"Professor Dumbledore, you're back?"
Adam nearly dropped the parchment in his hands, spinning around quickly.
By the warm glow of the fireplace, Dumbledore stood warming his hands, the ice crystals on his sleeves melting slowly. He gave Adam a playful wink.
Since that Potions class, Adam had rarely seen Dumbledore outside of public settings. Even during weekend meals in the Great Hall, the Headmaster's seat at the staff table was often empty.
This reminded Adam of two days ago at noon, when George and Fred had set up a small table at the corner of the library corridor, sparking a school-wide betting craze.
A parchment covered in spiderweb designs hung in front of their table, with glowing ink proclaiming, "Will the Headmaster Show Up for Halloween?"
George scribbled odds with a quill, while Fred jingled a carved coin pouch, surrounded by a chattering crowd, the clinking of coins filling the air.
The betting pool for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was even livelier.
After hearing that Cedric had earned enough to buy a new broomstick by selling quills, the twins eagerly jumped into the game.
As their pouches grew heavy with coins, they boldly offered outrageous odds.
"Hogg to Stay: 12:1" was scrawled in red ink, displayed prominently on their table.
Everyone hoped Professor Hogg could break the curse and stay, but most students knew the odds weren't in his favor.
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Gryffindor's Quidditch team tossed a few Knuts into the "Stay" jar as a token gesture, then dumped a pile of Sickles into the sack labeled "Curse Wins."
But the first-years were full of hope, especially the Ravenclaws.
Ever since they learned Professor Hogg was a brilliant Ravenclaw alumnus, those starry-eyed eaglets didn't hesitate to stack their hard-earned Sickles on the "Stay" side.
They ignored the infamous "Defense Against the Dark Arts Curse," which saw professors rarely lasting more than three months.
"They even came up with secret betting codes for each house," Aiden said, recounting how Ravenclaw students, lugging heavy books from the library, would gather at the twins' table, flashing "Hogg Will Win" in glowing letters with their wands.
Some Ravenclaws, with their blue-and-white scarves, had been lingering outside the Defense classroom lately. Whenever Professor Hogg appeared, they'd watch him with awe and fiery support, bowing and cheering him on.
They clutched parchments emblazoned with the Ravenclaw eagle, written in deep blue ink brimming with hope.
"Why do you all seem so surprised to see me?"
Dumbledore's face held a gentle smile, his blue eyes twinkling with curiosity behind his half-moon glasses.
Adam's gaze drifted to the crackling fireplace, his tone a bit awkward. "I just thought you were too busy to even make it for Halloween."
Professor McGonagall, noticing Dumbledore's arrival, was equally surprised. The towering stack of papers in front of her belonged in the Headmaster's office.
"Albus, perfect timing," she said. "Madam Pomfrey submitted a request to add more beds to the hospital wing—it needs your signature. And Professor Sprout's asking for a new greenhouse to grow Venomous Tentacula…"
Dumbledore's smile froze as his eyes landed on the messy shopping list in Shirley's hand.
"I'm guessing you lot haven't sorted out your gifts yet," he said. "I'm heading to Gringotts, so I can exchange some Muggle money for you."
Adam's hand shot up, tugging lightly at Shirley's sleeve. "Can we come with you? Friday nights, the shops usually have great discounts."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, sensing there was more to Adam's request. "Care to tell me why?"
Adam hesitated, then lowered his voice. "If we just leave a donation, the matrons at the orphanage won't spend it. They're always so careful with money… not that it's a bad thing."
He glanced away from the fireplace, his eyes settling on the Quidditch pitch outside, bathed in golden autumn light. Figures on broomsticks zipped through the air, faint cheers echoing in the distance.
"I bet they think a few Halloween pumpkin pasties aren't as practical as an extra egg for the kids' breakfast."
He murmured, his thoughts drifting back to the orphanage. Every year around this time was tough. The meager heating subsidy wouldn't arrive until December, so the matrons would take the kids to gather unwanted firewood in the nearby woods.
They kept their hands hidden, not wanting donors to see the blisters from their hard work.
"Instead of worrying about the coming winter all the time—"
Adam's voice faltered as he reached for the coin pouch tucked under his robe.
"I've saved up enough lately. This should get the 'family' through to next spring."
Dumbledore nodded silently. Behind him, McGonagall set down her quill and ruffled Adam's hair.
"You sound so much like another Albus standing by this fireplace," she said. "I think you deserve a happy Halloween too."
She paused, then walked to her desk, pulling out a heavy coin pouch and handing it to Dumbledore. "This is for those kids."
Turning to Adam, her voice softened but carried a gentle warning. "But you need to understand, Adam, even if you keep giving them your money, it won't fix things for good."
Adam nodded obediently, his fingers brushing the wand hidden in his sleeve.
He didn't mention the plan he'd been mulling over for ages.
In the orphanage's basement, that moldy old room still held traces of Tom Riddle. Preserved animal specimens, half-finished experiments, and faint snake-like carvings in the corner.
If he could save up enough, maybe he could turn it into a special exhibit. Glass cases displaying the Dark Lord's early relics, with a noseless, green-glowing dummy in the corner for punching—five Knuts a hit. Plenty of wizards, especially those hurt by Death Eaters, would pay for that.
Or maybe he could yank Voldemort's soul from a Horcrux and stuff it into the dummy for authentic sound effects.
That'd cost a bit more, though, and he'd have to watch out for any vengeful Death Eaters.
As he pondered the plan's feasibility, Fawkes the phoenix appeared in a burst of flame, letting out two elegant cries and greeting Adam.
"Alright, time to go," Dumbledore said, smiling and beckoning Adam and Shirley closer.
"It's been a while since I've browsed Muggle shops. I hear they've got some new sweets, but first, Gringotts."
Warm flames spread from their feet, engulfing them. McGonagall waved goodbye with a smile.
In the next moment, they stood on Diagon Alley's bustling street, Gringotts' grand entrance just ahead.
Adam trailed behind Dumbledore as they passed through the towering doors into the noisy marble hall.
Hundreds of goblins sat on high stools behind long ebony counters, their slender fingers flying over bronze abacuses. Some wizards had to crane their necks to meet the goblins' narrow, squinting eyes.
Dumbledore's presence drew attention, with many wizards raising their hands in warm greetings.
But not everyone was so friendly. Lucius Malfoy emerged from the vault entrance, his black velvet cloak embroidered with silver threads dragging across the floor. His haughty gaze swept the hall coldly.
A goblin manager shuffled beside him, bowing low and carefully handing over a parchment filled with writing.
"Mr. Malfoy, this is your family's vault inventory, totaling…"
Lucius's ornate cane froze mid-air, the ruby eyes of its snake head glinting as if alive.
"No need to state it, Gregory," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "The Malfoy fortune doesn't need numbers to prove its worth."
When he spotted Adam beside Dumbledore, his expression darkened. He yanked the parchment from the goblin's hands and strode toward the exit, his boots striking the marble floor heavily.
As he passed Adam, a faint sneer flickered in his eyes. "No wonder Hogwarts' ranking in the International Confederation of Wizards keeps slipping," he said, his voice rising. "I told the Board of Governors we shouldn't let Azkaban's filth into the school. Those types belong in dark cells, cowering under Dementors."
Adam blinked, subtly shifting his sleeve. "What was your score on that psychological evaluation back then, Mr. Malfoy? Maybe we can compare notes. Could save you a Galleon or two next time you're locked up."
Lucius whirled around, his cloak whipping through the air, his furious eyes locked on Adam.
Adam added casually, "I also heard there's a Malfoy kid about to start school. They wouldn't be hiding out at Durmstrang learning dark magic, would they?"
Lucius's face twisted, his throat bobbing as he tugged at his collar. Without another word, he stormed out, the door slamming so hard it rattled nearby scales.
Adam turned to Dumbledore, lowering his voice. "What kind of trouble have you been stirring up out there now?"