October passed much as September had, with the addition of wet to the cloudy skies. Hermione missed the calmer weather – she'd enjoyed going out in the courtyard to study or talk, and she didn't know a good enough water-repellent spell to work as an umbrella to risk it.

The professors were all steadily increasing their workload. It seemed they all had greater expectations on them now that they were second years, and they were being treated accordingly. Hermione didn't mind – the essays the teachers assigned were good review for her, and she was learning new things all the time as she researched to complete them. Hermione had always enjoyed meeting or exceeding her professors' expectations, and she was pleased to get professors' positive comments back when their homework was returned.

Snape never gave positive comments on her essays. There were notes scrawled in the margins occasionally, questioning why she hadn't considered the Even Distribution Principle or why she didn't account for the origin of fluxweed, but Hermione knew by now that she was the only one to get such comments – the Even Distribution Principle wasn't even taught until O.W.L. year, she had found when she looked it up.

The most positive thing she'd gotten from Snape so far had been a raised eyebrow and a dry, "Do try to keep your footnotes to a reasonable number next time, Miss Granger." She had flushed a brilliant red as she took her essay back, a "100" marked at the top in red. Hermione had heard Ron hiss to Harry from across the room, demanding to know what a footnote was, and Snape had docked him points for whispering in class.

Hermione was all too aware of her desire to prove herself to Snape. Part of it was that her other teachers so often commended her and recognized her skills and abilities, awarding her points in class, where Snape did not. After class, when critiquing her and Theo's potions, he would sometimes award points for clever thinking or innovation, but never in front of her classmates. Snape seemed to use points more as a weapon than a teaching tool like the other professors; he often awarded Slytherin points more to enrage the Gryffindors than to recognize a Slytherin's contributions as valuable.

But another part of it was Hermione's deep sense of embarrassment and shame. Her head of house had called her a fool for doing the ritual she had, trying to jumpstart her period. Even though it ended up being mostly a positive (Hermione was desperately trying not to think about what might happen to her magic when she did get her period properly), she knew that she'd been overconfident in her ambition.

Hermione looked up to Snape, and she desperately wanted to earn his high regard back.

By the time Halloween rolled around, all the second years were ready for a break. Hermione had heard rumors that the Great Hall had been decorated with live bats and enormous carved pumpkins, and she couldn't help but be excited. She'd missed the feast last year, crying in the bathroom, and she was looking forward to the experience.

When she'd asked Harry, Neville, and Ron if they were excited, though, she'd gotten an unexpected reaction – Harry had groaned, Neville laughed, and Ron shot Harry a venomous look.

"We're– we're not going," Harry said. "We've been invited to a different party."

"A different party?" Hermione questioned carefully. The only other celebrations she knew about were those celebrating the downfall of Voldemort. Given the death of Harry's parents and Harry's unease with his fame, she would be surprised if Harry opted to go to one of those.

"Nearly Headless Nick's 500th Deathday party is today," Harry said dully. "I agreed to go."

"Harry's being overly nice to a ghost," Ron grumbled, "'cause he got his feelings hurt for his head not getting cut off all the way."

"We're being supportive friends to Harry," Neville told Ron, giving him a look. "We're also showing support for our House ghost. Solidarity is important, Ron."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said, waving him off. "But still."

The idea of going to a party for a House ghost was distinctly odd to Hermione. The Bloody Baron, the Slytherin house ghost, was around, sure, and he was certainly a ghost, but… it wasn't like she'd ever talked to him. He just kind of lurked around, silently pointing lost Slytherin first years in the correct direction if they got really lost.

She didn't even know why he was covered in blood, come to think of it. And yet, from the sound of it, the Gryffindors were friends with their house ghost.

"At least it sounds interesting?" Hermione offered. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those."

"Probably for good reason," Ron said, and Neville elbowed him sharply, looking annoyed.


When seven o'clock finally rolled around, Hermione went to dinner with the rest of her House, only to stop short in the doorway and gasp.

The Great Hall had been transformed.

Hermione had expected the live bats, having been warned, but she hadn't realized just how enormous the pumpkins would be. They looked like they were big enough for three adults to comfortably stand up inside, and Hermione wondered how large the seeds had been and just how much pumpkin goop had been dumped into the Forbidden Forest when Hagrid was carving them out.

The hall had been decorated in orange and gold, which Hermione thought looked good – much better than orange and black, at any rate. There were dancing skeletons at the front of the hall, which prompted gasps from the first years and a discussion amongst the Ravenclaws on the ethics of making skeletons dance.

"I mean, it's not as if they're alive," Terry argued, "so how could they agree to make fools of themselves like this?"

"If they're not alive, what's it matter?" Michael Corner shot back. "Some wizard dug up a few graves and charmed the bones. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal, Corner, is the precept of Bodily Integrity, not that I would expect you to know that…"

Their argument trailed off as they went to the Ravenclaw table, Hermione making her way over to the Slytherin table instead.

"How can the skeletons have bodily integrity if they don't have a body?" Blaise quipped, and Tracey and Millie snickered, while Hermione considered.

"It's a legitimate question, though," she said. "Whose skeletons are they?"

"They're probably not even real," Theo said, joining the conversation. "They're likely transfigured. Dumbledore and Flitwick probably set it up together."

"You think?" Tracey asked, frowning. "I heard Dumbledore booked a troupe of them."

"Nah," Theo said, dismissive. "Think about the logistics – enchanting dead bodies or dead body parts is necromancy. Even if you're not doing anything illegal, there's no way a wizard like Dumbledore would ever hire someone who performed genuine necromancy."

"Do people do that?" Hermione said, astonished. "Necromancy?"

"Dark wizards," Theo said, shrugging. "Most of it is very illegal. The Dark Lord was known for making armies of inferi – that's when you enchant a dead body to move and obey you."

Tracey shuddered, while Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"How does that even work?" she wanted to know. "Bodies are in various states of decay, and the decay wouldn't stop just because they were magically animated, would it? Did the bodies just wander about, losing limbs as they went?"

Theo gave her an odd look while Blaise laughed.

"Trust Hermione not to be horrified by the idea of an army of inferi, but by the hygiene and logistics of it all," he laughed, nudging her, and Hermione flushed red.

"I was just saying," she objected. "It just doesn't seem very logical."

Theo was still giving her an odd look.

"I think he mostly used the fresh corpses of those he killed," he said finally. "Killing curse, dead body, inferi. Though I was an infant when all this was happening, so it's not as if I actually know."

"I'm glad we've only got skeletons," Tracey piped in. "I can handle silly dancing bones, but I don't want some dead body dancing near my food."

As they all settled in, the skeletons finished up their dance number and danced out of the way and over to the sides of the hall, some of the students applauding as they did. Dumbledore stood and clapped his hands. The Hall fell silent as Dumbledore looked out over them all, beaming.

"Happy Halloween!" he said, gesturing grandly. He was wearing purple robes with a pattern of orange pumpkins with bright orange piping. "I hope everyone is having an excellent Halloween so far."

"I was until I saw that crime against fashion," Daphne murmured, and Hermione and the other Slytherin girls stifled a snicker.

"We have several special events planned for tonight," Dumbledore continued. "In addition to our evening's dancing entertainment, we have a pumpkin carving competition and bobbing for apples! If you'd like to participate, please come forward, and the prefects will help arrange everyone into lines. Now, please – enjoy the feast!"

The golden platters on the tables all filled with food, and there was a murmur through the hall before everyone began to eat.

The food was very good, and Hermione took delight in filling her plate with some of her favorites. There was goose, rooster, and lamb on large platters, roasted or braised to perfection, and there was an assortment of sweet breads, roasted hazelnuts, and several apple and pumpkin dishes.

It was only when Hermione realized that there were also baskets of raw apples about the tables that she began to wonder.

"Who plans this feast?" Hermione asked.

"The Headmaster," Theo answered. "Isn't it obvious? He loves Halloween."

"Not the event itself," Hermione said. "Just the feast itself. Who decides what food we're served?"

Theo looked at her quizzically. "No idea. Why? Does it matter?"

"It's just…" Hermione gestured. "These are all traditional foods for Samhain. Not ones for Halloween."

There was an abrupt hush around her, Theo and Draco turning to her panicked.

"You cannot say that!" Theo hissed. "It is not spoken about anymore!"

"That's been branded as a Dark festival," Draco said quickly, his eyes darting about. "The Dark Lord would celebrate it with his followers."

"So?" Hermione challenged. "I'm sure lots of people celebrated it. It's the traditional holiday for today, not this Halloween nonsense–"

"He celebrated it very traditionally with his followers," Draco emphasized. "It wasn't just goose and lamb they sacrificed, Hermione."

Hermione stopped as she realized. She began to feel vaguely ill.

"That's… that's horrendous," she said, appetite gone. "Why would they…?"

Theo shrugged.

"I suspect it started with a surplus of alcohol and a lot of anger and bloodlust," he said, taking a pumpkin pastry for himself. "It probably evolved from there. I suspect many of the Death Eaters happily seized on any excuse to go out and murder muggles."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Still, though," she said. "These foods… who planned them, if not the Headmaster?"

They all considered silently for a moment, eating quietly.

"Do you think the House Elves?" Tracey ventured.

Millie nodded. "That would make sense. If anyone would keep the traditions, it would be them."

Theo looked torn.

"…I find it hard to believe that the Headmaster would condone celebrating that festival, even subtly," he said. "But the evidence is right here."

"Maybe the Headmaster doesn't know," Blaise said, shrugging.

"How would he not know, Zabini?" Theo snapped. "He's eating along with the rest of us, isn't he?"

"Maybe they've got different food up at the front," Blaise suggested. "Not hard to arrange for fancier food for the staff, is it? And it'd go completely without suspicion. How much attention do you think the professors pay to what the students eat?"

Hermione looked thoughtful.

"That's very possible," she said. "Of course, there's only one way to check that."

"What?" Draco wanted to know.

Hermione offered him a smirk. "Someone would have to go up and check."

"Oh, like that's not suspicious," Theo snorted.

"It's not suspicious," Hermione said, "if they're participating in one of the Halloween activities."

There was a pause.

"Oh, hell no," Blaise said immediately. "Not it. I refuse."

Theo looked ill, but Draco smirked.

"Goyle," he said. "Come here."

Gregory Goyle stood obligingly and came down the table. He and Vincent Crabbe had been sitting next to a third-year boy who had been arm wrestling with them.

"What," he grunted.

"I need you and Crabbe to go and do bobbing for apples," Draco told him. "When you go up to try, pay attention to what all the professors are eating at the head table. I want to know every dish they're having."

Greg had been nodding along, but he froze at this.

"That's a lot to remember," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"It's food to remember," he said. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Crabbe'll help you, anyway. Now go."

Obedient, Greg lumbered off, stopping to talk to and get Vincent, before the two of them went up to the front of the Great Hall. Six sets of Slytherin eyes watched them as they went.

"Snape looks miffed," Blaise observed. "I bet he didn't want any of his Slytherins participating in this farce."

Hermione took a lamb chop as she watched the two attempt to be subtle while looking at the food on the head table, taking turns dunking their heads in a bucket.

"Just think of how many nasty mouths went into that water," Tracey said, making a face. "Gryffindor saliva bits just floating around."

Millie gagged. "Thanks for that image, Tracey."

"Well, I was just saying…"

When the two boys returned, it was with dripping heads and damp robes.

"I got a green apple," Vince told Draco. "Greg got a red one."

They held up their apples triumphantly, each apple scarred with multiple teeth marks.

"…and?" Draco said impatiently. "What did they have at the head table?"

"Oh," Greg said. "There was a lot of food."

Draco groaned and thunked his head off the table, but Greg began counting, wrenching up his face.

"Wrapped sausages in pastries, venison, some kind of beef," he said, ticking off on his fingers. "Candied apples, butternut squash soup, some kind of potato patty, and decorated cookies."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "There was no lamb or goose?" she questioned. "Or apples?"

"Only apples were dipped in caramel," Vince confirmed. "No lamb or goose. No nuts, either."

Hermione exchanged a significant look with Theo and Draco, who looked conflicted.

"Good job, mates," Draco said. "Thanks. You can go sit down."

Greg and Vince went to sit back down, each still holding a scarred apple from their bout in the bobbing bucket.

"So the professors don't get the same foods we do," Hermione murmured, "which means the House Elves are keeping the Samhain traditions alive without the Headmaster knowing."

Theo looked considering, while Draco's eyes lit.

"Do you think they have a bonfire somewhere?" he asked. "I've always wanted to participate in a bonfire."

"Are you really going to go down and celebrate with the House Elves?" Theo said, aghast. "Malfoy, really-"

"No. But if they have one somewhere, and I can find it, we can use it without the ruddy elves there–"

Hermione tuned their bickering out, considering the implications of this as she munched on hazelnuts.

If the House Elves were acting independently of the Headmaster in this matter, going against his wishes and taking efforts to deliberately deceive him…

How much loyalty to the Headmaster did they actually hold?