Chapter 92

As October unfurled its wings, Hogwarts Castle found itself enshrouded in the relentless dance of wind and cascading rain. The downpour, persistent and unwavering, lingered for days, casting a chilling spell upon the castle's surroundings. The rain curtain, a shade of silver, draped itself over the ancient stone walls, allowing the frigid air to slip through the cracks and weave its way into the heart of the castle, enveloping it in a silent, wintry embrace. 

When Albert noticed that he had the cold, he immediately went to the school infirmary and got a 'pepper up' potion from Madam Pomfrey. The effect was immediate after drinking the medicine. However, the downside is that, while the 'pepper-up' potion swiftly banished the illness, it brought an unexpected quirk in its wake. Those who drank the potion found wisps of fragrant steam swirling from their ears, an amusing and peculiar aftermath that lingered for several hours, much to the bemusement of Albert and the amusement of mischievous onlookers, particularly the mischievous Weasley twins.

In the warmly illuminated Gryffindor common room, a roaring flame danced in the fireplace, casting a cosy glow that permeated the surroundings. Nestled near the flickering hearth, Albert and his friends sprawled comfortably on the floor, diligently engaged in their homework. The radiant heat from the blazing fire created an inviting atmosphere. 

"Hey, do you think the garlic will survive this constant rain? It's been pouring for days," George mused, gazing at the dreary rain outside.

"Focus on your homework, George," Albert interjected, urging them to shift their attention. "Worrying about garlic won't make it grow any faster."

"But what if the rain ruins everything we've done?" Fred questioned, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Enough about the garlic, seriously. Your homework needs more attention right now," Albert insisted, gesturing towards the scattered parchment and textbooks. "You should do it while we're all here and not beg us later for help."

"Ugh! Merlin's beard! Why did it have to happen to me?" George said as he picked up the ink bottle that fell on his parchment. "Thank Merlin! It didn't get on anything important."

"Can you shut your mouth, please?" Angelina said while gritting her teeth. She has had a rather unpleasant last few days. He also caught a cold, but instead of going straight to Madam Pomfrey, she went to Quidditch practice. As a result, her cold got worse. She had a 'Pepper Up' potion but still had a headache that just wouldn't go away.

"Should we go check on it? I'm a bit worried that something bad will happen to the garlic," Fred said anxiously.

"Hagrid was right. We should have grown it in a flower pot instead," George said.

"We can't go to him for help; otherwise, he'll go on forever," Fred said.

George sat up and imitated Hagrid, "It is not the season to grow garlic. The weather is unpredictable, and the chances of success are very low. You should..."

Angelina slammed her book onto the floor, startling the others. "If you're that bothered, go check on it; otherwise, SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

"It's useless to go check on it. We don't know what we're doing," Fred said.

"Brother, I think you should shut your mouth," George said as he motioned towards Angelina. "I think she's going to stab you through the heart with the quill."

"You know, I reckon she's the type to kill her lover while they sleep," Fred said as she looked at Angelina and her trembling, clenched fist. "Fine, I'll be quiet."

Shannon leaned closer to Albert and whispered, "What's happening there?"

"Genuinely, I have no clue. They've kept a tight lip about it and haven't told me anything yet," Albert whispered back as he put a transfigured flower vase down.

"Have you guys heard that the Hogsmeade trip is at the end of October, before Samhain and the festival?" Lee said before he received a death glare from Angelina.

"What's Samhain and what festival?" Shannon asked.

"Samhain is the wizard version of Halloween. And the festival, I don't know." Albert whispered. "Lee? Lee. Keep your voice down. What's the festival about?"

"It's to celebrate the fall of He-who-shall-not-be-named," Lee whispered. "I can't wait to help decorate the castle. We can help decorate the castle with enchanted pumpkins, candles, and other magical adornments, and if we're lucky, we could be invited to the feast hosted by the ghosts of Hogwarts."

Alicia raised her eyebrows and whispered, "I heard the feast isn't that good. It's boring compared to what we used to do."

"What did you used to do?" Shannon asked.

"The pureblood would gather at the top of the astronomy tower and take part in the Samhain Ritual. We would communicate with the dead before heading off to the Samhain Ball. There would be a massive feast and we would even invite muggle orchestras to play alongside the 'Three Wicked Sisters'. Obviously, they won't remember what happens," Alicia whispered.

"You guys have a lot of formal balls," Albert said.

"You don't know the half of it. Shame, most of them were stopped during the rise of He-who-shall-not-be-named, and we never restarted. You would have liked them," Alicia whispered.

"From the sounds of it, I probably would," Albert whispered as he focused his attention back onto the textbook.

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When the rain finally halted the next day, the Weasley twins wasted no time, unfurling their umbrellas like eager explorers embarking on a quest. With a determined air, they beckoned Albert and Lee to join them.

The scene that unfolded was far from optimistic; the garlic sprouts, nurtured with hope and patience, had succumbed to the deluge. The expressions etched on their faces mirrored the overcast sky, gloom settling in like persistent raindrops.

In a cruel twist, the garlic seedlings, which had triumphantly broken through the soil after a patient wait, lay defeated by the unrelenting downpour. The twins, who had invested tireless effort into their cultivation, found their spirits dampened by the cruel hand of the weather.

"What on in the name of Merlin are you all doing out here?" Hagrid's voice boomed through the rain curtain, his massive frame approaching without any regard for the umbrella-clad quartet. "I heard four students running towards the forbidden forest and came running after you. Are you boys okay?"

As they turned to face him, Hagrid, drenched but undeterred, demanded an explanation. Albert quickly recounted the tragic fate of the garlic, and Hagrid's incredulous gaze fell upon the twins. "I told you to grow it in a pot, didn't I? Do you two have any clue about gardening?"

The twins exchanged sheepish glances, realising the gravity of their horticultural misadventure, as Hagrid shook his head in exasperation.