Chapter 36 "Happy Halloween"

This year's Halloween dinner at Hogwarts was lively. The Great Hall was filled with pumpkin-headed lanterns specially made by Hagrid, and black bats made of magic flew around under the ceiling.

It's just that the ghosts in the castle did not appear on Halloween. Today is not only Halloween but also the 500th Deathday of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

A day like this is a big day to remember with every ghost, so Nick invites his ghost colleagues from Hogwarts and other ghost friends outside the school. After obtaining Dumbledore's permission, he borrowed a basement classroom in the castle and held his 500th birthday dinner.

Therefore, the ghosts who should have been wandering around at the Halloween dinner in previous years did not appear in the Great Hall tonight.

Rumor has it that Principal Dumbledore will invite a skeleton band to perform for everyone tonight. But rumors are rumors, after all. After the students came to the Great Hall, they did not see the so-called skeleton band.

But even without the ghost and skeleton band, Halloween is still a holiday that students love to celebrate.

The dishes and meals at the dinner were more abundant than those opening dinner. After the dinner, every student could still get plentiful candies. This caught a lot of attention from the junior students.

"What did that Slughorn say to you last time, Sherlock?" Hagrid asked at the professor's table.

Hearing his question, Sherlock hadn't replied yet. But Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick couldn't help but frown.

"Hagrid, Don't ask him about this kind of thing," Professor McGonagall said with a displeased expression, "We don't need to ask about their private matters."

Hagrid came to his senses at this time, scratched his hair in embarrassment, and smirked, "Oh, Sorry. I tend to be so clumsy like this even after a few drinks."

Sherlock waved his hand, took out the pendant hanging on his chest, and said, "There's nothing important. He just gave me a small bottle of Felix Felicis."

In the small potion bottle, the liquid is indeed like a work of art, shining brightly under the reflection of the candlelight.

A cold and hollow voice suddenly sounded from the side, "That kind of potion is very troublesome in the making process. If a little mistake is made, there will be irreversible consequences for the drinker. It's impressive that he made it perfectly."

It was Snape. He rarely joined the professors' chat, but his tone was still cold as if he was deliberately picking on things.

Sherlock put the potion back and nodded, "At least he's a lot more generous than you, Professor Snape. We've known each other for so long, and I haven't seen you give me anything."

When he said this, Snape was speechless for a while. Professor McGonagall still had that serious face, but the corners of her mouth were slightly curved. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout didn't hide it and laughed on the spot.

Even Dumbledore said with a smile on his face, "Horace is only generous to you. I have been in a relationship with him for almost seventy years, and I haven't even gotten any Christmas gift from him."

Then he looked at Snape teasingly again and blinked, "Of course, I haven't received it from Severus."

Snape snorted coldly and said firmly, "And I never forgot anyone on Christmas."

Dumbledore laughed, "Well, it doesn't matter. We all celebrate Halloween today. How about a drink together?"

Every professor at the table, including Snape, raised the glass together.

"Happy Halloween." said all the professors.

"Happy Halloween." Sherlock shrugged secretly.

They drank the wine. It has been two months since he came to Hogwarts. During this time, Sherlock discovers that Dumbledore is the icon of this school.

Not only did the students trust their principal, but even all the professors greatly respected him. Or maybe because Dumbledore has absolute authority in Hogwarts, and this authority makes everyone listen to his words very well.

He secretly mumbled something in his heart. No wonder the original Sherlock had a high admiration for him.

He has never had a complete family since he was a child. He has always regarded Hogwarts as his second home, so he respects someone who was the head of this school.

Meanwhile, the teachers and students in the Great Hall were enjoying the dinner happily. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not so much.

The Deathday dinner really isn't something that living people can participate in. The gloomy atmosphere, the spooky and dreadful music, and the so-called "food" at the dinner were not something that Harry and others could eat.

They barely survived the entire dinner and finally decided to return to the normal Halloween dinner in the Great Hall after the ghosts of the Headless Hunt messed up the party.

"I hope there is some pudding left for us." Ron wrapped his robe tightly.

They tried their best to show their smiles to the ghosts around them and walked out of the dinner just as they were running toward the Great Hall.

A familiar, cold, murderous voice can be heard in Harry's ears again.

"Torn... I will... kill you..."

Harry was startled, and he stopped subconsciously. Hermione and Ron found out about his behavior and could not help asking.

"What's the matter, Harry?"

Harry leaned against the wall, telling them to stop talking, and tried to find the source of the voice. Fortunately, the voice did not disappear directly this time but became weaker. Harry was sure the voice was moving upward. He stared at the ceiling with a sudden feeling of terror.

He took Hermione and Ron up the stairs, climbed to the second floor, looked at all the corridors on the second floor, turned a corner, and came to the last empty corridor.

Just when Ron was panting and about to ask Harry what was happening, Hermione pointed forward.

"Look!"

Something was written on the wall in front of them.

They approached slowly, squinting and carefully identifying the writing in the darkness. Between the two windows, on the wall a foot above the ground, something was smeared over it.

[THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED]

[ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.]

Right next to these writings, a boy was as hard as a stone lying on the ground.