The Great Hall was decorated with enchanted snow falling gently onto the Christmas trees.
Beneath the ceiling dotted with fluffy cotton-like clouds, colorful ribbons hung high above.
Sean passed by the fireplace in the Great Hall, heading toward the eighth floor where the Room of Requirement was located.
At the four house tables, conversations buzzed continuously.
Justin sat quietly reading the American Magical Weekly. Beside him, Harry and Ron were sighing heavily.
They were also holding newspapers, though theirs was the London-based Daily Prophet.
The headline read:
[Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, was fined fifty Galleons today for enchanting a Muggle automobile.
The enchanted car was spotted flying away from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry earlier this year. School board member Lucius Malfoy has recently called for Mr. Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has damaged the Ministry's reputation," Malfoy told our reporters. "He's clearly unfit to make our laws, and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be repealed immediately."
Mr. Weasley declined to comment, but his wife told reporters to leave or she'd set the family ghoul on them.]
"Of course the ghoul would do that," Ron said with a forced laugh.
"I'm so sorry," Harry said hoarsely, his throat tight.
On the side of the Great Hall, in a less crowded area, Sean paused for a few seconds. He noticed Malfoy walking toward Harry and the others.
Their paths would intersect, blocking Sean's route.
"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles way too much. They should snap his wand in half and make him join the non-magical folks," Malfoy said contemptuously to Pansy beside him. "Looking at how the Weasleys act, you'd never know they're purebloods.
Of course, my dad always says having Dumbledore as headmaster was the worst thing that ever happened to this school.
He loves Muggles. A proper headmaster would never let someone like Creevey into the school."
Malfoy pretended to hold a camera and started snapping photos, viciously but convincingly impersonating Colin: "Potter, can I take your picture? Potter, can I get your autograph? Can I lick your shoes? Please, Potter?"
He dropped his hands, feigning surprise as he looked at Harry and Ron.
Harry and Ron immediately stood up.
Justin frowned. He slowly set down the American Magical Weekly and positioned himself between Harry and Ron.
Neville pressed close to him, his wand at the ready.
Add in Hermione trembling with anger, and the young wizards on this side matched Malfoy's group in presence.
"Ha—" Malfoy tried to appear calm. He'd only noticed Harry and hadn't realized they were at full strength. "Saint Potter doesn't understand that some people are simply stupid, while others are born to greatness—destined for it."
With that, he walked away with his group.
"He's like a mosquito! Childish and stupid!" Hermione said angrily.
"If we beat him up, I bet he'd say—'I'm telling my father! He'll definitely get you expelled!'" Ron mimicked mockingly. "But I bet Hogwarts would expel a hundred Malfoys before expelling us—because we have Sean!"
Ron's sudden shout left everyone a bit puzzled.
"Ron, there's no need to yell like that—" Harry said quietly.
But Hermione and Justin had already turned sharply to look behind them.
There seemed to be nothing there.
Ron rubbed his eyes hard, wondering if he was hallucinating.
On the eighth floor, across from the tapestry of the troll clubbing the foolish knight.
Sean's figure gradually appeared at the end of the corridor. With a flick of his wand, what seemed like an invisibility cloak slipped off him.
He looked at the wall where the knight was still trying to teach the troll to dance, while the troll just beat him with its club.
After a while, a moth-eaten troll stopped pummeling the ballet instructor and turned to stare at him.
It grunted something unintelligible.
By now Sean had walked past the wall twice. As he was about to pass a third time, the tapestry of the troll clubbing the knight was suddenly covered, and a painting of an owl appeared in front of it.
"Mr. Owl," Sean said, staring at it.
"Clever young wizard, clever young wizard," the owl clutched parchment in its talons, its wire-rimmed spectacles about to fall off again.
"Why cast a confusion charm?" Sean silently cleared his memory and built sufficiently strong mental defenses.
If the owl painting tried anything else, Sean's transformation spell would be faster than any confusion charm.
But Sean guessed it wouldn't come to that. After all, the owl painting had cast a confusion charm, not used mind-reading. His memories hadn't been invaded—he'd simply forgotten about Ravenclaw's diadem.
That's precisely why Sean hadn't noticed until now.
"Annoying mental shields, annoying! Annoying!" The owl painting repeated the word several times before looking at Sean dejectedly.
"Mr. Owl?" Sean tilted his head slightly.
"A mistaken room, a room with no connection to wisdom, a room filled with clutter—merely a room for house-elves to rest! Why would a wizard go there!"
The owl puffed out its white-feathered chest. "Young wizard, clever young wizard, the one Ravenclaw that the Sorting Hat has chosen in over a dozen centuries—when you discover the secret of the Ravenclaw Chamber, you'll truly witness Ravenclaw wisdom. Eagles soaring in distant skies need not be burdened by trivial matters."
From the owl's words, Sean pieced together all his thoughts.
So the Room of Requirement was just a transitional product of Ravenclaw's creation, and the Chamber of Wishes might be the Room of Requirement's final form.
After all, the Room of Requirement couldn't identify wizards, but the Chamber of Wishes could.
The Room of Requirement couldn't connect to the Floo Network, but the Chamber of Wishes could—
Had they really been sitting on a gold mine all this time without knowing it?
"The Chamber of Wishes—of course, you have naming rights. But only when you truly understand knowledge will wisdom belong to you.
Clever young wizard, clever Ravenclaw—mediocrity is a choice.
Human emotions arising constantly are a choice.
But true wizards—they choose the more difficult path."
The owl ruffled its wings as it spoke.