Hermione's hunger strike protest lasted only one night. The next day, she decided she needed to eat well to have the strength to fight for house-elf rights.
On the first day of the new school year, Ravenclaw's opening class was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.
Meeting them again after the summer break, Professor McGonagall required students to transform knitted blankets into living hedgehogs.
But as expected, even Ravenclaw's top students had declined significantly in Transfiguration after a summer of complete indulgence.
This led Professor McGonagall to assign countless homework assignments after class with obvious displeasure.
Also, as the penultimate year before O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations), the young wizards' coursework had obviously become much heavier and more demanding.
Here we observe a moment of silence for those ambitious young wizards who had selected all available courses.
Of course, Hogwarts' first through third years were taught all the fundamental knowledge once, fourth and fifth years were responsible for intensive review, and those who wanted to continue advanced study participated in sixth and seventh year coursework.
After Ancient Runes class ended, Aiden walked toward Ravenclaw Tower, meeting the trio returning from Care of Magical Creatures.
Hermione was tirelessly encouraging her two best friends to abandon Divination and join Arithmancy with her but was being firmly rejected.
"Oh, hi, Aiden," Ron said, seeing his brother as if meeting a savior.
"Aiden, good afternoon. You should also help me persuade them. Divination class really isn't worth taking. Join the Arithmancy family together," Hermione promoted with relentless enthusiasm.
As someone who had also chosen Divination class, the dragon stared awkwardly. "..."
"Ahem, you should know that Professor Trelawney is the great-granddaughter of a genuinely great seer. Although her teaching methods aren't excellent, she's someone who can truly make prophecies," Aiden deflected skillfully.
"So what?" Harry asked, looking at Aiden and waiting for the next part of his argument.
"So, if we can get a real prophecy from her class, wouldn't we profit enormously? And haven't you experienced this firsthand, Harry?" Aiden raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
"You experienced her prophecy? When did this happen?" Hermione looked at one of her friends in complete disbelief.
"Uh, last year, when Wormtail Peter escaped," Harry recalled the tense situation in the tower.
"So, you see this course still has great practical value." After some smooth talking, Aiden quickly escaped.
This left Hermione standing there wondering seriously if she should also rejoin Divination class.
In the afternoon, Ravenclaw experienced a brutal triple combination of Potions, Herbology, and Magical Theory. These three consecutive classes almost completely drained Ravenclaw's students.
Edmund said weakly, "We're going back to rest first. Don't worry about us for dinner."
"Same here," Ethan repeated with equal exhaustion.
"Are you guys alright? How weak..." Aiden mocked without sympathy.
"Yeah, you're fine, you're perfectly fine. We're leaving first," the two drained students said, supporting each other as they returned to Ravenclaw Tower.
Seeing the two depart, Aiden immediately set off for the Room of Requirement.
Walking back and forth three times in front of the troll tapestry, a sophisticated laboratory appeared before his eyes.
"Researching some new magic again, I see," a portrait on the wall suddenly spoke with familiar authority.
"Hm!" Aiden turned back in confusion. "Lady Rowena?!"
"What, is it so surprising that I'm here? Besides, the laboratory you desire in your heart isn't simple. Originally my portrait was placed here to prevent young wizards who might go astray," Lady Rowena explained with patient wisdom.
"Then do I count as a young wizard who's gone astray?" Aiden joked with nervous humor.
"Sigh, with that irreverent personality, are you really a Ravenclaw?"
The founder's personal assessment left the House 'spy' embarrassedly lowering his head.
"Alright, no more joking around. Tell me what you really want to research. The Room of Requirement classified your heart's desire as potentially dangerous, otherwise you wouldn't have encountered my portrait," Lady Rowena asked with serious concern.
"I've learned conventional magic pretty well. Now I want to explore the Dark Arts," Aiden said, his expression becoming solemn.
"Sigh, what ridiculous names you descendants came up with. You've turned perfectly respectable Soul Studies into something called 'Dark Arts.'"
The portrait sighed deeply, then continued speaking with obvious disappointment.
"Soul Studies? Did your era have different names for this discipline?" Aiden asked with growing curiosity.
"Yes. Magic to us was mysterious and boundless. Each generation had capable people who could open up entirely new fields of study. But gradually, through our predecessors' thorough exploration, the conventional safe areas were completely understood, leaving naturally only the more treacherous paths. And Soul Studies was discovered during this dangerous time. Wizards began deconstructing souls, touching minds directly, indirectly causing the appearance of that corrupted garbage lurking below."
The portrait passed on its accumulated knowledge unreservedly to the young wizard before it.
"The path of the mind also belongs to Soul Studies?" Aiden identified the key point.
"Of course, or rather, it's the relatively safe branch of Soul Studies, while what you classify as Dark Arts represents the more dangerous aspects of Soul Studies. This is also why I don't stop you from beginning your Dark Arts exploration, because you already have deep accumulation in the path of the mind. To take the next step forward, you must inevitably touch these forbidden things."
Listening to the ancient founder's teaching, Aiden displayed proper student behavior, taking out paper and quill to start recording everything.
"Researching to your current level, you should already understand that we wizards' minds have higher priority than our souls. As products of mental power, emotions and their combination with magical power directly affect our souls. The traditional path of the mind combines positive, active emotions with magical power, like love, hope, courage, protection... While 'Dark Arts' essentially combines negative emotions with magical power, like hatred, despair, fear, killing intent..."
"Lady Rowena, then what about the Deep Realm Kings?" Aiden asked, lowering the Bone Church's influence to shield the entire Room of Requirement.
"Actually, when the Silent Slates were originally created, there were originally fourteen pieces," the portrait's Lady Rowena said, narrowing her eyes as she began revealing ancient secrets.
"When wizards first explored the mind, using religion and various mystical means, they established fourteen binding agreements within the scope of all humanity."
"Agreements?" Aiden looked up sharply, stopping his careful recording.
"Fourteen agreements, also fourteen consensuses. Wizards held a massive ritual, burying these agreements deep inside the collective unconscious sea."
"Then accidents happened, right? Wizards' talent for courting death is truly excellent," Aiden shook his head with cynical resignation.
"Is it possible that we wizards are also human, just with different roles from Muggles?"
Lady Rowena delivered an unexpectedly progressive line, ignoring Aiden's reaction and continuing her historical narration.
"Because the research went far too deep, the collective unconscious sea became violently turbulent. Of the fourteen original agreements, six sank into the deepest depths of the collective unconscious sea, condensing all corresponding creatures' emotions to become the Deep Realm Kings. Wizards brought out the Silent Slates that could counter them, storing them separately around the world for safety, while two slates were ultimately lost to history."
"This is really..." Aiden wanted to sigh but didn't know what appropriate words to say.
So the room fell into thoughtful silence as the weight of ancient mistakes settled between them.