By dawn, the Great Hall looked like Cupid had suffered a magical explosion. Pink and gold banners drooped from the rafters; confetti rained continuously from the enchanted ceiling; and clusters of dwarves in mismatched heart costumes waited by the doors holding lutes and scrolls.
Shya took one look at the spectacle and muttered, "I take back every complaint about curfews. We should've stayed locked down."
Talora groaned. "It's worse than I imagined. He's weaponized glitter."
Lockhart himself stood at the head table, dazzling in robes of iridescent lilac that shimmered between pink and gold. "Happy Valentine's Day, dear students!" he cried. "Let love be your light! Your laughter the ward against darkness!"
Snape looked moments away from committing homicide with a salad fork.
McGonagall's expression could have frozen magma.
As students trickled in, the dwarves began their rounds. One lumbered to the Ravenclaw table, glaring at a crumpled pink parchment. "Delivery for… Miss Shya Gill," he grunted.
Shya blinked. "You're joking."
The dwarf cleared his throat and bellowed, to the horror of everyone nearby:
"Your eyes outshine the morning dew,
Your wit could hex a heart in two,
From admirer unnamed, sincere and true—
(Please don't set me on fire too.)"
The last line was sung with feeling. Half the table choked on pumpkin juice. Shya buried her face in her hands as Talora nearly fell off the bench laughing.
"Brilliant," Shya muttered through her fingers. "Utterly brilliant. I hope whoever wrote that trips over a rooster."
She didn't have long to recover before another dwarf waddled up and pointed at Talora. "And you're Miss Livanthos, right? Got one for you too."
Talora's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no."
"Your smile's a spell, your gaze divine,
I'd face a dragon to make you mine—"
"Please stop," Talora said, crimson. The dwarf continued with gusto.
"From a bold young Ravenclaw, year three,
Who dreams you'll sit and study with me!"
Padma clapped delightedly. "Oh, Talora, a poet!"
Roman wheezed. "Better than the one about the fire-hazard goddess over here."
Even Luna giggled, soft and silvery. "They're quite brave, really," she mused. "Most people don't serenade witches who can duel."
"Or punch," Shya added darkly, though her lips twitched.
Throughout the hall, other dwarves delivered similar humiliations — one to Mandy from a blushing Hufflepuff, another to Lisa from a Gryffindor who fled before the verse was finished. Even Cassian received one (anonymous, to his horror) that ended with a rhyme about "eyes like storms and mystery untold." Roman, naturally, wouldn't stop quoting it for the rest of the day.
By mid-morning, the hall was chaos — laughter, groans, scattered applause. For the first time in months, the tension loosened a fraction.
And yet, under the noise, something faint still pulsed through the stones — the old wards, restless, watching.
When breakfast ended, Dumbledore rose from his seat. The glittering room quieted immediately.
"My dear students," he began, smiling mildly, "I must once again commend your cooperation and courage these past weeks. The protections around Hogwarts remain active, and thanks to your vigilance — and our feathered friends — we are safe."
At his side, Hagrid beamed proudly over a basket of crowing roosters.
Dumbledore continued, his tone light but deliberate. "Some of you will have heard rumors concerning the event that prompted our lockdown. Let me reassure you: no harm came to any student. An artifact of unknown origin was recovered and is being examined with care."
He flicked his wand, and a copy of the dark, water-stained book appeared in his hand — identical to the one now locked in his office.
"In recognition of the young man who brought it to our attention," he said, his eyes twinkling just enough to seem harmless, "I return it here, cleansed and harmless."
He placed the duplicate in front of a startled Harry Potter.
Around the hall, the whispers started immediately.
Snape's gaze was ice; McGonagall's lips thinned; Dumbledore's expression gave away nothing.
At the Ravenclaw table, the group watched the exchange in heavy silence.
"Calculated," Padma murmured.
"Controlled," Shya agreed.
"Convincing," Talora finished softly.
Luna stirred her tea, thoughtful. "And deceptive," she said. "But the castle likes when people pretend everything's fine."
For a moment, they all watched the pink confetti drift lazily through the air, hearts and ribbons glinting under candlelight — a sugar-sweet veil over something vast and ancient beneath their feet.
And for that one glitter-stained day, Hogwarts pretended to be ordinary again.