Chapter 254

Inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the Halloween feast was in full swing. Floating jack-o'-lanterns hovered in the air, their eerie candlelight casting mottled shadows across the ceiling. The tables groaned under the weight of every imaginable delicacy, from golden pumpkin pies to steaming beef casseroles, their rich aromas filling the air. Students chattered excitedly about recent gossip, and a few were already eagerly anticipating the arrival of Christmas. Dumbledore sat at the staff table, beaming as he clinked goblets with Slughorn, the pine liqueur in his hand exhaling a faint, fruity fragrance. Slughorn’s face was already somewhat flushed; he clapped Dumbledore on the shoulder and loudly recounted some of the "legendary exploits" of his youth. Dumbledore smiled in silence—he had barely spoken all evening, content to simply drink, the familiar, shrewd sparkle in his eyes shining brighter than ever.