"The school rules say we have to wear school uniforms and keep them neat," another student pointed out.
"Well, we can always get creative in other areas," Roger replied with a grin, pulling a loose-leaf notebook from the lining of his robes.
Opening the notebook, he tore off a sheet of paper, tapped his finger lightly on it, and watched as the white paper morphed into a pair of fluorescent vampire fangs. He handed them to the student next to him, then tore off another piece and conjured a Jason Voorhees hockey mask from the classic 1980 horror movie Friday the 13th.
Finally, with a flick of his wrist, he shook the notebook and transformed it into a pumpkin head mask.
While some of the younger wizards weren't particularly interested, the Muggle-born students found these little creations incredibly fascinating. Many had grown up celebrating Halloween in the Muggle world, dressing up for the occasion. But now, at Hogwarts, it felt like something was missing. For them, it was a little strange not to celebrate the way they had before.
Of course, peer pressure played a role. Since no one else seemed to be dressing up, they hesitated to stand out. But with Roger leading the way...
In an instant, the students who had previously celebrated Halloween in Muggle society gathered around him, eager to join in.
Later, in the Hogwarts Great Hall...
The feast had begun, and the golden plates were laden with a sumptuous array of delicacies. The atmosphere was festive, but Harry was too busy scanning the room to notice the food.
Many of the students were wearing small trinkets, masks, and headgear, adding a touch of Halloween spirit to their school robes. Though everyone still wore their wizarding uniforms, there was definitely more of a Halloween vibe in the air than usual.
"So, what character are you supposed to be?" Harry asked, turning to Roger. "Some kind of special vampire?"
Roger casually picked up a fried chicken leg and shrugged. "I'm an Egyptian Pharaoh who plays cards."
"...Huh?" Harry blinked in confusion, scanning Roger from head to toe. He couldn't spot anything that resembled an Egyptian Pharaoh, except for a pyramid-shaped pendant hanging around Roger's neck.
Before Roger could launch into an impromptu fashion lesson about the future potential of Tearlaments...
Bang!
The doors of the Great Hall burst open.
"Troll! There's a troll in the dungeon!"
Professor Quirrell's voice echoed across the hall. He'd clearly prepared his line, but froze mid-sentence upon seeing something that completely threw him off.
He caught sight of Roger, sitting casually at the table, the pyramid pendant hanging around his neck. A dark red crystal gleamed in the center of the pendant.
...The Philosopher's Stone.
How could it be here?!
Earlier, after acquiring the Philosopher's Stone, Roger had been contemplating how to keep it safe.
In Voldemort's memory, the Stone was supposed to be hidden on the third floor by Dumbledore, so Roger was fully aware of the original timeline. Under normal circumstances, Roger could have followed the established path of fate: let Harry misunderstand Snape, allow Snape and Voldemort to pull at each other, and allow the professors to set up the various challenges. Harry could then solve them, with his mother's magic protecting him from harm.
Once Harry touched the Stone, Quirrell would be killed instantly, and Voldemort would be forced to flee. This would allow Harry to grow and be tempered by the experience.
But Roger didn't want that.
As someone who had been in the thick of battle, he knew that depriving someone of their life wasn't an easy thing to do, especially in close combat. Unless you no longer saw the person as human. He didn't want Harry to be the one to kill Quirrell, especially not when he was only 11 years old.
Just because Roger had endured hardship didn't mean he wanted to make others suffer.
So, Roger came up with a different plan.
On Halloween, Quirrell would release the troll. In the original timeline, Hermione would be hurt by Ron's words and retreat to the girls' bathroom, where Harry and Ron would later find her, battling the troll together. That encounter marked the start of their friendship, born from life-or-death circumstances.
But under Roger's influence, things had already changed. Hermione's life experiences had shifted slightly, and Harry and Ron's paths were no longer following the exact script. The battle with the troll in the girls' bathroom would not happen.
However, Voldemort, as always, was set on his path. He had not been affected by Roger's interference.
So Roger prepared an ambush.
And just as he had anticipated, when Quirrell stormed into the hall, he froze for a moment upon spotting the Philosopher's Stone hanging from Roger's neck.
But Roger quickly recovered his composure.
When faced with an unclear situation, the best course of action is to respond to all changes with consistency. So, he immediately rolled his eyes and pretended to faint.
Given his somewhat erratic behavior this semester, everyone was already accustomed to his oddities, making this reaction seem less out of place.
By this time, Dumbledore had already left England, leaving Deputy Headmistress McGonagall in full charge of school affairs. Professor McGonagall, ever composed, swiftly took control of the situation.
First, she used a charm to create a small commotion, drawing the attention of the students below, and ordered them to quiet down. Then, she directed the prefects of each house to escort the students back to their dormitories, effectively ending the banquet.
The danger posed by a troll wasn't high for a skilled wizard—any prefect or even most of the senior students could easily handle it. However, it was a considerable threat to young witches and wizards who had no battle experience.
For those who had never fought before, casting a spell under pressure was daunting. It would be a miracle if they didn't miscast and accidentally injure themselves. The wands in their hands were likely more dangerous to them than the troll itself.
To prevent any accidents, McGonagall decided that evacuating the students safely was the wisest course of action.
With the order in place, the students began looking for their prefects, creating a bit of confusion. Roger saw this as the perfect opportunity to slip to Professor Quirrell's side.
Seemingly by chance, he levitated Quirrell and began guiding him toward the teachers' table, pretending to assist him so the professors could tend to the "fainting" professor. Quirrell, however, didn't react at all.
But Roger, deeply attuned to his crisis prediction abilities, sensed something subtle—a faint warning.
Roger, who was already extremely familiar with his abilities, knew this sensation well: it was the response of someone who might pose a danger if they were too cautious of him.
Ignoring the feeling, Roger subtly adjusted his position to block any view of his face and leaned in close to Quirrell, speaking in a low, deliberate tone amidst the surrounding chaos.
"Can we consider the matter of the Philosopher's Stone settled?"
Quirrell's little finger twitched ever so slightly.
"Just give me some face... Voldemort."
Quirrell: !
Voldemort: ?
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