My partner at Hogwarts is Tom

The starry sky is boundless, silent as an eternal curtain.

However, against this profound backdrop, changes are quietly taking place.

Between the dark void beneath Victor and Dumbledore's feet and the vast starry sky above.

As if sketched by an invisible paintbrush, a bright moon slowly emerges, its color gradually deepening.

It doesn't hang in the sky, but seems to be embedded in this strange space, serene and perfect, radiating an ancient and soft silver glow.

The moonlight, like quicksilver, gathered before Victor, Dumbledore, and Tom.

The light intertwined and wove, like the most skillful weaver spinning thread in the starry sky, and a tall, elegant female silhouette quickly transformed from the ethereal to the real.

First came a long robe that seemed to be made of moonlight and starlight, with obscure star patterns flowing across it.

Then there was her long, dark hair, which cascaded down her back, part of which was tied up with a simple, seemingly living vine hairpin, while the rest flowed smoothly over her shoulders.

Finally, there is the appearance—not the image commonly seen in portraits, which carries the weight of time and a sense of mysterious distance.

Instead, she was even younger, her skin seemed to be bathed in moonlight, her eyes were closed, and her long eyelashes cast a faint shadow under her eyes. Her features were as exquisite as a classical sculpture, but she had an indescribable vivid charm that surpassed any sculpture.

It is a unique quality formed by the fusion of pure wisdom and extraordinary magic.

Just as her figure solidified completely, her closed eyes suddenly opened.

At first, his eyes were empty, as if reflecting the ancient galaxy, yet devoid of anything.

But when her cool gaze swept over the wary and astonished Victor and the shocked yet composed Dumbledore, the emptiness instantly vanished.

A bright and sharp light shone in her eyes, as if it could see through all illusions and point directly to the essence.

Within that radiance lies wisdom accumulated over a thousand years, and the legendary spirit of those who founded the academy and laid the foundation for magical education.

Rowena Ravenclaw.

Viktor's heart skipped a beat.

He had seen her portrait at Hogwarts and read descriptions of her in countless books.

But a portrait is still just a portrait, and a description is still just words.

The figure before me, formed from moonlight and the ancient magic of Hogwarts, possessed a presence far more intense and an aura of intelligence more oppressive than any static record.

She appears younger, more vibrant, and...more real than in the portrait.

It was as if a thousand years had not worn away her spirit, but had simply allowed her to settle into it in another form.

Ravenclaw's gaze swept quickly over the two people and the cat present, as if searching for something.

A fleeting hint of disappointment flashed across her sharp eyes—she didn't see the person she was expecting.

But this emotion vanished in an instant, so quickly it was almost an illusion. She nodded slightly to Victor, who was clearly shocked but forced to remain calm, and to Dumbledore, who was already bowing slightly in respect, the movement elegant and carrying an ancient sense of etiquette.

Immediately, her gaze, as if drawn by a magnet, fell upon the sapphire crown suspended within the crystal coffin, its sapphire already shattered.

Looking at the hideous crack in the center of the crown, she felt the filth and evil aura that remained within it, which was contrary to the essence of her creation.

Ravenclaw's eyebrows, like those of a meticulously drawn man, furrowed slightly.

That furrowed brow wasn't out of anger, but rather the displeasure and regret a master would feel when seeing his meticulously crafted work tarnished by clumsy and malicious methods.

She raised her hand, the movement casual and natural, as if she were merely brushing away dust from the air.

The lid of the crystal coffin slid open silently, and the exquisite but "dead" crown flew out lightly and landed in her fair palm.

The moment the crown fell into her hands, Victor, through his unique contractual connection with Hogwarts Castle, clearly felt an unimaginably vast torrent of magic being mobilized!

This magic doesn't come from Ravenclaw herself—or rather, it doesn't just come from her.

It seems to originate from every brick, every secret passage, every classroom, and every tower of Hogwarts Castle.

It is the vast, ocean-like magic power accumulated over thousands of years by countless young wizards learning, living, and casting spells, intertwined with the earth's veins!

At this moment, the dormant magic was awakened and gathered by the legend before them, and even faintly showed a pale golden form, like a real stream, in this star space!

These pale golden streams of magic, like living tentacles, gently yet firmly enveloped the crown in Ravenclaw's hands.

They don't rub against it roughly, but rather, like the most sophisticated purification instruments, they penetrate into every molecular structure and every magical loop of the crown.

"laugh……"

Strands of thick, tar-like black mist, carrying an aura of despair and curse, were forcibly extracted and peeled away from the depths of the crown.

As soon as these black wisps escaped, attempting to struggle or pollute their surroundings, they were instantly enveloped and annihilated by the pure and boundless pale golden magic, turning into nothingness.

At the same time, the broken sapphire at the center of the crown underwent a miraculous transformation under the influence of pure magic.

The edges of the crack seemed to come alive, beginning to wriggle, grow, and connect.

Fine, star-like threads of light spread and intertwine within the gemstone, filling in missing structures and awakening dormant spirituality.

In a matter of moments, the grotesque crack disappeared without a trace, and the sapphire was restored to its original state.

It was even clearer and deeper than before, as if it contained a small patch of tranquil night sky, radiating a gentle and wise light once again.

The entire crown was thus renewed, and the "extraordinary" feeling lost due to the destruction of the Horcrux not only returned, but also seemed to have gained a more restrained and profound charm that had been purified after experiencing vicissitudes.

Ravenclaw gazed at the crown in his hand, now restored to its original state, his fingertips lightly brushing against the cool metal and the warm gemstones, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

A moment later, she raised her head, her gaze falling on Dumbledore once more, her voice clear and calm, as if it had pierced through a thousand years of time.

"You are the current Headmaster of Hogwarts. How many years have passed?"

Dumbledore took a slight breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and answered clearly with absolute respect.

"Dear Madam Ravenclaw, I am Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, and it is now the year 1992."

"1992..." Ravenclaw repeated softly, a deep sorrow flashing uncontrollably in his eyes that held the wisdom of the stars.

The sorrow was so real that even the surrounding starlight seemed to dim for a moment.

She sighed softly, her voice so low it was almost inaudible, yet it echoed clearly against the backdrop of the silent starry sky.

"So... Helena still didn't choose to come back back then?"

Hearing this name, and the wistful yet vibrant mix of longing and anticipation hidden for a thousand years in Ravenclaw's voice, was truly moving.

A knowing glint flashed in Dumbledore's azure eyes behind his crescent-shaped spectacles.

He immediately stepped forward and spoke in a gentle yet firm tone.

"No, ma'am. Ms. Helena... she's back."

Ravenclaw looked up sharply at Dumbledore, the sadness in his eyes replaced by astonishment and a fleeting, cautious hope.

Dumbledore continued, his voice steady and reassuring.

"She returned to Hogwarts, as a ghost. For a thousand years, she has remained here as 'Madame Grey,' the ghost of Ravenclaw. As far as I know... she has been filled with remorse ever since."

Ravenclaw's figure seemed to tremble slightly.

She remained silent for a moment, her eyes, which could see through the fog of knowledge, now fixed on Dumbledore, as if judging the truth of his words, or as if digesting this sudden and shocking news.

Dumbledore met her gaze, his tone gentle yet firm: "Perhaps I may invite Lady Helena here?"

He used an inquiring tone, his eyes questioning.

Ravenclaw met his gaze, and her millennia of accumulated wisdom allowed her to quickly discern the sincerity in the powerful wizard's words.

The last trace of hesitation in her eyes dissipated, transforming into a complex expression that blended tension, anticipation, and maternal tenderness.

She nodded gently, the movement very light, yet it seemed as if she had used up all her strength.

Dumbledore said no more, and gently waved the Elder Wand in his hand.

"Protect the Gods."

Silvery-white light burst forth from the tip of the staff like flowing moonlight, quickly coalescing into a massive, elegant silver phoenix that exuded a reassuring and warm aura.

The Phoenix Guardian spread its radiant wings and emitted a silent yet soul-cleansing cry.

It circled Dumbledore and Ravenclaw once gracefully, then looked at Dumbledore with its intelligent silver eyes.

Dumbledore whispered something to it.

Silver Phoenix nodded knowingly, then transformed into a dazzling silver rainbow and disappeared into the boundless starry sky around it, which seemed to be made of Hogwarts magic.

Looking in the direction where the Patronus disappeared, Ravenclaw stood quietly, his gaze following the trajectory of the vanishing silver light, not looking away for a long time.

The moonlight around her seemed to soften, and beneath that ancient, legendary majesty, the most genuine expectations and anxieties of a mother were quietly revealed.

After Dumbledore summoned the Phoenix Patronus and watched it go to find someone, Ravenclaw's gaze returned to the greatest wizard of his time.

She quietly observed him—his wise yet slightly weary blue eyes, his signature crescent-shaped glasses, his long silver beard and hair, and the old magic wand in his hand that contained extraordinary power.

She could sense the profound yet gentle magic within the old man before her, and she could also feel his unwavering will to protect the castle and his students.

A hint of satisfaction flashed in her eyes, and the faint sorrow she felt because of her daughter seemed to have been somewhat diluted.

She gave Dumbledore her first clear smile since she appeared, a smile that seemed like moonlight piercing through a thousand years of dust, carrying approval and satisfaction.

"A thousand years have passed, and the world has changed, yet Hogwarts still has a powerful wizard like you serving as headmaster to protect this castle."

"With you here, I believe those young wizards can still grow up safely and happily under your protection, pursuing the mysteries of knowledge and magic. That's good."

This praise, coming from one of the founders of Hogwarts, carries immense weight.

It is not only an acknowledgment of Dumbledore's personal strength, but also an affirmation of his lifelong dedication to educating and protecting the younger generation.

Upon hearing this praise, Dumbledore showed no sign of pride; instead, his expression became even more humble and solemn.

He bowed slightly, his long, silvery-white hair fluttering as he spoke, his voice filled with sincerity and a sense of responsibility for bearing the weight of history.

"You flatter me, Madam Ravenclaw. The legacy and peace of Hogwarts have never been achieved by one person alone."

"It relies on the joint efforts of generations of teachers and students, on the magic of the castle itself, and even more on the wisdom and protection left by you and the other three founders."

"All I can do is follow the teachings of my predecessors, do my best to maintain this pure land, and give every child who steps into this place the opportunity to discover their potential and stay away from the storms of the outside world."

"Seeing them learn safely and happily here is the greatest comfort to me and all the guardians of Hogwarts."

Ravenclaw's eyes showed even greater satisfaction.

She nodded slightly, as if she saw in Dumbledore's answer the enduring spirit of Hogwarts, which she and her former companions had founded, continuing for a thousand years.

She didn't say anything more, her gaze returning to the direction where her daughter was about to arrive, and that tender maternal expectation resurfaced.

The wait wasn't long, but it felt stretched out in this atmosphere.

Finally, at the other end of the starry sky where the silver phoenix had disappeared, a milky white, slightly hazy figure was "drifting" toward them at an extraordinary ghostly speed.

The figure was slender and graceful, dressed in ancient wizard robes, with a cool and melancholic air. It was none other than the ghost of Ravenclaw, Lady Grey, Helena Ravenclaw.

Helena's arrival was clearly urgent; she didn't even notice the crystal coffin floating against the starry backdrop, nor did she immediately see Victor and Dumbledore.

Her entire being was captivated by that familiar yet otherworldly figure standing between the moonlight and the starry sky.

When her gaze was completely fixed on Ravenclaw, she stopped abruptly, hovering in the air, staring blankly. Her ghostly, translucent face was filled with extreme shock, disbelief, and a surge of filial piety and guilt that had not faded for millennia.

"Helena," Ravenclaw called softly, his voice no longer carrying its previous cool calm, but rather a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.

She reached out her hand, her movements incredibly gentle.

This call seemed to shatter a thousand-year-old layer of ice.

Helena's ghostly form trembled violently, and she let out an almost incoherent sob. Her milky-white figure lunged at Ravenclaw like a fledgling swallow returning to its nest.

Although as a ghost, she could not truly touch her mother's magically formed physical form.

But the moonlight and magic emanating from Ravenclaw gently embraced and surrounded her, forming a tangible aura of light that seemed to hug her.

Ravenclaw's illusory yet real hand gently stroked his daughter's ghostly hair, though he could not actually touch it.

But the tenderness and affection in those actions transcended the boundaries of life and death and time, remaining crystal clear.

"I'm back, Helena," she repeated, her voice soft and gentle, as if afraid of disturbing a fragile dream.

"Mother...Mother..." Helena finally cried out in anguish. A thousand years of loneliness, regret, and longing burst forth at this moment, turning into a silent sob and outpouring that seemed to shake the soul.

"I'm sorry... Mother... I was wrong... I stole the crown... I... I've always wanted to come back... I've always... missed you so much..."

Ravenclaw didn't say anything more reproachful, but gently stroked his daughter's "hair" again and again, drawing her "figure" closer in the moonlight, and whispering.

"I know... I know everything... I've never blamed you... It's good that you're back... It's good that you're back..."

The mother and daughter embracing each other, a moment that transcends a thousand years, the boundaries of life and death, separated by a mistake, and reunited by a miracle, carries a heart-stirring power.

It's not just about family ties; it's an epic tapestry woven from time, magic, regret, and forgiveness.

Viktor was deeply moved, and Tom in his arms was already incredibly touched.

It clung tightly to Viktor with its two front paws, its big eyes filled with tears that slid down its furry cheeks, and it made soft, sniffling whimpers.

The cat was completely immersed in this deeply moving atmosphere, wishing it could pounce on the cat and rub against it.

Victor and Dumbledore exchanged a knowing glance, both seeing the same sentiment and respect in each other's eyes.

They silently took a few steps back, leaving the most central and intimate space under the starry sky entirely to the mother and daughter who had just been reunited.

Their existence seems insignificant at this moment; they are merely witnesses to this reunion after a thousand years.

Ravenclaw, after gently embracing his weeping daughter for a moment, seemed to finally detach himself from the immense emotional turmoil.

She raised her eyes and glanced again at Dumbledore and Victor, who stood respectfully a short distance away.

And Tom, the cat in Victor's arms, whose face was wet from crying but whose big eyes were still looking over here with curiosity and emotion.

Finally, her gaze fell on the inconspicuous suitcase that Victor had been holding tightly in his hand, which had not left his side even during the sudden change in space.

Her gaze lingered on the suitcase for a moment, and in her eyes, which seemed to see through the mysteries of knowledge, a hint of understanding and... a very faint, almost admiring, interest seemed to flash.

Then, she raised her free hand, pointed her slender finger towards Viktor, and gently tapped the air with it.

A glimmer of silvery-white light emanated from her fingertips.

The light stretched and extended rapidly, appearing as if countless invisible shuttles were weaving and outlining in the void before Victor.

In the blink of an eye, strands of silvery-white threads appeared out of thin air. They were not physical objects, but rather light patterns composed of highly condensed magical knowledge and intention.

These light patterns weave, layer, and solidify at lightning speed.

A moment later, a silver-white gem, about the size of a thumbnail, with a perfect polyhedral cut, and seemingly with countless tiny starlight slowly flowing inside, displaying complex three-dimensional rune images, quietly floated in front of Viktor.

The gemstone exudes a pure and ancient aura of knowledge, subtly resonating with the magical energy of Hogwarts itself.

Ravenclaw's clear voice rang out, still calm, but less distant than before.

"These are some basic insights and design ideas on building magical spaces like the 'House of Requirement' that 'respond to the heart and weave reality.' You seem to have a talent and interest in spatial and contractual magic, so this might be of some use to you."

Viktor was taken aback at first, then an indescribable joy and shock welled up in his heart!

The Gem of Knowledge, personally gifted by Ravenclaw!

The original concept and magical principles of the Room of Requirement—one of the most magical spaces in Hogwarts!

This is simply a priceless treasure that all magic researchers dream of!

He suppressed his excitement and solemnly reached out his hands to carefully hold the floating silver-white gem.

The gemstone felt warm and smooth to the touch, not as a physical sensation, but as a condensation of pure magical knowledge, with information flowing directly into his senses through contact.

"I am deeply grateful, Madam Ravenclaw!" Victor bowed deeply, his voice filled with heartfelt respect and thanks.

Ravenclaw nodded slightly, acknowledging his gratitude.

Her gaze returned once more to her daughter Helena, who was still immersed in the emotions of their reunion, and her once cold and clear eyes now transformed into an unchanging tenderness.

The silent starry sky bears witness to the warmth of legend, and also to the new inheritance of knowledge and magic.

Seeing this, Tom sniffed and decided that from today onwards, in addition to being with his owner and having good food, he would also include "reuniting separated family members" as one of his greatest goals in life.