Hearing Gryffindor's words, Slytherin's long beard trembled with anger. "My understanding of magic far surpasses yours."
Gryffindor simply scoffed. "What use is that academic nonsense? Let's settle things with a good, old-fashioned duel."
"Then duel with my great-grandson! Tom, I need your help."
"Damn it! You uncivilized old goat!"
"..."
Tom ignored the bickering ghosts behind him. He was here for something specific: the Ravenclaw diadem. He hadn't bothered retrieving it before, but his research into the remnants of Voldemort's soul had reached a critical point, and further progress demanded more raw materials.
The Room of Requirement yielded the diadem easily enough, tucked away in a cluttered corner. What surprised him, however, was the unexpected occupant.
"Miss Grey, would you be so kind as to hand over what's next to you?"
"Tom?!"
Helena Ravenclaw, the Grey Lady, had been staring vacantly at the diadem. Hearing a voice familiar yet distant, one she hadn't heard in ages, her eyes widened in astonishment.
Ever since the Bloody Baron had revealed her past entanglement with Tom, young Ravenclaw witches had relentlessly sought her out at the top of the tower, peppering her with questions she refused to answer directly.
She had been driven from her tower and, after much deliberation, sought refuge here. Consumed by guilt over Tom's "desecration" of the Ravenclaw diadem, she had avoided it for years. Now, drawn by a desperate desire to see it one last time, she had also hoped, against all reason, that Tom would come for it.
A foolish flicker of hope had bloomed within her when rumors of Tom's return reached her ethereal ears. She had lingered near the diadem, thinking if Tom didn't come to her, he'd come to the diadem, right?
Three years had passed, and this was the fourth time.
Now, finally hearing the voice she had longed for, the Grey Lady turned around in surprise.
Before her stood the man who had once treated her as a naive pawn. He appeared almost identical to the figure she remembered, save for the unsettling change in his eye color.
"How dare you return to face me?!" Miss Grey's voice dripped with fury. "Have you come to desecrate this diadem again? I won't allow it!"
...
Half a minute later, the Grey Lady, diademless, muttered resentfully, "Tom is just a red egg..."
Both Slytherin and Gryffindor immediately recognized the Grey Lady – wasn't she Ravenclaw's daughter?
Unlike the two elders, Tom already knew perfectly well who she was: Helena Ravenclaw, daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts.
In his estimation, she was utterly naive. Though burdened by expectations as Ravenclaw's daughter, she lacked her mother's intellect. Consumed by a desperate desire for wisdom, she had stolen the diadem and fled Hogwarts. The Bloody Baron, consumed by unrequited love, had been tasked by a dying Rowena to bring Helena back for a final farewell. However, the Bloody Baron had been… overly zealous. When Helena refused, he murdered her and then took his own life.
Centuries later, as a ghost, Helena had once again encountered Voldemort and been manipulated into surrendering the diadem.
What could Tom even say? At least his involvement had spared her from being killed by a weakling like the Bloody Baron.
At this moment, hearing voices besides Tom's, Helena realized they weren't alone. In fact, Tom was the only human present.
Helena glanced at the two arguing specters, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief.
What in the world is going on?! Slytherin and Gryffindor?!
Slytherin, noticing her bewildered expression, adopted an avuncular air, clearing his throat. "I believe you remember us, child. Remember how small you were back then? Smaller even than Tom is now, perhaps?"
"Yes, yes, we often discussed school matters with your mother," Gryffindor added, a note of nostalgia in his voice. "A pity you left Hogwarts. Rowena never stopped thinking of you until the very end."
Helena fell silent. "..."
Slytherin slapped Gryffindor upside the head. "Can't you speak properly, you old hag?!"
Watching the two founders of houses squabble before her, Helena shook her head sadly. Her mother… so much time had passed. What could she do? There was no way to make amends.
Of course, she regretted stealing the diadem and abandoning Hogwarts, but what good was regret now? All she could do was try her best to protect Ravenclaw's legacy.
Unfortunately… she had failed.
Helena glared resentfully at Tom, who was diligently studying the diadem a short distance away. Suddenly remembering something, she whirled back towards the two founders. "Mr. Slytherin, what is your relationship with Tom?"
"Oh, he's my grandson."
"He lied to me and stole my mother's belongings more than once."
"We only just met him."
"..."
Slytherin's shameless words made Tom turn around, his emerald eyes sharp as a viper's gaze.
Slytherin, initially flustered that his grandson had been caught stealing from his friend's daughter, stammered, "Ahem… my dear grandson, I was only joking, you know… just…"
Fortunately, Tom dismissed the old man's words with a curt, "Bald old man," before turning back to his task.
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