Chapter 304 – The Heart of Spring is Rippling
Midnight settled softly over Hogwarts when Alexander Smith returned to the hidden chamber within the Hiding Place of the Room of Requirement. Jack, the ever-obedient house-elf, stood respectfully before him, cradling the artifacts Alexander valued almost as highly as the restored Ravenclaw Diadem.
Two minutes later, Jack stepped through the shimmering dimensional wall again, appearing silently beside his master. Alexander didn't waste time. With a smooth flick of his wand, parchment materialized in the air—an intricately drawn map of the treasure-filled labyrinth.
"This dimensional wall will remain stable for one night," Alexander instructed, floating the map into Jack's hands. "Anything marked in red must be brought back to the castle."
But he wasn't finished.
"I'm giving you something else as well."
Silver light unfurled from his wandtip, twisting and folding in the air until it solidified into a radiant glove—metallic, moonlit, and delicate despite its power. The glove drifted toward Jack and slid neatly onto his slender hand.
"And remember," Alexander added, voice lowering. "Anything marked with a skull is dangerous. Do not touch those with any part of your body except that glove. Bring them directly to my study. Understood?"
"Yes, Master Alexander," Jack whispered.
Alexander disappeared without further sound—leaving the elf and the dimensional wall to their work. He wasn't worried. Something far greater than Jack guarded the other side, and the enchanted glove was merely a small gesture of caution.
A heartbeat later, Alexander's form slowly re-assembled inside the Ravenclaw common room, right beside the majestic statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.
Even at this quiet hour, the room wasn't entirely empty.
Nearly Headless Nick had spoken the truth: Helena Ravenclaw—known to students simply as the Grey Lady—stood silently near her mother's sculpture, her translucent form gleaming softly like frosted moonlight.
Alexander remained unnoticed; his passive concealment spell caused ghosts to overlook him as easily as humans.
He studied Helena quietly.
If he had been a more wicked man, he mused, with his abilities he could probably make half the witches of Hogwarts take extended maternity leave. The thought made him brush a hand against his chin in amused self-rebuke.
Helena's beauty was subtle and mournful, like a delicate portrait fading under candlelight. Her expression held a loneliness that tugged at the heart, her gaze locked upon the stone likeness of her mother.
Even Alexander, disciplined as he was, felt something stir—an instinctive pull. He mentally recited his sixteen-word calming mantra, clearing his thoughts.
Once his mind had regained its usual balance, he shifted his attention to the Diadem resting in his hands.
Its principle fascinated him.
It did not make its wearer more intelligent.
It was not an external repository of wisdom.
It did not strengthen the mind in the way legends claimed.
Alexander understood at last why Helena had run from home.
She had believed the Diadem would awaken brilliance within her—a tool that would prove she was worthy of the Ravenclaw legacy. But instead, she discovered the truth: the crown merely quieted distractions and relaxed the mind. A spiritual balm, not a miracle.
For a proud young woman who saw herself as Rowena's successor, the realization must have been devastating. Her dreams shattered by the weight of her own expectations.
Rowena Ravenclaw had withheld the Diadem not out of pride, but mercy—protecting her daughter from a truth she feared Helena could not bear.
To Alexander, the Diadem was little more than a refined mental aid. He had long since outgrown the need for such things; even keeping his pet hamster, Dr. Flywheel, in his pocket provided the same calming effect.
"Tasteless to use… a pity to discard," he murmured thoughtfully.
His eyes drifted back to Helena. Her ethereal vulnerability sparked another idea in his mind—one he set aside for later.
Tomorrow, perhaps.
And if his plan worked, Harry Potter's workload would increase, which amused him to no end.
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At seven the next morning, sunlight spilled into Gryffindor Tower. A warm breeze slipped through the curtains and brushed Harry Potter's cheeks, whispering of fresh grass and early spring.
Harry blinked awake.
Someone was flying outside.
He threw off his covers, crawled to the window, and peered out. Down by the Black Lake, a lone figure soared gracefully over the lawn on a broomstick, weaving through the morning light with effortless elegance.
The other boys were still asleep. Good.
Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out the Omnioculars Draco's father had gifted him last Christmas—a model meant for the biggest Quidditch matches, complete with replay and slow-motion analysis.
He checked again to ensure no one was watching, then pressed the Omnioculars to his eyes.
A girl.
A beautiful girl.
Long black hair whipped behind her like a sleek banner. The early sunlight softened her profile. Her eyes seemed bright even from a distance.
"A Ravenclaw…" Harry whispered.
And she was flying a Comet 260.
His heart fluttered stupidly.
He imagined flying over to her on his Nimbus 2001, maybe striking up a conversation—
No, that was ridiculous.
"She must love Quidditch… Would she talk to me if she saw the Nimbus? Would she let me fly together with her?"
He caught himself and grimaced.
"She's probably the kind of girl who doesn't get swept away by fame. She's a Ravenclaw! She won't just fawn over me because I'm Harry Potter…"
But he couldn't stop watching.
Replay. Slow motion. Zoom.
The Omnioculars captured every turn of her wrist, every smooth dive.
Then he noticed her Tornadoes badge.
Tornadoes.
Black hair.
Ravenclaw.
"Is that… Cho Chang?"
The girl Johnny had praised but who never seemed to appear in front of him?
Hermione knew her. They might even be friends.
Friends.
He imagined that word reverently.
But then his thoughts jumped—unexpectedly—to the Ravenclaw Diadem.
Hermione had explained it to him in detail: the lost treasure said to enhance wisdom, possibly the same object Hagrid had retrieved from Vault 713.
If he could find it…
Would Cho Chang admire him?
Would she think him clever?
Would it help him approach her without embarrassment?
Harry's heart pounded.
Nearly Headless Nick had mentioned that Ms. Grey spent long hours staring at Rowena Ravenclaw's statue recently.
And one ancient essay said Ms. Grey was Rowena's daughter.
Could the crown on the statue be the real Diadem?
Maybe it only appeared at certain times.
Maybe others could not see it—but Helena could.
And if Helena was watching the statue…
Then perhaps—
"The Diadem has appeared," Harry whispered.
And suddenly, his morning had a new purpose.
(End of Chapter 304)
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