novelraw Chapter 24: The Grey Lady's Confession
Chapter 24: The Grey Lady's Confession
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Grey Lady's Confession
June—a sweltering summer day under a bright, clear sky. When the roses in the courtyard were in full bloom, Hogwarts welcomed exam season.
It seemed like ages ago that a pineapple had tap-danced across a desk during Professor Flitwick's exam.
Starting over, Draco's mindset changed daily.
He was no longer that foolish, silly little boy who was anxious about final exams, afraid that he would do poorly and embarrass his father.
In this life, how many important matters weighed on his mind, and how many lingering memories and shadows lurked in his head!
In comparison, the seemingly trivial matter of exams felt somewhat endearing.
Fortunately, the inner torment and life's suffering from his past life might not happen again in this one—as long as he got rid of that damned diadem.
He breathed a sigh of relief, and with a sense of calm reflection, he transformed the mouse into an antique and exquisite snuffbox in front of Professor McGonagall. Under Professor Snape's admiring gaze, he then concocted a perfect Forgetfulness Potion.
Finally, he used an Anti-Cheating quill to write in a flowing hand on Professor Binns's answer sheet that the wizard who'd invented the Self-Stirring Cauldron was Gaspard Shingleton—and exam season officially came to an end.
"You were right, Draco." Hermione walked with Draco to the sun-drenched grounds outside the castle and said, convinced, "The werewolf code of conduct and the process of the goblin rebellion of 1612 were indeed not tested."
"You actually remembered something I casually mentioned?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
Hermione Granger's incredible memory always amazed him.
"Of course." The sunlight shone on Hermione's face, adding a touch of rosy color to her complexion.
Hermione would never admit that she remembered every word he said.
Now they strolled leisurely through the grounds, down the sloping lawns, and came to the Black Lake, where they sat under the large beech tree where they often lingered.
Looking out over the lake from here, they could see the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan tickling the tentacles of a giant squid basking in the warm shallows.
The two watched in silence for a while, neither paying attention to the squid.
Now the dew of fear had long since evaporated under the blazing sun—it had vanished into clouds in the clear sky, free and pure. Darkness had nowhere to hide, and gloom had disappeared. Everything was radiant and full of life.
The light dispelled the terrifying connotations behind the words "Forbidden Forest," giving the girl the courage to talk about it.
"Harry's been very worried. You know, that day in the Forbidden Forest, his scar suddenly started hurting." Hermione's bluntness broke the silence.
Draco was also quite concerned about this matter.
In his past life, he'd thought that Potter was just trying to get attention by constantly complaining about the pain in his scar. But in this life, after observing Potter up close, he'd realized that Potter's expressions of pain were genuine, not like a boy trying to get attention and acting clumsily.
After a moment of contemplation, he said, "He did face him directly, didn't he? The last time they met wasn't very pleasant."
"Perhaps. Professor Dumbledore said it represents a warning. That the scar will remind Harry when he faces danger," Hermione pondered.
Draco noticed that her endearing, girlish liveliness had temporarily vanished, replaced by a thoughtful, solemn expression befitting Hermione Granger.
"That's right, Harry's signature lightning bolt-shaped 'alarm.'" He gave her a slightly teasing look, trying to dispel her serious expression.
"Oh, be serious, Draco. This is no joke." Hermione glared at him.
"Seriously, the worry is justified." Draco shrugged, looking at the dizzy giant squid—the Weasley twins were trying to tickle its tentacles.
He pondered for a moment and said, "Being Petrified does not mean being destroyed. If we do not treat him with care, one day the darkness may still return."
"Professor Dumbledore said something similar. Harry said that Professor Dumbledore placed Quirrell's body in a safe place. He won't undo the Petrification until he's figured out what's on the back of Quirrell's head," Hermione said cautiously, glancing around before leaning closer to him and whispering.
"Very good." Draco breathed a sigh of relief.
As long as the Dark Lord didn't come out to wreak havoc on humanity, anything was fine.
On this day, Draco's good fortune was not yet over.
When he reappeared before the Grey Lady, she did not leave but waited where she was, looking haughtily at the Slytherin boy approaching her.
Only when you got closer to the Grey Lady would you realize more clearly that beneath that floor-length cloak was a beautiful woman with waist-length hair.
Her striking appearance made her haughty personality seem natural, not unpleasant.
"Why can't you leave me alone?" she asked, puzzled, her beautiful face showing a weary expression of being overwhelmed.
"Please, I need your help." Draco adopted a respectful and upright posture, giving her a proper bow in an attempt to make a good impression. "I want to know everything about Ravenclaw's diadem."
The Grey Lady's eyes darted uncertainly over the elegant boy, a cold smile suddenly creeping onto her lips. "You're not the first person to covet the diadem."
Her expression returned to indifference, and she resolved to continue on her way. "I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Wait!" Draco saw her turn, trying to glide away from him smoothly, and finally abandoned his manners—perhaps he should learn from Hermione's directness instead of beating around the bush.
He knew that if he didn't seize this opportunity, who knew when she would be willing to talk to him again.
He cried out indignantly, "I know you hid it in the Albanian forest!"
She suddenly stopped but remained calm and continued to float leisurely in the air.
"How did you know—" She turned around and asked expressionlessly.
"I know this is your mother's diadem, Helena Ravenclaw! I know you took it with you when you fled to the Albanian forest..." Draco said calmly.
The Grey Lady's composed expression faded.
"I know where it is now. It's at Hogwarts, isn't it?" Draco asked in a Granger-like, persistent tone.
"How could you know..." The Grey Lady—no, at this point, perhaps it would be more accurate to call her Helena.
She stared at Draco in shock and asked sharply, "You want to find it... you want to wear it? You, a mere first-year? Trying to get top marks, is that it?"
"I have no interest in wearing it," Draco said softly.
"I know the Dark Lord deceived you. He betrayed your trust. I just want to know what the Dark Lord did to it. You must know something. Please tell me, unless you're on the Dark Lord's side..."
"Of course not—how dare you say that!" Helena retorted fiercely.
She looked down at Draco, a terrifying look flashing across her face—she was far from gentle at that moment.
As if she'd made up her mind, she said sharply, "How could I possibly side with him? He desecrated Ravenclaw's diadem with his Dark magic! He heard my story and stole it from that hollow tree in the Albanian forest!"
As expected, the Dark Lord took the diadem from the Albanian forest.
Draco closed his eyes and continued, "And how did it get back to Hogwarts?"
"A long time passed," the Grey Lady recalled softly, "and one day he came to Hogwarts seeking a job. He said he wanted to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... Dumbledore, of course, refused him! And so he left it here!"
"I can hear that diadem wailing day and night!" she said through gritted teeth.
"A wail?" Draco caught the word.
"Yes! He turned my mother's diadem into a Horcrux, and he put a filthy piece of his soul in it! My mother will never forgive me," Helena Ravenclaw said bitterly.
Horcrux. It was a Horcrux. Now it was finally confirmed.
Although he'd long suspected it and had his own theories, he still felt a chill run down his spine when he actually heard it from someone else.
The Dark Lord had actually committed the terrifying act of splitting his soul. Did he not know what the consequences of this act would be?
The rupture of the soul brought irreversible and permanent damage, which was considered the lowest form of depravity in the eyes of any pure-blood wizarding family.
This was the most absurd thing in the world. The Dark Lord had willingly fallen into depravity, pursuing what pure-blood wizards rejected, and those pure-blood wizards were completely unaware and blindly followed him.
The Malfoy family, in their past life, had been foolishly serving something whose soul was fractured.
Draco's face gradually paled, feeling a chill run through his body—a chill that cut to the bone—due to the final confirmation of the Horcrux and the Dark Lord's evil, madness, and folly.
The Grey Lady had no time to notice Draco's expression. Her years of anguish found an outlet in Draco's questioning. Those painful memories hidden deep within her poured out without ceasing:
"That diadem, that diadem... I wanted to be cleverer and more accomplished than my mother. I wanted to prove myself and make her acknowledge my abilities. I took it to a place my mother couldn't reach, and I wore it as I thirstily explored the limits of magic... I made a lot of progress! But the world never knew what I'd accomplished! And my poor mother, she never saw me before she died."
Whether Ravenclaw's diadem truly brought wisdom, Draco could not know.
What he was certain of was that through Helena's expression, he saw endless regret and sorrow.
"The Baron killed you, didn't he? So he wears shackles," Draco asked softly.
"Ha! Of course you know. The Baron deserved it." The Grey Lady laughed shrilly, like a violin with an ill-fitting bow, playing a mocking tune.
She gazed at the distant Astronomy Tower, murmuring, "I saw you talking to him there. You were both Slytherins—you had something in common. I never wanted to have anything to do with any more Slytherins. I could never understand your ambition, your obsession, your madness..."
"It's ridiculous that I still confided in Slytherins time and time again... Slytherin, you ruthless bastards, you deceived me, hurt me, and betrayed me!" she screamed hysterically, venting her anger at the dark night sky.
Suddenly, Draco understood why he'd been repeatedly rejected by the Grey Lady—she was particularly wary of silver and green.
If he'd been wearing a gold and scarlet tie, they probably would have started talking already.
Thinking of this, he couldn't help but give a bitter smile.
This damned, stubborn House prejudice was practically everywhere at Hogwarts! Even the ghosts weren't immune.
"I'm so sorry. Whether it's your death or your being used by the Dark Lord." He spoke nervously, carefully choosing his words, trying to soothe the Grey Lady's unstable emotions.
"Dark Lord? Ha! That self-aggrandizing title makes me want to retch!" the ghost said disdainfully. "Fifty years ago, he wasn't called the Dark Lord. He told me to call him Tom. Back then, he was just an ordinary student. Somewhat handsome, compassionate, and very understanding... I was wrong to trust him. Those cunning serpents of Slytherin always love to put on that charming facade to deceive people—"
The Grey Lady turned around, her eyes filled with venom as she coldly scrutinized Draco. "Tell me, how are you any different from him? How can I trust you?"
At that moment, probably no one would find her beautiful. Her face appeared unusually ferocious due to the expression of disgust and hatred.
"I don't want to use it. If I could, I would destroy that soul and wash away the shame on Ravenclaw's diadem. But I need your help. You need to tell me exactly what to do," Draco said with difficulty, still processing the shocking news.
Merlin, could he be murdered by a ghost? Draco groaned inwardly as he watched the Grey Lady's murderous expression.
After hearing his words, the Grey Lady stopped being angry. She suddenly calmed down, looked at the deep night outside Ravenclaw Tower, and remained silent.
Following her gaze, Draco could vaguely see the Astronomy Tower across the way, where the Bloody Baron stood in a daze once again.
"Do you know what you can see from here?" she asked impatiently, seeing Draco's puzzled expression. "Apart from the Astronomy Tower."
Draco glanced at her warily but did not answer.
He thought, "It's probably not about looking at the stars."
"I can see the Forbidden Forest. I know what you did that night—you were targeting him. But you were wrong, ignorant, shallow, and naive." She criticized his actions mercilessly. "His soul still exists, doesn't it?"
Draco had never expected that anyone other than Hermione would know this secret.
Since that was the case, he no longer concealed himself and said frankly, "That's right. I am dealing with him. Then perhaps you can tell me how to destroy his soul?"
"Unless you destroy the Horcruxes he created, you can't truly destroy his soul." She frowned, as if pondering some weighty question.
Her words were so loaded with information that Draco was momentarily at a loss for words.
Finally, he decided to ask the most crucial and important question.
"How do I destroy a Horcrux?" he asked, without much hope.
There was no response. The Grey Lady fell silent.
This did not surprise him.
He'd searched through so many Dark Arts books in the Restricted Section and found very few that mentioned "Horcruxes."
For example, in the book Secrets of the Darkest Art, although the term "Horcrux" was mentioned, it was only briefly referenced without any explanation of its nature, let alone how to destroy one.
How could you expect a ghost who'd been dead for a long time to know more?
After what seemed like an age, the Grey Lady spoke again.
To Draco's great surprise, she actually knew how to destroy Horcruxes.
"Destroying a Horcrux is difficult, extremely difficult. It must be done with something destructive enough—like a blade forged by goblins, such as Godric Gryffindor's sword. I'm not sure if it will work, it's an option worth trying, but it's been lost for a long time, like Ravenclaw's diadem. Or something equally powerful in Dark magic, like Fiendfyre with its cursed power, which can devour and burn everything, but it's too dangerous. I've never heard of anyone being able to control it, and its incantation is incomplete—I don't know if any ancient wizarding families still have it. And—" Helena's eyes became distant.
"What else?" Draco pressed.
"The ultimate monster in the magical world—the Basilisk. Its venom is so destructive that it cannot be healed by magic. There's a Basilisk of Salazar Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. I suppose it's probably still alive?" Helena said, barely managing to speak.
"The Chamber of Secrets? Where exactly is the Chamber of Secrets?" Draco recalled the Chamber of Secrets scandal that had caused a great uproar in his previous life—Hogwarts had almost been shut down because of it.
But at that time, he'd been too young to understand the profound meaning behind the Chamber.
Regarding the "Slytherin Chamber of Secrets," in most of his leisure time in his previous life, he'd either been smugly pleased with his pure-blood status, firmly believing that the misfortune of being Petrified wouldn't befall a Malfoy, or busy antagonizing Potter and the others, and occasionally going to scare the Muggle-born Hermione Granger and bicker with her...
In short, he hadn't done much of anything worthwhile.
He deeply regretted his past actions! He had too few clues in his memories of his past life. Draco had never focused on exploring the Chamber of Secrets itself. As for his father Lucius, he'd only told him some superficial knowledge about the Chamber, and when it came to the core issues, he was always vague or kept silent.
If the Grey Lady knew—Draco cast an expectant look at her.
"I don't know. I was away from Hogwarts for too long back then." A faint sadness appeared in the Grey Lady's eyes. She said regretfully, "When I came back, they'd renovated Hogwarts and it was no longer the way I remembered it. I'm sorry, I can't remember anymore."