Chapter 33: Halloween Is Meant for Cosplay

Dumbledore’s life was riddled with regrets. Once a person has been burned, they naturally seek ways to avoid stepping into the same trap twice. It is often said that one may know a person’s face but not their heart; having been burned once by Voldemort, Dumbledore felt the need to take out an insurance policy, even though he had watched Harry Potter grow up.

This was the Mirror of Erised incident as Roger remembered it. By reflecting Harry Potter's deepest desires, Dumbledore could verify that his judgment had not faltered.

"Back so soon?"

Harry stood before the mirror, once again lost in its depths, while Roger turned to look at Dumbledore, who had appeared behind them as if from thin air. Dumbledore understood the meaning behind Roger’s gaze, but rather than answering directly, he countered with a question: "Roger, what do you see?"

"Many things," Roger replied indifferently.

In the Mirror of Erised, he saw countless wonders of the world. The only issue was that the images in the mirror flickered constantly; before one scene could be fully grasped, the next would take its place. The Sorting Hat had been right—the house best suited for Roger was Slytherin. His heart was filled with an insatiable greed for everything, forever yearning, forever craving. For the things he desired, a hundred years was far too short, and so...

"Headmaster," Harry said, jolted back to reality by the sound of the two talking behind him.

Following this came Dumbledore’s explanation of the mirror’s purpose, his announcement that he would be moving it, and his warning to Harry not to go looking for it again.

In truth, Dumbledore’s goal had been achieved the moment Harry looked into the mirror for the first time. However, Harry, who had never experienced the warmth of family, had stood before the mirror, unable to tear himself away, sometimes weeping at the sight of his parents. Dumbledore had been moved by the scene, which was why he hadn't intervened sooner. Now, however, seeing that Harry had chosen to reject the illusions of the mirror to embrace reality for the sake of his Quidditch teammates, Dumbledore felt it was time for the illusion to return to nothingness—regardless of whether Roger was there or not.

Harry took one last look at the mirror, gritted his teeth, and walked firmly out of the old classroom.

When only the two of them remained, Dumbledore looked at Roger and said, "I didn't just return; I was actually just preparing to leave." He was answering Roger’s earlier unspoken question.

The matter was somewhat complex. Initially, the internal disputes within the Middle Eastern wizarding community regarding Roger’s case had been so persistent that by the time Roger returned to Britain, no one had come to arrest him, leaving the matter to be dumped on the British Ministry of Magic to pass judgment. Yet, even after the verdict, certain factions in the Middle East continued to make trouble, showing no signs of stopping even after Roger had enrolled at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore had decided to make the trip himself. As a figure of his stature—Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards and one of the world's preeminent sorcerers—he couldn't simply vanish and reappear via Apparition without prior notice. With the Gulf War having ended only at the start of the year, nerves were frayed; some would inevitably fear that Dumbledore intended to wage a "wizard’s version" of the Gulf War, and a misunderstanding would be disastrous. Thus, Dumbledore had opted for the slow, formal approval process to demonstrate his goodwill.

Upon hearing rumors of Dumbledore’s impending arrival, the group that held a grudge against Roger due to his status as a "religious prophet" had lost their nerve and quieted down. Dumbledore, believing them cowed, had canceled his trip. If he could help it, Dumbledore was not a man who enjoyed conflict.

As it turned out, those people took the cancellation as a sign that Dumbledore was merely posturing and applying extreme pressure, and that he wouldn't actually come for Roger’s sake. Consequently, they began their antics again. Now, about a month after entrusting the Sorcerer’s Stone to Roger, Dumbledore was once again filing an entry notice with the Middle Eastern magical authorities. He would be departing in two days to show those who didn't know how to take a hint—those who lacked the sense to recognize their betters—exactly what it meant to be the greatest wizard of the century in Britain.

"...That sounds exhausting," Roger said, not knowing how else to respond. At the same time, he made a mental note: in a few years, when he had the capability, he would take a trip to the Middle East himself. Roger believed in repaying kindness, and as for enemies, they naturally had to be dealt with.

"It is nothing. It is just a pity that I won't be able to spend Halloween with the children," Dumbledore replied, unconcerned.

"When will you be back?"

"It depends. I shall see how they react once I arrive."

...

"Pfft, Roger, what is that look?"

Time always passes particularly quickly when one is focused, whether on entertainment or study. In the blink of an eye, it was Halloween.

The scent of roasted pumpkin filled Hogwarts Castle from early morning, and eccentric Halloween decorations hung everywhere. It was a holiday, so the class schedule was lighter than usual, and the children rushed toward the Great Hall as soon as their lessons ended. It was said that the professors had prepared a grand display for the evening feast: a thousand bats fluttering against the walls and ceilings, and another thousand like low-hanging storm clouds, as spectacular as the thundering, starry sky on the first day of school.

However, on the way there, something else caught their attention.

Roger’s blonde hair at his forehead had been styled into several distinct strands and held firmly in place, while the hair at the back had turned a strange, dark red. Facing the strange looks from his classmates as he walked, Roger remained indifferent until an acquaintance asked the question above.

At the start of the term, everyone had been in awe of Roger due to the legends surrounding him, but after spending so much time together, they realized those were likely just rumors. How could a classmate be a murderous dark lord? Roger was clearly a good person! With this shift in perception, some of the more extroverted students had grown closer to him.

"This?" Roger pointed to his strange hairstyle. "Shouldn't one dress up a bit for Halloween?"

Normally, when Halloween arrived, children would dress as skeletons, murderers, zombies, mummies, and other "cute" figures, going door-to-door to demand candy with the phrase "trick or treat." It was a holiday tradition; without a costume, there was no festive atmosphere.

"Uh, but we’re wizards," the student who had asked the question paused. Dressing as a wizard was also a Halloween costume, but had there ever been a precedent for cosplay at Hogwarts? Didn't everyone just return to their dorms to sleep after the feast? After all, Hogwarts wasn't the place for "trick or treat." If you actually tried to pull a trick, you’d likely end up scrubbing toilets as punishment.

Roger understood his meaning. "It’s too boring if everyone just wears their robes. Besides, I don't recall any school rule forbidding costumes."