9 Chapter 8: The Wheel Turns

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I grunted, pulling myself up until my chin was nestled firmly above the bar, my arms shaking from exertion. With each pull-up, the burning in my limbs grew, but there was something oddly cathartic about it.

Pain is weakness leaving the body, eh?

Even under the blissful strain of working out, I managed to chuckle a little. Though as I did so, my damp fingers slipped off the bar and I yelped, bracing myself to fall properly. My feet thudded against the stone floor, but I was otherwise unhurt.

"Bloody hell…" I cursed. Despite my legs begging me to stay, I jumped up to grasp the bar tightly once more. "Alright, one more time…"

Over and over again I pulled myself up and down, relishing in the soreness my muscles felt. In some way, it both centered and assured me that progress—however small it was—was being made. Once I was done with my set of pull-ups, I hopped down and walked over to the weight training bench to finish off the last few exercises I had left.

By the time I'd finished, my entire body was pulsing and my limbs felt like jelly. I couldn't help but have a self-satisfied grin across my face. Hogwarts itself was the biggest cheat imaginable for me. I had access to nutritious food, a pretty good magical education, and a room that facilitated all of my needs.

What wasn't there to love?

Talking about the room, I'd found that on top of copying the things in the castle, if your needs were attainable via Transfiguration, then it'd fulfil them. Hence my current training room.

After a quick shower, I slipped on my robes with a grateful sigh and tied my wand holster into place.

"Tempus." I muttered, twirling my wand clockwise.

The Tempus Charm was one that I'd found in the Charms book I'd repaired in my first lesson. It was a Charm that told the time, and it had an alarm variant— something that I was grateful for. My only complaint was the fact that I couldn't change the alarm to something less… Ear piercing. Perhaps that was something I could try and tinker around with someday, I thought, tying my watch around my wrist.

"Ten minutes till breakfast." I muttered, spinning on my heel. "Better head back to the common room before everyone heads off without me."

Whilst I could've just gone straight to the Great Hall, I'd found over the course of the last month that I quite enjoyed the presence of my housemates— even if they managed to annoy me sometimes. But whenever they became too much, I mysteriously "vanished" to cool down. No matter how much I liked the kids, the fact remained that I was eighteen and they were eleven.

There wasn't really anyone around the main castle outside of Mr. Pringle since he was the castle's caretaker. I didn't really know what to expect until I met the man, and even then, he blew my expectations out of the park… And not in a good way.

I chanced upon him just as I passed the Great Hall. He was floating over numerous golden platters and cutlery when he saw me. Mr. Pringle was an elderly fellow, sported a head of full grey hair falling down to his neck, and a bushy moustache not unlike the Pringles Man. But that's as far as the resemblance went. His face could only be described as evil with a perpetual frown that was currently directed towards me.

"Oi!" he called out.

I stopped and pointed to myself. "You mean me?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I mean the idiot standing at the door— yes I mean you, you halfwit!"

The hell was his deal? Regardless, I wiped the frown from my face and walked over to him.

"What can I help you with, sir?"

"'Sir'," he scoffed. "Well, you, at the very least, know to respect your elders."

I'd sooner sit through a day's worth of Binns' lectures, but I didn't know if he was allowed to beat students so I wisely kept my thoughts to myself. Filch certainly wasn't allowed to but it was the seventies, not the nineties.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he frowned, folding his arms over his chest.

"Sir, it's seven in the morning."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "... What are you up to?"

"I just got back from exercising."

He blinked, evidently not expecting me to say so. "Really?"

I watched the man mutter to himself, his great moustache twitching as he did so. It was amusing to watch the conflict flash across his face. Eventually, though, he concluded that I wasn't worth the effort.

"Get out." he decided, floating over a teapot. "And stay out of trouble, you hear me?"

I swore that I would and continued on towards the common room. When I arrived, most people were getting ready to leave for breakfast.

"Cyrus, over here!" I was waved over by Michael and joined the rest of my year.

"Where were you?" Ellie asked. "We knocked on your door, but you weren't answering."

A couple of people nodded, bringing a smile to my face. These lot were just too damn cute.

"I was outside exercising."

"Why, Cyrus?" Cadmus spoke up from one of the golden sofas to my right. He was splayed across it, his leg hanging off the side. "Are you trying to get onto the Quidditch team or something?"

"I'm a first-year, McCallan, I can't play Quidditch. I just like to exercise." not like I could tell him I was working out because of Bellatrix, right?

He rolled his eyes and sat up.

I suppressed a snort at the thought. I still had some pride left. Then again, I did enjoy exercising. It was one of the few things left from my previous life that I could hold onto. Plus it helped to energise me for the day ahead, which was always something I was grateful for.

"Are we waiting on anyone else?" I asked the small crowd. Since nobody spoke out, I assumed that everyone was here. "Alright then. Let's go."

OOOO

Slughorn stood just behind a large cauldron at the front of the class. Clad in the proper protective equipment: dragonhide gloves, goggles, and an apron. He began the lesson as boisterously as he usually did— which was to say, very.

"Good morning, children!" he grinned. "How are you all today?"

There was a general hum of "good" around the class.

I sighed and nudged Michael with my elbow. "You reckon there'll be one day where he just crashes. You can't be this happy every single day of the week, right?"

He tilted his head, briefly showing his curious hazel eyes. "I'm not sure. He's a lot better than dreary Binns though."

Not knowing what else to say, I turned back to the front of the class as Slughorn began to speak some more.

"In the spirit of All Hallow's Eve—or Samhain, a more recherché term for the celebration used by the wealthier members of society—we shall be brewing an… interesting potion." Slughorn said with a knowing smile. "Before you, you will see an assortment of ingredients. Flitterby Moths, Bouncing Bulbs, and some Foxglove. Can anyone tell me what these ingredients are used to brew?"

I hadn't the foggiest idea. I didn't remember ever reading about such a Potion at all. I glanced at an equally clueless Michael.

"This isn't a potion that is on the Potions syllabus or in any of your textbooks. As I said, in the spirit of All Hallow's Eve, your lessons will be taking quite the amusing turn today." Slughorn smiled.

From the front of the class, a hand snaked upwards. Something that Slughorn noticed almost immediately.

"Yes, Mr. Aberffraw," he smiled.

"I believe that these are the ingredients to the Pompion Potion?" he asked, a little unsure.

Slughorn's smile widened. "Correct! Ten points to Gryffindor. Pray tell, how did you know what the potion was?"

"My parents are Potioneers." he said, his voice a little subdued.

Slughorn's eyebrows rose. "Christopher and Esmé Aberffraw, eh? I had the great pleasure of teaching them myself. A genius couple who are well-renowned in Potioneer circles across Europe. In fact, they send me a beautification potion every year on my birthday." he chuckled, his great stomach jiggling as he did so. "It seems that you've inherited their great talents!"

From beside me, Michael turned to me, sticking a finger in his mouth and pretending to gag. Nobody from my house seemed to like Slughorn very much. I wondered if it was a result of one of the many changes to the world but something told me that the same thing would've happened even without them.

Aberffraw ducked his head and squeaked. "Thank you sir!"

Slughorn smiled at him. "You are quite welcome, my boy!" he assured.

I rolled my eyes at his blatant attempt at ingratiating himself with the kid. It wasn't like I could fault him though. His whole Slug Club deal wasn't a one-sided thing. Both he and the children who joined benefitted from the networking sessions that those dinner parties really were. I'd go as far as to say that it prepared them pretty well for later life.

Still, in the spirit of fairness, I didn't agree with the man. But was life really fair in the first place?

"Now, as Mr. Aberffraw has just said, the potion that you will all be brewing is the Pompion Potion. Its effect…" he gave the boy a conspiratory smile. "...Well, Mr. Aberffraw and I will keep that one to ourselves, I think. Now, if you all move closer to my cauldron—not that close Mr. McCallan—I will give you a demonstration showing the correct way to brew it."

Slughorn ran through the steps to brew the potion, making sure everyone was wearing the proper protective equipment to shield them from anything if an accident were to occur.

"By the end of all this, your potion should turn orange— like so. Not too bright, but not too dark. Just right." he wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his rather broad forehead. "Make sure to have a firm handle over your Bouncing Bulbs lest you look forward to chasing your plant around. And once more, I say this at the risk of sounding like a bit of a bore, be careful with the Foxglove. It is a highly toxic plant that will send you straight to the Hospital Wing if it doesn't kill you first."

He pointed towards the blackboard just behind him. "If your focus slipped during my demonstration, have no worry. The instructions are on the board behind me and if you have any questions, any at all, feel free to call me over." he nodded once more before walking back to his desk.

We all trailed back to our respective workstations.

"Okay…" I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and hunched over the table. My eyes scanned over the ingredients on the desk and just as I was about to reach for the pestle and mortar, I felt a gloved hand grasp my now bare forearm.

"You handle the Foxglove and stirring and I'll handle the crushing." Michael said.

I shrugged and began to slice the Foxglove. Was it more work for me? Definitely. But overall, it didn't seem to be too hard.

Michael began by crushing the Flitterby Moth to a pulp before casting it into the bubbling cauldron. Next, he moved to pick up the Bouncing Bulb, but it was too quick for him. Thankfully, I had my eye trained on it and caught it before it hopped off the table.

"Thanks, mate." Michael smiled, taking the wriggling plant out of my hands.

I sighed, but returned his smile. "Be a little careful with that, but you're welcome."

I stirred the mixture clockwise until it turned green, stepping back and waiting for Michael to finish with the Bouncing Bulb. He soon added the now ground plant to the cauldron and I stirred—this time anti-clockwise—until it was a burning red.

"Michael," I said. "Throw in the sliced Foxglove."

He did so, and I stirred the cauldron until it was orange before bringing it to a low simmer— a little too dim, I thought, but I supposed it was at least an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade. I was pretty happy with that, in all honesty. For a subject I didn't have too much interest in, I reckoned it was a solid grade.

By the time we'd finished, the rest of the pairs were either finishing up, or had already finished.

"It seems that you're all finished, then." Slughorn slid off his stool and wandered around the class, assessing the potions as he did so.

"A little too bright. You didn't grind your Bouncing Bulb enough, but it's safe to drink. The effect will just last for a little less longer than usual." He moved around the class, doling out criticism and praise alike. "The same to you two. Perhaps next time…"

After a few solid minutes of watching him waddle around the class, he arrived at our cauldron.

"Very nice, very nice…" he leaned over and inspected our cauldron before straightening and clasping his hands over his stomach. "Slightly too dim. Most likely because you didn't crush the Flitterby Moth enough. But otherwise? A very good potion."

He hobbled away to the next workstation and Michael groaned just as he did so.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus," he frowned. "This is my fault."

I smiled at him. "Nah, it doesn't really matter to me." I leaned in close. "Don't tell old Sluggy this, but I don't really care too much about Potions."

He blinked before snorting. "'Old Sluggy'?"

I shrugged and took a seat on one of the stools as we waited for Slughorn to finish.

"Okay," he called out, now back at the front of the class. "Those whose potions I've deemed safe to consume, get ready to drink them. Everyone else, you should have a dose of a safe potion to drink. I'd like you all to drink them on the count of three."

I uncorked my vial and held it out to Michael. "Cheers?"

He brought his vial to my own. "Cheers"

"Three!" Slughorn began to count down. "Two! Uncork your potions." the classroom echoed with pops. "And one!"

I eyed the orange liquid and sloshed it around. For the briefest of moments, I wondered what would happen but cast the thought aside as I downed it. "Bottoms up."

At first, it was slightly sour, but mostly tasted like nothing— plain.

"Ugh…" I shook my head—which for some reason felt oddly heavy—and turned to Michael. "That tasted weir—!"

Too surprised to censor myself, I yelled out. "What the fuck?!"

Slughorn immediately docked five points for that and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. The irony was hilarious to me.

I looked around the classroom and everyone, including myself, were sporting jack-o'-lanterns for heads. Once the novelty wore off, I wondered, a little nervously, when our heads would turn back to normal.

Slughorn beamed at us, spreading his hands outward. "A happy Allhallows to all!" he grinned. "And for those who are clued in on the more esoteric side of wizarding culture, I shall say to you this: tonight is the night when the veil between the dead and the alive thins and you get a glimpse of the spooky world…so enjoy it, and have as much fun as possible!"

I shook my head once more and almost toppled over. Leaning on the table to right myself, I used my other hand to push my head up. This lesson was many things— the chief of which being odd, but a close second was interesting.

After we wished him a happy Allhallows in return, we left the classroom and headed off to break. And as weirded out as I was by my new cranium, it would be a lie if I said that the second glances we got as we trailed through the Entrance Hall were anything less than hilarious.

OOOO

As Slughorn had said, the lessons for the rest of the day were Halloween themed. Some were interesting, others didn't seem too different than normal. Like Transfiguration where Professor McGonagall had us attempting to change a rod into a candlestick. Or in Charms, where Professor Flitwick was teaching the Wand-lighting Charm. Though he did tell us that it had the added effect of scaring away bothersome ghosts, which wasn't new to me.

Then there were classes that changed track altogether. In Herbology, we were making jack-o'-lanterns for the feast— not many were actually passable but a few of them were. And in History of Magic, Binns was telling us about the fiercest hags to grace the British Isles and for the first time ever, nobody fell asleep— not even Binns himself. Maybe the whole "thinning of the veil between life and death" was working, because the elderly ghost seemed to be a lot more spry.

A pity that it was a once a year kind of deal.

That left me—or rather us, since I wasn't alone—with one more thing left for the day: the feast. I don't know why I was so on edge on our way to the Great Hall but I was practically foaming at the mouth for something to go wrong. Something always went wrong on Halloween. In retrospect, though, I wasn't Harry Potter.

It turns out that we were early, and we walked in on Flitwick decorating the hall. He sent out a cutout bat and stuck it to the wall before he noticed us. "Oh, you're all a little early it seems. What lesson have you come from?"

Cadmus decided to answer him. "Herbology."

"Ah, yes," he smiled. "Pomo—" he stopped himself, his smile straining a little. "Professor Sprout told me about the jack-o'-lanterns you made earlier. She was especially happy with, I believe, Miss Allanach's pumpkin."

The girl blushed at the attention and decided to disappear into the crowd of badgers. She couldn't avoid the praise from us though. I leaned over and ruffled her mousy hair. "You should be proud, you know? You were the only jack-o'-lantern she took from our class."

"Thank you." she warbled, her flush fading.

Flitwick continued to levitate the bats and stick them to the wall. He stopped and perked up. "In that case, those of you who are proficient in the Levitation Charm, would you help me put these up? The side facing you has been charmed to stick to whatever surface it touches. I'd like you all to stick them around the hall. I shall not be disappointed if you refuse as this will be quite the straining ordeal— especially for ones so young."

Most people walked towards the Hufflepuff table but quite a few of us stuck around to help. In no time at all, we managed to stick up all of the decorations with time spare, much to Flitwick's glee.

"Very well done indeed!" he smiled and returned his wand to his holster. "Since there are eight of you here, that will be eighty very well-earned points to Hufflepuff!"

I watched our group share tired but excited whispers and proud smiles as we made our way to the table. As for me, I was a lot less tired than they were, mainly because I'd been exercising, but also thanks to my practice. Now, all that was left was to wait for the rest of the school to arrive.

It didn't take too long either. Soon, packs of students began to flock towards their tables, sharing grins and pointing at the decorations around the hall. I felt a small amount of pride at that, but quickly smothered it once I realised that all I did was put them up.

The last to enter the hall were the rest of the professors—barring Flitwick—who were led by Dumbledore. Most took their seats at the table, leaving the only person standing to be the Headmaster himself. He smiled through his rather long beard and his voice seemed to float across the hall.

"Welcome to our annual Hallowe'en feast!" he began. "A happy Allhallows, Samhain, and Hallowe'en to you all. I hope you have enjoyed the festivities today and are looking forward to the feast. I have but a few short notices before we begin, the most important of which being to our sixth-years. In a fortnight, there will be a careers fair just a stone's toss away in Hogsmeade Village. There you will be able to talk to numerous individuals about possible career choices. From active Aurors, to Healers, Enchanters, and perhaps you will be able to discuss the possibility of an apprenticeship with some of the masters visiting Hogsmeade for the fair."

No small amount of furious whispering broke out across the hall, but like the opening feast at the start of the year, Dumbledore silenced the hall by merely raising his hand.

"This next morsel applies to the seventh-years alone. For those of you who are seeking masteries in a given subject, do speak to your subject professors so you can discuss the opportunity in detail. As there are very limited spaces for each subject, I urge you all to be quick about it— the phrase "first come, first served" is quite apt in this case."

As soon as he was finished, mountains of food dropped onto the plates and jugs clattered against the wooden tables.

Dumbledore pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "Now, I believe it is time that we get stuck in!"

The feast wasn't all too different from regular meals outside of a few Hallowe'en specialities like some pumpkin pie. Of course you couldn't ever have a Hogwarts meal without the castle's staple: pumpkin juice. I didn't touch it with a ten-foot pole, more than content with water. I was just about done with my food, taking a few leisurely sips from my goblet, when Dumbledore stood up once more to close the end of the feast.

"I hope that you enjoyed the sumptuous food prepared by our House Elves. Now, onto the evening's activities…" he smiled.

As far as I could remember, I'd never read about any festive activities outside of Christmas. I tussled with the thought for a little before pushing it aside. It wasn't really all that important and only really meant that I'd have an evening to enjoy.

"This year's festivities will be a series of thrilling stories told by our very own Bloody Baron." Dumbledore said. Though his eyes suddenly began to twinkle completely out of the blue. "But… I know that our older years in particular like to have their own fun during this time of the year."

"Morgana's saggy tits!" I heard an older Hufflepuff curse. "How the hell does he know about that?!"

"Which is completely fine," Dumbledore continued. "Provided you make sure to remain safe and that the occasion is fun for all involved."

I heard the same Hufflepuff sigh in relief at that.

"That will be all." the Headmaster said. "For those who would like to join myself and some of the other professors in listening to the Bloody Baron's regaling tales, please remain seated. Otherwise, I wish you all a happy last few hours of the night. But before you all go, as it is Sunday, I ask that you do not let the revelry stretch on for too long. A healthy amount of sleep is paramount for proper growth, after all."

I watched on as most if not all of the older students left the hall. What they were planning to do, I hadn't the foggiest idea. But somehow, I had a sneaking suspicion that it involved something that would have Mr. Pringle throw a fit if he ever caught wind of it. I remained seated since I'd done everything I'd planned for today.

The candles mounted along the hall swayed lightly before winking out of existence, an eerie fog creeping into the hall from the only exit. A low howl echoed into the hall and I'm pretty sure I heard somebody whimper. Slowly but surely, a somewhat ghastly light bobbed up and down, casting the castle walls in an unearthly glow. It seemed that the bloodstained ghost had finally made an appearance. Groaning, I leaned back slightly and stretched out my neck.

If nothing else, I was in for a very long night.

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