𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘐𝘌𝘋/𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 (English version)

Chapter 31🎃

Halloween was one of the school's most beloved holidays; everyone looked forward to that day not only to enjoy a bit of free time but also to celebrate and spend the night together, often in the Great Hall. In previous years, the sixth-year students had been given the task of organizing the Halloween party; the seventh years took care of the pre-Christmas event, while the fifth years were responsible for Easter. Everything was divided up so that the burden of organization didn't always fall on the same group.

There were four people in charge of managing everything, and as always, their names were drawn in the Great Hall.
Naturally, Sarah cheered enthusiastically when she heard her name called out loud; she had been hoping for that responsibility since the previous year, but luck hadn't been on her side. The fifth-year boy pulled other names out of a hat, precisely three more.
"Sophia Ivory," he announced, and the Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers upon hearing one of their own called.
Sarah turned toward Hermione, irritated.
"I'm backing out. I'm not doing anything with her!"
Ivory still hadn't left her alone since the attack on Cormac, who was now back at school as if nothing had happened. When he passed by Sarah, he lowered his head, avoiding her gaze.
The Hufflepuff girl smiled at her, already planning to make the job a real nightmare for her.

"Anthony Goldstein." This news reassured the girl; finally, a friendly face. The boy had been in Dumbledore's Army the previous year, supporting Harry's cause. Anthony smiled, raising a thumbs-up toward Black.
"And the last person is...Tom Riddle."
Silence. No one made a single comment about Riddle having to help organize the party, even though most might have thought he was suited for the role: a Halloween party organized by the strangest, quietest, and most unsettling boy in school...perfect, right?
~~~~
"At least you have two other people with you, Sarah; try to look on the bright side," Pansy said, fixing her makeup while sitting in front of the mirror in her room.
"Sure, I know Anthony, and he'll be fun, but Tom? He hasn't talked to me since the match."
Pansy looked at her, confused.
"What? He hasn't said a word to you? That's strange..."
"Very. He seemed so happy the night we kissed."
She threw herself onto her friend's bed, hiding her face among the pillows. She was confused and didn't know what to do.
The door opened, letting Daphne Greengrass enter.
"Still moping over Tom?" she said, searching for her Potions book among those on her desk.
Sarah didn't reply; she simply gave a thumbs-up.
Daphne laughed, shifting the pile of things around in search of her book.
"He's in the common room. Actually, I think the whole group is about to come up here."
A knock at the door made Sarah lift her head, her stomach twisting. She jumped up, panicking.
"How do I look? Do I look like someone who threw herself onto a bed just three seconds ago?"
She hurriedly tried to fix her messy hair. Pansy turned toward her, hiding a laugh.
"Stop it. He's seen you throw up in his arms back in fifth year. I doubt a stray hair will bother him."
Daphne opened the door, letting the boys in, who promptly took over the empty beds.
"Oh, sure, make yourselves at home," the blonde said, going back to searching for her book.
Pansy got up from her chair, still watching Sarah, who hadn't yet turned to greet them. She was biting her lower lip so hard she could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth.
"Where's the strong Black I know? Come on, Sarah, you've known him for years," she whispered.
"It's not the same as before, and you know it," she replied, her flushed face a clear sign of how much his presence wasn't normal for her anymore.
Tom sat on Pansy's bed, watching as the two whispered words no one else could understand.
"This whispering is driving me crazy. Can you two start talking like normal people?"
Blaise said, rubbing his temples.
Pansy shot him a look, "You're the intruders, so don't say another word."
Sarah moved to the window, hoping to see if any letters had arrived from her parents.
"Still nothing?" Enzo asked, fiddling with a stuffed toy he found on Daphne's bed.
The Gryffindor shook her head, finally turning toward them. Since returning to school, she hadn't received anything from them. She had expected it, though it didn't make her feel any better. A part of her wanted to set her pride aside and write first, but she knew that would be impossible for her.