"If you could call him something else, maybe I'd be able to remember it," Ron muttered.
Just hearing the three syllables of "Voldemort" made his legs shake; how could he possibly remember what Harry said after that.
"You can't do that, Ron, be a bit braver, it's only a name," Harry said seriously. "You need to learn to get used to it."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll try," Ron said, but his tone sounded distinctly perfunctory.
Get used to saying Voldemort's name? Easy for him to say; Ron was sure eighty percent of the people in the Magic Realm couldn't do that.
"Almost succeeded?" Hermione, sitting in an armchair, looked at Harry in puzzlement. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know, Professor Dumbledore didn't say," Harry shook his head. "After that he just sent me away, and told me to wait for him in the Auditorium at seven tomorrow morning. He said he'd take me to see something different… as a reward for getting the memory."
"Hermione." Harry suddenly turned his head. "Why don't you go tomorrow morning instead? If it weren't for your Felix Felici, I wouldn't have got the memory. The reward should be yours."
"No, Harry." Hermione shook her head. "Like I said just now, the main reason we could persuade Professor Slughorn was you. The Felix Felici only played a small supporting role, so the reward should be yours too."
The two of them kept pushing it back and forth?
"But…"
Harry wanted to say more, but Hermione cut him off.
"It's decided," she said, standing up. "And every time you go to the Headmaster's Office it takes you an hour or two; who knows if it'll be the same tomorrow. We've got Transfiguration Class first thing in the morning, and I don't want to be late."
"All right then." Seeing Hermione so insistent, Harry could only agree.
"If you change your mind, remember to tell me anytime."
"I won't," Hermione waved her hand, saying firmly.
Then the three of them went back to their respective dormitories.
The next day.
Early in the morning, Harry forced himself out of bed and, yawning, made his way to the Auditorium. Ever since second year he had rarely gotten up this early; it felt a bit strange all of a sudden.
From a distance, he saw Dumbledore standing there, and next to him was… Kael?
Apparently, after missing him many times, Dumbledore had finally managed, on the first morning after the holidays, to waylay Kael.
The timing was perfect; when he arrived, Kael had just finished breakfast and was about to head up to the eighth floor.
"Professor Dumbledore." Harry trotted over. "Kael, you're here too."
"Hello, Harry," Kael said, looking at Dumbledore. "So Harry is the one we're waiting for, is that right?"
"That's right." Dumbledore nodded. "I hope you can forgive me for acting on my own."
"It's fine," Kael said. "But… forget it. Do you want to have breakfast first?"
He had been about to say that Harry hadn't taken Ancient Runes, so even if he went along he wouldn't understand much, but since Harry was already here, saying that now would be pointless, so he changed the subject.
"Breakfast?" Harry rubbed his stomach.
He was indeed a bit hungry, but he didn't want Kael and Dumbledore to have to wait around for him. After thinking for a moment, he simply grabbed two sandwiches, planning to eat as they walked so at least they wouldn't waste time.
The three of them went together to the eighth floor, with Kael leading the way, turning a few corners and stopping in a certain corridor.
Harry knew exactly where this was; he was just about to remind Kael that the Room of Requirement was broken and no one could get in, when he saw Kael take out a strangely shaped door ring and press it against the wall.
The next second, a door suddenly appeared in the wall.
The Room of Requirement?
Harry was stunned speechless, staring blankly at the scene before him.
What was going on—did the Room of Requirement need a key to open now?
He'd never heard that.
And where would you even get that key made; he wanted one too.
It wasn't until the others had gone through the door that Harry came back to his senses and hurried in after them.
And then Harry was shocked all over again.
He felt as though he had entered another Hogwarts; everything was so familiar.
"So this is Rowena Ravenclaw's memory?" Dumbledore looked at several students passing by, genuinely a little surprised. "Remarkable."
From his words, Harry caught on to a few key pieces of information.
Whose memory?
Rowena Ravenclaw?!
Could it be that this place was like the Pensieve in the Headmaster's Office?
Harry couldn't resist reaching out to touch the wall beside him; it felt cold to the touch—solid and real.
He then tentatively walked up to someone who looked like a student, only for the person to pass straight through his body like a Ghost.
But the person didn't look like a Ghost at all; no Ghost ever walked on legs—they all floated—and their bodies never had any color except pearly white.
"Watch where you're going, newbie," the person turned his head and said irritably.
"Sorry," Harry apologized instinctively.
So this really was a memory?
He found it hard to believe. When he'd experienced those memories in the Pensieve before, no one had been able to see him, let alone interact with him.
But when he saw that Dumbledore also looked astonished, Harry felt somewhat reassured.
Good, at least he wasn't the only one who'd never seen anything like this.
Kael, however, remained completely calm at the side, as if he had known all along.
"You can wander around as you like," Kael came over and said. "There are classrooms upstairs, and professors teaching, all courses from a thousand years ago. You can sit in if you want."