As October arrived, Hogwarts Castle was battered by strong winds and heavy rain.
The downpour lasted for days, dragging the temperature down sharply. Cold air seeped through the stone walls, silently filling the castle with damp chill.
When Albert realized he had caught a cold, he immediately went to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey gave him a stimulating draught. Its effect was instant, though the unfortunate side effect was smoke pouring from the drinker's ears for several hours.
The Weasley twins found this hilarious and gloated—until smoke began streaming from their own ears a few days later. They treated it as entertainment, even imitating train whistles, which sent the common room into fits of laughter.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
The Gryffindor common room glowed warmly, the fire roaring in the hearth. Albert and his roommates sat by a window, bent over their homework.
"Do you think the garlic sprouts will rot in this rain? It's been pouring for days," George muttered, staring gloomily at the storm.
"If I were you, I'd focus on your essay," Albert advised. "Don't ruin it now."
"Ah!" George cried in dismay as a drop of ink splattered across his parchment. "It's ruined!"
"Stop howling. That's what you get for daydreaming while working," Angelina snapped. Quidditch training had left her with a cold, and even after Madam Pomfrey's draught her head was foggy, making concentration difficult.
"Should we check on the garlic? I'm worried it'll rot," Fred said anxiously.
In such weather, checking was impossible.
Albert shook his head, thinking, This is the difference between planting outside and planting in a flowerpot.
"If you're worried, go yourself. Don't drag me into it," Lee Jordan grumbled. Smoke still curled from his ears—he too had taken the draught.
Nearly all the first-years had been struck down by the flu.
"It's useless to check," George sighed. "There's nothing we can do. We waited so long for the garlic to sprout, and now this rain is drowning it."
Was planting garlic really meant to be this difficult?
Suddenly, the common room grew lively, students buzzing with excitement.
"What's going on?" Angelina asked.
"How should I know?" Albert replied, setting aside the chrysanthemums he had conjured with the Summoning Charm and placed in a vase.
"The Hogsmeade notice," Lee Jordan explained, pointing to the bulletin board. "Late October, before Halloween."
"Yes, but that's only for third-years," Angelina corrected, frowning at the distraction.
"I'm more looking forward to Halloween," Albert said. He had already visited Hogsmeade once and wasn't interested in Britain's only wizarding village. "Older students say Hogwarts' Halloween is spectacular—bats flying through the castle, jack-o'-lanterns, pumpkin dishes, and a feast in the evening."
In the Harry Potter novels, Halloween was always eventful:
First year: a troll broke into the castle.
Second year: Filch's cat was petrified.
Third year: Sirius Black tried to enter the Gryffindor common room.
Fourth year: the Triwizard Tournament began.
Fifth year…
Alicia raised an eyebrow. "I don't think Halloween is that fun."
"Celebrating together makes it fun," Albert explained. "Games are only fun with others, and holidays are lively when shared."
"That makes sense," Lee Jordan agreed.
"Last time I visited Hagrid, his pumpkins were half as tall as a person," Albert added. "They must be for Halloween."
Undoubtedly, Hagrid had used an Engorgement Charm.
Albert thought the twins could use the same charm on their garlic—since they weren't planning to eat it anyway.
Well, if Fred and George knew how to cast an Engorgement Charm.
Still, most students were more excited about Hogsmeade than Halloween. Even second-years grumbled about why only third-years were allowed to go.
Albert and his roommates weren't as enthusiastic. They had already visited Hogsmeade recently, and without money, there was little point.
When the rain finally eased, the twins grabbed umbrellas and dragged Albert—who had been practicing the Summoning Charm—outside to check on the garlic.
The sight was dismal. All the sprouts had rotted, drowned by days of rain.
Their faces were as dark as the storm clouds overhead.
There was nothing to be done. The garlic they had worked so hard to cultivate was gone.
The twins, crushed by the loss, grew despondent.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Hagrid's voice boomed through the rain.
The three turned to see him striding toward them, soaked to the skin, no umbrella in sight. He had thought they were heading into the forest and had rushed to stop them, fuming.
Albert quickly explained, and Hagrid stared in disbelief. "You're planting garlic here?"
When he saw the overturned soil and rotten sprouts, he realized they were telling the truth.
"Ahem… actually, they wanted to make a charm with garlic. It needs a lot of it," Albert added hastily.
"That's the daftest thing I've ever heard," Hagrid said, shaking his head. He clapped Fred and George on the shoulders. "It's just garlic. Don't be so downhearted. I'll give you more—plant them next to my vegetable patch this time."
"No, Hagrid," Albert interrupted. "We're going to transplant the garlic into flowerpots and keep them in the dormitory. That way, the rain won't ruin them. The only trouble is we'll need to move them out for sunlight."