The sky was dark when Sean left the Alchemy office.
It was clearly a pitch-black, overcast night. Peeves was playing tennis against the wall in the entrance hall, forcing a group of students to wait until he left.
When Helena drifted past, Peeves let out a shriek, deflated like a punctured balloon, and flew panic-stricken into the ceiling.
Under her grey-white gaze, a wizard in black robes, holding several small mirrors, slowly approached.
Sean planned to give away all seven mirrors. Considering that the seven mirrors in a set could communicate independently with each other, and one had already been given to Professor Tyra, he decided to give the rest to the professors.
Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Headmaster Dumbledore... plus Professor Tyra and himself, making exactly seven.
With this in mind, he walked briskly toward the Transfiguration office.
On the way, he heard a voice that brought him both surprise and a touch of joy.
"Green."
Helena called out, her voice as light as a cloud in the sky.
"People always treat the day of death as a day of mourning, but at Ilvermorny, a headmaster once told me that for ghosts, it is the greatest holiday.
Happy holiday, Helena," Sean said softly.
"Don't make me cry at a time like this, alright?"
Helena revealed a side of herself that Sean had never seen before.
Perhaps that is the meaning of a friend—someone who allows you to truly feel alive.
"So, are you ready?" Sean asked tentatively.
"Should I trust you, Green?" she said.
To trust a young wizard, to believe he had seen her mother in a dream, to believe her mother had never cared about her betrayal...
It was a fantastical tale.
And yet...
"They call me the 'Grey Lady.'
Grey, caught between black and white, just like all of this—neither the brilliant white light that is expected, nor the pure darkness of self-exile. I am just... a shadow of regret.
But Green, you call me Ravenclaw."
Helena looked somewhat dazed.
Sean was at a loss. He opened his mouth but couldn't find the words.
He simply silently prepared the ritual for rest.
They walked past suit of armor after suit of armor, lantern after lantern.
Time seemed to blur within these unchanging scenes.
One hundred years after Helena Ravenclaw became a ghost, she finally dared to drift past the corridor where her mother's portrait hung. In the painting, Rowena's gaze was as sharp as an eagle's, but it never landed on her daughter.
One thousand one hundred years after Helena Ravenclaw became a ghost, she drifted past that corridor again. This time, Rowena's gaze in the painting seemed to find a focal point.
They arrived at the Hope Hut.
Raven, the Owl Gentleman, offered no resistance and allowed them to enter.
Sean instinctively felt this was the right place, just as Lady Isolt had departed from the Stone House of Origins.
The interior of the hut had transformed completely.
It was no longer the cozy hut decorated by Sean and his friends, but a place unfamiliar to him.
An owl portrait dozed on the wall by the fireplace. Behind it hung various framed photos, and beside it stood shelves filled with jars and bottles. A massive wooden table dominated the room, and upon it rested a diadem.
Beside the wooden table, a sliver of sky peeked through heavy curtains, illuminating the blue silk draped across the ceiling.
All was silent, save for the sound of Helena's breathing—breath that shouldn't exist.
Sean quickly realized this must be Ravenclaw's former office. He spotted many precious materials and ancient tomes.
He paid little heed to these extra treasures, turning instead to swiftly set up the ritual for rest.
Helena brushed her hand over every book, sat down on her once-favorite soft sofa, and then rose again.
Finally, she drifted to the very center of the ritual circle.
"It's getting late," she murmured to herself.
"Tomorrow is a brand new day," Sean said.
"Things are becoming more and more incredible, but I believe you, Green. Let these be my final words."
Helena smiled as she spoke, though blurry pearls shimmered at the corners of her eyes.
She never looked back.
---
Another ghost sent on.
Sean remained silent for a while.
He locked eyes with the Owl Gentleman and noticed that the portrait, having moved here, seemed disinclined to speak.
When Sean returned to the doorway, however, the Owl Gentleman started chattering away:
"Oh, Green, you little wizard, look at what you've done! You sent the ghost away and think you're so clever—"
It sang a tune learned from Merlin knows where.
Sean guessed it was probably one of Peeves' songs.
"You must be happy too, Mr. Owl," Sean said, looking into the Owl Gentleman's eyes.
"Little wizard! Let me tell you! I am not!"
At this, its feathers ruffled, and it flapped its wings as if to peck Sean, though it only managed to rap its beak loudly against the frame.
Its gold-rimmed spectacles slipped down again, but the parchment clutched in its talons never fell.
"Goodbye, Mr. Owl," Sean bid a polite farewell.
"Goodbye, clever little wizard," the Owl Gentleman huffed.
---
Dusk arrived, and Hogwarts Castle glowed with warm light.
Torches lined the corridors, and candles floated in the classrooms.
Everything looked solid and real.
But in another place, a place shrouded in mist...
Everything was a blur.
In the forest, the tranquil lakeside did not always exist. Most of the time, the streams here ran dry.
The riverbeds were exposed earth, inlaid with bizarre, glowing clumps of fog.
In the distance, amidst the desolation, a weary witch could be seen.
She stood quietly, holding a worn book in her hands.
This was the solitude every wandering soul had to endure; every lingering thought of happiness in their hearts had to be repaid with loneliness in the spirit world.
But this time, Ravenclaw saw something.
She put down the book and walked toward an unfamiliar place. Just as Sean could always follow the threads to find those he sought, she too knew that more than ten centuries of time seemed to exist solely for this moment.
On the white, misty ground stood an equally bewildered witch. Strangely, the moment she stepped onto this land, flowers miraculously bloomed all around her.
She tried carefully not to step on the flowers but accidentally bumped into something.
Helena fell to the ground, a look of panic on her face.
The next moment, she was gently encircled in an embrace.
"It's okay to fall... I've come to catch you, Helena," a voice said.
Silence followed.
Sometimes words are pale and useless, but it doesn't matter, for tears are the final means of communication.
After a long time, a sentence finally broke the silence.
"So, my dear Helena, do you know what love is?
It is a cat that comes unexpectedly."
Rowena Ravenclaw smiled, tears sliding down her face.