Chapter 416: The Scroll of Wisdom

“A crown?”

Ravenclaw looked intrigued.

She turned back, seeing Helena’s face as red as a steam engine’s boiler.

“Mother…”

Helena was slightly angry.

“I don’t think so.”

The black cat replied.

“Green!

I should’ve been outside, right, Rowena?”

Helena grew even more flustered.

“Dear Helena, you got this one thing right.”

Ravenclaw’s lips curled with a faint, teasing smile.

She seemed to enjoy teasing Helena.

With a loud bang, the door opened and slammed shut as Helena stormed out.

The black cat gazed at the doorway, as if understanding something.

If Ravenclaw kept teasing Lady Helena like this, combined with Lady Helena’s inability to tell the difference…

“This should’ve made both of you laugh, shouldn’t it?”

The black cat finished, then used its tail to open the door and stepped out.

Ravenclaw’s smile slightly faltered.

After a moment, a soft sigh echoed in the room.

Outside, the garden bloomed with all kinds of flowers—purple, white, pink—blending into a dense sea of color.

Helena stood alone at the center of the flowers.

On a trellis wrapped in green vines, a black cat appeared atop a copper basin, then slowly walked onto Helena’s shoulder.

“Does love make one foolish?”

The black cat said.

“You should be inside, Green.”

Helena paused, then said.

The black cat said nothing, only curled up on Helena’s shoulder.

They watched the stream gather, the first snow melt, and strands of light fall upon the tips of grass sprouting from the soil.

Helena pressed her lips tightly, feeling perhaps a little weak.

She wanted to seek help from someone—especially when it was on her shoulder.

Not to ask for its gifts, but just to be like this: stay, don’t leave, don’t vanish—just be here with her.

In her long life, this had never happened before.

“Headmaster Dumbledore said this is the greatest magic.

It is so difficult that it often leads to suffering.”

The black cat said, its voice arriving with the twilight.

“Do you think I’m wrong?”

Helena said.

“I’m with you.”

The black cat thought for a moment, then said.

Helena remained silent for a long time, gazing blankly at the horizon painted with twilight, mist blurring the distant forest.

“You’re leaving, but you still don’t understand many things, Green.”

Helena said.

“I understand now.”

The black cat wore an expression of confidence—rare for it, as it usually believed itself lacking.

“Wisdom resides in a crown, not in books—isn’t that ridiculous?”

As a breeze blew, its form dissolved into the mist; Helena’s shoulder still held warmth.

“You’ve made a fine friend, dear Helena.”

Far away, Ravenclaw’s figure stepped through the dusk.

“You’ve found a worthy successor, Ravenclaw.”

Helena was still resentful.

“Alright, dear, you know—wisdom didn’t give me any advantage in love.”

Ravenclaw said,

“Let you know: once I defied my own reason, crossed moral boundaries, ignored the tragedies that occurred, abandoned my former convictions—all of it, I cast aside.

I did so in the past, and I must do so now. I tried to learn how to love you—will you come with me?”

…

Ravenclaw’s chamber.

The first rays of sunlight spilled across the sky-blue curtains; not far away, Wizard Sean Green awoke.

He first wrote in bold ink on his notebook:

【One hour seven minutes】

Then, filled with joy, he gazed toward the distance.

He knew he needn’t worry about the two Lady Ravenclaws, and that perhaps he had found Ravenclaw’s true wisdom.

As he said, wisdom isn’t in books, but in a symbolic crown—isn’t that ridiculous?

As for those books, he had seen some ancient tomes in Ravenclaw’s study; of course, more importantly, he had seen a far more special parchment.

Morning. The weather was clear, the sun bright, a pleasant breeze gently blowing.

Wizard Sean, wrapped in a scarf, walked along a corridor rarely trodden by wizards.

He always woke early, so when he reached the Hope Cottage, only the owl painting was awake.

But he needed to hurry—Hermione, Ron, and Jia Jia Siting would arrive soon.

“Mr. Owl, good morning.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Morning… come in! Clever little wizard.”

Mr. Owl was still chattering away.

“Can I make a request inside this room?”

Wizard Sean asked.

“Of course—only for you—but do you know what you truly need?”

Mr. Owl snorted, puffing out his chest.

“I’d like to see the parchment you’ve preserved.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Ah…”

Mr. Owl’s gold-rimmed spectacles slipped off; his face twisted with effort as he clutched the parchment tightly, stammering,

“This parchment—oh, this parchment—are you sure you want it? It’s old, worn out…”

He racked his brain, clearly reluctant to let Wizard Sean take it.

“Didn’t you say I could make a request?”

Wizard Sean asked.

“Clever little wizard! Of course you…”

Mr. Owl grew flustered.

“Alright, if you don’t want to.”

Wizard Sean whispered. He didn’t think his guess was wrong—only that Mr. Owl seemed distressed; perhaps he could wait a while.

“I do want to!”

Mr. Owl frantically pecked at the frame again.

“Do you know how long I’ve been with it? Twelve centuries! Good heavens! Twelve centuries!

Countless wizards have sought it—but all of them guessed wrong.

Even that fellow Tom was no exception—they chased after a gilded crown—it does have some power…

Now you’ve found it, you want to take it—I should be glad…

Lady Ravenclaw’s request is fulfilled…”

As Mr. Owl spoke, tears dripped down.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Owl.”

Wizard Sean felt this was cruel—forcing Mr. Owl to part with the parchment.

“You really want it?”

Mr. Owl asked again.

Wizard Sean nodded, somewhat bewildered.

"You have to pack it up with something!"

Mr. Owl said.

"What?"

Wizard Sean regarded Mr. Owl curiously; his large eyes wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and he was dressed in a proper suit.

Wizard Sean wondered: Could these gold-rimmed spectacles also be an alchemical artifact?

"That's right—it's—"

Mr. Owl drew out the word.

"Spectacles?"

Wizard Sean guessed.

"Me!"

Mr. Owl said.