The brief incident in the office involving the Wolfsbane Potion was soon forgotten.
As students returned from Hogsmeade loaded with purchases, Hogwarts Castle was completely swept up in the annual Halloween festivities.
Students discovered that the ceiling of the Great Hall was no longer the familiar starry sky. Instead, thick, blood-dark clouds churned overhead.
From time to time, enormous, eerie white skeletal hands formed by magic emerged from the clouds, flexing in the air and drawing both screams and laughter from the students dining below.
Braver students deliberately ran back and forth beneath the claws, allowing the giant bony fingers to gently lift them a few inches into the air before setting them down again, prompting gasps and amused scolding.
The four long tables were piled high with Halloween-themed treats. Bubbling pumpkin juice was served in skull-shaped goblets, golden-brown roasted chicken wings gleamed beneath bat-shaped flags, and even the mashed potatoes had been shaped into little graves, each topped with a "tombstone" biscuit.
Most eye-catching of all was a lifelike carved pumpkin lantern in the center of the Great Hall, as large as Hagrid's hut. Its mouth stretched into a huge, hollow grin, glowing with an orange-red light from within.
The older students had clearly figured out a new game.
Several Slytherin students, wearing mischievous smiles, urged a trembling first-year Hufflepuff to step closer to the giant pumpkin lantern.
"Don't be scared, there's something good inside!" one of the older students called out. "Shout 'Trick or Treat' at its mouth!"
The first-year, half-believing and half-doubting, nervously approached and had just finished shouting "Trick or…" at the dark, hollow mouth.
With a sudden whoosh, the pumpkin lantern's mouth snapped open, and a powerful suction instantly swallowed the little wizard whole.
"Whoa—!" the first-years screamed in terror, and even some of the older students were startled.
But only a few seconds later, the pumpkin lantern's wide, grinning mouth opened again, and with a pop, the little wizard was spat back out completely unharmed. He landed on the floor clutching a large handful of brightly coloured Honeydukes sweets, still looking rather dazed.
After a brief moment of silence, the Great Hall exploded with thunderous laughter and cheers.
The first-years' eyes lit up, and they scrambled toward the giant pumpkin lantern in a rush.
Amid the chaos and joy, several Dementors bearing Gilderoy Lockhart's signature toothy grin, or rather, Lockhart Dementors, drifted leisurely between the long tables and through the crowd.
They had no real substance, but their ear-to-ear, dazzling smiles looked especially eerie under the strange Halloween lighting.
"Hello, would you like an autograph?"
One of them conjured a phantom book and quill out of thin air.
A group of Ravenclaw students were so startled they nearly dropped their chicken legs, recoiling in horror and shaking their heads frantically. "No! No, thank you!"
"Oh, don't be shy!"
The Lockhart Dementor floated after them relentlessly, its brilliant smile gleaming with an unsettling light in the dimness.
"I assure you, the magic of my autograph will make you forget all your troubles! Just look at my charming smile. Isn't it much cuter than those gloomy real ones?"
It even tried to lean against a doorframe, striking a "charming" pose.
"Please, go away!" The student was almost in tears, clutching their bag in front of their face.
"Merlin's beard, that thing is scarier than the real ones!" Ron exclaimed from a distance, clutching his chest.
"Do you mean scarier than a real Dementor, or scarier than the real Lockhart?" Harry asked with a laugh.
"Scarier than both." Ron grabbed a tombstone-shaped cake and stuffed it into his mouth. "Good thing those bats don't have Snape's face. If they did, I might actually collapse."
"Ron," Hermione whispered a warning, "he's looking over here!"
Harry and Ron looked up to see Snape staring at the trio with his usual disdain, aimed primarily at Harry, of course.
All three of them quickly lowered their heads and focused on stuffing food into their mouths.
Sagres sat in a relatively secluded spot at the staff table, holding a glass of deep red liquid, his gaze calmly sweeping over the boisterous Great Hall below.
Watching the students both love and fear the giant pumpkin lantern, seeing the chaos caused by the blood-red clouds and skeletal claws, and especially witnessing his "Lockhart Dementors" successfully provoke screams and complaints, he could not help but allow a faint smile to appear.
In a few days, Lockhart would truly be joining the Dementors. The Ministry of Magic had already begun its investigation. It simply had not been made public yet.
Beside him, Professor Flitwick and Professor Lupin were discussing the magic used for the decorations, occasionally directing questions his way. He answered absent-mindedly, most of his attention lost in his own thoughts.
The feast drew to a close amid constant screams, laughter, showers of sweets, and the "harassment" of the Lockhart Dementors.
Dumbledore stood up and tapped his goblet with his wand. A clear, pleasant chime rang out, and the noise in the Great Hall gradually died down.
"What a lively evening!"
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with delight. "Thanks to the ghosts and all our professors… especially Professor Greengrass's ingenious decorations, which have given us such unforgettable Halloween memories."
He cast a pointed glance at the Lockhart Dementor still in the corner, attempting to demonstrate the "charm of an autograph" to a Gryffindor student who was desperately shielding their face with a pumpkin pie plate.
"Alright, children," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Even the sweetest sweets and the most thrilling jokes cannot resist the call of sleep. Prefects, please lead your houses back to your common rooms. I wish you all… well, interesting dreams. Good night!"
The prefects stood up to restore order.
Reluctantly, the students rose from their seats, their faces still flushed with excitement as they chatted animatedly about the night's events.
Several students argued over who had been lifted highest by the skeletal claws, who had collected the most sweets from the pumpkin lantern, and who had been chased most miserably by the Lockhart Dementor.
Sagres also returned to his office. He stood by the window, gazing up at the gloomy sky outside the castle.
Dementors, like wandering ghosts, silently patrolled the air and grounds around Hogwarts, bringing with them a bone-chilling cold and a sense of despair.
His eyes followed the weary owls as they bravely navigated through the low, leaden clouds and the icy shadows cast by the Dementors.
Some had their feathers dampened by the cold mist. Others were briefly forced off course when passing too close to a Dementor. Yet not a single one was truly hindered or attacked.
They still delivered letters, parcels, and newspapers with perfect accuracy to the owlery in the towers, and a few especially bold ones even flew straight through the thin Dementor patrols, dropping items near the windows of student dormitories.
Sagres's gaze tracked a barn owl flapping hard against the wind when a sudden flash of insight struck him.
"Dementors are most sensitive to emotions, especially human happiness. Devouring souls is their instinct. But animals… their emotional structure is far more primitive. Just like these owls can move freely. This proves that Dementors primarily target humans with complex emotions and fully formed souls."
The thought was like a stone dropped into a deep pool, sending ripples outward.
His mind drifted to Azkaban, the wizarding prison guarded by Dementors.
How had Sirius Black, a prisoner believed to be wandless and powerless, managed to vanish silently right under the noses of countless Dementors?
"Ordinary Disillusionment Charms, Polyjuice Potion… all of it is child's play before a Dementor's ability to sense souls. They can see through every disguise and lock directly onto the aura of a soul. Unless…"
A bold hypothesis flared in his mind, like a candle suddenly lit in the dark.
"Unless he changed not only his appearance, but his most fundamental form of life."
Sagres narrowed his eyes. "Magic that can alter the very 'scent' of a soul, even simulating a… non-human state."
The answer became clear in his thoughts.
Human Transfiguration.
Animagus.
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