Chapter 234
Draco Malfoy took the long, slender quill from Luna Lovegood and began to write:
"An arrow flying through the air is, at any given instant, motionless… yet we know it is moving. Where lies the contradiction?"
A classic paradox appeared neatly across the parchment.
He chose something relatively reasonable. If he truly wanted to test the book, he could push it further—but there was no need to go that far.
After a moment, he finished writing.
Luna leaned closer, studying the lines with curiosity.
"It feels profound… but interesting," she said.
The ink faded.
The massive book began to turn its pages with a soft rustling sound, slowing gradually before stopping. Words appeared again, forming themselves line by line:
"Time is uncertain, yet one truth remains — its essence lies in continuous flow."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed slightly.
So it could answer.
Ravenclaw's legacy was not simple. Wizards often neglected logic, but Rowena Ravenclaw's creations clearly did not.
For a brief moment, he considered asking something more difficult.
He restrained himself.
There was no point bullying a tool like this.
Some questions had obvious answers—but were difficult to act upon. No book could resolve that.
"How is it?" Luna asked. "It works, doesn't it? Now you can ask what you really want."
She turned around politely.
"I won't look."
A soft, distant melody left her lips as she hummed.
Malfoy shook his head.
"There's no need."
He stepped back.
"Let's go. It's time to eat."
Luna looked at him again, her pale eyes steady.
"You're not asking anything else?"
"No."
She nodded slowly.
"Then you must already have your answer."
A pause.
"…Was I interfering?" she asked, quieter this time.
"Not at all," Malfoy replied. "Thank you. It's a useful thing. I might come again."
The book reminded him of something oddly familiar—like a repository of accumulated knowledge, refined over generations.
Luna suddenly brightened.
"Oh, wait here."
She hurried behind a blue curtain near the door.
Malfoy glanced toward it.
The girls' dormitory.
A moment later—
She returned.
Malfoy blinked.
Then blinked again.
If his eyes weren't deceiving him, he was looking at… a giant ear of corn.
Luna stood before him, smiling.
Her upper garment was bright golden, textured like rows of plump kernels. The lower half flowed in layered greens, like corn leaves trailing to the floor.
"Do you think the Crumple-Horned Snorkack will be attracted?" she asked lightly. "My father and I made this long ago. He sent it when he heard about the ball."
"…So that's why you were holding corn earlier," Malfoy muttered.
"It's bait."
He exhaled slowly.
"Your father is… quite talented."
"Of course," Luna said softly. "He's the best father in the world."
There was a faint shift in her expression—something distant, nostalgic.
Then she added,
"I don't really like dancing. And I didn't expect anyone to invite me. Even if your invitation wasn't entirely sincere… I still appreciate it."
Malfoy looked at her for a moment.
"That's not enough."
Luna tilted her head.
"What isn't?"
"You're missing something."
He gestured toward the outfit.
"If the Snorkack really likes corn, appearance alone won't be enough. You need scent. Corn-flavored perfume."
Luna's eyes lit up instantly.
"That makes sense! But how do we make it?"
"Distillation," Malfoy replied. "That would preserve the scent best."
Luna bounced slightly in place, clearly delighted.
Malfoy allowed himself a faint smile.
Some people mocked dreams.
Others dismissed imagination as foolishness.
But there was no value in destroying what gave someone joy.
If one could preserve even a little of that—then it was not meaningless.
Perhaps… this had been worthwhile after all.