Ron's words left Sean momentarily dazed.
Then he smiled and nodded.
"This doesn't really have much to do with me. It's because you worked for it," Sean said earnestly.
"I figured you'd say that…"
Ron muttered. His voice was so low no one could hear it.
"You'll never know how much you've done—or how important it is."
In the corridor, the young witches and wizards drifted away in small groups.
Ron included.
He was walking past a second-floor window now, the glass still crusted with ice crystals.
One level above him, Sean passed the same spot at a different height, by the stained-glass windows.
What Ron had said gave him an idea.
The magical world's teaching system was always fuzzy—something that had been true since the moment he first came into contact with magic, and still remained true now.
Maybe magic really was mysterious and profound, but there were still patterns within it—rules that could be grasped.
Headmaster Dumbledore had once said:
"More than death, people fear the unknown."
That applied to magic just as well.
When magic relied only on "talent and intuition," witches and wizards were like people charging headlong into a boundless forest.
They couldn't see the road ahead, and they didn't even know where they were.
Sean's notes were like clear signposts carved by those who came before, and the standards he set through the panel let young witches and wizards know exactly what stage they were at.
He'd never really considered what it meant to them—to know their precise level.
But Ron's words made him reflect.
It seemed he could still do more for the continuation of magical knowledge.
That alone was enough to make him happy.
Lost in thought, Sean didn't even notice Professor McGonagall striding along not far behind him.
Today Hogwarts was all sleet and snow again—goose-feather flakes falling over the gray outlines of distant mountains, icy wind scraping at the windows.
Sean kept having to warm his scarf with his wand so it wouldn't end up completely soaked.
"Not happy with your head?" Helena said by the window.
"…I'm very happy with it," Sean answered truthfully.
Helena: "…"
"So what story were you going to tell? If you know more about the ninth century than I do, I might be willing to listen," Helena asked, a little helplessly.
"It was… the world beyond the Veil," Sean said slowly.
That made Helena deeply uncomfortable. She feared that place—and would never be able to go there.
It was like describing food to someone starving; if the wizard in front of her weren't named Green, she would have snorted and left long ago.
"Sorry… but I went there, and I met someone unexpected," Sean continued.
"Green, you don't lie—" Helena thought it was a joke so absurd it was almost funny.
Sean didn't respond. Instead, he let the Void Sigil float up. Any wizard could feel the dreamlike, thread-thin mist curling around it.
"A legendary Soul Relic?!" Helena admitted it—she'd still underestimated him.
Even though she'd already placed him just a hair beneath her.
"All right. Then what?" Interest sparked in her.
"I met Lady Ravenclaw," Sean said.
Helena felt as if she'd been struck by lightning. After a long silence, she said:
"Green, if witches and wizards could use a soul relic to meet the dead, the world would've fallen apart ages ago.
But… I believe you.
Go on—what sweet lies are you going to spin?
I'll be blunt. There's nothing left on me worth stealing."
She tried to sound indifferent, but inside, a storm was tearing her apart.
"She said… it's okay," Sean replied.
No honeyed words—just three simple syllables, and Helena froze on the spot.
Something pearl-like fell where she stood.
Sean lowered his head and pretended not to see.
"In the world of ghosts, if no one remembers them, they gradually lose their wisdom and emotions.
I want to say… maybe someone is still waiting for you."
After a while, once Helena had steadied herself a little, Sean continued.
"Thank you for weaving me such a lovely dream, Mr. Lucky Black Cat… but forgive me. I can't listen anymore."
Helena, more flustered than she'd ever been, drifted away on instinct.
If she believed him, it would be cruel enough to make even a ghost tremble.
"Lady Isolt taught me some ways to let ghosts rest," Sean added.
"Don't joke with me, Green!" Helena couldn't help shouting.
Thankfully, Sean had anticipated it and cast a Muffling Charm, so it didn't draw the attention of nearby students.
And as for Sean talking to a ghost—no one cared. If Mr. Green could talk to a basilisk, this was hardly surprising.
…
Helena floated off.
Before she left, she caught sight of The Ghost Book in Sean's hands—and the "Repose Rite."
She watched him spread the ritual out swiftly, and felt a strange magical power in it.
She hovered in the corridor, stunned.
Wind passed through her like a transparent river. Raindrops fell like icy meteors. The castle seemed to contain only her—small, cramped, and bleak.
Her heart, long since stilled, brewed an immense sorrow for her—yet she couldn't shed a single tear.
"Rowena…"
Curled in a corner, she whispered the name, the way she had long, long ago—whenever she was fragile.
Sean followed silently.
He forced himself not to see or hear anything.
Just followed. Quietly followed.
Until Helena grew tired.
She noticed a young wizard's troubled face.
And realized she'd drifted outside the castle.
—They were walking out into the deepening dusk…
The air was full of warm grass, the scent of lake water, and the smoky smell of burning wood drifting from Hagrid's hut.
She had never been so aware, so sharply, that she had once lived.
"How long have you followed me, Green?" she asked.
"Ten hours and seventeen minutes. So…" Sean answered.
"I don't know," she said.
"Mhm," Sean replied.
As if nothing had happened, they looked out at the sunset—red as fire.
"I need to go to class," Sean suddenly said.
Helena's mouth lifted despite herself.
…
Back in the castle, Sean still didn't know how much he could really help.
He wasn't the one facing the hard choice.
But he didn't have long to dwell on it, because he ran into Professor McGonagall. She stood by a suit of armor in the corridor, her gaze slightly unfocused.
"Child, is there something you need to tell me?" she asked.
"Yes, Professor. I experienced something… strange beyond the Veil. I met Lady Ravenclaw," Sean said, hiding nothing.