The weekend following Valentine's Day was laid-back and cozy.
That night, Sean encountered the Grey Lady again.
She was leaning against a stained-glass window near the Ravenclaw Tower. Beneath the drapes of the window, a layer of pale frost had formed.
A cold wind blew, prompting Sean to wrap his scarf tighter around his neck.
Just as he was passing by, he heard two Gryffindors rushing back to the castle, barely beating the curfew.
"It's freezing! Finally back inside... I'm going to drink three mugs of steaming hot cider!" one of them said, shaking the snow off his robes.
"I'm having four!" the other Gryffindor shot back, not wanting to be outdone.
A thought suddenly struck Sean: Ghosts didn't seem to fear heat or cold, so why did their presence always turn flames blue and drop the ambient temperature?
Pondering this, Sean walked past the stained-glass window.
---
Passing the fourth floor, Sean saw members of the Castle Spirit Cat Club lined up in a reverent queue to make wishes.
They had placed a Christmas tree next to the black cat statue. The tree was decorated with all sorts of trinkets, ranging from glittering holly berries to tiny, live golden owls that hooted softly.
Hannah Abbott, the club president, held a pamphlet in her hands, watching with satisfaction as everyone made their wishes.
Come to think of it, "making a wish" at the statue had become a unique Hogwarts tradition. Even students who weren't members of the club would stop by out of curiosity.
"Hannah, will the Castle Cat really answer?" Susan asked curiously from beside her.
"Just think about Harry, and then think about Ginny... Well, I think it's just that the time hasn't come for us to need it yet..." Hannah explained patiently.
Susan looked as if she had taken a Calming Draught. Without further hesitation, she placed her offering—a pumpkin pie—at the base of the statue.
In front of her, the black cat statue was spotless and adorned with small, delicate accessories.
Sean sighed and slowly blended into the crowd.
He remembered that this club didn't originally have this many members.
That changed when Ron's words spread like wildfire:
"Oh, how did we find that terrible diary? Do you really want to know?
Well, it all comes down to the mysterious legend of the Castle Spirit Cat...
The legend is real. It guards the entire castle... Maybe it's actually the consciousness of Hogwarts itself?
It sent Harry a dream. In that dream, it revealed the culprit—yes, that diary—and told Harry that a Basilisk, slumbering under a Parseltongue spell, was hiding in the castle...
Am I a member? Hah—I'm actually aiming to be the president..."
After the Christmas holidays, Ron's sensational revelation became one of the great legends of Hogwarts Castle.
Even the first-years had heard of it.
And so, the Castle Spirit Cat Club saw another surge in membership.
"Excuse me, would you like to join the Castle Spirit Cat Club?"
A boy with sun-kissed skin and a capable, energetic look ran up to Sean.
In his hand was an invitation card Sean had seen before.
"No, thanks," Sean shook his head.
"Alright, well, it's nice to meet you anyway. I'm Rolf, a first-year," the wizard said.
"Rolf Scamander?" Sean asked, slightly surprised.
"Oh! Oh, you know me? Or no, you know my grandfather... Yes, I'm going to be a great Magizoologist just like him! And the first thing I'm going to do is find the legendary magical beast—the Castle Spirit Cat!
"Can you believe it? Hogwarts actually houses such a magnificent creature... Between you and me, the Castle Spirit Cat Club is a massive organization specially approved by Headmaster Dumbledore!"
Rolf rambled on excitedly.
"Don't bother looking. You won't find it," Sean said, feeling a bit more chatty at the thought of Mr. Newt Scamander.
"Please respect my dream!" Rolf said indignantly.
"..."
Sean stared at him silently until the boy awkwardly scratched his head.
"I know it's hard, of course, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. My grandfather always says:
'The wind might carry off a sheet of parchment, but it cannot blow away a butterfly. Do you know why? Because the strength of life lies in defiance.'
If things were that easy to accomplish, life would be pretty boring, wouldn't it?"
Rolf seemed like the type who never met a stranger.
"Maybe your actions are bothering it?" Sean asked.
"Oh... oh, that..." Rolf looked a bit stunned. He genuinely hadn't considered that possibility.
"Okay, you've kind of convinced me. But I have to find it myself first. If that's really the case, I'll offer it a sincere apology. Do you think it's too late?" Rolf asked hesitantly.
"No, wait, I need to write a letter and ask Grandpa—" he added quickly.
"Maybe," Sean replied noncommittally.
"By the way, are you a first-year too? What's your name?" After two seconds of contemplation, Rolf was back to his energetic self.
"Sean Green."
"Mr. Green?!"
"Unless there's another wizard with that surname..."
"Mr. Green! Merlin's beard, everyone says you're the most learned student at Hogwarts. You must know about the Castle Spirit Cat..."
"I don't."
"I don't believe you! Please..."
---
After finally shaking off the overly enthusiastic Rolf, Sean barely made it back to the Ravenclaw common room before curfew.
As for Rolf, without a broom to help him, he was likely going to get caught.
Professor Snape hadn't been letting any night-wandering students off the hook lately.
Still, Sean hadn't expected that the shy and reserved Newt would raise a grandkid like Rolf.
He acted more like... a Gryffindor.
Ravenclaw Tower.
The stars were as bright as ever. Snowflakes began to drift past the window, and the castle fell into silence.
Sean sat by the window while Bai hopped excitedly around the fireplace.
As Sean's gaze swept over the Void Rune, the mist began to slowly rise.
---
The Borderlands.
The Wampus Cat's running speed was significantly faster than the Kneazle form.
It stretched its body to the fullest, a blur of motion as it sped past the mottled clusters of mist.
Occasionally, bizarre, glowing fog-shapes drifted toward it, but the Wampus Cat dodged them with agile grace.
Following the direction of Isolt's thread, it sprinted through the disorienting illusion.
The world behind the veil rarely looked like this. Here, there was only mist—elegant, blurry fog that hung like heavy curtains.
The wind roared in his ears. The Wampus Cat didn't know how long it had been running—long enough for the mist to rise higher and higher—before he finally saw Isolt Sayre in the distance.
Her eyes were no longer pearl-white, nor were they the grey of the Grey Lady. The Wampus Cat could easily see the luster of life in her irises.
"Lady Sayre," the Wampus Cat said, adjusting its breathing.
"A rare occurrence, my dear Green," Isolt Sayre said with a blink.
Beside her stood an old wizard.
While Isolt spoke, he stood quietly behind her, listening like an obedient child.