"You wanted to see me, Baron," Sean said politely.
"It is I… Mr. Green…"
The Baron's voice was hoarse and raspy—the ghosts said it had never sounded normal since the day he died.
"You gave her peace. My sins feel lighter because of you."
The Baron's low voice blended with the wind sweeping across the highest tower.
"And what about you?" Sean asked, just as quietly. Any louder and the breeze would have carried the words away.
"My business is not yours, sir. I called you here only to confirm one thing: can you truly release a ghost?"
The Baron drifted closer step by step. Up close, the chill that rolled off him cut straight to the bone.
"For those who have faith, death is the gate to everlasting life," Sean murmured. The words came from an old Ilvermorny headmaster's writings. They carried a strange power, like part of a long incantation that could stir hidden magic.
"Ravenclaw deserved a good ending. Her mistake was not unforgivable," the Baron said, as though a great weight had finally lifted from him. "When she asked me to find her, I already knew. Ravenclaw never hated Ravenclaw…"
"And you, sir?" Sean asked again.
"Ravenclaw hated the Baron—this blood is proof enough—"
The Baron gave a bitter smile, then let out a low, nervous chuckle. He sank straight through the floorboards. Just before he vanished completely, Sean caught his faint, muffled words:
"A man as guilty as I am… does not deserve release…"
Sean frowned. He couldn't speak for the Grey Lady and offer the Baron forgiveness in her place. But then again, he had no way of knowing whether she still hated him.
The mist was thick tonight. Maybe he would finally learn the truth.
…
By afternoon, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most students' favorite class. The only ones still bad-mouthing Professor Lupin were Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies.
"Look at that pathetic trunk of his," Malfoy said loudly as Lupin passed by.
No one else cared that Lupin's trunk was battered and worn. Soon the conversation shifted to which class was more interesting—Care of Magical Creatures or Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"I'm voting Defense," Michael Corner said, repeating a rumor he'd heard somewhere. "Next lesson we're doing Red Caps and Kappa—supposedly we get up close with them—"
Red Caps were ugly little goblin-like creatures that lurked in places where blood had been spilled—dungeons, old battle trenches—waiting to club lost travelers. Kappa were scaly water monkeys with webbed hands, ready to strangle anyone who waded into their ponds.
"But first we have to survive Potions," Michael added nervously.
Ever since the afternoon class, Snape's mood had been especially foul, and everyone knew exactly why. The story of the Boggart turning into Snape and Neville dressing it in his grandmother's clothes had spread through the school like wildfire. Snape did not find it funny at all—especially since one particular black-haired wizard had nearly witnessed the whole thing.
Anyone who so much as mentioned Lupin's name now received a murderous glare. Snape seemed ready to hunt the man down the moment Potions ended.
The walk to the dungeon classroom felt as tense as their very first Potions lesson. Snape opened the class with the foulest expression they had ever seen.
The moment the students spotted the black-haired teaching assistant beside the lectern, they looked like shipwreck survivors spotting dry land.
Just as they expected, with Sean's quiet help they made it through the lesson alive. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff only lost twenty-five points between them.
"Mr. Green, it's so good you're here…" a Hufflepuff boy said gratefully on the way out.
"I don't know how to thank you. I swear I would've been expelled for stirring the cauldron with my right hand instead of my left…"
His Hufflepuff friend thanked Sean shyly too.
In truth, Sean didn't think Snape was nearly as terrifying as they believed. Still, he understood why the professor's mood was so black today.
No wizard enjoyed seeing himself in his grandmother's dress.
"Professor Snape is actually—" Sean began, but the Hufflepuffs shuddered and hurried away.
Sean caught Snape's icy stare. The Potions Master turned and headed straight for Lupin's office.
Sean watched for a second, then continued toward the Great Hall.
He had something important waiting for him after dinner: the second master-level magic branch he would unlock tonight.
Tonight's feast was bacon, beef stew, chicken, ham, prawns, and salmon, served with scones and mushrooms.
Sean glanced at his system panel—only three hundred points left in proficiency—when he noticed Crookshanks leap lightly onto Hermione's lap, a large dead spider dangling from his jaws.
"Does he have to eat that right in front of us?" Ron grumbled.
"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that yourself?" Hermione ignored Ron, stroking the cat gently.
Crookshanks chewed the spider slowly, his yellow eyes fixed arrogantly on Ron.
"Just stay right there," Ron muttered, stabbing his fork viciously into a mushroom while glaring at the cat. "Scabbers is asleep in my bag."
Crookshanks never blinked. The tip of his fluffy tail twitched once.
Then he sprang.
Ron jumped, but Crookshanks wasn't aiming for him. He followed Sean as he left the table.
"Hmm?"
The moment Sean realized the cat was trailing him, understanding dawned.
"You want my help?" Sean asked as Crookshanks jumped onto his shoulder.
"Help a certain someone get rid of a dangerous person in our midst?"
Sean smiled.
Crookshanks really was a very clever cat.