Dylan's plan for the "manifestation of memory" was already quite polished on a purely theoretical level. The interwoven symbols and rigorous formulas were enough to support the entire framework of the concept.
But for theory to become reality, it needed to be grounded in actual data. This was the only way to truly deduce its feasibility. Which parts had loopholes? What details needed to be adjusted? These things could only be confirmed through real observation.
Helena was all too familiar with this kind of experimental process, having been immersed in her mother's laboratory since she was a girl. So, she knew immediately that Dylan's demonstration of the spell was really about gathering crucial data. It wasn't just a show; it was a critical information-gathering exercise.
"Oh, and this diadem..."
Helena's gaze fell on the carved wooden statue of Ravenclaw. Her phantom eyes lingered on the diadem for a moment, a flicker of longing in them, which was quickly replaced by a sense of peace. She drifted a few steps closer, her fingertips brushing lightly against the statue's shoulder, as if bidding her mother a final farewell.
"Please give it to Professor Flitwick for me," she said, her voice soft but remarkably clear, each word carrying the finality of a settled matter. "And tell him that it's time to choose a new house ghost... I'll wait until Ravenclaw has a new one before I leave."
She had obviously been considering this decision for a long, long time. As the ghost of Ravenclaw House, she had guarded this place for so many years. Now, she was finally ready to lay down her invisible burden and wished to see the new one safely in place before she began her own journey.
"That sounds perfect. There's no rush, so that's enough time," Dylan said, watching her transparent form float beside the statue. In the morning light, she seemed more ethereal than ever, yet with a newfound resolution. He simply nodded and said, "I'll tell him."
Helena gave a slight nod in thanks. She then turned her gaze back to the wooden statue, as if trying to etch her mother's image into her very being. After a long moment, she slowly turned and drifted deeper into the chamber, her form gradually fading into the shadows of the bookshelves. Only a faint, ancient scent lingered in the air.
"Oh—"
Back in the office, Dylan was just about to explain the situation to Professor Flitwick in detail, his hand not even fully out of his bag, when the professor's eyes landed on the Ravenclaw diadem. The next second, a short, sharp gasp burst from Professor Flitwick's lips. He froze as if hit by a Body-Bind Curse, then toppled backward, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor with a terrible sound.
"Professor Flitwick? Professor!"
Dylan moved quickly, reaching out to steady him and keep him from crashing to the floor.
"Wait! Never mind me! Let me see!" Professor Flitwick struggled back to his feet, his hands shaking so much that it took him a while to pull his wand from his robe pocket. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself, then raised his wand and waved it silently at the diadem.
The spell's feedback only seemed to make him more agitated. He stood by his desk, eyes glued to the diadem, his hands trembling as they reached out, stopping just an inch from the artifact as if he was afraid of damaging it.
"How many years... how many years have we been searching for you..."
Finally, Professor Flitwick carefully lifted the diadem. The moment his shaking hands touched it, they became perfectly still. He held it as gently as if it were a feather, yet his tight-lipped expression and serious eyes made it seem as though he were cradling a heavy boulder. As he gazed at it, a single tear fell from the corner of his eye, tracing a path down his cheek and onto his robes.
"Every new Ravenclaw Head of House inherits the responsibility of finding the diadem from their predecessor. 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.' See? That's our motto! It's carved right here!" He wiped away the tear with his sleeve, then looked at Dylan, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and wonder. "My boy, how did you ever find this treasure?"
"Well, you see..."
Dylan then spun a tale about discovering the Room of Requirement by chance and, on a whim one day, thinking of Ravenclaw, which unexpectedly opened the door to a secret chamber. He explained that this was the simple, yet elusive, way to enter the chamber. For years, no one had stumbled upon it because those who knew of the Room of Requirement were always focused on whatever they desperately needed, not on something as unrelated as meeting a deceased founder. Who would ever go into the Room of Requirement thinking of a long-dead witch?
Dylan was no longer a boy, and his mastery of Occlumency and dream-weaving allowed him to control his emotions and reactions with ease. When he told this fib, he was so good at it that even his micro-expressions were flawless, because he made himself believe it was true. Professor Flitwick, who already had a soft spot for Dylan, believed him without a second thought.
"The Room of Requirement... Of course! I knew of the place, too, and always thought it was Ravenclaw's handiwork, but I never imagined... that she had a secret chamber hidden there." Professor Flitwick sighed with a mixture of remorse and revelation.
"And, Professor, there's more..."
Dylan then recounted his meeting with the Grey Lady. When he mentioned she was Helena Ravenclaw, Professor Flitwick's expression remained calm. After all, the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw was in the common room, and while they weren't identical, the resemblance between mother and daughter was striking. It didn't take a genius to figure out the connection after seeing the statue every day for years.
But when Dylan mentioned that Helena was preparing to depart and had asked him to find a new house ghost, the professor was truly surprised. However, the shock quickly gave way to a smile of relief. He was happy that the daughter of their founder was finally ready to continue her journey. She had lingered here for far too long, and her willingness to let go of the past was a good thing.
"I understand. I'll handle everything," he said. Replacing a house ghost was not unheard of; the current ghosts for the four houses weren't even from the same century, so it wasn't a task that would cause a panic.
"Finally, about this diadem..." Professor Flitwick looked at Dylan, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "You found it, and by all rights, it should belong to you, but..."
"No, no, Professor," Dylan said, a look of noble sincerity on his face. "The diadem was a memento of Lady Rowena herself, and I returned it to Miss Helena. It was she who decided to leave it at Hogwarts, and I merely acted as a messenger. Besides, it makes me incredibly happy to see this Ravenclaw artifact back where it belongs."
At this, Professor Flitwick's eyes welled up again, and he looked ready to burst into tears. "My boy... it is an immense honor to be your professor... To celebrate Mr. Dylan bringing back the Ravenclaw diadem, five hundred points to Gryffindor!"
He carefully wrapped the diadem in a soft velvet cloth he'd taken from nearby and held it close, as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
"That's the most I'm allowed to award," he said, "but I will speak with Professor Dumbledore about this. Your actions deserve much more recognition. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go share this wonderful news with everyone..."
"Of course, Professor," Dylan said with a gentle smile. He stood up, opened the office door, and walked out first. "Oh, I must remind you that tomorrow is the first day of exams. If you get too excited, you might affect the grades of the Ravenclaw students."
"Ah, you're right! Thank you for the reminder!" Professor Flitwick said without slowing down. "Even so, I have to tell the headmaster first, and the former Heads of House, and all my old friends from Ravenclaw..." He rattled off the names as he scurried down the corridor, the velvet bundle clutched tightly to his chest, his figure quickly disappearing from sight.
"The professor is certainly excited," Dylan said, watching him go, a mix of amusement and understanding in his voice.
"You should be able to understand, shouldn't you?" Helena's ghostly form drifted out of a nearby wall, her gaze following the professor. "Please allow me to express my gratitude once again, and to apologize for my earlier suspicions."
She turned to Dylan, gracefully lifting the hem of her dress and curtsying with an air of dignified sincerity. "You are a true Gryffindor—brave and righteous, a hero like Godric Gryffindor himself, but without the common flaws of his house." After straightening up, Helena looked at Dylan with heartfelt approval. "If Godric Diggory could see you, he would be very pleased. No... I should say that all three of the Hogwarts founders, except for Salazar Slytherin, would be proud of you."
As one of the first students at Hogwarts and the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, no one was more qualified to make such a statement than Helena.
Dylan quickly ran through a mental list of "true Gryffindors": Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville... Hmm... she's right; a Ravenclaw would appreciate my wisdom and cunning.
Although his mind was buzzing with thoughts, Dylan kept a pleasant, well-mannered expression on his face, giving her the smile everyone expected. "You are too kind."
The mention of Salazar Slytherin's name sparked a thought in Dylan, and he became curious. "Did Salazar Slytherin truly despise Muggle-born students?" Helena and Salazar Slytherin were contemporaries, and unlike her mother, she hadn't forgotten much, so her account would likely be the most accurate.
"It wasn't that he despised them, exactly," Helena said, her ethereal form gliding slowly as Dylan followed at a leisurely pace. "Slytherin himself was a pure-blood purist. He believed that pure-blood wizards were more talented than half-bloods, but there was a popular belief back then that half-bloods were more powerful, which he strongly disliked. He publicly stated that the idea was nonsense."
"So, half-blood students may have felt that Slytherin disliked or even hated them. And at the time..." Helena paused, her gaze distant, lost in a memory. After a moment, she continued, "The situation for wizards wasn't very good back then. Compared to the pure-blood families who had been wizards for generations, half-bloods with Muggle relatives were seen as... less trustworthy. In fact, Hogwarts was attacked because of this, so Slytherin was always cautious of half-blood students. You can't entirely blame him for that."
She added a final note, "Despite all that, he was still a responsible professor and Head of House who cared for every one of his students. He was a just person, far from the villain that some people make him out to be today."
Dylan nodded. The true nature of Salazar Slytherin didn't surprise him. After all, the four founders had once been the best of friends, and even when their philosophies clashed, Slytherin simply chose to leave. He didn't turn on his friends or engage in a bitter feud.