Lewis's feat of creating a natural sanctuary and purifying the negative emotional energy earned unanimous admiration—not only from his two companions, but also from the four portraits.
Professor Rackham, the Divination teacher, had previously hinted that Lewis's Animagus form—a chimera composed of the symbolic creatures of the four houses—represented the virtues of all four Hogwarts houses.
If that had once been encouragement… now, in the mouths of the four professors, it became a firm conclusion.
Lewis had truly become a symbol of all four houses.
In simple terms, his willingness to face their challenge proved he possessed Gryffindor's courage, boldness, and bravery.
His self-created spells and sharp adaptability in battle reflected Ravenclaw's intelligence, wisdom, and ingenuity.
His refusal to be bound by the professors' warnings, choosing instead to press forward and lead his companions, showed Slytherin's ambition, cunning, and leadership.
And finally, his decision to risk himself to eliminate a massive hidden danger beneath Hogwarts, establishing the sanctuary despite the risks, embodied Hufflepuff's diligence, kindness, loyalty, honesty, and fairness.
In short—
They praised him so much that even Lewis felt a little embarrassed.
For a moment, he even wondered…
Had he really acted out of pure greatness?
Or was it all just for the sake of creating a Heroic Spirit for himself?
Of course, it wasn't hard to understand why the portraits were so generous with their praise.
The problem Lewis had solved—
Was enormous.
That mass of corrupted magic was the root cause behind the long disappearance of the Keeper lineage, as well as countless tragedies over the centuries.
And the four of them…
Were partly responsible.
They had trained Isidora Morganach, yet failed to guide her properly.
The resulting catastrophe—
Was, at least in part, their fault.
And now—
Lewis had erased their greatest burden.
Calling him a benefactor of the Keepers would not be an exaggeration.
And when someone is your benefactor—
Their requests are no longer optional.
Thus, the four portraits not only agreed to teach Lewis the full method of constructing ancient magic golems…
They also granted him unrestricted access to the Map Chamber and the cavern beneath it until the next Keeper appeared.
In other words—
Lewis had just gained another secret base within Hogwarts.
Now, all that remained between him and his own Heroic Spirit—
Was time.
Two years.
After the thrilling journey into ancient magic, life gradually returned to normal.
Classes resumed.
Schedules stabilized.
They continued earning points for their house, borrowing books from the Restricted Section, and attending Quidditch practice twice a week.
On weekends, they still ventured into the Forbidden Forest, visiting the unicorn Lare and the centaur druid Daisy.
Before long, late autumn arrived.
A strange cold current swept in from East Greenland, bringing an unnatural chill to Hogwarts.
Illness began spreading among students and professors alike.
Madam Pomfrey was overwhelmed.
Even Professor Snape—and Lewis—were dragged in to help brew potions.
According to Snape, most students brewed potions that "only ghouls would drink."
But if he had to pick one student whose work was barely acceptable—
"Lewis Green's potions," he said, "might be fit for Muggles and Squibs."
Lewis: …You're surprisingly kind today.
To combat the cold, they brewed a Pepperup Potion.
It worked instantly—
But left steam pouring out of one's ears for hours.
Lockhart, whose reputation had taken another hit, tried to "help" by offering bizarre remedies to Madam Pomfrey—things like disinfectant solutions.
He even declared, "No one understands colds better than I do!"
Shortly after—
He caught a cold himself.
Snape promptly gave him an extra-strength Pepperup Potion.
For the next few days, Lockhart's head looked like a steaming locomotive.
It was the first time Lewis found the old bat somewhat likable.
Meanwhile, the weather in Scotland grew worse.
Hogwarts seemed to plunge into an endless rainy season.
Rain hammered against the castle windows like bullets, day after day without stopping.
The Black Lake swelled.
The flowerbeds turned into mud.
Hagrid's pumpkins grew enormous—some as big as sheds.
He had planted them for Halloween decorations.
Soon, Halloween Eve arrived.
The scent of sweet pumpkin filled the castle.
Students eagerly prepared for the feast.
The Great Hall was decorated as usual—with live bats fluttering overhead.
Hagrid's giant pumpkins were carved into lanterns, and some were large enough to serve as miniature pumpkin houses.
Most striking—or terrifying—was the massive spiderweb hanging above the entrance, with a giant black spider perched upon it, occasionally twitching its hairy legs.
Steve quietly told Lewis that Dumbledore had invited a skeleton dance troupe to perform during the feast.
Lewis was speechless.
"What's so entertaining about a bunch of bones dancing?"
Dumbledore really did love flashy nonsense.
But then—
An idea struck him.
Among the eight schools of arcane magic he had mastered, he frequently used most of them in study and combat.
Except—
Necromancy.
Despite having a specialization in it, he rarely used those spells.
After all, necromancy dealt with death and the undead.
Using it casually would ruin his reputation.
As he and Steve discussed the skeleton dancers, they entered the Great Hall—
Just in time to see the Gryffindor trio talking to a ghost.
"Harry, don't forget—seven o'clock tonight, the dungeons. Don't be late."
Nearly Headless Nick reminded him before floating away.
As soon as he left, Harry groaned.
"I completely forgot about the Deathday Party…"
Some time ago, Harry had tracked mud into the castle and been punished by Filch. Thanks to Nick's help, he avoided serious trouble.
In return—
He had agreed to attend Nick's Deathday Party.
"Actually, Nick also asked the Grey Lady to invite me," Lewis said, barely suppressing a grin. "He even mentioned a performance by the Headless Hunt. But I turned it down."
Clearly—
Harry and Ron were the only two suckers who had fallen for it.
"Can I just not go?" Ron muttered. "I'll say I have a stomachache."
Harry nodded vigorously.
Why give up the feast in the Great Hall?
Why miss seeing Cho Chang?
That alone made the banquet worth it.
"You made a promise. You should keep it," Hermione said firmly.
"Easy for you to say—you're not going," Harry grumbled.
"I never agreed in the first place!" Hermione replied, grabbing Lewis's arm. "Right?"
There was no way she was skipping a warm, delicious Halloween feast—
To spend the evening in a cold dungeon with ghosts.
Just imagining it gave her a headache.
Watching their friend walk off toward the golden-lit hall with Lewis—
Harry and Ron felt even worse.
Before leaving, Lewis tossed each of them a piece of black bread.
"What's this?" Harry asked, staring at the rough loaf.
After getting used to Hogwarts' excellent food, he had one firm belief:
Black bread was inedible.
"Just take it," Lewis said with a mischievous grin. "You'll need it later."
The two fools had no idea—
Ghost feasts had no food for the living.
Ghosts, lacking taste, preferred extremely strong flavors.
Stinky tofu and durian were mild by comparison.
Their real favorites—
Were rotten, moldy, or burnt food.
The stronger the smell, the better.
"Oh, and when you get there," Lewis added casually, "see if Louis XVI is part of the Headless Hunt."
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