chapter 179 part 1
Chapter 176: Halloween Eve
The last day of October, Halloween Eve.
After brewing for a short time, rumors about the Diadem had spread like wildfire throughout the castle, fierce and unstoppable.
The sudden attack that day had been spun into countless versions circulating among the students. They brushed against the truth to varying degrees, but all were exaggerated—it seemed the students had poured all their considerable imagination into them.
Even as William walked through the corridors, he could hear passing students discussing the events of that day. They talked with great enthusiasm about the magical Diadem, about the attacked Filch, and about the Weasley Twins who had carried out this grand feat.
In the shadow of such topics, the incident of a second-year student taking down a classmate wasn't nearly as sensational—not to mention the subsequent apology in the common room, which made the story even less newsworthy.
'Unexpected. That child actually listened,' William thought as he walked. 'The remaining problems don't seem to be a big deal anymore.'
Compared to the unlucky Ginny Weasley, the three victims of the Diadem incident were not so severely harmed—although they lost many memories, their bodies did not suffer much damage. It was a silver lining in a dark cloud.
After Miss Granger's public apology in the common room, the victim who had suffered the most in this incident was Filch.
Amidst the various rumors, his image was greatly damaged. Those students dared to pin anything on the caretaker—things like being the weakest member of the school staff, being so scared he peed himself while hanging on the wall, and being so frightened he had continuous nightmares in the Hospital Wing. All in all, in those stories, the caretaker had no positive image whatsoever.
'Looks like that pair of twins is in for it. Just based on those stories, the number of toilets they have to scrub will surely double.'
The sound of discussion about that day's legendary tale reached his ears again, and William couldn't help but feel sorry for the caretaker. "You lot, halt! What House are you from? If I hear you spreading rumors in the corridor again, I'll deduct points from your House directly!"
Under William's intimidation, the happily chatting students stood obediently, accepted his criticism, and then scurried away dejectedly.
But it was useless, a temporary fix at best.
He couldn't deduct points either—not only was there no such rule in the school regulations, but if he were to deduct points for this, William would have to reduce the entire school's points to zero.
'Filch, no offense, but your popularity is even worse than Professor Snape's. At least Professor Snape has Slytherin to back him up. In your case, is there anyone who *doesn't* speak ill of you?'
As William was lost in thought, he arrived at the library.
'The Diadem...' he sighed, looking toward Madam Pince.
"Please, Madam Pince, are there any more descriptions of the Diadem that I asked you to find yesterday?"
"Aside from the ones you took yesterday, the rest of the more reliable books are here," Madam Pince said, pointing to a small stack of books beside her. "Professor William, it's an ancient artifact, after all. Nothing about it has been passed down through the years. Forget the Hogwarts Library; even if you went through the entire collection of every pure-blood family, you'd be hard-pressed to find more than a few related books, let alone one that describes the Diadem itself."
"One must still try," William replied with a smile, picking up the stack of books. "Even a hypothesis has value. A wizard's most precious wealth is the knowledge left by their predecessors, isn't it?"
"I can't argue with that, Professor." Madam Pince smiled. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be so hopelessly in love with this library."
---
On his way back to the office with the books, William saw Filch again. The irritable caretaker had clearly heard the rumors about himself from somewhere; he was like a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark.
"Slander, is it! You two, to my office!"
Filch threatened the students menacingly. The two unlucky kids, who hadn't watched their surroundings while talking, trembled like quails.
"Don't be so angry, Filch, it's not good for you," William said, passing by. "Handle it as you see fit, but those stories are meant to make you angry. If you get too upset, you'll be falling right into their trap."
"So, Professor William, are you speaking up for them?"
Filch stared at William like a goose protecting its food.
"Of course not," William said, taking one hand off his books in a gesture of innocence—he believed that if you're caught badmouthing someone, you should accept the punishment. "I'm just reminding you to take care of your health. You were only just discharged from the Hospital Wing."
"My health is fine! Good enough to catch a hundred more brats like them!"
Filch announced dubiously.
"That's good, then. By all means. In any case, they should be well aware they'll be missing the feast tonight."
William gestured with his hand and waved goodbye, showing no intention of discussing it further. Putting himself in Filch's shoes, he figured he would be even angrier, so Filch's attitude was understandable.
---
'Something's still not right.'
William threw down the book in his hands, his head aching fiercely. The results of the investigation into those who had used the Diadem were in, and just like with the previous experiment, there were no problems whatsoever.
He had witnessed it himself and had seen Professor Snape's memory review, confirming that everything was fine. And now, Professor Snape had reopened the investigation, and even Dumbledore might have been involved, yet they still found nothing.
'Even a curse should leave a trace. How could it be so magical as to leave nothing behind?'
'Moreover, for it to activate in three students simultaneously after a month is simply unbelievable. The Weasley Twins are already in their fourth year. If they were under control, why weren't there any clues found in Percy's memories?'
'This is definitely more than just a matter of magic. If even a curse can be misdirected, who could activate it so precisely and almost simultaneously? What is that Diadem hiding?'
Thinking of this, he even felt a bit resentful toward Helena Ravenclaw for giving him the Diadem. The lady hadn't even said more than a few words before simply continuing on her way, not even clarifying who the previous owner was. It was as nonsensical as she had been in life.
'In life? Right, the Bloody Baron!'
William suddenly remembered what Helena Ravenclaw had said: to tell the Baron he deserved it.
'I hope I can get some useful clues from the Baron. He was sent by Ravenclaw to bring back her daughter; maybe he knows something...'
'Right, I have an invitation to attend today! It's the perfect opportunity to find the Baron!'
The long-arranged itinerary surfaced in William's mind. He had agreed to attend this dinner a long time ago—hadn't he invited Ginny, too?
'Perfect, I'll take her with me.'
---
"Professor?"
Ginny cautiously asked the professor beside her. Although she had been allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, she still had no memory of Hogwarts.
"Ah, what is it, Ginny?"
William came back to his senses and responded to the little girl beside him.
Honestly, after his time in Azkaban, he felt he had become brave enough to face anything with ease upon arriving at Hogwarts.
Even encountering a ghost at Hogwarts didn't make him so much as furrow his brow.
Compared to damn Azkaban, even ghosts seemed friendly and endearing. Transparent, talking ghosts—aren't they ten thousand times more lovable than those gray-skins?
But today was different. Even with a living person beside him, he felt as if he were walking through an ice cavern.
Black, slender little candles flickered with a bluish light as they burned—candles like these filled the entire corridor. Their faint light barely illuminated their faces, instead casting a gloomy atmosphere that brought to mind classic horror films.
'It's not the atmosphere; it's genuinely cold.'
As he walked on, the chilling cold made William increasingly uncomfortable, but also more alert.
'Damn it, I forgot. It's a feast, a whole host of ghosts!'