After the fog churned and rolled away, all that was left in Ravenclaw Tower was the pale blue before dawn.
Threads of morning light slipped into the common room. A wizard with slightly messy hair bolted upright. He habitually scanned his surroundings, then lowered his eyes, disappointed and lost.
Ms. Isobel, who'd dreamed of getting into Ravenclaw House, had actually met Ravenclaw herself. When Sean heard the excitement in her voice, he naturally felt some shared joy.
But when he thought about how he'd been just a few seconds away from meeting one of the four greatest wizards from thirteen centuries ago—and possibly the most learned wizard of all—Sean couldn't help but feel seriously annoyed.[1]
He instinctively picked up Hogwarts: A History from his bedside table. In the predawn light, the words glowed faintly:
[The founders of Hogwarts were the four greatest wizards of their time:
Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff.
The four houses of the school are named after them. They built the school far from the prying eyes of non-magical folk…]
"Rowena Ravenclaw..." he murmured.
It was easy to connect the dots—Rowena Ravenclaw was still wandering in the in-between place.
And who she was waiting for? That was pretty obvious.
So if he could meet her, maybe he could do something to help.
Either way, he felt a lot of gratitude toward the woman who founded Hogwarts.
"Hogwarts..." Sean said under his breath.
He looked at the walls hung with blue and silver decorations, and at the bookshelves by his bed that had slowly filled over time.
He lifted his head slightly. Blue silk curtains hung from the arched windows. Outside, the Quidditch pitch was beautiful, and the Forbidden Forest stretched out, vast and lively.
Through the walls, he could almost see the Transfiguration office with its roaring fireplace, and the cauldron-filled dungeon shrouded in steam.
Was Professor Binns still napping in the staff lounge?
Were the Mandrakes throwing another party in the greenhouse?
Sean suddenly realized, clearly and completely, that Hogwarts Castle was becoming more familiar day by day—more and more like... home.
Morning.
After a night of rain and snow, the castle was covered in a thin layer of white frost.
The corridors gradually came to life with people—and wandering ghosts.
Sean passed the gloomy Bloody Baron, passed the kindly Fat Friar chatting amiably with some Gryffindors. After thinking for a moment, he slowly walked up to the Grey Lady.
She was gazing out at the distant mountain ridges, radiating a "stay away" aura.
"Green," she said.
"Good morning, Lady Helena," Sean said.
"You don't need to deliberately avoid that title," the Grey Lady said, her face neither sad nor happy.
The normal title would, of course, be "Lady Ravenclaw." But the young wizard in front of her always thought a little more carefully.
Just like when he destroyed the diadem last time.
But for the Grey Lady, she hadn't heard that title in a long time.
It made her feel both fearful and ashamed, but also filled with a strange kind of hope.
"Lady Ravenclaw," Sean said, going with the flow.
"Lady Ravenclaw—ha..." the Grey Lady said with a self-mocking laugh.
"Have you ever thought about death?" Sean asked.
"The unpredictable holiday for ghosts? Sorry, that's my greatest fear," the Grey Lady said.[2]
"Lady Ravenclaw, what if I told you someone still cares about you? Would you be willing to celebrate that holiday then?" Sean asked carefully.
"Green... foolish yet sincere," the Grey Lady said, her mood seeming to lighten a little, even becoming a bit teasing.
"These are my days of shame, and my deserved punishment. For countless centuries, ghosts have existed, and there's no way for a ghost to escape despair.
Even you, Green—even you, the one she chose.
As for waiting—would anyone still wait for me? In this world, not another tear will ever be shed for me. I brought this on myself."
Her voice drifted, self-mocking.
"Would you celebrate it?" Sean asked, staring into her eyes.
For the first time, the Grey Lady showed a hint of panic. Touching on a ghost's obsession always made them uneasy.
Even though what the young wizard was saying was absolutely impossible, Helena Ravenclaw still instinctively thought about it.[2]
"Of course. But she would never forgive me," Helena Ravenclaw said with a bitter smile, then drifted away.
Sean stood there, his gaze deep but shimmering with a faint light.
After several seconds, he headed toward the Chamber of Wishes—he'd already gotten his answer.
The Chamber of Wishes
The place changed every single day.
Justin and Hermione had never stopped upgrading the chamber. Now it had a place to practice spells, a kitchen, a garden, and even a round table with intricate patterns etched into it.
Around the table sat translucent grey-white chairs.
Compared to the old round table, this one had a more solemn air.
Sean glanced around, then returned to his seat and began his daily studies.
The top priority was still the panther cookies—after all, they'd let him use unique forms of mind-reading, confusion charms, and memory charms.[3]
Second, he needed to keep improving his combat ability, including his nonstop practice of Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and spell work.
Now he had an additional task: testing his own strength.
Sean naturally thought back to last Christmas, when retired Marcus had helped him learn a lot of real combat techniques.
As Christmas break was ending, young wizards stopped going out as much.
They spent entire days studying their coursework and finishing assignments.
Sales at Green's Bookshop shot through the roof.
In the Great Hall, the atmosphere grew tense.
Hogwarts coursework didn't lighten up just because of the holidays—in fact, it got terrifyingly heavy.
Before joining the Chamber of Wishes, Harry and Ron had suffered plenty.
And now, with only three days left, it definitely wasn't the time to be messing around.
Ron had recently taken to wandering over to other people's desks, asking how their Gryffindor classmates were doing with their work.
Their progress was obvious without even asking—you just had to look at the frantic quills flying across parchment.
But Ron acted like he didn't see it and would casually mention:
"Oh, Dean, you must be almost done, right?"
"Quite the opposite. Just getting started," Dean snapped back, looking confused.
"You finished?"
That was exactly what Ron had been waiting for. He immediately started bragging about himself, leaving Dean stunned.
"If Voldemort comes back, Ron will be the first to go," Hermione said flatly. "He doesn't know how to protect himself, he wastes time on pointless things, and he can't fight Voldemort."[2]