Halloween had arrived.
As twilight melted into dusk, the students emerged from their dorms, one by one, wearing the costumes the school had provided them. They were not the silly sort of costumes worn by Muggle children. These were elegant, enchanted garments, woven from moon-thread and illusion silk, tailored to fit each student as if by magic—because, of course, they were.
Eira stood before the mirror in her dormitory, breath catching as she took in her reflection. Her dress shimmered like twilight: soft lavender and deep blue, embroidered with silver constellations that sparkled as she moved. It wasn't overly ornate—just enough to make her feel like herself, only more… radiant. Her long hair was braided and adorned with tiny flickering lights that looked like fireflies. As she turned, the lights drifted around her head like a halo.
Ana, in contrast, wore a flowing forest-green gown with long sleeves and ivy-like embroidery that curled over her shoulder. A delicate circlet of polished rosewood sat in her chestnut hair. She looked like a woodland enchantress.
The two girls met outside their dorm, their faces lighting up when they saw one another.
"Eira," Ana whispered, "you look like a starlit sorceress."
"And you look like green forest come alive," Eira replied.
Ana grinned, looping her arm through her's. "Shall we go? I don't want to miss a single moment."
Together, they walked along the stone path winding toward the Grand Star Hall, the heart of Beauxbâtons.
The hall had been transformed.
Where its marble columns had once stood bare, now they were wrapped in ivy and silver ribbons. Candles floated mid-air, flickering in perfect harmony with the soft notes of harp and violin that drifted through the room. The high arched ceiling had been enchanted to reflect the night sky—brilliant with stars, nebulae, and even the occasional shooting comet trailing fire across the heavens.
Tables stretched in three long rows, each one marked with a glimmering banner:Bellefeuille, Ombrelune, and Papillonlisse—the three houses of Beauxbâtons. At the center of it all, a grand crescent-shaped platform was adorned with glittering vines and autumn roses. That was where Madame Maxime now stood, her towering form regal and commanding in a deep plum gown embroidered with golden leaves.
She lifted her arms, and the hall fell silent.
"Mes chères élèves," her voice rang clear, deep, and warm, "tonight is a night of wonder, of remembrance, and of joy. Halloween is a time when the veil between our world and the unknown grows thin. It is a night for magic and for stories, for celebration and for courage."
Eira leaned forward slightly, her heart fluttering.
"Here at Beauxbâtons," Madame Maxime continued, "we honor both tradition and creativity. You, my dear students, are the future of our magical world. Tonight, let that future shine. Dance. Feast. Laugh. And above all—dream."
A gentle wave of applause swept through the hall as Madame Maxime descended the platform. Almost immediately, a hush fell again—followed by a sudden, bright fanfare.
From the side doors, a group of older students emerged—sixth- and seventh-years, dressed in swirling robes of silver and black. The music swelled, changing into something bold and rich, and the seniors began to dance.
And what a dance it was.
Eira's eyes widened as she watched them glide across the floor in perfect synchrony. They moved with a kind of effortless grace, as if gravity had been enchanted to loosen its grip just for them. At one point, a pair of dancers lifted into the air and spun mid-flight, their robes flaring around them like wings. Spells laced the air—tiny bursts of color, illusions of ravens and roses, glowing butterflies that shimmered and disappeared into smoke.
It was like watching a fairy tale unfold in real time.
When the performance ended, the hall erupted into applause and cheering. Students were on their feet, clapping, laughing, enchanted by the spectacle. The senior dancers bowed and exited, some blowing kisses to younger students, others just grinning with pride.
Eira turned to Ana , cheeks flushed with wonder. "That was incredible."
"I want to learn that," Ana said, eyes gleaming.
"They have a performance club," Marin who suddenly appeared beside them added. "We could join next year."
Before they could say more, the tables shimmered—and food appeared, steaming and fresh.
French cuisine, of course. Platters of roasted duck with orange glaze, salmon en croûte, truffle potatoes, and delicate vegetable tarts. Baskets of warm baguettes and golden croissants were passed around, accompanied by soft pats of honey-butter and charmed strawberry jam. There were cheeses—so many cheeses—and bowls of glazed chestnuts, poached pears, and sugared apples.
For dessert, platters of mille-feuille, éclairs, crème brûlée, and little sugar mice that squeaked if you bit their tails.
Eira barely knew where to begin.
They ate and laughed and shared bites off one another's plates, trading pastries and favorites. At one point, a tiny pumpkin-shaped cake exploded in Marin's hand—showering his with gold dust and whipped cream. He shrieked, and the others collapsed in laughter, even as He dabbed cream off her nose and huffed.
The mood was electric. Students from all houses mingled, some even sneaking out onto the floor to dance once the music shifted again—now more lively, full of fiddles and tambourines. Professors wandered the hall as well, laughing and sipping spiced cider, clearly content to let the students revel.
Fleur stopped by the Ombrelune table to wink at Eira. She was dressed in a sleek, icy-blue gown that seemed to float around her like mist. "You look beautiful," she said, voice teasing. "Having fun, little bunny?"
Eira blushed. "More than I expected."
"Good. I'll steal you for a dance later," Fleur said with a playful smile.
Eira blushed, replying, "Thanks, but I'm not much of a dancer, and my clothes aren't exactly dance-worthy. Still, I promise you a dance."
"Alright, you owe me one, and trust me, I'll claim that dance," Fleur teased, before gliding away like a breeze under moonlight.
Eira turned back to Ana and Marin, cheeks warm.
"Was that…?" Ana began, arching a brow.
"Nothing," Eira said quickly. "She was asking for a dance and I declined ."
Marin gasped dramatically, "Nooo, how could you turn down a dance with a goddess like her? Oh, Merlin, why didn't she ask me? I would have agreed immediately " His exaggerated expressions sent both girls into fits of laughter.