Hermione gasped. "You are Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter?"
Harry asked, "And who is this Rowena? This one does not know of her."
"Oh, Harry! Rowena Ravenclaw was the founder of Ravenclaw house!"
Harry was shocked. Hogwarts is a thousand years old. If she is the founder's daughter, even if she died of old age, she must have at least 900 'yin' years.
He immediately stood and bowed deeply. "Aiya! This boy is but a blind country bumpkin! I have just been speaking wildly and offended the Old Bodhisattva! I pray that Granny will forgive this one!"
Hearing him use terms like "Old Bodhisattva" and "Granny," Hermione and Ron turned away, covering their faces.
Helena just stared at Harry for a long moment.
"Your manner of speaking is truly nostalgic, Harry. As if everyone is still living in the year 990."
"But you should still call me 'Sister.' I was only eighteen when I died. No one has ever called me 'Granny'."
Harry shook his head. "Granny, your earthly years were few, but your 'yin' years are long. Even the great ancestor Peng Zu would have to yield to you. The order of seniority must not be disrespected."
"Harry, I said, just call me Sister."
"Granny, your words are wrong. Why must we disorder the ranks?"
"Because I was EIGHTEEN when I died!" Helena's ghostly form seemed to swell, her hair floating. "So I am forever... EIGH... TEEN!"
"Do I look like an old woman?!"
"I am merely experienced! I am not old!"
Seeing her so insistent, Harry relented. "If you put it that way, there is some reason in it. This one will obey you, Sister."
Hermione, fearing they would argue all night, and having another idea, cut in. "Lady Helena, may I ask you a question?"
"Hypothetically, if I wanted to enter an enemy's territory, how could I do so without being discovered?"
Rowena Ravenclaw had been famed for her wisdom. Helena, her daughter, was born with that same intellect. She heard Hermione's words and immediately guessed her plan.
"You want to go to the Slytherin common room?"
Hermione panicked. "No, I just—"
"I thought you were going to ask me where Ravenclaw's Diadem is," Helena smiled. "Almost every little wizard who speaks to me asks that."
Harry was confused. "What is this Diadem? This one has never heard of it."
Ron then explained the four founders and their four hidden items.
(A poem for the occasion):
Four sages founded this great school,
Leaving secrets for the young to rule.
Four relics hidden, for ages sought,
Each with its own strange magic wrought.
Gryffindor's Sword, so sharp and bright,
Ravenclaw's Diadem, of wisdom's light.
Hufflepuff's Cup, a golden prize,
And Slytherin's Locket, in shadow lies.
Ron, his throat dry, finished, "They say Rowena's Diadem is a magical object. Whoever wears it gains eternal wisdom."
Hermione, entranced, forgot all about infiltration. "Lady Helena, does the Diadem truly exist?"
"You wish to obtain my mother's Diadem?" Helena's expression was unreadable. "You covet eternal wisdom?"
For centuries, students had pestered her, all using flattery and clever words. She looked at Hermione, waiting for the usual flowery speech.
Hermione, her intentions exposed, blushed beet-red.
"No, Lady Helena, I didn't mean that! I just want to observe—"
Before she could finish, Harry slammed his hand on the table. "Aye! This one does wish to borrow your treasure! When my good brothers and I wear it, will we not all shine like the Star of Literature himself, as brilliant as the top scholars!"
"Sister, if you are willing to lend it, this one will go through water or fire at your command!"
Helena's mouth fell open.
She was used to honeyed words and deceit. This was the first time she had ever heard such "true-natured" (blunt, honest) words. It shocked her.
When she recovered, she stared hard at Harry.
"Boy-Who-Lived, you are indeed different. Unlike any man I have ever met."
"My mother often said that my Uncle Godric was a hot-tempered, straightforward man. If she met you, she would probably think Uncle Godric was quite civilized."
Harry had no time for this. "Sister, if you are willing, just bring the Diadem for us to use."
"No. I do not know where it is. It has been lost for a very long time."
Helena gazed at Harry, her spectral hand passing through his cheek. "I have remained at Hogwarts for over nine hundred years. You are the second man to ever truly interest me."
"The second?" Ron asked. "Who was the first?"
"A student named Tom Riddle. That was... decades ago."
Hearing the name, Harry leaped up. "Yi! Sister, are you speaking of that scoundrel, Voldemort?"
Ron and Hermione gasped.
"You-Know-Who... had a name?"
"Wait, he was a student here?"
Helena said softly, "Yes. A born Slytherin."
Harry spat. "Ptui! What ill luck! That thieving scoundrel who deserves a thousand cuts is best at using sweet words to fool people. Did he deceive you, sister?"
Hearing this, a flash of pain crossed Helena's eyes, but it vanished.
"Alright, little wizards. Let's talk of happier things. Like your plan to sneak into the Slytherin common room."
Hermione, glad to be back on topic, asked, "You're willing to tell us?"
"Why not?" Helena smiled. "But I prefer to do things the Ravenclaw way."
"Answer a riddle, and you shall have your reward."
Hermione was confident. "Please, ask, Lady Helena. I know all of our first and second-year material, and even some third-year."
A cunning glint appeared in Helena's eyes. "Then, listen closely."
"Who was I killed by?"
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