Chapter 56 – Halloween Shadows
The days rushed by as Halloween approached, bringing with them a crisp chill that swept through the stone corridors of Hogwarts. Classes had grown more intense, but Thomas kept up with the pace. His academic routine had become second nature: classes during the day, space magic training in the early mornings, and spell practice late at night.
Thomas had grown more adept at controlling his new spatial magic, Flash. Even his schoolwork had improved significantly. In class, he was always alert, always ready. Professors praised his growing confidence.
And in his private spell study, He could now cast Fumos, Flipendo, and other basic defensive charms cleanly, thanks to the evening study sessions led by Bill Weasley. Fred and George's older brother was not only a skilled curse breaker but also a patient, engaging teacher. His presence had revitalized the underground student study group. Thomas always looked forward to those nights
And in Halloween morning, Fred and George were in a particularly sour mood.
"Can you believe Snape?" Fred grumbled, stabbing his eggs with a fork.
"We only slightly underperformed on the potion last week!"
"More like intentionally dumped the ingredients in like soup," Thomas said, amused.
George rolled his eyes. "We call it improvisation. But now we've got to redo the whole assignment. And guess what? It's due tomorrow."
"We also have that Charms essay due," Fred added, dramatically placing a hand on his forehead.
Thomas, who was already done with both assignments, raised an eyebrow. "What are you asking?"
"Lend us your Charms essay. Just as a reference," George said, emphasizing the last word.
"I'm not giving you something to copy," Thomas said, already pulling a rolled parchment from his bag. "But here. Use it as a guide if you're really in a pinch. I'd rather help than have Snape breathing down all our necks."
"You're a lifesaver," Fred said, snatching the parchment.
"A saint, even," George added.
Thomas smiled. "Thirty minutes a day. That's all it takes to stay ahead."
"Yeah, yeah," the twins said in unison.
The day flew by, and by evening, the Great Hall was transformed for the Halloween feast. Pumpkins carved into monstrous faces floated overhead, candles glowed a warm orange, and trays of food appeared in magical abundance. Students sang along with the bewitched instruments hovering over the staff table. Laughter echoed throughout the hall, and for a few hours, the worries of classes and homework melted away.
Thomas enjoyed himself—he really did. He laughed at the way Fred stuffed three pumpkin pasties in his mouth and joined in when the Gryffindor table erupted in a chant praising their victory in the latest practice match. It felt good to be part of something.
But even in that warmth, something stirred.
As they were walking back toward the Gryffindor dormitory, still buzzing from the sugar high and stories exchanged at the feast, a ripple struck Thomas through his magic. It was subtle but distinct—a tug from his Echo spell, which he had maintained in passive sensitivity mode.
Someone was near the Ice Vault.
His heart skipped a beat. That shouldn't be possible. The corridor had been locked down by the staff ever since the incident weeks ago. The spreading ice curse had been resolved, at least that's what everyone had been told.
He slowed down, glancing at Fred and George, who were walking ahead still chattering.
"I left something in the hall," Thomas lied quickly. "Be right back."
They didn't question it, and he slipped away into the shadows.
Navigating the castle's fifth floor with practiced stealth, he approached the corridor with the vanishing stairs—the entrance to the Ice Vault. It was colder than the rest of the floor, though the frost from before was no longer visible. Still, something felt off. Echo whispered truthfully: someone was there.
Thomas moved silently, taking cover behind a wide pillar. From there, he spotted the figure. A boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, standing still in front of the same wall Thomas had once unlocked with Incendio. The student wore Slytherin robes, but his face remained hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. There was no prefect badge, no house insignia that could give more hints.
He seemed to be feeling along the stone, as though trying to find a seam or hidden latch.
Thomas held his breath. What was he doing here?
Then the boy froze.
Somehow, he had sensed Thomas.
The boy turned suddenly, but his hood remained low, masking his identity. Without a word, he bolted down the hall and disappeared around the corner before Thomas could move.
Thomas didn't follow. He didn't need to.
The vault had attracted someone else. Whether it was the same student who had triggered the curse to begin with, or another drawn to its secrets, Thomas couldn't tell. But one thing was certain—it wasn't over.
That night, he lay in bed, staring at the canopy above.
He had promised himself he wouldn't open another Vault.
Now he wondered if someone else might try.
And if they did… would he be forced to intervene?
He wasn't ready for that question.
Not yet.