October—
A strange East Greenland cold current suddenly swept through, enveloping the entire Hogwarts castle.
Because of the sudden cold wave, colds spread rapidly among students and professors, leaving Madam Pomfrey overwhelmed.
Not only was Professor Snape enlisted to help, but even William was pulled in to assist with brewing potions.
They were tasked with brewing a type of Invigoration Draught, a potion with an immediate effect, though anyone who drank it would have smoke coming out of their ears for hours.
William's warming badges suddenly became a hot commodity.
He sold out last year's leftover inventory and made a tidy profit.
Lockhart flitted around the hospital wing, loudly offering "home remedies" for colds and assuring everyone that there was nothing to worry about.
He proclaimed, "No one knows more about this kind of cold than I do!"
However, due to constant exposure to the patients, he ended up catching a cold himself, and a rather severe one.
This delighted Madam Pomfrey, who personally delivered a "special blend" of Invigoration Draught, courtesy of Professor Snape.
In Snape's words, "I've added a special essence of mine, it'll be sure to rejuvenate Lockhart and restore his vigor."
Unfortunately… after drinking the potion, while Lockhart's cold was cured, he began experiencing severe stomach pain, so intense that he couldn't bear to open his mouth to speak.
He was also plagued by other unpleasant symptoms such as nausea, dry heaving, and cravings for sour foods.
Professor Snape brewed another milky-white potion for him, but Lockhart absolutely refused to drink it.
For third-year students, Professor Trelawney's Divination class suddenly became wildly popular.
Everyone loved Divination now.
Why? Because during the first class, she had accurately predicted a large-scale outbreak of colds in October.
Now that's what you call a true Seer, a master of Divination! (Cue dramatic pose.)
A quick word with the twins revealed to William that Trelawney had also predicted a wave of colds in November, for the fourth years.
She had likewise predicted colds for January, March, and May for various other year groups.
Based on historical records, those months were all peak flu seasons.
With predictions that frequent, she was bound to get at least one right by sheer chance, fooling at least one year group into believing her.
No wonder people called her a fraud.
Trelawney was practically born for this role!
Of course, in line with Trelawney's prediction for the third-years, her voice had gone hoarse by the end of her first lesson.
But that didn't diminish her status in the eyes of her students—if anything, it elevated her to a near-mythical level.
As for whether the hoarseness was real or feigned, William dared not speculate, much less ask.
Still, even while bedridden, Trelawney managed to croak out a demand for "paid leave!"
Professor McGonagall responded by gifting her a bottle of potion.
The same kind infused with Snape's "special essence."
With Lockhart as a cautionary example, Trelawney didn't even taste it, and yet, the next day, her voice miraculously returned to normal.
A medical marvel, truly!
Which goes to show: Professor Snape is the undisputed king of remedies at Hogwarts!
The cold wave brought terrible weather with it.
Hogwarts seemed to plunge into an extended rainy season.
Raindrops the size of bullets pounded relentlessly against the castle windows for days on end.
The water level of the Black Lake rose, flowerbeds turned to mudflows, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of small sheds.
He plAnnied to hang them in the Great Hall for Halloween.
Soon, Halloween Eve arrived.
The castle was lavishly decorated, bats fluttered about the Great Hall like living ornaments, adding to the festive atmosphere.
Hagrid's gigantic pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough to fit three people inside.
The glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the ceiling like private booths, creating a rich, festive vibe!
Annie informed William that Dumbledore had hired a troupe of "Red Skull Dancers" to perform that evening, an undead dance troupe known for their "exotic routines."
A troupe of skeletons… nothing but bones, what's there to see? Even if they did pole dancing, how could they possibly make it interesting?
William was speechless. Dumbledore had a penchant for over-the-top theatrics that didn't really align with the student body's sentiments.
That afternoon, William skipped Trelawney's Divination class and attended Professor Septima Vector's Arithmancy lesson instead.
Arithmancy involved using numbers to interpret personality traits, fate, or to predict the future.
It was also known as "Numerology."
Unlike Trelawney's Divination, which relied on interpreting ambiguous images in crystal balls, tea leaves, or palm lines, Arithmancy was built on a framework of rules and precise mathematical calculations.
The fundamental principle of Arithmancy was that the universe was built upon the power of numbers.
After covering some introductory material, Professor Vector noticed her students' waning interest and put away her Numerology and Grammatica textbook.
She began teaching them how to calculate their luck instead.
Professor Vector could easily be called "the flower of Hogwarts." She wore a knee-length cream-colored Irish sweater that ended just above her dark leather boots.
Her rich, wine-colored hair flowed naturally over her shoulders, and she had a face like that of Lily Collins.
William understood why everyone loved Arithmancy when she was teaching it.
With such a stunning professor, how could anyone do poorly in her class?
Professor Vector tapped her wand against the wall, conjuring a large blackboard with a number conversion table.
"Don't forget the three N's I taught you—'Event Number,' 'Quantitative Number,' and 'Result Number.'"
Her crisp voice only heightened her charm. Many students likened her voice to chocolate for the ears.
Following the rules, William picked three things he liked and disliked and converted them into numbers.
The Arithmancy system involved converting letters from the alphabet into corresponding ancient Latin letters, which were then assigned numbers from 1 to 9.
William quickly calculated his number: 777.
"Uh-oh, that's not a good result, Mr. Stark," Professor Vector said with a frown as she took William's paper.
Everyone stared at William as if he were about to drop dead at any moment.
"As you all know, 7 is a magical number," Professor Vector explained.
She wasn't wrong, in William's previous life, 7 was considered a magical number, and in Arithmancy, it carried special properties.
Bridget Wenlock, a 13th-century Arithmancer, was the first to identify the magical significance of the number 7 and wrote extensively about it.
Professor Vector broke down William's result:
"The first 7 indicates that danger is approaching; the second 7, as a quantitative number, could mean seven occurrences or seven individuals; the final 7 represents failure."
William furrowed his brows.
Trelawney had told him during the first Divination class that the thing he feared would happen before Christmas.
Now Professor Vector was warning him that danger was drawing closer.
The second 7, was it referring to seven dangerous incidents or seven enemies?
And the final failure—did it mean William's failure, or the failure of the danger itself?
As expected… Divination was always full of ambiguity!
William figured it was probably safest to brew some Felix Felicis.
After all, the "Halloween Incident Rule" and the "Defense Against the Dark Arts Curse" were practically causality weapons, utterly unavoidable.
William… was starting to feel nervous.