Chapter 21 Halloween Curiosity
Hogwarts transformed for Halloween long before the actual night arrived.
It began subtly—floating lanterns flickering to life in the corridors, carved pumpkins appearing with their own mischievous expressions, and an occasional burst of enchanted confetti drifting lazily from the ceiling. By the time the holiday neared, the entire castle seemed alive with a festive hum vibrating through stone and tapestry.
Liora adored every bit of it.
She hadn’t experienced anything like this before. At home on Privet Drive, holidays were as dull as the Dursleys’ personalities: stiff decorations, silent dinners, and barely any joy. But here? Hogwarts practically breathed celebration.
Which is why she couldn’t stay put.
After classes ended and her friends gathered in the common room discussing sweets and costume ideas for the upcoming feast, Liora slipped out—wand tucked behind her ear, cloak pulled tight, curiosity lighting her steps.
“I’ll just look around for a bit,” she’d said, though she suspected she’d wander far more than she intended.
As she stepped into the main hallways, she felt a thrill. Pumpkin-shaped lanterns bobbed like friendly spirits, casting warm orange light over the ancient stones. Shadows danced playfully, making the castle feel almost enchanted in a new, whimsical way.
She smiled up at them, letting the gentle glow soothe her nerves after days of tension—days of stolen glances with Mattheo Riddle, of whispered warnings and the knowledge that a Slytherin student had seen them studying together. She hadn’t spoken to Mattheo since the encounter, though he had looked at her once across the Great Hall, a flick of his gaze that sent her heart flipping.
But tonight wasn’t about him. Not entirely.
It was about Hogwarts—it was about magic—and Liora wanted to enjoy every piece of it.
The Great Hall: A Halloween Marvel
She pushed open the doors.
“Oh—wow.”
The Great Hall looked like something from a child’s dream. Hundreds of lanterns floated overhead, shaped like jack-o’-lanterns, cats, bats, and even miniature ghosts. The ceiling enchanted itself into a swirling storm of deep purples and blacks, where ghostly shapes drifted like constellations.
The long tables were lined with shimmering runners of silver and gold, and even the goblets glowed faintly with autumn charm.
Students bustled around, laughing, placing early decorations, or chasing runaway bewitched candies.
Liora watched first years chasing a floating caramel apple that kept swooping just out of reach.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
But after a moment she drifted away—searching for unseen corners, new corridors, anything she hadn’t explored yet.
Her curiosity, as always, tugged her deeper into the castle.
The Untraveled Corridor
Liora wandered down a staircase she’d never noticed before—one tucked behind a tapestry of a wizard being chased by flying vegetables. The stairs spiralled downward in a gentle curve, illuminated only by candle sconces that ignited as she passed.
“This is new…” she murmured.
At the bottom, the corridor widened into a long hall lined with windows overlooking the lake. Mist clung to the edges of the glass, and the faint silhouettes of the giant squid’s tentacles moved lazily in the distance.
The hall was quiet—peaceful. No students, no noise, just the occasional drip of condensation and the glow of flickering blue lanterns.
Liora breathed in the stillness.
Until a chill slid over her skin.
She stopped mid-step.
Something felt… off. Not like the warm Halloween magic filling the rest of the castle. This was colder—older.
“Is someone… there?” she whispered, turning in a slow, careful circle.
Silence.
But something shifted behind her.
She whirled around, wand already drawn, remembering the way Mattheo held his wand—loose, confident—as though danger never surprised him.
Liora tried to imitate it. Her grip wobbled slightly.
A tiny laugh escaped the shadows. Not human. Not friendly.
A shape fluttered overhead, and Liora ducked instinctively—her heart leaping into her throat.
A Boggart? No, too small.
A ghost? No… ghosts didn't giggle like that.
The flickering lantern light caught something—something small and leathery, with too-wide eyes and long sharp fingers.
“Oh no…” Liora whispered.
It wasn’t dangerous by wizard standards, but—
“A redcap? Here? Indoors?”
It crawled down a column like a grotesque spider, eyes gleaming with mischief. Redcaps were nasty little creatures that enjoyed tormenting unsuspecting wanderers. Dumbledore certainly wouldn’t allow one loose in the castle.
Meaning… it had escaped from somewhere.
“Shoo,” Liora tried, her voice shaky. “Go away!”
It hissed.
She took a step back, her wand lifting instinctively. “St–stay back— I’m warning you!”
The redcap lunged.
“Aguamenti!” she shouted, aiming just as it leapt.
A jet of water shot from her wand—too forceful, too uncontrolled—and blasted the creature in the face. The redcap screeched, tumbling backward in a spray of droplets.
“Yes!” Liora cried triumphantly.
Except—
The spell didn’t stop.
Water kept spraying from her wand like a fire hose gone mad, whipping around the corridor, drenching the tapestries, smashing into the windows with alarming force.
“Oh no—no no no—stop! Finite!” she cried.
But the stream didn’t falter.
The redcap screeched again and fled down the hall, slipping through a crack in the wall. Liora stumbled backward as her wand bucked like a wild broom, spraying water everywhere.
She needed to calm down. She needed to—
“Liora!”
A familiar voice cut through the chaos.
Before she could react, a hand closed around her wrist—steady, sure—and guided her wand downward.
“Focus,” Mattheo hissed close to her ear. “You’re panicking.”
She swallowed, nodding shakily.
“Finite.” His voice was firm, grounded.
This time, her magic listened.
The water tapered off into a thin mist and vanished altogether. Liora gasped, lowering her wand, dripping wet from head to toe.
Mattheo stepped back—not too far—but enough to assess her.
“What were you doing down here?” he demanded, though his tone was more concerned than angry.
“I—I was exploring,” she said weakly. “It’s Halloween. The decorations, the lanterns— I just wanted to see everything.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then, softer: “You could’ve been hurt.”
Her breath caught. “It was just a redcap.”
“Just a redcap?” His eyes flashed. “Liora, those things nearly killed a fifth-year two decades ago.”
She blinked, taken aback. “I didn’t know.”
“That’s the problem,” he muttered.
But his irritation wasn’t sharp—it felt layered with worry.
Liora whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Mattheo exhaled, running a hand through his hair, droplets flicking off. “It’s not— You don’t need to apologize. But don’t wander alone into unexplored corridors. Not right now.”
Not right now.
The words echoed with unspoken meaning. Something heavier, something she didn’t understand.
Liora glanced around the drenched hallway. “I made quite a mess.”
Mattheo’s lips twitched. “An understatement.”
But then he flicked his wand, muttering a precise spell she didn’t recognize, and the water evaporated in shimmering steam.
Liora stared. “How did you do that?”
“Practice,” he said shortly. But there was something else in his gaze—something that hinted he wanted to say more.
She shivered—not from cold, but from awareness.
Mattheo noticed instantly.
Without speaking, he shrugged off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. She froze.
“It’s warm,” he said quietly. “Just take it.”
Her cheeks heated. But she didn’t take it off.
They stood there, alone in the lantern-lit corridor, just the two of them and the lingering scent of steam.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Mattheo held her gaze for a moment too long. “Don’t mention it.”
He hesitated, then stepped closer, lowering his voice. “And Liora?”
“Yes?”
“Next time you want to explore Hogwarts…” His lips tilted in a faint, dangerous smirk. “Ask me to come with you.”
Her breath hitched.
“I—I didn’t think you’d want to.”
His eyes softened—barely. “Maybe I do.”