LightReader

Chapter 208 - HR Chapter 112 Deathly Hallows Part 1

You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395

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.

(To Be Continued…)

More Chapters