"Look! Something's coming out over there!"
A sudden commotion erupted at the Hufflepuff table, drawing every student's gaze toward the staff table at the front of the hall.
The open space before the staff table shimmered and transformed into a patch of muddy earth. Several tombstones jutted from the ground, wobbling and then toppling over as a troupe of skeletons burst forth from beneath the soil.
Each skeleton was adorned with gleaming silver bangles on their necks and wrists. They quickly assembled into formation, marching with eerie precision toward the four house tables.
"That's the Skeleton Dance Troupe," Anthony whispered beside Wyzett.
Wyzett studied the scene, his eyes sharp. "They're definitely using the Levitation Charm, and some Transfiguration as well, I'd wager..."
A deep, resonant organ began to play, and the skeletons sprang to life, dancing in time with the haunting melody. Their movements shifted between stiff and uncanny to wild and exuberant—like lost souls teetering between life and death.
As the chiming of a celesta joined in, the skeletons' dance grew even more frenzied. They tossed their own bones high into the air, where the pieces spun and snapped together to form the crests of the four Hogwarts houses.
The bone-crests whirled overhead, glowing with vibrant colors: sapphire and bronze, emerald and silver, golden yellow and jet black, scarlet and gold...
Sometimes the colors stood alone, sometimes they blended together, painting the air with a magical, mysterious brilliance that echoed the ringing, ethereal notes of the music.
The skeletons spun faster and faster, until the entire Great Hall was awash in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and color.
Just as the spectacle threatened to overwhelm the senses, the music cut off—abrupt and final. The colors faded. The skeletons froze in place, silent and still.
A swirl of smoke rolled across the stage. When it cleared, the tombstones and muddy ground had vanished, replaced by a dozen elderly wizards with snowy white hair, now standing where the skeletons had danced.
These were the true members of the Skeleton Dance Troupe. Smiling broadly, they waved to the students, basking in a thunderous storm of applause.
Wyzett joined in with the rest, thoroughly impressed. The magic behind the performance was deceptively simple—just Levitation Charms and Transfiguration. But the artistry, the precision, the countless hours of practice required to pull it off—now that was real magic.
He pulled out his notebook and scribbled a quick note: "Mastery comes from relentless practice and perfect control—every detail, every movement matters. Even the simplest spells, when wielded with focus and daring, can create something extraordinary. Patience. Perseverance. Never stop trying."
At the staff table, Professor Flitwick noticed Wyzett jotting in his notebook. Stroking his beard, he murmured, "Precision and control... they're essential for a good charm."
Professor McGonagall's eyes held a trace of envy. "Indeed. It's clear Wyzett understands that—he really is a true Ravenclaw."
Fresh from shaking hands with the dancers, Lockhart slid back into his seat just in time to hear McGonagall's comment.
He flashed his trademark dazzling smile. "A true Ravenclaw? Are you talking about me?"
Flitwick didn't bother replying, simply staring ahead as the Skeleton Dance Troupe took their bows and exited the hall.
McGonagall followed suit, ignoring Lockhart's increasingly awkward grin.
Fortunately, Lockhart's discomfort didn't last. Dumbledore rose from his seat and strode to the podium, his presence instantly commanding the room.
With a wave of his hand, the Halloween feast officially began. Platters and bowls piled high with food appeared on every house table.
The menu was nothing like the start-of-term banquet. Tonight's dishes were all about Halloween flair: steaks smothered in black pepper sauce and squid ink, giving them a deep, oceanic flavor and a truly "dark" appearance; enormous pumpkin-shaped cakes topped with chocolate tombstones, surrounded by vivid red jam that looked disturbingly like blood.
Next to the cakes were plates piled high with "eyeballs" and "fingers"—chilling to behold, but in truth just cleverly decorated cookies and sweets, made to look as though they'd been freshly severed.
There were even more inventive treats: bat-shaped chocolates that would flutter away if you touched them, chocolate spiders that shot peanut butter webs across the table...
"Look! The professors are drinking Coolic too!"
A sharp-eyed Hufflepuff pointed at the staff table, where bottles of Coolic had appeared.
For Dumbledore, anything sweet was irresistible. He even twisted open a bottle for Professor McGonagall, demonstrating the proper way to drink it.
White steam billowed from his ears and the top of his head as he laughed, his long beard quivering with delight.
Even Snape opened a bottle of Coolic, though he didn't drink it straight from the bottle. Instead, he used a flick of his wand to pour the drink into a glass, sipping it with uncharacteristic delicacy.
And for the students watching the staff table, the real shock was seeing Snape smile—a smile born of pure, genuine enjoyment. It was a little awkward, but utterly sincere.
"Coolic!" Fred let out a low whistle. "Would you believe it—Snape actually smiled like that?"
George grinned wickedly. "I always thought he only did sneers, smirks, and evil grins... Never figured he had an innocent side."
It wasn't just the Weasley twins who were stunned. All around the hall, students exchanged amazed glances. The mystery of Coolic had just reached a new level.
"I checked with the Ministry," George said, barely able to contain his excitement. "Once they finish the potion evaluation next week, Madam Pomfrey can start handing out Coolic!"
Fred rubbed his hands together. "And when the rain finally stops and the hospital wing stops serving it, it'll be our turn to take over!"
That had been the M.S.C. Club's plan all along. The twins, already experts at selling prank items, were more than ready for the challenge.
The Great Hall buzzed with laughter and excitement. Students feasted on the magical food, soaking in the Halloween spirit.
That was what the Halloween Feast was truly about: good food, good company, and the joy of magic.
When everyone was full and happy, Dumbledore returned to the owl-shaped podium, white steam still curling from his ears and forehead.
Seeing the students' barely-suppressed giggles, he smiled too. "It gives me great pleasure that this year, at last, we can enjoy a complete Halloween feast..."
He raised his wand high. "And just like the holiday gift I prepared last year... this time, you'll actually get to receive it!"
With a gentle flick, the remaining candy candles on the ceiling burst into flame, showering the hall with a cascade of brilliant, colorful sweets.
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