The Grey Lady extended her translucent hand, reaching for the diadem placed on the table. Compared to the state it was in after last year's battle, Nico had restored the diadem's appearance perfectly.
The ornate details, once crushed by a warhammer, were now as pristine as ever. However, Nico hadn't repaired the diadem's true function—the ability to grant wisdom to its wearer.
As a ghost, the Grey Lady couldn't touch physical objects. Her hand passed through the diadem, but her expression grew content.
"At least it's back at Hogwarts," she murmured after a long pause. "It's back. I wish Mother could see it again."
"I think," Harry said softly, "that Rowena Ravenclaw would want to see you most of all. You're her only family, her most beloved daughter."
The Grey Lady—no, Helena Ravenclaw—stared at Harry, speechless.
Suddenly, she smiled. "You're right," Helena said, her voice lightening. "Mother would want to see me. Yes, that's it—I should go to her. I can't keep her waiting too long."
As she spoke, her pearlescent ghostly form began to fade rapidly, as if the essence holding her together was being drawn away. In mere moments, she vanished completely from the empty classroom.
Her final words lingered in the air: "Tell Barrow I'll never forgive him, and I'll never love him. Tell him to go die!"
Though her words were a curse, Helena's tone was oddly cheerful, as if she were casually discussing dinner plans.
Harry considered for a moment and decided to pass on Helena's message. After asking a few portraits for directions, he found the Bloody Baron in a dungeon classroom.
"…That's what Helena left behind, er, her final words," Harry said, quickly explaining what had happened.
The next moment, a relieved smile spread across the Bloody Baron's face.
"She's chosen to move on…" Barrow muttered to himself. "She acknowledged me… she acknowledged me… haha… she…"
Just like the scene Harry had witnessed in Ravenclaw Tower, Barrow's form began to dissipate rapidly. Soon, he was gone entirely.
"Is that—did a ghost just ascend?" Severus Snape's voice cut through as he stepped into the room, having heard the commotion from his office nearby. He arrived just in time to see Barrow vanish.
"Yeah, ascended," Harry said, turning his head with an innocent expression. "Sorry, Slytherin's out of a ghost now. But don't worry—Ravenclaw's in the same boat."
Snape: "…."
His face darkened.
"Are you telling me, esteemed Headmaster Potter," Snape said, taking a deep breath and speaking in his characteristic drawl, "that with two other schools about to arrive, two of Hogwarts' houses have lost their representative ghosts?"
"It's a good thing, Severus," Harry said thoughtfully. "At least they've both found the courage to move on. We should be happy for them."
"Don't mimic Dumbledore!" Snape's face grew even darker.
"I need to find new house ghosts for Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Any recommendations?" Harry asked.
"Do you think suitable house ghosts grow like weeds by the roadside?" Snape snapped. "Why can't you be more like Lily? Always causing trouble—typical Gryffindor. Just like your father!"
"Mind your tone, Severus," Harry said with a grin. "In school, it's Headmaster Potter."
"…Yes, Headmaster Potter!" Snape said through gritted teeth. "Then this is a matter for the headmaster and deputy to handle, not a poor, innocent Potions professor like me!"
With a dramatic sweep of his black robes, Snape turned to leave.
"But you're the Slytherin Head of House," Harry called after him, barely suppressing a laugh. "You wouldn't want some dreadful ghost representing your house, would you?"
Snape froze mid-step. He turned, his dark eyes boring into Harry.
"…I'll look into it," he said curtly before stalking off.
Harry shook his head slightly. The thought of breaking the news to Professor Flitwick about Ravenclaw's ghostless state gave him a headache. He could only hope the return of Ravenclaw's diadem would lift the professor's spirits.
It was strange, Harry reflected. Over time, he'd begun to notice a shift in Snape's behavior. At first, it seemed Snape had projected his feelings for Harry's mother, Lily, onto Harry himself. But as Snape spent more time with Lily's spirit and heeded her guidance, Harry sensed Snape was starting to lump him together with James—someone Snape decidedly didn't care for.
Lily was Lily, pure and untouchable.
This became especially clear before term started, when Harry and Lupin approached Snape to ask him to brew Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin each month during his tenure. Snape had unleashed a venomous tirade, sparing neither Lupin nor Harry. The only silver lining was that Snape agreed to make the potion—and promised not to make it taste too vile. Well, not excessively vile.
When Professor Flitwick learned his house ghost had ascended, his expression was as if the sky had fallen. But Harry quickly produced Ravenclaw's diadem, which mitigated the disaster. Though Harry explained the diadem's functionality hadn't been restored—only its appearance—Flitwick's enthusiasm was undampened.
The white-haired professor, both mentor and friend to Harry, eagerly volunteered to find a new ghost for Ravenclaw, on the condition that Harry let him keep the diadem temporarily to "savor" it.
No Ravenclaw could resist the allure of Rowena's diadem, just as no Gryffindor could resist Gryffindor's sword.
The start of term always passed quickly. New classes, new magic, and the thrill of sharing summer adventures with friends made time slip by unnoticed. Random new dishes appearing on the dining tables only added to the excitement.
Until late October, the eve of Halloween.
At six o'clock that evening, representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive, and afternoon classes had been cut short by half an hour to prepare.
"They're finally coming," Ron said, wiping sweat from his brow. The Potions lesson they'd just endured had left him feeling like his bones were jelly. "Honestly, if they took any longer, I'd have suffocated."
"It's a bit much," Neville said glumly. "Merlin, I never thought Filch would revert to his old self. He goes ballistic if anyone dirties the corridors."
"Cut him some slack," Hermione said with a sigh. "Filch isn't just our apprentice mate—he's the castle caretaker. If the place is a mess when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive, it'll embarrass Hogwarts. He's probably under a lot of pressure."
"Is he? I think he's enjoying himself, like he's rediscovered his true calling," Ron muttered.
"You think?" Hermione laughed. "I thought your eyes were only for Lavender these days. Didn't know you had room for Filch."
"Hey! Mate! What do you mean, 'room for Filch'? That's a weird way to put it," Ron protested. "And Lavender and I—cough! We're just good friends, that's all!"
"Oh? Friends?" Hermione teased with a sly smile. "Friends who snog in the library?"
"How'd you know?!" Ron yelped, jumping as if electrocuted.
"Because you were so caught up you got kicked out by Madam Pince!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You think I'd go looking for your little rendezvous?"
"Of course not!" Ron said quickly. "But—but—"
"Looks like it's true," Harry said, eyeing Ron closely. In seconds, Ron's face had turned as red as his hair.
"Mate," Ron said, rubbing his hands nervously, "Lavender and I—er, yeah, we're together. What's the problem?"
"No one said there was a problem," Hermione said, blinking innocently. "You're the one overreacting. And you and Lavender—it's practically a hero-saves-damsel story, isn't it? Totally normal."
"Yeah, hero saves damsel," Ron said, breaking into a goofy grin. "She says she totally admires me—especially when I stood up to Lockhart last year…"
Here we go, Harry thought. Ron's storytelling mode had kicked in. He exchanged a glance with Hermione and Neville, who shrugged. No one interrupted.
Ever since Ron had heroically distracted Lockhart last year, Lavender Brown had become his biggest fan, pursuing him with fervor. Harry wasn't surprised they'd finally gotten together. Even over the summer, especially during their time at Grimmauld Place, Ron had been bombarded with owl post—sometimes two or three letters a day. The poor owl had gone on strike a few times.
Ron probably thought he'd been discreet, but Fred and George had just been too kind to tease their little brother too much.
"Wait—Dumbledore's here?" Hermione said suddenly, spotting a familiar white-bearded figure at the Great Hall's entrance.
"Yeah, Karkaroff insisted Dumbledore be present during the Triwizard Tournament," Harry whispered. "I'll catch up later—I've got to go."
"Go get 'em! Show Beauxbatons and Durmstrang what our headmaster's made of!" Ron said, snapping out of his daze and pumping a fist.
The Great Hall had been transformed since morning. It wasn't just decorated—it was a complete overhaul. Massive silk banners in red, yellow, blue, and green hung on the walls, each bearing the emblem of a Hogwarts house: lion, badger, eagle, and snake. Behind the staff table, the largest banner displayed Hogwarts' crest.
The display amplified the students' school pride. For the past week, the castle had buzzed with one topic: the Triwizard Tournament. Who would be Hogwarts' champion? What were Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students like? How did they compare to Hogwarts?
Now, with the other schools' arrivals imminent, Hogwarts' four houses stood united as one—even Slytherin.
Even Slytherin.
The students gathered in the Entrance Hall, with professors lined up in front and Harry, Dumbledore, and McGonagall at the forefront.
"How does it feel to be back at Hogwarts?" Harry asked Dumbledore with a grin. "You lived here for decades. This place must feel like home. Ever think about coming back?"
"Oh, I must admit, seeing Hogwarts again is wonderfully nostalgic. Thank you, Headmaster Potter, for allowing an outsider like me to return," Dumbledore replied with exaggerated playfulness.
"Don't mention it. It was Karkaroff who insisted on your presence," Harry said, smiling. "You give him more of a sense of security than I do."
"Not the most flattering sentiment," Dumbledore said, winking. "But I understand his unease. You may not know this, Harry, but there's a curious rumor in the wizarding world."
"A rumor?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "They say someone was approached by Death Eaters."
"Death Eaters?" Harry tilted his head, surprised. "Lucius didn't mention anything. What's the rumor about?"
"I'm not questioning Mr. Malfoy's loyalty," Dumbledore said seriously. "I'm only saying that someone claiming to be a Death Eater approached a person. I've verified it myself—what's curious is that the person is still alive, and there was no Dark Mark over their house."