Chapter 46
Whether during his student days or after coming to Hogwarts, Lucian had never gone night-wandering, because in his student years, the school environment was still in a barbaric phase—students often came to blows, and the punishment for being out at night was extremely severe.
Young wizards caught by Filch were frequently hung up for an entire night and whipped by him.
Lucian had absolutely no desire to experience that and as a result, he had never viewed this castle—where he had lived for seven years—from such a perspective.
After completely shifting his mindset, everything he saw with his eyes changed accordingly; though this change wasn't necessarily a positive one, it did allow Lucian to experience something different.
The surging, steady magic that usually filled his body temporarily lost the precision he always sought at this moment. It grew quieter, more relaxed, docile yet abundant—like the still waters of a lake, rising and falling peacefully with his breath.
Lucian stood in the center of the third-floor corridor, quietly closing his eyes in the darkness.
Then, he felt it, it was the sound of the wind rustling the lawn outside the castle, accompanied by the intermittent hooting of night owls. Dust falling under the moonlight… Magical currents flowed quietly through the castle amid that descent.
And when he consciously began to sense and seek them out, his soul seemed to suddenly break free from some entrenched mold. His mind cleared dramatically.
An illusion even arose in his heart.
At this moment, all he needed was a gentle wave of his hand, and he could immediately command the magic around him, bending it to his will.
Not by guiding it with the magic within his body, but by directly controlling it.
Just this change alone was enough to advance his skill in Transfiguration further—once he mastered this power proficiently, no one would be able to transfigure any object near him unless their magical prowess surpassed his own.
The goal, then, was clear: when he could fully achieve this, it would mean his control over magic had reached the next level.
Just this alone made tonight worthwhile; it was at that moment that Lucian sensed two "foreign" magical presences invading the space, disrupting the sync.
He turned his head, but his sight revealed nothing. In the corner, a flash of pale blue skirt seemed to vanish.
A ghost?
Come to think of it, during his student days, there had always seemed to be a ghost quietly observing him. In the past, he would have ignored it completely—he wouldn't concern himself with things that couldn't affect him.
What harm could a ghost's spying do? It wouldn't impact him in the slightest; however, now… he felt a curiosity to explore it.
The thought arose naturally in his mind—neither particularly interested nor annoyed, just a natural emotion. Lucian lowered his gaze, aware of the shift in his outlook on life—yet for now, he couldn't quite distinguish these subtle feelings.
"Is that you, Grey Lady? If there's something you wish to say to me, now's your chance." Lucian's voice echoed through the empty castle.
There was no response.
"You don't wish to see me?" Uncertain what the ghost was thinking, Lucian shifted his gaze, glanced once more at the banister on the right side of the second-floor stairs, and continued upward.
Two minutes later, Lucian's figure vanished completely.
Helena Ravenclaw's form reemerged from the corner, about to stubbornly follow once more. But just then, two childlike figures suddenly appeared in her line of sight.
"Hey, wait a moment." Helena turned slowly, her face betraying no shame or timidity at being caught following someone—only a frost-like coldness.
Harry had no time to admire her beauty and spoke softly "You're following Professor Lucian too? We have the same goal—do you want to talk with us?"
"You are… the Boy Who Lived." Helena's brows furrowed slightly, her gaze falling on the invisible cloak draped over the two.
"The Deathly Hallows…" She murmured under her breath, then swiftly floated before them. "Follow me." Her words carried no emotion, yet they held an imperious tone of command.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, draped the cloak over themselves, and obediently followed. Helena led them through twists and turns until they reached a concealed passage. "Speak. What do you want to discuss with me?"
"You're following Professor Lucian—what are you planning?
"And what are you two doing by following him?" Helena ignored the query.
Faced with Helena answering a question with a question, Harry remained oblivious and answered honestly "We suspect he's connected to the legend of the Chamber."
He told her everything about the Chamber's secret without omission. The calm expression on her face gradually grew serious "Your suspicions are very likely correct."
"What!" Harry and Ron hadn't expected confirmation from a ghost and stared at her in shock.
"I've been watching Lucian since his student days—far longer than you, and I know his terrifying nature far better."
"His student days? But I've heard from others that the professor was completely unremarkable back then."
"Unremarkable? Heh, that's probably exactly what he wanted people to think." A mocking expression appeared on Helena's face, one that seemed particularly sharp. In her life, two things had caused her boundless regret.
The first was that, while alive, she wans't able to see her mother's face one last time—all because of that damned Bloody Baron!
The second was that, after death, she had been deceived by Tom Riddle and lost the heirloom her mother had left her—Ravenclaw's diadem.
Both matters haunted Helena to this day; thus, when she discovered yet another terrifying individual emerging from Slytherin, she became exceedingly vigilant!
This had little to do with the unfortunate young man himself—it was more a struggle with her past self; last time, she had been deceived by someone with ulterior motives.
This time, she would expose the lies of a second such person and that person was Lucian, who had always remained unremarkable throughout his school life.
"I've never seen a young wizard like him—not even in the past."
"What exactly did he do?" Seeing Helena pause mid-sentence, Ron couldn't help but urge her on.
Interrupted, Helena glared at him before continuing "Every morning at five o'clock he would get up, run for fifteen minutes, perform some exercises I couldn't understand, then go eat and attend classes. After classes, somehow he knew about the that strange room and spent the entire day there studying or practicing magic, interacting with no one, only leaving near lights-out. Aside from classes and meals, he devoted all his time to learning magic, yet I almost never saw him fight with other young wizards. For seven full years, he was exactly like this—never once changing." Helena paused here, waiting for their reaction.
"It sounds pretty normal—what's the problem?" Harry couldn't help asking—though he was also curious about the strange room she mentioned, the timing wasn't right, so he held back.
"Of course there's a problem, Harry!" Ron let out a strange yelp.
"Can you imagine living like that? Waking up at five every day for Quidditch practice, then going to classes, then studying magic after dinner—every single day, without a single day off. If I had to live like that, I'd rather die!"
"This silly boy is actually right!" Helena nodded, affirming Ron's words while ignoring his protest.
"In my lifetime, I've seen countless people of all kinds, but never a young wizard like him! What kind of willpower and ambition must it take to maintain that level? His behavior simply doesn't match that of a child! I even suspect that the soul inside his body might very well belong to some old wizard."
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