The Tangled World!

Harry Hates Halloween: Round 1

Harry had never liked Halloween. It was always a day when Dudley got to go out and obtain obscene amounts of candy, while he was forced to stay "out of sight" in his cupboard. All-in-all, it was far from an ideal experience. His opinion of the day did not improve upon his return to the magical world, whereupon he learned that it was the day that his parents died.

His opinion of the day dropped even further when he learned that the wizarding world celebrated said day in remembrance of his defeat of Voldemort.

Which, as it happened, was a feat that he didn't remember accomplishing and that cost him any chance of having a normal childhood.

So no, Harry did not like Halloween.

Of course, since it was the anniversary of the day he "defeated" Voldemort, he expected even more well-wishers and boy-who-lived fans than usual.

Harry was never more grateful that Zabini never said anything to him, ever. A silent roommate was one of the best things he could have asked for. And man, was Zabini ever silent. If they weren't required to use incantations to cast spells, he didn't think he'd even know what Zabini's voice sounded like.

He left his dorm room to see the familiar sight of Hermione leaning up against the wall, nose buried in a book. What had started as Hermione's desire not to be left alone had since become a comfortable routine between the two of them. They enjoyed each other's company, and didn't enjoy the company of others.

"Get ready, Hermione. I suspect it's going to be a trying day."

Harry would later muse just how correct that suspicion was, even if it wasn't for the reasons he expected.

"It's hopeless." Neville muttered to himself after he – yet again – failed to cast the levitation spell. "I'm hopeless at magic."

Malfoy scoffed at Neville's self-deprecation. "Probably because you're using such garbage wand. Couldn't your grandmother afford to get you a new one, Longbottom?"

Neville frowned at the wand in his hand, the small scratches and abrasions from years of wear and tear evident on its surface.

"It was my dad's wand. Gran said that he was a great wizard and that if I use it, I should be great, too."

"Well that's rubbish. Get yourself a new wand. I'm sure McGonagall would be fine with a brief excursion to Diagon to get a replacement."

"I dunno, Draco, Gran's scary..."

"So is McGonagall, and if you won't go to her, then I will. I won't imagine she'll be happy that one of her students is sabotaging himself."

Neville shuddered at the prospect of an angry McGonagall tracking him down. He only had to live with his Gran for two months of the year, while he was around McGonagall for the remaining ten.

"I'll talk to her about it after classes today."

"You'll talk to her about it sooner." Draco said. "I'd hate to have to go through the effort of telling her myself."

"So would I..." Neville muttered.

"So," Minerva began, "we're two months into the new year, and I think it's high time we check in with each other again. Making sure no one's falling behind academically, preventing students' personal crises when we can, and, perhaps most importantly, see how our new students are settling in. I think the fact that we continue to do that last one is even more vital given the... oddities that happened at the welcoming feast."

Minerva did not feel the need to specifically mention the sorting. It would be unprofessional to mention the outlier students by name, after all.

"Pomona, anything to mention?"