gagged and gasped around her.
"When the witch regained enough of her senses about her, she was horrified to see that her daughter, covered in blood, was eating her own afterbirth, having tied off and cut her cord herself. Her daughter's eyes gleamed at her with evil, and the witch promptly fainted, overcome at what she had borne into the world."
"And ever since then," the boy continued, looking over his audience ominously, "there have been hags in the world – evil, twisted creatures who consume human flesh and children, borne of the Dark magic used upon the dead. For in the hag's creation, the witch had used to the dead to create new life, and so hags must constantly consume the dead in order to prolong their own cursed lives."
His last words hung ominously in the air, the firelight flickering behind him.
"Hags can hide in the world without you knowing they're there," he told them, his eyes dark. "A hag could be that witch behind you in line at the sweet shop. A hag could be anyone you pass by in an alleyway. And a hag can sneak into your house while you sleep, creeping up on you, and—"
The common room door opened suddenly, and several of the first years screamed.
"It's a hag!" one girl shrieked.
"I don't want to die!" a boy yelled, trying to flee.
Several others began screaming and crying loudly, and Hermione was immensely amused to see the vaguely confused and disgusted expression quickly forming on Professor Snape's face as he took in the scene around him.
"All students are to spend the night in the Great Hall tonight," he announced loudly, and there was a sudden hush at his words. He glared at them. "You have five minutes to get what you need and be back here promptly. There are to be no questions at this time."
Hermione exchanged a shocked look with Blaise and Millie. Spend the night in the Great Hall?
Snape glowered at them all, who were still standing motionless at his pronouncement.
"What are you waiting for?" he snapped. "Go!"
There was a mad scramble for the dormitories, and Hermione rushed into her room to quickly change herself.
"It's got to be some kind of attack, doesn't it?" Daphne was saying to Pansy, when Hermione got there. "If they're putting everyone in one place, it's so they have fewer places to guard, isn't it?"
"If it is, Dumbledore is going to look bad," Pansy pointed out, smirking. "Third year in a row with the students in danger…"
"Hope it's not a basilisk or troll again," Millie said cynically. "Maybe we'll be lucky and it'll just be an army of Inferi."
Daphne and Pansy shot Millie a disgusted look, and she gave them an oily smile back.
Hermione threw her pajamas on and grabbed her pillow and her wand. She considered taking Tom Riddle's diary with her to drain her magic into, before deciding it wasn't worth the risk. Instead, she took the extra minute to hide it in the trunk with Quirrell's things, healing her hand a moment after it demanded blood of her. If the professors were going to be investigating something and searching the school, it would be catastrophic if they found Riddle's diary.
Snape was gone when they returned; Jade Rince, the Head Girl stood at the doorway instead, her eyes peering out over everyone, her face a mask of stone.
"Is everyone here?" she demanded. "Let's go."
Jade led everyone back up to the Great Hall, where the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs already were. Most of the students looked wide-eyed and confused, but Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry and Neville looking serious and grave, and she quickly made her way over to them. By the time she got there, Susan Bones was there as well, and Hermione realized Blaise had followed her over too.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked Harry, her eyes worriedly scanning his. "What's happening?"
Harry's expression was dark. "They're looking for Sirius Black."
Hermione's jaw fell open. "What?"
"If I might have your attention, please," Dumbledore called out over the hall, as the last of the Ravenclaws finished filing in. "The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle. I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here."
Hermione could see Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick closing the giant doors into the hall. The other teachers were all assembled nearby, looking grave.
"I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall, and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," Dumbledore added, looking at Jade and Percy. Jade looked deadly serious, while Percy looked immensely proud and important, and Hermione was struck at the sharp difference between them.
"Send word with one of the ghosts," Dumbledore instructed them. He paused. "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"
One casual wave of his wand sent the long house tables flying to the edges of the hall and standing themselves up against the walls; another wave and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, and Hermione watched as he and the rest of the teachers left the hall, closing the door once more behind them.
Immediately the hall began to buzz excitedly with the Gryffindors telling the rest of the school what had just happened. Hermione dragged Harry and her friends over to a corner to talk, and she was amused to see that Luna had joined them during Dumbledore's little speech – her entire coven was here, now.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
After they arranged themselves in a little group, Neville and Ron nearby to Harry, the Gryffindors explained what happened.
"The Fat Lady's painting was all torn," Ron said, his eyes serious. "Just shredded, really – no one could find her, so we couldn't get in. Peeves was around, mocking us, and Dumbledore asked him what he'd seen of the attack."
"And it was Black," Harry said, his voice grim. "It was Sirius Black, who had gotten very angry when she wouldn't let him into the common room without the password and attacked her canvas."
"That's mad," Susan breathed, horrified. "Absolutely mad."
"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Neville worried anxiously.
"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," pointed out Ron.
"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," Susan said. "The one night you weren't all in the tower…"
"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."
Hermione and Blaise exchanged a glance.
"I doubt that," Hermione said slowly. "Black's a Dark wizard, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "So?"
"A Dark wizard isn't likely to not know which night is Halloween," Hermione said. She paused. "If anything, he might have broken in because it was Halloween."
"I think you're pronouncing that wrong, Hermione," Luna said, her voice chiming. Hermione shot Luna a pointed look, and Luna gave her an impish grin back.
"What, Halloween?" Ron looked baffled.
Blaise rolled his eyes.
"No, Weasley," Blaise said. He lowered his voice. "She means that tonight is Samhain."
Ron and Harry looked puzzled, but Neville went as white as a sheet, and Susan's eyes widened dramatically.
"Merlin, I'd forgotten," she said, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. "That's right, it is. Do you think that's how he got into the castle?"
"Could be," Blaise said darkly. "It'd make sense, wouldn't it?"
"Excuse me," Ron said crossly, "but what is Samhain?"
"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hushed. She opened her mouth to explain, but Neville beat her to it.
"It's an old, Dark festival," he said, shuddering. "Dark wizards sacrificed animals, and people and used Dark magic on this day. It's said that You-Know-Who celebrated Samhain with his Death Eaters every year, and it was on one of these days that he first raised his army of Inferi."
Ron's eyes were huge.
"And people still celebrate it?" he said. "That's mad."
Hermione was frowning, and she could see Harry notice her frown.
"You think Black used Dark magic he got from a Samhain ritual to break into the castle?" Harry asked.
"Possibly," Blaise said, shrugging. "None of us are Dark magicians – we'd hardly know what's possible, would we?"
Hermione was thinking hard. Barriers between worlds were thinner on magical festival days, and the barrier between the living and the dead was at its thinnest on Samhain. Neemey had said humans could pass through the ley lines on four of the festivals – on the solstices and the equinoxes – and Hermione remembered reading that the Fae rode in the human world on Beltane and Samhain. Did that mean the other four magical holidays of the year, the Fae got free passage through the barriers between the worlds?
Unless Black was part Fae, though, Hermione didn't think that would hugely help him. Unless he knew how to 'pop' and travel by ley line into the school, and the Fae ignored him because they were out riding tonight…
She paused. Could you travel by ley line outside of Hogwarts and go into and through the Hogwarts wards? Or did they block travel as well, and you could only 'pop' around inside the wards?
It was worth finding out.
Or was the barrier between Hogwarts and not-Hogwarts just thinner on this night, too?
"…dementors guarding every single entrance to the grounds," Neville was saying. "They'd have seen him fly in, they'd have seen through a disguise…"
"And Filch knows all the secret passages, so they'll have had them covered too," Ron added.
"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"
The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. The whispering quieted significantly, and after a time, Hermione put her head up and glanced around, looking to see who was awake.
Harry's bright green eyes met hers immediately, and Hermione could see Luna's blue eyes looking at her too. A glance confirmed that Blaise and Susan were also awake, looking anticipatory, and Hermione carefully checked to look at Neville and Ron – both of whom were facing the other way and asleep, one of them snoring softly.
Quietly, Hermione slid out of her sleeping bag. She gestured to Blaise to do the same, which he did, to his confusion. The others did the same, and once everyone was out, Hermione silently levitated the sleeping bags over them, giving them a hidden place underneath the sleeping bags to hide and talk, so long as everyone stayed flat and stretched out.
"We have to be quiet," Hermione whispered, as Luna conjured a handful of bluebell flames, "but this should work for now."
Harry was grim.
"Black attacked Gryffindor tower," he said, his voice low. "He was probably going to lie in wait for me to stab me when I slept, maybe to make as a Dark offering for Samhain."
Luna stifled a giggle, and Harry shot her a dark look.
"Samhain isn't like that," Hermione said plaintively, her voice quiet but pained. "He'd have had to make the offering first in order to break in. But listen, please. It's not really a Dark festival."
Susan's eyes met Hermione's, doubtful. "Are you sure?"
"It's not," Hermione stressed. "Listen."
Quietly, Hermione explained to her coven what she'd learned about magical holidays and festivals so far – mainly, how the veils between realms were thinner, and how more ambient magic was about, allowing rituals to harness more power than they could on other days. She pointed out how they'd united as a coven on Beltane, the opposite holiday of Samhain.
"It's the time when the harvest is done, and the earth's bounty goes dormant for the winter," she whispered. "It's a time to honor the dead, who are rumored to visit when the veils are thinnest here, and a time to put things to rest. Sacred fires are put out, then carefully relit, and offerings made to magic. None of it is inherently Dark – it's just a day where particular types of rituals might have more power."
"What kind of rituals?" Harry wanted to know.
Hermione pondered for a moment.
"Rituals of sundering, of breaking bonds," she said quietly. "Anything of destruction, to bring something to an end."
"Like a ritual to break through the wards?" Harry asked.
Blaise laughed softly.
"Potter, if the wards of Hogwarts had fallen," he whispered, eyes gleaming, "you'd have known."
"Black could have done something, though," Susan whispered. "There's no denying that – if his family practiced the Old Ways, he'd have known how to make an offering and harness that power, and he could have used that to break in."
"He could have," Hermione agreed softly. "But that doesn't mean the day itself is inherently bad. Don't get me wrong – Sirius Black could have definitely used today and its power to his advantage – but that doesn't mean everything to do with Samhain is evil or Dark."
Harry looked to Luna.
"Are you worried at all about any of this?" he muttered.
"No," Luna said, smiling faintly.
"Why not?" Harry demanded.
Luna tilted her head, blue eyes unblinking. "It's not time to worry yet."
That was as clear of an answer as they were likely to get from Luna, Hermione figured, but it was still reassuring. If now wasn't the time to worry, presumably, Luna would know when it would be time to panic and freak out.
Hopefully.
"If nothing else, Harry, we all have our rings," Susan reassured him. If your life is in danger, we'll know it, and we'll come to your aid."
Harry looked slightly bolstered by this. "Thanks."
Eventually they put out the flames and carefully crawled back into their sleeping bags, not wanting to risk gossipping for too long and get caught out of bed. Hermione laid awake for a long time, staring up at the sky and the silvery ghosts, wondering.
If Black had broken in purposefully on Samhain, he would have known where everyone was; it wasn't as if you couldn't hear the noise from the feast in Great Hall from the Entrance Hall. And yet, he'd gone up to Gryffindor tower anyway, either to lie in wait for Harry, or for some other reason.
While it could be the former, Luna's utter nonchalance and dismissal of the possibility made Hermione suspect the latter. For some reason, Black had wanted to break into the Gryffindor Tower, independent of where Harry was at the time.
She fell asleep restlessly, the possibilities still turning over and over again in her mind.