Chapter Seventy-Five: The Grand Feast After the Calamity

"What did Mother say to you?" As she saw Hewen emerge from behind the polished door, Helena hurried over, curiosity lighting her eyes.

"Nothing much," Hewen replied with a gentle smile, taking the initiative to grasp Helena’s right hand. "Hogwarts seems especially lively tonight. Shall we take a stroll together?"

Helena glanced at him, a cheerful smile curling at her lips.

...

November 1st, 1937, All Hallows’ Eve.

That night, a handful of stars hung scattered across the sky, peeking in and out of the clouds. The deep blue clouds above were thick and heavy, as if the air itself still lingered in the festive, ghostly spirit of Halloween.

From time to time, winds would scatter the clouds, revealing a slender crescent moon—much like Helena’s eyes when she smiled.

Hand in hand, Hewen and Helena wandered above the castle, admiring the enchanting nocturnal scenery.

"Hogwarts rarely glows with so many lights this late at night," Helena observed, floating atop the Astronomy Tower, her voice tinged with wonder.

The Astronomy Tower, the tallest in the complex, afforded a commanding view over the castle’s main keep. Its myriad lights shone brilliantly, their reflections scattered like shattered jewels across the lake below.

Though it was already past curfew, scarcely a light had gone out within the castle. The young witches and wizards roamed freely, celebrating the restoration of Hogwarts, boasting of their courage during recent events, or exaggerating their contributions to repairing the castle.

Headmaster Dippet, upon seeing such joy, softened his heart for once and lifted the curfew for the evening, allowing the students to revel a while longer. Their jubilant cheers echoed far and wide, audible even to Hewen and Helena atop the Astronomy Tower.

Listening to the students’ laughter, Hewen and Helena exchanged knowing smiles.

...

Yet happiness is always fleeting. Their moment alone was soon interrupted by a chubby little ghost.

"Mr. Strange, I’ve finally found you!" The plump Edmund Grubb appeared out of nowhere, looking up at Ghost Hewen with eager anticipation. "A group of us ghosts gathered and decided that such an important day deserves a feast to properly celebrate the restoration of the castle!"

"Everything else is ready—we’re just short of a bit of food. So I took on the arduous task of inviting you to the Ghost Hall for a little spell..."

"You’re just craving a taste, aren’t you..." Hewen saw through Grubb’s ploy at once, exposing him without mercy.

"Haha, well... that’s part of it, I suppose. But really, I’m doing it for the greater good of all the ghosts!" Grubb laughed sheepishly, then tried to compose himself with a more righteous tone.

"Pfft!" Unable to hold back her amusement at Grubb’s antics, Helena let the interruption pass without complaint.

With a playful arch of her brows, she turned to Hewen. "Let’s go, then. No need to keep everyone waiting. Besides, I’m feeling a little peckish myself!"

"Let’s be on our way!" Hewen laughed, lighthearted.

Traversing from the highest point of the castle, the Astronomy Tower, down to the Ghost Hall in the dungeons was no short journey. But the peculiar convenience of being a ghost made all the difference—the three of them passed through walls and floors in a straight line, arriving at the Ghost Hall in no time.

Nearly Headless Nick was the first to spot them and greeted them warmly.

"Ah, Doctor Strange, welcome!" Sir Nicholas exclaimed. "I heard from the Deputy Headmaster—you were wrongly accused. Allow me to congratulate you on your vindication!"

Hewen smiled politely. "Thank you, Sir Nicholas."

"And there’s more to celebrate," Nicholas continued. "Headmaster Dippet and Deputy Headmistress Melus jointly endorsed your entry into the Ghost Council. After our internal vote, we unanimously agreed to admit you as one of us!"

"Thank you all very much," Hewen replied, though the position itself meant little to him—he was more curious about something else. "What about the Bloody Baron? Did he agree to my admission as well?" Hewen asked suspiciously, recalling the grudge between them, not to mention having taken the Baron’s sword. The Bloody Baron hardly seemed the compromising sort.

"Oh, the Baron? After his mistake yesterday, he resigned from the council himself. He’s currently reflecting in an abandoned classroom," Nicholas said with a note of reflection.

Hewen nodded, then turned to Helena. "And what about you, Helena? Aren’t you a council member?"

"I hardly bother attending their tedious meetings," Helena replied with a wry twist of her lips. "Perhaps they’ve already excluded me!"

At her words, Nicholas grew flustered. "Ahem—Lady Grey, please, we would never exclude you! Given your relationship with Doctor Strange, your support was assured, so we simply counted it as a unanimous vote."

"That’s more like it," Helena said with a satisfied nod.

"Well then, let me open the Mirror Space. Grubb looks like he can hardly wait!" Hewen said with a chuckle.

Waves, as if formed by countless transparent mirrors, swept through the Ghost Hall, drawing all the ghosts into the mirrored space.

Though most present had already experienced the restoration of their senses before, delight still lit their faces. This time, however, few were moved to tears.

Hewen silently recalled the dishes from last night’s Halloween Feast and, drawing upon the laws of the space, conjured exquisite dishes out of thin air onto the long table in the Ghost Hall—much to Grubb’s drooling delight.

The Fat Friar beamed as he stood at the center, raising a glass of wine from the table and calling out loudly, "To Mister Strange!"

Perhaps it was the long absence from wine, or perhaps social customs had changed over time, but his gesture was a little awkward. Still, the other ghosts gamely followed suit, raising their glasses in even stranger fashions and chorusing, "To Mister Strange!"

With a smile, Hewen conjured two crystal-clear glasses of wine for himself and Helena, picking his up with the refined etiquette Sandrine had once taught him—of the true aristocracy of the wizarding world—to return the toast.

All the ghosts tossed back these drinks—which, though rich in flavor, could not intoxicate spirits—in a single draught.

"So, do they really let the young students drink wine at the Halloween Feast?" Helena teased, leaning toward Hewen after her glass was empty.

Hewen laughed softly, knowing Helena had already guessed his trick for conjuring the dishes.

"The wine, of course, is reserved for the professors’ table!"

...

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