As October faded, November ushered in an iron-cold chill. Each morning was greeted by a yer of frost, and the biting wind stung hands and cheeks, draining all vitality.

  The sky and the Great Hall’s ceiling had turned a pale bluish-gray. The surrounding mountains of Hogwarts wore snowy caps, and the castle’s interior temperature plummeted. During breaks in the corridors, many students donned thick leather gloves to ward off the chill.

  Whenever Hoffa walked through the castle, the world outside always seemed a mix of withered yellow and frost. Dry leaves whirled and danced in the air, while beneath the frost-covered ke’s surface, shadows hurried along.

  He had no idea where Agia and Miranda were now. The group of students who had followed Professor Drasses into the depths of the Scottish Highnds—what were they doing now?

  Professor Drasses had cimed his css was all about "py," but as Hoffa gazed at the cold gray sky, he doubted that this “py” was anything carefree.

  On the eve of Halloween, the Ravencw common room crackled with the sound of fmes in the firepce.

  Hoffa sat by the fire, scribbling an essay for Transfiguration. This was easy for him, not because he excelled in the subject, but because Professor Bohan rarely assigned anything too profound. His lessons were the simplest among all the professors this year.

  Meanwhile, his dormmates, William Carlson and Antonio Syphus, had long abandoned their homework. At this moment, they were busy applying makeup to each other by the fire. Since it was Halloween, tradition dictated a costume ball for the students.

  In the past, Hogwarts students rarely took costume balls seriously. After all, as witches and wizards, vampires, werewolves, and mummies—things Muggles found fascinating—were mundane to them.

  But this year, the students were under immense pressure. Heavy workloads and the looming threat of a world war weighed on them, and they needed a way to blow off steam.

  Thus, the sight of two boys applying makeup to each other.

  William, a bck-haired boy with a sprinkling of freckles and a pointed chin, had painted half his face snow-white and added sharp fangs. He pnned to dress as a vampire.

  Antonio, on the other hand, was a chubby red-haired boy who was always on the rounder side. He had wrapped himself in bandages, leaving only his fiery hair visible. He intended to go as a mummy.

  As they worked, William commented, “I bet those people outside must be freezing.”

  “Who?” Antonio asked.

  “Who else? Those dragon trainers, of course. Pying out there in the cold—is it really that fun?”

  “They have dragons. Maybe the dragons breathe fire to keep them warm,” Antonio replied.

  “Thanks for reminding me!” William smmed the table with mock anger. “Do you think I’ve never seen a dragon?”

  “No, no,” Antonio quickly waved his wand, brushing a yer of white powder onto William’s face to pacify him. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Hmph.” William crossed his arms. “Then what do you mean?”

  “I was wondering,” Antonio mused, “if Professor Drasses really brought dozens of dragons. Dozens?”

  “How would I know? I didn’t cross the ke.”

  William, exasperated, added, “Why don’t you ask Hoffa? He’s the only one who crossed the ke and came back.”

  Antonio hesitated, gncing nervously at Hoffa, who was engrossed in his essay by the window. He didn’t dare disturb him.

  Hoffa gnced briefly at his dormmates. He had heard their conversation but didn’t feel like responding. Over the past weeks, he’d been asked the same question countless times.

  Especially by the boys. Even though he had clearly answered a hundred times that Professor Drasses had brought dragons and entrusted the care of young dragons to the students, no one believed him. They kept asking, as if waiting for a different, more exciting answer.

  After finishing his essay, Hoffa pulled out his Transfiguration manual, Anatomy of All Things: Structure as King, and began to read it meticulously.

  However, as he read, William kept chattering beside him.

  “There might not even be dragons. Look at Professor Drasses—he’s as thin as a stick. How could he manage dozens of fire dragons? They’re probably just a few Sahara fire lizards.”

  “Exactly,” Antonio agreed. “That’s much more likely.”

  William added, “I’ve seen plenty of braggarts. These days, you can’t trust any so-called experts or professors.”

  “Absolutely,” Antonio chimed in. “My mom trusted some expert once, bought some medicine, and it turned out to be fake.”

  “See? People like that exist everywhere—in both Muggle and wizard worlds. It’s nothing new. I bet those guys out there are just hiding somewhere warm, avoiding all the exhausting Potions csses we’re stuck with.”

  William suddenly perked up. “You’re a genius!”

  “Really?” Antonio blinked in surprise.

  And so, the two continued their chatter by the cozy fire.

  Truth be told, Hoffa found it noisy. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. If there were no war, he imagined he would happily join them in preparing for the costume ball.

  But the pressure of the external war loomed like a mountain, and his own troubles kept piling up.

  More importantly, he was no longer the unnoticed figure hiding in the corner. This year, he was under intense scrutiny—not just from the school’s professors but also from students across all four houses. With so many eyes on him, he dared not rex for even a moment.

  Unable to stop the others from talking, he discreetly covered his ears and resumed reading. Just as he was getting absorbed, the common room door suddenly burst open.

  Standing at the doorway, panting heavily, was Hoffa’s third dormmate, Taylor Smith.

  Taylor: “They’re back! That group of people—they’ve returned!”

  William: “Why are you shouting? What group?”

  Taylor: “You know, the group from Care of Magical Creatures!”

  At his words, everyone in the common room lifted their heads—those reading, doing homework, warming themselves by the fire, pying chess, or putting on makeup. All eyes turned to Taylor at the door as questions erupted.

  “Are there dragons?”“Really? Are there actual dragons?”

  Taylor: “I heard from a Hufflepuff—it’s true!”

  “Wow!”

  Antonio was the first to stand up. “Let’s go see!”

  With him leading the charge, the students rushed out of the common room. Even in the wizarding world, dragons were rare creatures, let alone the prospect of seeing over a dozen of them.

  William hesitated, fidgeting as though he wanted to join but then scoffed. “I’m not going. What’s there to see?”

  But his voice was drowned out by the tide of students surging out.

  Hoffa didn’t jostle with the crowd. He waited until the room was nearly empty before slowly standing. By then, only two people remained in the common room—himself and William, who sat by the fire with a sullen expression.

  William, dressed in a bck leather coat styled like a medieval count, arms crossed over his chest, gred bitterly. His vampire makeup, with its stark white complexion, only added to his gloom.

  Sensing Hoffa’s gaze, William’s eyes lit up briefly. “You’re not going either, Hoffa?”

  Hoffa shook his head. “No, I am going.”

  He wasn’t just going because he hadn’t seen Agia and Miranda for a long time. More importantly, maintaining order was one of the challenges Professor Bohan had tasked him with.

  At Hoffa’s nod, William’s face fell again.

  “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

  The two walked out of the common room, one after the other, descending the enchanted staircase until they reached the castle grounds in front of the Great Hall.

  The cold was biting, and their steps crunched on the frost-hardened grass. A group of oddly dressed students had gathered along the corridors and on the stone steps, craning their necks to look at a line of figures approaching from the distance. Some had even brought out Muggle binocurs.

  Soon, the line of figures emerged from the frosted grass. They walked in neat formation, exuding discipline.

  At the forefront of the group was Agia’s cousin, Sherlock. Her appearance was disheveled—her clothes tattered, riddled with burn holes, and her face bore three cw marks.

  Yet, she radiated confidence, more so than Hoffa had ever seen before. With her head held high, she strode toward the castle. Beside her walked a Hungarian Horntail, nearly four meters long, resembling a massive crocodile. Its spiked head was held high, its streamlined body supported by its wings and powerful hind legs. Sharp cws left deep impressions in the frosty grass.

  The beast exhaled thin wisps of smoke from its nostrils, its yellow eyes scanning the crowd with a cold, predatory gaze devoid of warmth.

  A dragon. A real dragon.

  The crowd gasped, many covering their mouths in fear. A few muttered in low voices, astonished. The Hungarian Horntail was completely unrestrained—no chains, no colrs. It was free.

  The dragon seemed to pick up on the crowd’s fear, immediately arching its back and baring its razor-sharp teeth.

  Sherlock pressed a hand on its head and said calmly, “No.”

  The dragon gnced at her, tilted its head slightly, and stopped gring at the crowd. The students, still trembling from the scare, fell silent and parted, making a rge path for the dragon handlers.

  Hoffa was secretly astonished. In just two months, the Horntail had grown so rge, and Sherlock had apparently managed to tame it.

  His gaze shifted to the rest of the group. Each dragon handler walked alongside a dragon, all of them in simirly tattered clothing. These creatures were noticeably rger than when Hoffa had first seen them, and surprisingly, they all behaved obediently beside their handlers.

  Hoffa spotted Agia and Miranda in the group. Miranda, with her pale, unseeing eyes, leaned drowsily against Agia’s shoulder. Agia, on the other hand, appeared to have no dragon. But Hoffa knew it was an illusion—subtle ripples in the air around her suggested her Welsh Green was in stealth mode.

  Miranda waved at Hoffa and mouthed, “I’ve got something to do,” before disappearing into the castle with the group.

  As the students and their dragons vanished, the remaining Halloween revelers exchanged gnces, the atmosphere heavy with a sense of dejection. Their makeup, once vibrant, now seemed dull and lifeless.

  These students had spent endless hours toiling over Potions and Herbology, finding their only reprieve in the Halloween costume ball.

  Meanwhile, another group had spent months in the Scottish Highnds and returned with dragons following them like trained dogs.

  The disparity was palpable, a stark reminder to everyone present: though they were all wizards, their worlds could be vastly different.

  (End of Chapter)

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