237) Halloween Party 4

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, now I present to you a small performance by the Frog Choir," I announced from the stage, amplifying my voice with a Sonorus charm.

Of course, this wasn't the official Hogwarts Frog Choir, but a group of substitutes. They were the ones who had the chance to shine today. Not that they were bad—not at all—but I always felt that limiting the show to just frogs as participants made it somewhat monotonous.

Snacks had already been served, and most attendees were taking a break from dancing. The choir was the perfect entertainment for this moment. From the stage, I scanned the guests. For example, my brothers, who had decided to dress like Red Cap—but in a more comedic style, almost like a mix between imps and Little Red Riding Hood. Then there were Harry and Ron, whose costumes weren't exactly noteworthy for their detail. Harry seemed to be dressed as... a dog? I wasn't entirely sure. Ron, on the other hand, wore a suit that made it look like he'd been impaled by a sword. Clever, but basic.

However, I didn't pay them much attention. My gaze shifted to the girls around the room. There was something charming about all of them, especially the older ones and their daring choice of provocative costumes. I noticed some who didn't usually mingle with my group but definitely caught my eye today: Marietta, Cho's friend; Romilda Vane; and even that Brita girl, known for being openly lesbian at Hogwarts. That's probably why she got so excited when she overheard what Penelope told Percy... but that's a story for another time. In any case, I had to thank my past self for all the costumes I'd prepared. I'm not sure if I miss the Greek orgies, but I feel like next year I should plan a different kind of party.

Meanwhile, my friends were scattered across various groups, though they seemed to be gradually converging into one. It looked like everyone was having a great time—well, almost everyone. Lavender seemed uncomfortable, constantly looking like she needed to go to the bathroom, though we all knew that wasn't what she really wanted.

The Frog Choir finished their performance, and it was my turn to take the stage again.

"A big round of applause for our beloved amphibian friends and the students who accompanied them," I said courteously as I prepared for what really mattered to me. "And now, I hope you enjoy our little shadow show..."

The lights in the hall began to dim. Slowly, the stage transformed with the help of perfectly positioned lights. The enchantments went to work, creating a spectral effect that cast eerie shadows, turning the space into a much more frightening setting than anyone expected.

The lights moved and shifted, with different intensities, colors, and patterns combining to create a unique atmosphere. The spells did their part, manipulating key elements to make the shadows come alive. I even used my own magical blood manipulation abilities to create forms that would otherwise be impossible.

The audience was completely absorbed, their murmurs fading as everyone focused on the images being projected. Then, my voice echoed, now altered to sound deeper and more immersive.

"Long ago, in a distant place, a girl was born whose destiny was marked by darkness..." I began, with soft, ominous music playing in the background.

I had taken inspiration from the introduction of Resident Evil 8, recreating its aesthetic and atmosphere. Judging by the expressions of the attendees, I was achieving my goal: to captivate them with my narrative. Not even the girls in my group knew all the details of this presentation; only a few who had helped with the preparations had any idea of what was about to unfold.

The play continued, followed by several short stories—some more local, like the well-known tale of the Three Brothers. Throughout each story, the classic murmurs of admiration echoed: "Ohhh!" and "Aaahhh!" mixed with spontaneous exclamations like, "Don't go in there!" Each story concluded with applause—not from everyone, but from a significant majority. The professors seemed especially captivated by the show. Many of them, too old to enjoy the frantic music and dancing preferred by the young, found something closer to their tastes in these narratives: a performance filled with meaning, reflections, and lessons that even made them ponder whether some of the stories were more real than they appeared.

The lights came back on, though maintaining the dim illumination to preserve the mysterious and terrifying atmosphere dominating the hall.

"Thank you for your attention," I announced from the stage. "Now we'll take a brief five-minute break before continuing with our program. The food tables are constantly being restocked, so feel free to grab something to eat or drink. But remember not to overindulge; the Halloween dinner in the Great Hall is still to come." I ended my speech just as the music resumed, marking the start of the brief intermission.

During this break, some of the professors gathered near the Headmaster to chat with one of my clones, who was acting as an impromptu waiter, ensuring that no one ruined the food or the atmosphere. Headmaster Dumbledore, always kind, expressed how much he had enjoyed the stories, commenting that some of them had an eerily realistic tone. Even Professor Kettleburn showed curiosity, asking me about the creatures featured in the tales and whether they were inventions or real beings. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, ever elegant, hinted that she'd like to see some local Scottish stories included in a future event. And, well... Lockhart got excited too, sharing comments about his own stories but also showing interest in mine—perhaps with the intent to steal them.

Meanwhile, Snape, true to his character, made several sarcastic remarks. Though his words were critical, to everyone's surprise, he spoke more than usual. This prompted curious looks from the others, enough to make him fall silent under their inquisitive gazes.

When the moment came, I stepped back onto the stage. The music stopped, and I gestured calmly but firmly for silence.

"Alright, ladies, gentlemen... and Snape," I said, provoking a wave of muffled laughter as the Potions Master glared at me. "Now begins the longest act of the night. This will be presented by several people who have worked hard to prepare these stories. Let's give them a big round of applause..." I paused for effect, lowering my tone to one dark and macabre: "...before fear consumes you so much that you can never clap again."

Suddenly, my clone, who had been acting as the host until that moment, dissolved into a bloody mass in front of everyone. The room fell completely silent for a second, until the lights went out entirely, and an evil laugh echoed, filling the space.

The first screams broke out here and there as a few torches slowly ignited. However, these weren't the usual castle torches—they were enchanted to provide just enough light, leaving most of the room shrouded in shadows. The atmosphere, heavy with tension, had transformed into the perfect stage for what was to come.

Lavender, though visibly nervous and tense, not to mention the stress caused by her arousal, made an effort to compose herself. With a shaky sigh, she grabbed the magical microphone I had specially crafted for the occasion. From a corner of the stage, still concealed in the shadows, she began her narration. Before she spoke, I placed a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder, using [Calm] to help her regain control and deliver her best performance.

Her voice resonated throughout the hall, amplified in such a way that it seemed to come from all directions at once.

"Long ago… before light paved the way for darkness, ancient creatures roamed the shadowiest corners of the world…"

The solemn, melancholic tone of her voice filled the room, gradually silencing the remaining murmurs and chuckles. Within seconds, every single person was captivated. As Lavender continued, her narration took on an eerie edge, building tension slowly and drawing the audience into a crescendo of suspense.

I had carefully designed the sequence of stories: starting with lighter tales, gradually increasing the level of horror, and ending with the most terrifying ones. Lavender opened the session, followed by Penelope and other girls, alternating with stories I had meticulously selected. Some were well-known Hogwarts legends, others were local tales gathered by the participants. I had also included a few gems I knew would work perfectly—a touch of Lovecraft, a glimpse of zombie apocalypse—a mix destined to leave a lasting impression.

Of course, I didn't rely solely on the stories to instill fear. My secret weapon was my [Auras], a trick that might be considered cheating but was simply too effective to pass up. During each tale, my different auras subtly spread through the room, creating an almost imperceptible unease, a natural-seeming disquiet. They weren't strong enough to be easily detected, but they did the job: subtly feeding the fear.

The professors, for the most part, noticed something unusual. Some eyed me suspiciously but said nothing. They simply stayed attentive, intrigued by the stories. Not everyone reacted the same way, of course. While some, like Dumbledore and McGonagall, remained stoic, Lockhart… well, he nearly jumped behind his chair like a frightened child.

As the stories continued, I observed the audience's reactions in the dim light. Some students, especially the younger ones, were clearly terrified, unable to hide their fear. But it wasn't just the younger ones—even some of the older students seemed to struggle to keep their composure. More than once, I saw a student rise, determined to leave the room, only to stumble in the darkness or lose their way in the crowd.

Fear was contagious. The murmurs grew, becoming screams that spread like wildfire. Those who didn't understand the source of the terror started panicking simply because everyone else was. Humans, after all, are as herd-like as ever.

I realized the situation was reaching a tipping point. Though there were still three or four stories left to complete the session, I decided to end it. I had no other choice—if I didn't, the professors would step in to stop the chaos.

With a flick of my wand, the hall's lights came back on, this time with a warm, comforting glow. The menacing shadows receded, and with them, some of the fear that had gripped the room.

"Thank you all for your attention. I hope you enjoyed it," I said from the stage, watching as most of the audience was still processing the fear left behind by the last activity. The response was muted; some were still too scared to react or had bolted from the hall, while others were likely lamenting the state of their pants.

"We could call it a night now," I continued in a deliberately casual tone, letting the tension hang in the air for a moment. Then, with enthusiasm, I added, "But there's more! A last-minute surprise… the awards ceremony!"

A wave of relief swept through the room at the announcement that there would be no more horror. Even my group of girls, who had witnessed our practices and should have been better prepared, looked a bit shaken. I saw them grouping together, hugging each other for comfort. The scene was so heartwarming… and, well, maybe a little exciting—or maybe that's just me being disturbed.

"As you know, this is a costume party, and there can't be costumes without prizes, right?" I said with a broad smile, gesturing to encourage the audience. "We've got all kinds of costumes tonight. For instance, look over there: Dumbledore looks like an ancient wizard straight out of legend. Tell me, don't you feel like he could pull out a sword at any moment to face some ancient evil alongside his staff?"

Some timid laughter rippled through the crowd, while Dumbledore nodded with a wise smile, as if imagining the scene himself.

"Next to him is McGonagall with her elegant cat costume. I think many here would agree they'd have preferred seeing her in that instead of being startled when she transformed into an Animagus during the first class. Remember how some of you tried to pet her before realizing what was happening?"

This time, a burst of genuine laughter filled the hall. The professors, including Dumbledore and McGonagall, played along with my comments, responding with witty retorts that helped lighten the mood.

The tension gradually dissipated, and with the professors' cooperation, we managed to make most of the students feel more at ease. The laughter became more frequent, and the atmosphere, once filled with fear, transformed into a blend of fun and camaraderie.

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