Chapter 306: The Crown Appears Suddenly
Click.
Crack.
The sharp, crystalline sound tore Harry and Helena away from their quiet staring.
A strange warmth that had been building between them dissolved instantly as both turned toward the marble statue.
The entire common room fell silent.
Ravenclaw's marble circlet—carved so delicately that even stone seemed soft—was splitting apart.
Like eggshell breaking under gentle pressure, the white surface flaked away piece by piece, peeled by a beam of moon-bright light pouring out from within.
Harry inhaled sharply.
The light formed a shape like the letter Y, its twin branches reaching from his heart and Helena's heart, joining together in the air before the statue.
He felt nothing physically—no warmth, no pulse.
Just an unreal sensation, like watching someone else's dream.
When Voldemort was near, a strange force had always surged in his chest, bright and terrifying.
This wasn't that.
This was something quieter.
Older.
As if it belonged to another world entirely.
Was it triggered by her name?
By the timing?
By her smile…?
Harry had no answer.
But he suspected that Rowena Ravenclaw—brilliant, meticulous Rowena—had prepared this mechanism for her daughter long, long ago.
Only a dozen seconds had passed.
Yet it felt like an eternity.
Above the statue, a crystal-white diadem slowly rose, freed from its marble shell.
It drifted along the beam of light, floating toward Helena and Harry in small, hesitant movements, as if approaching them step by step.
"That's it?" Harry whispered.
"How—how can that be possible?" Helena trembled. "I… I stole it. I hid it in a hollow tree in Albania…"
"No," she whispered again, voice shaking. "He knew. He must have known. He… he put this here?"
Her memories surged like a storm.
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Helena's Heart — Unsealed
She had wanted to outshine her mother.
To prove herself brighter, smarter, stronger.
In her desperation, she had taken the Diadem and run.
Rowena Ravenclaw never admitted the crown was missing.
Never told the other Founders.
Even on her deathbed, she still asked for her daughter.
Still waited.
Helena refused to return.
Her pride was more important than her mother's final wish.
And so Rowena died.
Helena, caught and killed by a mad pursuer, realized too late what she had lost.
Her ghost returned to Hogwarts…
But her mother was already gone.
Only the suitor who followed her in death remained—forever a ghost at her side.
For centuries, she stayed in the tower.
Cold, silent, unreachable.
Students came.
Many sought the Diadem.
None earned her trust.
Until a handsome boy appeared—Tom Riddle.
A descendant of Slytherin.
Burdened by a legacy, like herself.
He wanted to be known for himself, not his ancestry.
She saw herself in him.
She opened her heart.
She revealed the Diadem's location.
And then came the betrayal.
Not malicious—just neglect.
He disappeared from her life before graduation.
She never forgave him.
When he returned decades later, unchanged, he still did not come to see her.
Her resentment twisted into a silent vigil beside her mother's statue.
Then Harry Potter arrived.
A boy she had observed from afar—kind, humble, gentle.
Peeves avoided him because Harry frightened him with goodness, not cruelty.
He greeted her the same way Riddle once had.
His tone. His sincerity.
His awkward smile.
And for a moment, Helena felt warmth.
She had expected nothing more than conversation.
A fleeting reminder of her youth.
But then—
the crown appeared.
Her mother's crown.
Hidden in a statue she had stared at for a thousand years.
This magic… this love… could not be faked.
---
The Return of the Crown
"I don't know who this 'he' is," Harry said softly, eyes on the floating diadem. "But this… this must be something your mother left for you."
He reached out, and the crown settled gently into his hands.
"I think it's been waiting for you," Harry whispered. "Waiting for your smile—a real smile."
He thought of his own mother.
Her sacrifice.
Her love.
How it lived on in him, a spell woven into his blood.
When he held the crown, he felt something similar—motherly warmth, not dark magic.
"This wasn't left by anyone else," he said firmly.
"This is from her."
Helena trembled.
"Over a thousand years," she choked, "and you still think… my smile matters?"
She looked at the statue and saw her mother's face carved in stone—serious, wise, yet gentle.
Mother… I was wrong… I was so wrong.
"Ravenclaw's greatness," she whispered, "has nothing to do with the Diadem."
Maybe her mother crafted a new one after Helena stole the original.
Maybe she hid it here, hoping—praying—her daughter would return someday.
"I'm a fool," Helena breathed. "A ghost clinging to the past…"
Harry held out the diadem.
"This is yours," he said. "You decide what to do with it."
Helena reached out.
And the moment her spectral fingers touched the crown—
A miracle occurred.
A second crown—made of pearly, shimmering light—unfolded from the physical one like a spirit leaving a body.
It settled gently atop Helena's head.
A perfect fit.
Her mother's final gift.
(End of Chapter)
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