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Helena Ravenclaw and Ian vanished together in the Ravenclaw common room.
This was also the reason Ian dared to drink the Draught of Living Death; it was not just his soul that could enter the Twilight Realm, but his physical body as well, allowing him to carry various enchanted objects.
In the fireplace, the flames flickered gently, emitting a warm, soft crackling sound, the only noise in this serene space.
The young witches and wizards were sound asleep in their dormitories, and the Ravenclaw common room had returned to its usual quiet. Impossible miracles often unfold silently amidst the mundane.
At this moment, Professor Flitwick was in his quarters, meticulously studying the complexities of the Patronus Charm.
Driven by Ravenclaw’s insatiable curiosity and his duty as the Charms professor, he had sacrificed sleep to delve into Ian’s peculiar situation. Hogwarts might soon have another professor with dark circles under their eyes, all thanks to Ian.
Professor McGonagall was also awake; she had just stopped a group of Gryffindor students from attempting to modify the Levitation Charm and had sternly reprimanded the reckless lot who tried to summon a wild bull in the common room.
After ensuring the ringleaders reflected deeply on their actions, she turned around and summoned a wild bull in her own common room.
The commotion was something Professor McGonagall naturally sought to conceal, while the Head of Hufflepuff, Madam Pomona Sprout, was fast asleep with her students after being reluctantly dragged by Snape to check on Professor Quirrell, who was still burning the midnight oil.
Quirrell, for his part, was still attempting to secretly contact his master, and Snape, who had been shadowing him, was observing from a dark corner, silently documenting every one of Quirrell’s movements.
Even the times he absentmindedly scratched his nose were meticulously recorded; Snape needed to report all of this to the person who had tasked him with “keeping an eye” on Quirrell.
As for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he too was awake, poring over a stack of documents all night, scrutinizing the biographies and resumes of every Hogwarts staff member.
“There is actually a third… interloper,” He muttered, circling a few names on a piece of parchment.
The miracle brought about by Ian was hidden among these various trivialities of Hogwarts life, and only the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw silently bore witness to the moment he and Lady Helena disappeared.
However, it was not entirely unnoticed.
In the Headmaster’s office on the Seventh floor of the castle, Dumbledore, his hair slightly disheveled, was flipping through ancient tomes when he suddenly looked up, as if sensing something, and his expression shifted subtly.
The candlelight illuminated his face, and his somewhat untidy beard quivered gently.
“It seems that next year’s new students will miss the opportunity to meet a most learned and elegant lady,” Dumbledore murmured, his deep blue eyes glinting behind his half-moon spectacles.
Much like the candle on his desk that cast its glow across the entire office.
“What an extraordinary talent; we are likely witnessing the birth of both history and legend… don’t you think so, Fawkes?” He sighed softly, glancing at the Phoenix, who was preening its feathers nearby.
“Chirp chirp~!” Fawkes’s call was clear and bright.
It seemed to be an affirmation.
“Yes, being able to bring her in means I can bring her out, but I have long passed the age of recklessness. I must consider the potential consequences and temper my selfish desires,” Dumbledore said, pulling out the letter Ian had delivered, as though he could see the cherished photograph within through the envelope.
“There will always be a time to meet again, a time for reunion; for me, that day is not far off. But before that, I must fulfill my duties in this world.”
“Only then can I depart with a clear conscience and speak of my not-so-dreadful past,” He murmured, gently stroking the envelope in his hand, his voice a soft soliloquy.
The candlelight flickered.
Just like the eyes peering from the portrait frame.
“Albus, dear brother, if you become the headmaster of Hogwarts, can I attend school too?” Dumbledore seemed to hear a tender whisper from a century past.
He had certainly contemplated ending his life early to reunite, but the letter Ian had brought ultimately dispelled that notion.
He wanted to live well in the twilight of his years.
As she wished.
Just like this life after that fateful event.
Perhaps it was not the dream of teaching that bound Dumbledore’s ambition, but the unfulfilled longing for his younger sister that truly shackled him.
…
The sky was no longer blue and white but a swirling gray mist, occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning, accompanied by thunderous roars without a single raindrop falling.
In the distance, a few towering volcanoes could be vaguely seen, with rivers of magma flowing like molten gold, casting an eerie glow over the surrounding chaos.
The effect of the Draught of Living Death was quite remarkable.
Ian, who had collapsed into a deep slumber, felt his head sink, and when he awoke again, he found himself no longer in the Ravenclaw common room but in another realm alongside Helena Ravenclaw.
It was neither the brightness of day nor the darkness of night.
“The world of the departed…” Helena Ravenclaw looked around; her form had shifted from ethereal to solid, and she had regained many senses that had been stripped away when she became a ghost.
“This is not something Merlin could achieve, Ian.” Helena Ravenclaw raised her hand, incredulously examining her skin, which had regained its pale hue.
Before arriving at this moment, she had certainly imagined that Ian would use some ancient magic to send her to the afterlife, and she had speculated that he might wield some mysterious Alchemical Artifact capable of bridging the gap between the living and the dead.
However.
Even Helena Ravenclaw’s boldest guesses, which seemed a bit fanciful, had never considered that Ian’s method would be so extraordinary and bizarre!
A living person!
And he brought a ghost!
Just like that, he had crossed the boundary between life and death?
Such a scenario could never appear in even the most absurd biographical tales! It was not magic, not a ritual, but a power that Helena Ravenclaw could not comprehend!
“You are performing a miracle!”
Helena Ravenclaw’s emotions were incredibly complex, a whirlwind of excitement and anxiety, filled with shock and uncertainty. Her gaze toward Ian was entirely different from before.
“My Transfiguration professor once told me that wizards are akin to gods.” Ian wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke.
Having traversed to this world for more than ten years, he had never attempted to bring someone across the boundary of life and death. He hadn’t expected that such an act would exhaust him like casting a high-intensity spell.
Fortunately, he had ultimately succeeded.
However, some aspects exceeded his expectations, he did not arrive in a quaint village, nor in Professor Morgan’s castle, nor even on Lady Ravenclaw’s secluded island.
This was a completely unfamiliar landscape; he was sweating not from physical exertion but because the place he and Helena Ravenclaw had arrived at filled him with a sense of unease and heat.
Magma flowed like molten rivers, and volcanoes loomed like jagged peaks in the distance. Such an environment was bound to be sweltering; he and the spirits had entirely different sensitivities to temperature.
“Wizards are gods, and it can be understood this way…” Helena Ravenclaw did not feel the heat; she was merely perplexed by Ian’s response and explanation.
Throughout history, the phrase “wizards are gods” has always been proclaimed with great fervor.
However.
Any sensible wizard would recognize that it is merely a metaphor, a rhetorical flourish, a boast about the wonders of magic. No wizard would truly believe that wizards are gods.
Everyone simply elevates their own status a bit while marveling at the mysteries of magic. This has been the case for centuries, so how could someone who actually believes it suddenly appear!?
Oh, is it a ten-year-old wizard? That makes sense… but reasonable or not, how could you actually accomplish what only gods are said to do after believing it to be true!?
Is there any logic in that?
Magic is indeed extraordinary! But it certainly can’t be ‘that’ extraordinary!
“I know this is unusual, but wizards have developed these abilities over many years, and you should understand various magical bloodlines. The Dumbledore family, for instance, can even summon a Phoenix in their time of need.”
Ian felt increasingly uncomfortable under Helena Ravenclaw’s scrutinizing gaze, and his hurried explanations did not convince her; instead, they made her regard him with an even stranger expression.
“This is not about bloodlines, child.”
Helena Ravenclaw may not be as erudite or clever as her mother, but she was certainly well-informed, hailing from an era when magical research was even more frenzied than it is now.
“It is a power that wizards should not possess… This means you are undoubtedly favored by the gods of this realm.” Helena Ravenclaw gave Ian a slight bow as she spoke.
This was the most reasonable explanation she could conjure.
“Perhaps.” Ian nodded without refuting; he had indeed harbored doubts about this for some time.
How could he travel between the two realms? The mother of the lady before him had once suggested that he had settled here, perhaps because during the initial disorientation of his crossing, he had been trapped in the Twilight Zone without reincarnating.
The years had blurred, but his time here must not have been short.
It was not impossible that he had become a privileged “civil servant”; when reincarnating, he could have retained his memories and become a wizard, perhaps having taken a shortcut with the “higher powers.”
In the world of Harry Potter, there were indeed gods, and the house of the Hogwarts Divination professor had once served the Sun god.
Of course.
This could also be the boastings of ancient peoples. But since the Twilight Zone and the deeper underworld have always existed, such places must have overseers to function properly.
“I think now is not the time for us to ponder such questions. To be honest, I am a bit unsure how to take you to find your mother; this place is unlike anywhere I have been before.” Ian reached for his wand, only to realize he hadn’t brought it with him.
He could only raise his hand to repeatedly wipe the sweat from his brow.
It was unbearably hot.
The towering volcanoes resembled the wrathful eyes of ancient deities, occasionally spewing dark red and golden flames. The magma crawled sluggishly at the edge of the crater, as if the heart of Hell itself were beating restlessly.
Every eruption of magma was accompanied by a deafening roar and a searing heat wave, baking the space like a furnace.
“Places you’ve been before? Do you come here often?” Helena Ravenclaw did not seem concerned about being lost; instead, she seized upon a particularly alarming detail in Ian’s words.
“Since I was a child, I have been compelled to come here periodically; it is not something I can control. However, I have learned to embrace this peculiarity.” Ian looked helplessly at the distant volcanoes; he had no reason to hide anything from a ghost who had already stepped into the realm of the deceased.
“To be able to make such a crossing without paying any price…” Helena Ravenclaw’s eyes flickered, and her gaze toward Ian carried a hint of uncertainty.
This was entirely different from what she understood about divine favor. It should be noted that ritual magic and sacrificial magic were not originally the practices of ordinary wizards.
“This is the price, my lady!” Ian gestured to the large puddle of sweat on his hands. Fortunately, his enchanted money pouch had come through, allowing him to pull out a bag of salt and a bottle of lemonade to gulp down.
After several expansion charms, Ian’s money pouch had become a bottomless repository.
His goal this term was to make it capable of holding all of Hogwarts.
“The salt in your body isn’t something you can replenish like this…” Helena Ravenclaw couldn’t help but remind him, taking the salt and lemonade to prepare a bottle of saline solution for him.
“The ratio should be correct.”
She handed the saline solution to Ian.
Ian immediately performed his signature move of downing it in one go.
“Actually, sterile saline injected into the body would be more effective, but I haven’t dehydrated to that dangerous extent yet.” Ian was simply too lazy to prepare it himself.
“Of course, if I stay in this infernal place much longer, I think I won’t be far from collapsing from heatstroke.” Ian attempts to cast a freezing charm on himself to cool down.
However, after struggling for a long time, he still couldn’t produce a complete spell with his hands. Wandless magic was the most challenging feat for any wizard accustomed to wand guidance.
“What are you doing?” Helena Ravenclaw watched as Ian raised both hands, bubbles occasionally forming on one hand and ice shards on the other, while the young wizard’s face was etched with frustration.
“I was thinking that when I get back, maybe I should cut off all ten of my fingers, turn them into wands, and then reattach them.” Ian ultimately gave up with a helpless sigh.
“…”
Helena Ravenclaw had no idea how to respond to Ian’s words; she only felt that the young wizard before her was definitely underachieving in her current house.
This little fellow should go to Knockturn Alley for further study.
Tom Riddle turned his soul into a Horcrux, while Ian Prince wanted to turn all his fingers into wands. Indeed, the more handsome male wizards often seemed to be the harshest on themselves. Helena Ravenclaw, who once fancied herself a romantic, now felt a twinge of fear toward handsome male wizards.
“We need to hurry and leave this place that even a Kneazle wouldn’t linger in. If we can find a black sea, perhaps I can find a way back to the island where I first met your mother.” Ian pulled out a compass, which was utterly useless; the needle spun like a berserk Snitch.
Not only could it not find south, but it was even difficult to make the needle stop spinning.
“Indeed, this is what you and my mother agreed upon. No wonder you’ve been trying so hard to persuade me these past few days.” Helena Ravenclaw did not seem anxious at all.
She seemed to have pieced together many things.
Even the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw in Hogwarts made sense to Helena now, which was also why she was in no hurry.
“Hogwarts is crowded and noisy; I could only try to hint at you. Fortunately, you didn’t keep your mother waiting too long.” Ian began to walk away from the volcanoes.
Underfoot, it was no longer solid ground or soft grass but an endless road paved with obsidian, each step echoing with a low, mournful sound.
These stones were etched with strange patterns, occasionally flickering with ghostly blue or dark red light as if the fires of the underworld pulsed beneath the surface.
It was unbearably hot.
“Do you plan to walk out of here?” Helena Ravenclaw followed him, her cautious and nostalgic posture evident as she had not used her own feet to walk for a long time.
“I need to take you to find your mother.” Ian wasn’t just trying to escape the heat of the volcano; he was more worried that after his time was up, Helena Ravenclaw would be left alone here.
It would be dreadful if his good intentions turned into a disastrous outcome.
“Thank you, but I think we should stay here and wait; then everything will be fine.” Helena Ravenclaw hadn’t shed a single drop of sweat; she was surely a cold woman who didn’t understand the struggles of a hot man.
“Perhaps the ancestors of Ravenclaw will come to find you, but that’s something no one can be sure of. My understanding of this place isn’t much better than that of other wizards.”
Ian quickened his pace.
The surrounding mountains and land were desolate, with only dim stones and no plants or animals. This was undoubtedly a barren land that even souls would avoid, with not even the shadow of the smallest insect or plant. There was no human clamor nor the whispers of souls.
Only the suffocating echo of magma eruptions filled the air.
To avoid the atmosphere falling into silence, Ian sighed lightly and said to Helena Ravenclaw, “To be honest, I don’t even know why we ended up here. According to the theory my teacher told me, my desires would guide me to the corresponding realm of the Twilight Zone.”
“This theory seems obviously unreliable now; how could I possibly desire to come to such a hellish place?” As Ian spoke, he suddenly remembered something.
He quickly pulled out the golden box given to him by Grindelwald. “Tell me! Is it you two spectral things! Is it you who desire to live in this infernal place!”
Inside the golden box were Voldemort’s two Horcruxes: the Resurrection Stone ring and the locket of Slytherin.
Just as other wizards with obsessions could choose their resting places after death, the desires of these two lingering souls could indeed outweigh those of a young wizard; no one knew what criteria the Twilight Zone used for judgment.
In response to Ian’s questioning.
The two fragmented souls curled up in the depths of the Horcrux… They certainly wouldn’t respond; before being triggered, the souls existed in a state akin to wild beasts.
“You actually brought such things in!” Helena Ravenclaw exclaimed in disbelief, covering her mouth upon seeing the Horcrux in Ian’s hand.
“I just wanted to send Tom home; I didn’t expect him to aspire to be the Dark Lord Sauron. This must be his dream of Mordor; Tom must have read ‘The Lord of the Rings’ when he made the Horcrux!” Ian firmly believes that the suffering he was enduring was all because of Tom Riddle.
His complaints were indeed much more reasonable than “ignoring the facts.”
In this world, aside from the existence of wizards, many other aspects developed similarly to Ian’s original world, and ‘The Lord of the Rings’ was published between 1954 and 1955. It was not only famous in the Muggle world but also one of the rare stories in the wizarding world… a biographical tale based on historical adaptations.
There were many fictional elements.
However, it was certainly more substantial than Lockhart’s ‘”Me, the One Who Can Do Magic.”‘
“Perhaps we can just throw them into the volcano.” Helena Ravenclaw suddenly suggested, her voice carrying a subtle edge of gritted teeth.
It was clear that this lady was already restraining her emotions.
“This is the Resurrection Stone, my lady, and the locket of Slytherin. I just want to get Tom out of them and not destroy them in the process.” Ian was reluctant to part with the two ancient treasures.
“That man is such a despicable scoundrel! He tricked me into giving him my mother’s Diadem, and I didn’t expect that the Horcruxes he chose for himself would all be such renowned treasures!”
Helena Ravenclaw was also surprised; she recognized the locket of Slytherin but did not expect that the gem on the other ring was actually the more significant Resurrection Stone.
The Deathly Hallows!
A legend that wizards have pursued for centuries!
“Damnable wretch! How does he have such good fortune?” Helena Ravenclaw was furious with Voldemort and deeply resentful that he could obtain the Deathly Hallows.
“It doesn’t matter; his good fortune has come to an end.”
Ian shook the items in his hand vigorously, rousing the dormant souls within. He still tried to grab Voldemort’s fragmented soul with his bare hands but still couldn’t reach it.
“Perhaps you should pray to the master of this place?” Helena Ravenclaw, who lived in an era a thousand years ago, knew that wizards of that time were far more reverent toward the gods than modern wizards, and her hatred for Tom Riddle made her eager for him to receive divine punishment.
“Fool not belonging to this era, mysterious ruler of the gray mist, master of luck… grant me gold Galleons, and quickly help me catch the two Toms inside!” Ian’s mumbled “prayer” was clearly just nonsense, meant to lighten the mood; he had never learned how to pray.
Moreover, even if he could pray, who would he pray to that would be of any use?
“I think it would be better to ask your mother; she previously demonstrated how to catch Tom with her bare hands, yes, the one hidden in your mother’s Diadem.”
Ian’s words left Helena Ravenclaw utterly astonished.
However.
Before she could express her anger.
“If you had a thorough understanding of soul magic, you would find that what I am doing is not difficult at all.” Suddenly, a gentle voice sounded not far away.
A woman with long hair, dressed in plain robes, crossed the black sea and climbed over the high mountains, walking gracefully toward them. Her silver hair shone even more brightly in this dark place.
“Mother!”
Helena Ravenclaw exclaimed, her voice filled with complex emotions, a mix of anxiety and joy. She instinctively wanted to hide behind Ian.
However, Ian’s size and build were not enough to shield her, so this thousand-year-old ghost could only crouch behind him.
Feeling Rowena Ravenclaw’s gaze, Ian wisely stepped aside, and without any cover, Helena Ravenclaw, like a startled bird, dared not stand up.
She crouched there, looking up at Rowena Ravenclaw, who stood before her, more radiant and youthful than she remembered.
This perspective.
It was like looking up at her as a child.
“Mother… it’s you… You’ve always been here.” Tears moistened Helena’s eyes; how could she not understand why a soul would linger in the Twilight Zone?
“Helena, my child, of course, I must wait for you here. You are afraid even to walk alone at night; how could I rest easy letting you traverse the rest of the path by yourself?” Rowena’s voice was gentle yet filled with strength, as if it could penetrate all barriers and reach the depths of Helena’s heart.
She opened her arms to Helena, her smile warm and devoid of the sternness and reprimands Helena remembered, filled only with a softness and apology that seemed to dispel all worldly concerns.
“I’m sorry, Mother; I was too willful.” Helena rushed into her mother’s embrace.
At that moment, Helena’s heart was filled with a thousand words, a swirl of emotions, but in the end, she let go of her thousand-year-old stubbornness and pride with a trembling voice.
“I was too harsh on you in the past, which led to the misfortunes that followed. Books taught me how to raise children, but they did not teach me how to be a proper mother.” Rowena gently stroked Helena’s hair, relinquishing her own pride and candidly admitting her past mistakes.
“I know you only wanted what was best for me, but I was just too rebellious, wanting to…” Helena’s voice trembled as she clung tightly to her mother.
She felt as if she had turned back into a little girl.
“The past is but a wisp of smoke, my child; we stand at a new beginning.” Rowena interrupted Helena’s words, gently wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.
The two embraced tightly.
In this Twilight Zone, caught between life and death, fate had allowed them to reunite, finding inner peace and connection. The bond between mother and daughter would continue anew on this journey.
The scene was incredibly warm.
The image was also very beautiful.
If it weren’t for “bystander Ian” nearby, lying on a rock and continuously banging the Slytherin locket with a stone, trying to knock out the lingering soul of Tom inside, it would have been even more harmonious.
“Clang Clang Clang~”
The sound of knocking echoed in their ears.
Rowena Ravenclaw turned her head helplessly toward Ian. “Little one, doing that won’t help; it cannot separate the soul from the Horcrux.”
Both mother and daughter now looked at Ian, who was sprawled on the stone.
“Dumbledore actually told me this before, but right now, I’m just torturing the Tom inside.” Ian struck the Slytherin Horcrux again.
“…”
“…”
The two generations of Ravenclaws exchanged glances, both feeling that Ian might have been misplaced in his house, an indescribable emotion washing over them.
“It’s all this bloke’s fault for bringing us to this hellish place! Lady Ravenclaw, look at me. My skin is getting darker; in your time, I would definitely have been at risk of being sent to the cotton fields.” Ian complained, his tone filled with indignation. He had already drunk several cups of saline solution.
“When we were alive, there were no black slave cotton plantations.” Helena Ravenclaw couldn’t help but remind him, feeling that the little wizard showed no signs of getting darker.
“But there were still black slaves.” Rowena Ravenclaw added seriously, stepping forward to take the locket and Resurrection Stone ring from Ian’s hands.
She could see that Ian’s incessant chatter was aimed at something; this little fellow’s thoughts were still as easy to guess as before.
Then, in Ian’s earnest gaze, Rowena Ravenclaw reached out her hand again, pulling out a dark, twisted substance from each of the two treasures.
They were filled with various negative emotions, constantly writhing and attempting to escape. However, in Rowena Ravenclaw’s hands, they could only be squeezed together into a large mass of dark sludge.
“Lowly insects! You wretched creatures! How dare you offend the great Dark Lord! I will tear your entire family to shreds!”
“No one can stop my return! You may find one… two of me! But there are many more of me in this world! I have laid the foundation for eternal life and undying existence!”
Just like the last time Ian encountered Voldemort’s lingering soul, this time, the combined souls seemed to possess a higher level of awareness, but still carried a frenzied sense of insanity.
It was howling and roaring, and its sharp, piercing curses were like claws scraping against a blackboard.
“Shut up!”
Helena angrily scolded Voldemort’s lingering soul. Ian glanced at Rowena Ravenclaw, who did not seem inclined to hand Voldemort’s lingering soul over to him this time.
“I think this will bring you both peace.” Rowena Ravenclaw directly threw the combined, lingering souls into the nearby seething magma.
“Gū lū gū lū~”
It sounded like the bubbling of potions.
“No! What is this place? My magic! Why has my magic disappeared?”
Voldemort’s lingering soul struggled to emerge from the magma, but the Dark Lord, who had once instigated bloodshed in the wizarding world, now appeared particularly small and helpless in this boundless hellfire.
There was no escape!
The once invincible dark power had now been stripped away, leaving only a faint consciousness intertwined with unwillingness and fear, struggling for survival in this endless molten fire. The lava seemed to sense the presence of this lingering soul, surging more violently, with tongues of fire wrapping around this weak soul like greedy tentacles.
“Ahhh ahhh!!”
“It shouldn’t be like this! It shouldn’t be like this!!” Voldemort’s lingering soul let out a silent wail of extreme pain, a scream that transcended mortal suffering, filled with despair and lament from the depths of the soul, echoing in this closed hell, unheard and with no escape.
It could only despairingly feel itself being slowly consumed by the magma until its last hand was completely swallowed, and the magma didn’t even emit a wisp of black smoke.
Its existence, along with its ambitions and evil, was completely burned away by the lava of hell, turning into nothingness.
Only a sea of seething, fiery magma remained.
Continuing its eternal boiling.
“Ugh! My treasures! They are truly useful treasures!” Ian had originally hoped to burn the two lingering souls of Voldemort to increase his magical power limit, but he didn’t expect Rowena Ravenclaw to deny him that opportunity.
Who would dare to stop a mother from avenging her daughter by burning the ghostly fire of a man?
Ian now regretted telling Rowena Ravenclaw that Voldemort was a scoundrel who had wronged Helena during their first meeting.
“The already rotten, lingering soul has no value, even in the realm of alchemy; it would only become pus.” Rowena Ravenclaw clearly did not understand Ian’s extraordinary traits; she simply watched as Voldemort’s lingering soul was burned to ashes, then turned to Ian with a smile.
“This is your treasure, little one.”
Rowena Ravenclaw raised the object she was holding.
“You were brought here not because of that ridiculous Dark Lord of yours; he doesn’t have that ability. It is this thing you brought that has led you and my child to this…”
In her hand, the Resurrection Stone ring shone with a deep luster.
“The place where it was truly manufactured.”
(End Of This Chapter)
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