"Just one small question, Sean—what did Voldemort choose to make into a Horcrux?"
Before the statue could act, Justin reined in his emotions and asked with a hint of curiosity.
"Ravenclaw's Diadem," Sean paused, then replied.
"Ravenclaw's Diadem?!" Justin blurted out before he could stop himself.
At Hogwarts, there were countless legends about Ravenclaw's diadem.
Just as most Hogwarts students knew Slytherin was a Parselmouth, most of them also knew Ravenclaw had left behind a diadem forged by magic.
Supposedly, it could increase a witch or wizard's intelligence. The Weasley twins had even sold fake "Ravenclaw diadems."
If they hadn't tried to pass off glass marbles as rubies, they might actually have gotten three Sickles for them.
"Mm." Sean didn't dwell on Justin's outburst. He leveled his wand and ordered the statue—its head nearly brushing the ceiling—to move.
At the same time, his Magical Transfiguration proficiency ticked up by three points.
"Sean… this is—Ravenclaw's diadem. There has to be a way—something we can do that doesn't involve destroying it—something that removes the curse…"
Justin fell silent for a moment, then decided he had to try.
Even if Sean treated the diadem like the everyday toffee in the Great Hall, Justin understood better than anyone how much Sean valued wisdom and knowledge.
And now—now that he knew Voldemort could still return—he was even less willing to destroy a powerful magical artifact that might actually be useful.
"Maybe," Sean's eyes shifted slightly. "Or maybe it's just a legend."
The statue hesitated for only a heartbeat before it began thudding forward, "thump—thump—thump," stopping in front of the diadem.
"Little wizard! Bold little wizard! Stay away from it!"
A familiar voice echoed through the Room of Requirement.
Mr. Owl.
Its gold-rimmed spectacles had fallen onto the floor.
The stone guardian, Sean, and Justin all turned at the same time and stared at it.
"What are you looking at?! Stupid little wizard! Reckless little wizard! Likes the junk room— and there's also a—"
Mr. Owl kept flapping its wings.
Even though it had "lost its glasses," the claws gripping its parchment scroll didn't loosen in the slightest.
"Mr. Owl!" Justin was delighted. It was the first time he'd seen the owl portrait anywhere other than Hope Cottage.
"Stupidly loyal little wizard!" Mr. Owl snapped.
"As a sage of many centuries, you must know about Ravenclaw's diadem," Justin said, not even bothering to argue, switching to careful deference instead. "And when you said 'and there's also a—' what did you mean?"
"That's a secret!"
Flattery did nothing for Mr. Owl.
"Fine… then you probably don't know how Ravenclaw's diadem was turned into a Horcrux either—" Justin said, deflating.
"Brain stuck in the dirt, little wizard— I don't know?!
Go find Grey— go find Helena— you and your little clever tricks—"
Mr. Owl's rant built to a pitch, then suddenly cut off. Its voice dropped, quieter.
"Tragedy can teach a wizard… many things."
Justin's eyes lit up. Before he could even thank it, Mr. Owl vanished.
At the same moment, Whitey suddenly took off from the window and flew away.
"Grey— Grey— Grey Lady… Sean, if we can figure out how Voldemort made a Horcrux, maybe we can lift the curse without destroying it. There's still a chance."
Justin murmured a quick thanks to the vanished portrait, then spoke in a low, excited rush.
Sean glanced once at Ravenclaw's diadem. He lifted his wand; the stone guardian melted back into the wooden shelving, then reshaped itself into a solid stone box, sealing the diadem inside.
Only then did Sean feel a little steadier.
"If we can't solve it today, then we—" Sean began.
"Destroy the diadem immediately," Justin said, voice low and hard.
When Sean and Justin left the Room of Requirement, they ran into Hermione at the door—looking frantic.
So as they headed toward Ravenclaw Tower, Justin kept his voice down and carefully explained what a Horcrux was.
"So… he can come back…?" Hermione's face went white.
"There's nothing to worry about, Hermione. He wants to kill every Muggle-born—but he's overlooked the one thing that matters: Muggle-borns are the best witches and wizards of this era.
We'll stand together. We'll follow the strongest wizard among us. And we'll fight him to the end."
Justin's tone was unwavering.
Hermione couldn't speak for a moment. The news was too monstrous to absorb.
In the corridor, a low roar of noise swelled—like distant thunder—telling them students had returned from Hogsmeade again.
From both ends of the hallway came the sound of many feet thumping up stairs, and the bright, satisfied laughter of people full of food and cheer. Then students poured into the passage from both directions, shoving and jostling.
Sean and the others stayed in the shadows, their silhouettes stretched long by the dusk.
"You're right," Hermione said suddenly, trembling. "We'll fight him to the end."
"You know, Hermione—if my mother were here, she'd say—" Justin stared out over the bustling corridor. In the distance, Hagrid was coming back from the Quidditch pitch; between the tall goal posts, brooms flashed back and forth like shooting stars. "My dear Granger, let me show you what real courage is. Courage isn't a gun in someone's hand.
Courage is knowing you'll lose before you even begin—and doing it anyway, and refusing to stop no matter what."
His eyes burned—nothing like Sean's calm green. In Justin's pupils, something surged like ocean and storm.
Outside the castle, snow was falling.
Thick, heavy snow—goose-feather flakes drifting down onto the castle spires.
Inside, by the torchlight, three young wizards swept past, walking like the wind.
Along the way, they saw many ghosts:
Ghosts near Gryffindor Tower; restless ghosts; Nearly Headless Nick staring gloomily out the window, muttering under his breath, "—didn't meet their requirements— just half an inch, if only—"
The Fat Friar from Hufflepuff tried to comfort him: "I say, they ought to give you another chance—"
Finally—at last, under the trio's desperate, hopeful stares—Ravenclaw's ghost appeared.
She was a tall young woman with long, flowing hair.
Her form was translucent silver-white, beautiful—yet tinged with pride and deep sorrow.
"There!" Hermione gasped. "The Grey Lady!"
"Grey… probably isn't her name," Justin murmured, as if thinking aloud—then looked at Sean.
Sean gave a small nod.
For a long time, most Hogwarts students had assumed it was the ghost's surname.
But really, it was likely just a nickname—she was called the Grey Lady.
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 120 Chapters Ahead of Others!