Midterms passed by on Friday, with Transfiguration and Arithmancy being the hardest. Potions I passed with my best effort, and Snape was harsh but showed what was perhaps even approval of my brew of wolfsbane. Divination was a breeze, although not literally considering Professor Trelawney’s tower was as heavily perfumed as ever.
Care of Magical Creatures was great, and Hagrid made the pass/fail exam his own by telling us stories of his various endangered pets while we wrote our essay on our familiar’s magical qualities and entertained a flobberworm each.
I sat alone with Binx that night and planned my All Hallows Eve. When I awoke I dressed warmly, doubling sweaters and socks, letting my long wavy hair down to lie around my ears. As soon as Binky had been outfitted with his little orange collar and bat wings, we both padded down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Even before the feast, Halloween at Hogwarts was a marvelous sight to behold. The smell of salted pumpkin seeds wafted through the air and the ghosts took to carolling spooky tunes wherever they went. Even Peeves the poltergeist was in high spirits, although he’d taken to tossing Hagrid’s freshly raked autumn leaves over the heads of students passing by; I loved it all the same.
I took Binky in my arms as we entered the hall and let him lie in my lap while I drank my morning pumpkin juice with a croissant, feeding him little nips of cured meats from the table. Fred and George came over when they were done eating and coddled Binx between them.
“Thackery Binx!” they bellowed. “Where’ve you been creeping off to lately?” He looked back at them with his wide yellow eyes then squirmed loose and trotted out of the hall.
“I reckon he knows more about this castle than we do,” I said to them, rising to my feet.
“Course he does,” George retorted as we walked down the row, “we caught him chasing Ron’s rat in our common room not two weeks ago.”
When we’d safely hit the fresh air of the grounds I asked, “So how are the preparations for your little soiree coming along?”
Fred beamed. “Well wouldn’t you like to know!”
I laughed and waved goodbye to them as I headed down the hill.
“See you there,” I called, sliding carefully down the muck into Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. I considered the array of leftover gourds that hadn’t been included in the Hogwarts feast or display. I knew Rubeus wouldn’t mind if I had one, but glanced into his hut just in case. There was no tell-tale puff of murky smoke coming from the stubby chimney so I assumed he was in the castle working on the carving scene he did for the display every year.
There was one tall pumpkin that rose from the soil in an oval shape but I’d never favoured those. Several were medium sized, perhaps only an inch larger than my own head, but they were severely rotted on one side, and I hadn’t mastered a restorative charm for vegetation yet. The other was much too large to carry in my own arms but it was perfectly round except for a flat face on one side. I chose the latter after careful consideration and began forcefully rolling it out of the patch and up the hill. After only a few turns I was straining and leaned against it to hold my breath, simultaneously checking around me for any onlookers, then whipping out my wand and chiming a featherweight charm.
Students were technically not allowed to perform magic in the halls or out of class, but as long as you weren’t seen performing a spell, or could hide said spell well, then it was great practice.
The pumpkin became weightless and I tucked it under my arm to balance on my hip as I climbed the hill and strode into the courtyard. Sitting cross-legged on one of the stone benches I turned it this way and that, studying it’s infinite forms and sides. Then I began whispering; mumbling and pointing my wand from my pocket, chanting in concentration the basic design spells I’d learned so far. It glowed purple briefly before twirling three times in the air to float back down onto the bench.
It had been magically carved into a smiling face with a wide, jagged mouth and two laughing eyes. A blue flame flickered from within. I would bring it as a party favour later that night. I thought of the perfect place to stash it for now, and Binx joined me as I made my way through the tapestry, down the corridor and spiral staircase, all the way to the porthole over the slytherin common room. As I let it go the pumpkin rested to float just in front of the little window, grinning back at me like it was our little secret. It tried to follow me as I left and I had to give it a stern look and say, “Stay.” Then I headed up to the Ravenclaw common room to work on some ongoing homework for divination - we’d begun dream journals the week before.
Monday Night: An Acromantula was hiding in the Forbidden Forest and I became lost then overrun by its children
Tuesday Night: The potions master killed a boy in class; gave me an A+
Wednesday Night: The Black Lake dried out and the Giant Squid moved into the Slytherin Dungeons; merpeople had to be relocated by Ministry of Magic
Thursday Night: The Grim was hiding under Professor Trelawney’s desk in class and nobody told her
I also needed to complete a shopping list for potions on Tuesday.
Root of Asphodel;
Ashwinder egg;
Bicorn horn;
Black Beetle eye;
Lacewing fly;
Syrup of Hellbore
By lunch Binx had gone up to my four poster bed in the girls’ dormitory and I headed down to the Great Hall to munch on some pumpkin seeds and butterbeer, stealing handfuls from the kitchen before walking back out to the courtyard. I found my spot on the bench had been taken by a gaggle of first year Hufflepuffs in their robes and pointed hats. I resigned to lean against the doors and finish my snack while looking out over the grounds toward the Black Lake.
The Halloween feast that night was splendid as ever: thousands of black wax candles hung over our heads in the bewitched night sky of the Great Hall; clouds of bats swarming from corner to corner. Hagrid’s largest pumpkin, at least as tall and twice as wide as him had a ghostly grave scene carved into its facade, making it appear translucent by the candlelight (or what was most likely a roaring fire) within. Many houses would be throwing a Samhain party in their common rooms afterward, which made the Weasley twins outlaw party unique - students from all houses could attend.
It had altogether been a fun and peaceful day, but All Hallows Eve was just getting started. At midnight a handful of us from all over the castle; Ravenclaw Tower, Gryffindor Tower, Slytherin Dungeons, and Hufflepuff Basement; would be sneaking out of our portrait holes to meet up in the room of requirement.
It was nervous business roaming the corridors after hours, especially with Argus Filch, the caretaker, and Mrs Norris (who terrified Binx to no end) keeping a sharp lookout, but those of us on the inside wouldn’t miss it for the world.
So, while my dorm mates were either in bed or lounging in the common room, a spirited reading of ‘The Magical Histories of Hallowe’en’ being read aloud by a seventh year to an enraptured audience of every age, I inched open the portrait door and started making my way quickly down the stairs, stopping only to watch for the sixth year Ravenclaw prefect Penelope Clearwater who liked to peer her head out the entranceway every so often to catch students snogging on the stairs.
I wasn’t too worried about running into her, as I had a bit of collateral to work with: she’d been secretly dating Gryffindor prefect Percy Weasley. If I told Fred and George, he’d be teased within an inch of his life and she wouldn’t want that.
Unfortunately for me Ravenclaw tower is nowhere near the second floor corridor where the Room of Requirement resides. As I sneaked my way along the sixth floor I spotted another student with his back pressed to a corner, peeking around the darkness on the other side. I whistled low at him as a signal and his head snapped around to face me. I waved him toward me and he scampered along the wall to the empty classroom door where I was standing.
“You going to the Weasleys’?” he whispered as we ducked inside the room and soundlessly closed the door.
“Course,” I answered.
“Do you know where you’re going? I’ve got a route past the third floor but we’re sitting ducks trying to get there, I’ve heard Mrs Norris’ mews echoing all along the hallway.”
I turned around to look at the deserted classroom - Arithmancy, it looked like - and take in our surroundings. The routes on the Marauders Map were held stiffly in my mind.
“The Defence Against the Dark Arts office is on this floor,” I said. “If we make it there I’ve got a passage down to the east corridor on the third.”
He seemed to be calculating this in his head, matching mine up with his own route, then nodded and we slipped back out of the classroom.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was around the corner and we found it swiftly, climbing the balcony to the office door above. I tried the handle; it was locked.
“Did you bring your wand?” I whispered. He shrugged.
“Couldn’t risk breaking it if I get too off me head,” he smirked.
“Alright,” I muttered annoyedly, pulling my wand out of the back pocket of my jeans.
“Alohomora,” I said, and I gave the doorknob a light, if not infinitesimal tap. It took me a week to master the unlocking charm fluidly, and I was quite proud of it. The door cracked open. “Follow me.”
I led the way through the office to a far corner where an egregious bust of Gilderoy Lockhart stood. I glanced back at the boy apologetically before muttering, “Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile.” We stepped back as the bust beamed all of its glittering white teeth, then shifted aside to reveal a shadowy passageway.
When we’d scurried halfway through the chamber he said, “Aren’t you going to close it?”
I called back over my shoulder, “For seven years running!” The bust glided back into position and we were left in dusty darkness.
The passage led quickly, but windingly, down out behind a statue on the third floor (the one most commonly manned by Filch for reasons unknown). The boy then led us down a chute that spat us through the ceiling right above the landing atop the marble staircases. When I feverishly checked my wand for breaks he gave me a know-it-all look and then we strode through the wall into the Room of Requirement.
It was a sight to behold. The room had stretched to a broad common room size and the ceilings were so tall they seemed to shoot straight up into the night clouds. Indeed it had been bewitched like that of the Great Hall to portray a starry sky, but also held a bright, full moon. Several students were gliding through the air on broomsticks, performing somersaults and tricks overhead. There were towers of tottering empty mugs lined up on one wall and a giant pumpkin with a tap in its side was spewing frothy ale for waiting patrons.
The room had already filled up quite a bit and as I scanned it for a vacant armchair someone walked through the gateway and bumped right into my back. I tripped forward then moved aside as a group pushed their way through. I was walking over to the enormous fireplace when I spotted our redheaded hosts jumping and waving to me across the crowd. I waved back excitedly and gave them an open mouthed smile.
They seemed to be taking their hosts duties seriously, greeting every new arrival and showing off the wonders the Room of Requirement had supplied. While George was clapping a hand on the back of the boy I’d arrived with, Fred stared me down and started motioning across the room with his eyes. I followed his gaze and landed at the ale pumpkin where Sergius Moonblood stood filling two cups of ale in his fist, an orange and black plaid buttondown wrapped tightly around his biceps. I began to slowly weave my way through the crowd to ask him if he had any trouble getting here when I ran smack into the largest brown coat I’d ever seen.
“H-Hagrid?” I stuttered in disbelief.
“Ah, sorry ther’, Miss Twyla,” he said, helping me to my feet with an enormous hand. He was bushy, red cheeked, and clutching an entire mug filled with firewhiskey. Just then Sergius sauntered up and handed me a miniature pumpkin of butterbeer and a greeting.
“For starters,” he said, making a point of looking me in the eye.
“Mr Moonblood here’s thinkin’ ah’ runnin’ me out of a job,” Hagrid bellowed.
My mind drifted while the two discussed the intricacies of a Hungarian Horntail’s breath, but I floated back to attention when Hagrid’s jolly figure finally stomped off and Sergius sidled up next to me. He took a sip of his ale and leaned into my ear.
“So I didn’t get lost on my way here.”
“Obviously,” I replied goodnaturedly. “What route did you take?”
“Same one we did last week,” he answered. I furrowed my brow at him.
“You went through the entrance hall?” I asked angrily. He shrugged. “You could’ve been seen!”
“There were people ahead of me, they would’ve been seen first,” he replied nonchalantly. I looked at him in defeat. What magic made him so confident? I glanced back towards the fire where a chaise lounge sat unoccupied.
“Do you want to go sit down?” I asked. We wove expertly through the throng of people and I stole the seat closest to the fire. He sat down next to me and rested his elbows on his knees, eyes turned toward the flaming light.
“Come on, finish that juice so I can get you a real drink.”
“Have you even tried butterbeer? It’s delicious,” I retorted, curling my legs under me on the chaise. He waved my comment away dismissively and took another swig of mead. I finished the last sweet sip out of my little pumpkin and handed it to him. He put on a laborious show of downing the rest of his ale before smacking his lips and rising to his feet.
“Maybe no ale, this time!” I called. “Just a little firewhiskey.” I gestured how small it should be with my fingers. He smiled and shook his head.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he called back forcefully.
I waited until he disappeared into the crowd of people now gathering around a pile of dancing broomsticks at the back of the room, then turned my attention to the roaring fire and the perfect warmth of where I sat.
Suddenly, staring into the flames, I remembered I’d forgotten my jack-o-lantern outside the porthole of the Slytherin common room. I groaned aloud, then heaved a deep sigh. I couldn’t risk leaving the way I came as the gateway was set to close at one o’clock (a safety precaution the twins always put in place) and who knew where Filch might be at that hour? I stood up determinedly and began searching the party for the twins. My eyes passed over Sergius at the great pumpkin lodged in another conversation with Hagrid and used what time I had before he returned to locate George among the partygoers. I found him kneeling on the floor, and began frantically tugging at his robe sleeve. He was eagerly setting up a batch of Filibuster’s Fireworks in the way an artist admires his muse.
“George, I need to talk to you!” I shouted over the din. Wizard Rock was playing loudly from a set of wands in a glass jar, their ends glowing purple.
“Alright, Twy?” he said, still focused on the arrangement at his feet.
“I left something by the porthole - you know which one - for the party; I need a way in and and out of here.” I was more than concerned by this setback but he dismissed my tone by answering cheerily.
“No problem! Got your wand? Perfect.” He stood and dusted his hands off, admiring his handiwork. “The corner behind the pumpkin leads down to the Gryffindor common room. Hurry back, now!”
And with that he lit the fireworks with the tip of his wand. I turned away, heading in the direction he mentioned while they exploded. As I approached where Sergius was talking to Hagrid, Mr Moonblood ducked away from the half-giant and handed me another miniature pumpkin, this time filled with my request of firewhiskey.
I took it quickly and threw it all back in one gulp, much to Sergius’ surprise, then grabbed his hand and muttered, “Come on.”
While the rest of the students were watching the magnificent fireworks display; being showered by black and green glitter, I waved my wand over the corner behind the great pumpkin and pulled Sergius through. We walked a strangely fluid, winding path; one that was obscured by fog and was clearly created by the Room of Requirement to serve the hosts (and the rest of Gryffindor, most likely) in getting to and from the party. It would work just fine for us. The path emerged directly into the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, which was thankfully empty as all of the Weasleys’ roommates were at the party. We tiptoed down the stairs to the blindingly red and gold common room and quickly exited the portrait hole.
“Wait, where are we going?” Sergius whispered as we stepped into the hallway. I pressed a finger to my lips and led him across the way to the tapestry, raising it to reveal the tunnel inside. He furrowed his brow but entered the long chamber anyway, and I followed, letting the corner of the heavy tapestry fall back to the floor. I walked briskly along to the dead end side of the corridor with Sergius striding along in tow.
“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, slowing his pace even more. “What’s the rush? Relax. Come here.”
I stopped but stood rooted to the spot, not sure what ‘come here’ meant. As I caught his eyes I felt like a deer in the headlights (an adorable muggle term I learned last year from Professor Burbage), a way I realized he often made me feel.
“I just,” I stammered, “I want to show you something.” And I took his hand and we kept moving. I waved my wand to create the doorway on the left hand side.
“How many more doors are there?” he said with playful impatience.
I laughed and answered, “No more.”
We walked single file down the spiral staircase. When I saw the purple glow of my pumpkin I felt like it was a mission accomplished, even though we still had to get back up to the Room of Requirement somehow. I hugged the pumpkin, still featherweighted, in my arms.
“What’s this?” said Sergius, stepping up next to me and gazing through the porthole. I tried to look innocent and giggled when he narrowed his eyes and gave me a stern look before nonchalantly catching a glimpse through the porthole.
It was deserted, except for flickering green flames in the fireplace and to my delight Thackery Binx, who was gazing up at the huge window, swishing his tail, and watching a school of merpeople float by. Just then the Giant Squid made an appearance and Binx started batting furiously at the glass. I laughed loudly and nodded to Sergius.
“That’s my cat,” I smiled.
“Aw,” he cooed, looking closer at the porthole. “What’s she doing down there?”
“He,” I corrected. “Binx likes to explore the castle a lot. I can’t keep him cooped up in Ravenclaw tower, now can I?” Sergius smirked.
“He’s just like you.”
When we turned away to continue walking he said, “Let me carry that.”
“It’s not heavy,” I replied.
“Give it to me.”
I handed it over reluctantly and he threw it casually under one arm and then climbed the stairs behind me. My cheeks burned the whole way up when I thought of his gaze on my back. When we finally pulled back the tapestry, sauntering out casually, Filch was just passing by the Fat Lady’s portrait with Mrs Norris at his heels, not more than five feet away from us, his back thankfully turned. We doubled back, scampering silently through the tapestry, breathing hard.
My heart was racing with adrenaline and when my eyes met Sergius’ face looking down at me I couldn’t help myself and lunged forward, planting my lips on his; pressing my chest to his; kissing him feverishly. I pulled back and turned to look through a faint patch in the tapestry. Filch was gone, it was now or never. I waved him forward and he grabbed my hand firmly in his as we stalked quickly to the Gryffindor portrait hole.
“Oh, no,” I moaned. I’d forgotten to ask George for the password, and Filch or his cat could be back any second. Why couldn’t it just be a riddle like in Ravenclaw?
I quickly searched my brain for the route I’d taken into the common room two years ago. I’d just finished my essay on the basics of Transfiguration (as if there really were anyway, it’s such a complicated subject) and had turned it in early … at Professor McGonagall’s office. Without risking a word, for Mrs Norris had sharp ears, I pulled Sergius along with me up the marble staircase to the second floor. He started to walk towards the Room of Requirement but I shook my head. It would be closed by now, it was at least one o’clock. Sergius obviously didn’t know that as he furrowed his brow and tried to pull me down the corridor. I looked around exasperatedly, when suddenly a shrill gasp of horror from my own throat made us both stop in our tracks.
What was unmistakably an Acromantula, at least twenty feet tall, was creeping down the hallway, it’s great spindly legs rounding the corridor. I immediately turned and ran as fast as I could back down the staircase, my voice frozen in my throat.
When I hit the landing I summoned my bravery and whirled around. I wanted to scream for help, for a teacher, anybody; who cared if I got in trouble? But I couldn’t see the massive spider’s looming form anymore, instead, as my eyes travelled back up the stairway, I found Sergius walking slowly backward; captured mutely the way I was, but he was facing the immense twisting form of a serpent. I’d never seen a basilisk, only in textbook drawings, but the huge dripping fangs of this enormous snake brought the word immediately to mind.
I finally recognized the creature for what it was and whipped out my wand just as Sergius’ foot began to fumble down the first step.
“Ridikulus!” I cried, and there was a clear loud crack as the serpent turned into a tiny gecko and landed at Sergius’ feet.
We had been graced with the mischance of encountering a boggart. Someone had obviously set it loose in the school as a Halloween joke, or at least as a cruel prank on any disobedient students by Filch; it was usually stored safely inside the faculty room wardrobe for use in Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. I ran back up the staircase and rounded on Sergius.
“Are you okay?” he nodded, but seemed a bit pale. The gecko had begun to squirm it’s way back down the corridor, but I pointed my wand at it again and simply stated this time, “Ridikulus.” Another crack and it disappeared. Professor Lupin would have to find a new boggart for his class, because I wasn’t going to risk running into that one again tonight or any other.
“Boggart?” Sergius breathed suddenly. I nodded my head. He furrowed his brow and nodded back. I kissed him gently on the cheek and some of the colour returned to his face.
“Somebody definitely heard that,” I whispered, “we’ve got to go.”
We stole quickly down the hallway, still terrified, hearts pounding in our chests and came upon Professor McGonagall’s office. I tapped the door lock with my wand, mouthed, “Alohomora,” then crept in. Sergius shifted the pumpkin to his other arm and swapped my hand - it was burning with the heat from his.
Professor McGonagall herself had a simple stairwell leading down to the Gryffindor common room disguised as a portrait. She was head of house, after all. We had to climb on her desk to reach the painterly stairway, so I supposed McGonagall must normally use this when she’s in her animagus form - a cat. We came out through another portrait, this time of Godric Gryffindor himself. It swung open and closed to admit us almost of it’s own accord. Luckily, he was asleep in the frame.
We wasted no time creeping up to the boys’ dormitory, through the ghostly tunnel, and back behind the ale pumpkin in the Room of Requirement. Loud cheers erupted as soon as we stumbled through the corner gateway and I looked around, confused.
Fred piped up from among the crowd, “We were watching on the Marauder’s Map the whole time! Filch was constantly on your tail-”
“And you completely disappeared from the map twice!” George added, hopping forward to shake Sergius’ hand.
“Don’t look at me,” he said with a small smile. I took a dramatic bow and the party applauded.
“Anyway, here you go guys.”
I motioned towards my jack-o-lantern and waved my wand. It floated out of Mr Moonblood’s hands to hover over the dancefloor where a group of skeletons (likely the ones that had entertained staff and students at the feast in the Great Hall) had joined the students and broomsticks in the center of the room.
Just then Sergius wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me, carrying me over to an empty armchair by the fireplace. He sat down with me in his lap and I could feel him sniffing my hair, his arms still tight around my middle. The plush seat was turned towards the fire and I had to face Sergius to avoid its heat. He grabbed the back of my neck in one hand and pulled my face to his to give me a kiss. I blushed and looked down at my hands.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. I looked around the room but no one seemed to be paying us any extra mind.
“I’m thirsty,” I replied, sliding off his lap and onto the chair as he got to his feet.
“Don’t even think about getting up this time,” he said offhandedly as he walked again over to the giant pumpkin. Hagrid seemed to be dozing there in the corner with his enormous arm around it like it was an old chum.
I fidgeted nervously in my seat, still trying to quell the sight of the Acromantula from my mind until Sergius returned holding a mug and another small pumpkin. I reached toward the latter but he shook his head and thrust the mug at me. It appeared to have a mini pumpkin nestled inside its frothy depths of mead. He gulped down his firewhisky in two casual shots then nodded for me to drink mine.
“What is it?” I asked apprehensively.
“You drink it all really fast.”
“I can’t.”
He gave me a look that said I didn’t really have a choice.
“Slytherin,” I muttered under my breath.
I took a few deep inhales, in and out, then brought the gigantic glass mug to my face and struggled through all my perseverance to get it down. When it was empty except for the foam covered pumpkin sitting at the bottom, I set it on the ground and wiped at my face with the sleeve of my sweater. I felt dizzy as he stood me up, collapsed down on the armchair, and pulled me into his lap again. Feeling excited yet tired, I looked back at the party and laughed; everyone seemed to be having a good time, and the twins were still beaming. I was happy for them. The last time they’d tried to hold a party like this was at the end of last term, but somebody had let it slip and they got two weeks detention. Obviously, the party was cancelled.
When Sergius cleared his throat loudly, as if to convey his jealousy that my attention had shifted elsewhere, I giggled and looked back down at him.
His blue eyes were just as intoxicating as the drink and I found my head falling toward his. We kissed and this time did not stop, to my memory, until I woke up the next morning in Ravenclaw tower, fully dressed, on top of my bed.



I let all the past night’s events flood back to me before I even bothered to move and then smiled nostalgically into my pillow.
For the first time since I came to Hogwarts I felt like I was really part of something. No amount of showing up to Quidditch games or house patriotism could make me feel like I belonged; even the twins and I exploring the castle together didn’t have quite the desired effect when we went off to our private social lives (or lack thereof, in my case) afterwards. Sergius made me feel like I had an undeniable place in this world; like I was worth something to somebody.
When I sat up in bed I felt surprisingly clear-headed but was disgruntled by a curious crinkling noise coming from my pants pocket. I struggled to pull out a small, clear candy wrapper that read ‘Fizzing Whizzies’. That would explain why I could barely recall the arduous journey back to my dormitory the previous night - apparently I’d volunteered to take one of the Weasley Twins’ experimental hangover cures. It wasn’t often they concocted something to actually help people. I made a mental note to alert them of this memory-charm side effect whenever the next meal was in the Great Hall, but then realized they probably did that on purpose.
After peering down the dormitory stairs to find a fairly empty common room, I sat on my blue four poster bed and peeled off my jeans, socks, black and white cat sweater, and undergarments. I checked the time on Iris Pembers’ muggle alarm clock on the nightstand. Quarter to twelve; lunch was in fifteen minutes. I dug through my clothes trunk for a parka I could wear over my leggings and white t-shirt. It was November after all and I always went down to Honeyduke’s in the village for the post Halloween sweet sale. You could basically buy what was left of the store for a galleon. I tucked my miniaturized chest into my coat pocket for refilling and then hopped down the stairs and out the portrait hole.