Luna was perceptive. Noticing Wayne and the Grey Lady entering one after another, she guessed something was amiss and asked proactively, "Should I go back first?"
"No need," Wayne shook his head. "Just keep an eye on the dormitory entrance for me. Knock anyone out if they come out."
"What if it's Cho?" Luna countered.
Wayne rolled his eyes. "Then knock me out."
After speaking, he glanced around. "Where's the notebook hidden?"
Luna made an "oh" sound and pulled out her wand, keeping watch on the spiral staircase.
Helena floated to the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, her gaze a complex mix of admiration and resentment.
"It's inside here."
Wayne walked over warily, his eyes shimmering with azure light. Under his X-ray spell, the statue's internal structure was laid bare—solid marble, without any hidden compartments or mechanisms.
"I only remember Mother placing the book inside the statue, but not the specific method," Helena's voice came through.
"Lawrence, consider this a test."
"If you lack even the basic qualification to retrieve it, then obtaining the notebook would be pointless anyway."
"This is what I call getting something for nothing," Wayne withdrew his gaze, displeased. "We agreed on a trade for the notebook, and now I have to fetch it myself?"
"Are you admitting you can't do it?" Helena stared at him.
"Whether I can do it is my business. Whether you can deliver your end is yours, Helena. This isn't what we agreed on."
Helena fell silent for a moment, her expression mournful. "I swear on the Ravenclaw name that my mother did place a notebook inside this statue."
"I'd give it to you directly if I could, but in my current state, I can't even touch physical objects. What else can I do?"
"If you're still dissatisfied... consider this matter never mentioned."
Wayne ignored her. He believed Helena was telling the truth.
In that case, this statue served a similar purpose to the Sorting Hat.
Staring at the oddly familiar statue, Wayne couldn't pinpoint where the sense of familiarity came from.
He turned to look at Luna, who was lost in thought.
No—not Luna.
The two gave him entirely different impressions—Luna was ethereal, present yet illusory.
The statue of Ravenclaw, though carved in stone, exuded an unmistakable scholarly aura, yet there was a faint dissonance.
As if... this dignified, elegant demeanour was merely a facade.
"Helena, what was your mother really like?" Wayne asked softly.
"Calm, wise, eccentric, noisy."
"You can't pin her down with a single concept because no one ever truly saw her clearly."
Helena's words were contradictory, leaving Wayne utterly perplexed. He closed his eyes.
The world faded into shades of grey. Like other inanimate objects, the statue emitted no trace of magical energy—even the residual Floo Powder in the fireplace was more vibrant than the statue.
But Wayne didn't give up. He continued observing with his magical power.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spotted the inconsistency.
The book cradled in Ravenclaw's right hand.
The entire statue was carved from a single block of marble, seamless and whole—yet that book seemed to have been inserted later, with a barely perceptible gap between it and the statue's palm.
"Dissendium," Wayne incanted the counter-charm for a sticking spell, and the stone book actually fell away.
Helena's eyes widened.
Wayne levitated the book into his hands, then reopened his eyes, waiting silently.
The stone tome gradually lost its colour, softening and lightening until it transformed into a notebook with a tan leather cover.
"That's the notebook!" Helena exclaimed excitedly. "My mother's journal—she was always scribbling in it!"
"A remarkably advanced Concealment Charm," Wayne murmured, his focus clearly diverging from Helena's.
The book had been enchanted with Transfiguration, yet he hadn't detected it at all. And... from Ravenclaw's era to now, over a thousand years had passed.
A Transfiguration spell enduring that long could truly be called eternal.
Luna's eyes widened too. She glanced at the statue, then at the book in Wayne's hands, and finally at the Grey Lady.
Was that a relic of Ravenclaw?
And the Grey Lady... was she Ravenclaw's daughter?
The sheer volume of information in a single night was overwhelming, making Luna's mind feel overloaded.
Wayne flipped through the thick notebook, finding it filled entirely with ancient runes and Latin.
Without scrutinising it further, he closed the book, intending to study it properly later.
He turned to Helena. "I've got the book. I'll keep my promise, of course."
"But whether there'll be any results... that's up to fate."
"I know," Helena nodded gently. "Just do your best. I'll wait for your news."
"No problem," Wayne agreed, then produced the Diadem.
At the sight of it, Helena's expression stiffened. "You're... returning it to me? Since you've obtained Mother's notes, you're effectively her successor. You have the right to keep the Diadem."
The Diadem was a significant part of her darkest history. If not for Ravenclaw, Helena would have preferred never laying eyes on it again.
"I'm not giving it back," Wayne sighed. "I just wanted to discuss something with you."
"Helena... did Ravenclaw often brew Felix Felicis?"
Helena froze for a moment before shaking her head. "Felix Felicis? No, Mother detested brewing potions above all else. She found it far too tedious and dull, let alone something as time-consuming as Liquid Luck."
"Is that so?" Wayne thought to himself, unsurprised.
His current usage method was likely incorrect, but the effects should be similar to Ravenclaw's intended approach.
Not significantly more powerful either.
Otherwise, her abilities would have far surpassed the other founders.
Wayne shared his discovery with Helena, who agreed after hearing his explanation.
"Only Salazar Slytherin was fond of potion-making back then, but Mother rarely requested such things. It was actually Lady Helga who frequently received potions from Slytherin for her herbology projects and the Forbidden Forest's cultivation."
Helena recounted numerous memories she still retained, which Wayne quietly noted. Finally, he asked, "You mentioned the gemstone isn't the original one, correct?"
"Indeed."
"Then the issue likely lies with the gemstone," Wayne speculated.
"Don't ask me," Helena shook her head vehemently. "I've never used the Diadem, and don't ever let that thing appear before me again. Just keep it safe."
"And remember to make that damned Riddle pay a thousand times over for defiling Mother's relic!"
After offering some perfunctory assurances, Wayne sent her away.
He beckoned to Luna, who approached.
"Anything you'd like to ask?" Wayne stroked her hair, now silky and lustrous compared to their first meeting – no longer dry and brittle.
That Potter shampoo truly worked wonders.
"Quite a lot," Luna admitted honestly.
"Then we'll talk tonight. We've plenty of time." Drawing the girl into his embrace, the spectral form of Ho-Oh flickered momentarily before both vanished.
...
By morning, the changes to Ravenclaw's statue couldn't escape notice.
At dawn, many young witches and wizards initially saw nothing amiss, yet sensed something different. When someone pointed out the missing book from Ravenclaw's hands, realisation dawned.
Then the entire eagle House erupted.
Stealing from the Founder herself?!
How could this stand?
Outraged young eagles immediately reported to Professor Flitwick. Even this mild-mannered man grew angry upon learning such an incident had occurred in their common room.
Chaos ensued as Ravenclaw Tower began self-investigations.
Most believed only they could access their common room, making the culprit one of their own.
Yet after searching every dormitory, not a single clue emerged.
Complete bewilderment overtook the house.
"Could an outsider have done it?" someone proposed.
"Impossible! No one could..." others reflexively countered, before remembering Granger's successful entry last year after answering the riddle.
Cho's heart skipped a beat.
A dreadful suspicion formed...
Who else but her particular someone would be both idle enough and capable of such a thing?
"Miss Granger couldn't possibly have done such a thing," squeaked Flitwick. "I'm going to find Professor Dumbledore now. Gentlemen, you needn't concern yourselves with this matter - off to class with you."
The young wizards had no choice but to nod in agreement.
...
Soon, news of the Ravenclaw common room theft spread like wildfire. During lessons, everyone was buzzing with speculation about who could have done it.
By noon, many students wolfed down their meals before rushing back to their house common rooms to check whether anything belonging to their founders was missing.
Seeing everything in order, students from the other houses heaved sighs of relief.
Wayne looked utterly bewildered. He hadn't expected Ravenclaw students to react so strongly.
And for the discrepancy to be discovered within just one morning.
After some thought, Wayne decided to 'confess' to Professor Flitwick.
Although the founder's daughter had consented to giving him the book, Professor Flitwick was still the current Head of House after all. He ought to explain the situation properly.
So after finishing Charms class that afternoon, Wayne deliberately stayed behind until last.
"Professor, I was the one who took the book from Ravenclaw's statue."
Upon hearing this, Professor Flitwick - who had been standing atop a stack of textbooks - wobbled unsteadily, nearly toppling over until Wayne quickly reached out to steady him.
The professor regained his footing before hopping down, tilting his head back to glare up at Wayne with wide eyes:
"Mr Lawrence, was it you?"
"That's correct, Professor," Wayne explained the whole story, hesitating for a moment before revealing the true identity of the Grey Lady.
However, he didn't mention their agreement, only stating that Helena had recognised his exceptional talent and striking appearance, immediately deeming him the most suitable heir to Rowena Ravenclaw, which was why she had entrusted him with this secret.
When it came to the Grey Lady's identity, Professor Flitwick showed no surprise—clearly, this open secret was already known to him.
Ravenclaw was never short of clever minds. Based on the Bloody Baron's behaviour, many had already guessed the truth, though they never voiced it.
After all, since Helena had chosen to go by the name Grey Lady, it meant she didn't wish to revisit that past. Pointing it out outright would only cause offence.
But when he heard that the book was actually Rowena Ravenclaw's notebook, Professor Flitwick became utterly exhilarated.
"Where is that book now, Lawrence? Could I take a look?"
Wayne produced the notebook he carried with him. Last night, he had been too preoccupied telling Luna stories and hadn't read it after returning.
Flitwick took it and quickly flipped through a few pages. Just from this cursory glance, he could confirm the truth of Wayne's words.
The reason was simple—the contents were abstruse and difficult to grasp, much of it concerning ancient magical theories that diverged sharply from modern systems. Moreover, it was profoundly advanced, with many passages even he couldn't comprehend.
Few besides Rowena Ravenclaw herself could have written such a thing.
A full five minutes passed before Professor Flitwick reluctantly returned the book to Wayne, his eyes still fixed longingly upon it.
Wayne smiled. "If you're interested, I can make a copy for you later."
Flitwick nearly fainted from joy. "That would be wonderful! Thank you, Mr Lawrence!"
"You're too kind," Wayne said modestly. "As for the matter of the theft..."
"I'll handle it, don't worry." Professor Flitwick patted Wayne's thigh approvingly and urged him to go eat.
...
That evening, Flitwick sought out Dumbledore, asking for his cooperation in covering up the disappearance of the book.
"What did you say? Rowena Ravenclaw's notebook?" Even Dumbledore was uncharacteristically flustered.
At his level, worldly and wizarding power and wealth no longer held importance.
Even treasures like the Deathly Hallows or the Philosopher's Stone meant little to Dumbledore.
But Rowena Ravenclaw's notebook was different—it was the masterpiece of a true magical master, something that might allow his own magic to advance further.
Every accomplished wizard was a seeker of truth, utterly unable to resist the lure of knowledge.
The portraits of former Ravenclaw Headmasters on the walls ceased pretending to be lifeless, urging Flitwick to recruit Wayne.
A Ravenclaw heir in Hufflepuff? What a disgrace!
Flitwick was certainly tempted—in fact, he'd had the idea long before.
But considering that doing so might mean waking up to Devil's Snare strangling him in his sleep, he ultimately abandoned the notion.
Dumbledore's eyes gleamed uncertainly. "The notebook is still in Wayne's possession?"
Flitwick nodded. "Indeed. I wanted you to find a way to let the theft quietly fade from attention."
"I understand, Filius. Tomorrow I'll say Peeves took it. No need to worry about him spilling the secret – the Bloody Baron will keep him in check."
Flitwick: "..."
Bloody hell, just casually dumping the entire blame on someone else.
No wonder he became Headmaster.
Can't argue with that.
...
After Flitwick left, Dumbledore paced back and forth in his office.
Rowena Ravenclaw's notes... he wanted to read them too...
But getting anything from Wayne would undoubtedly cost him dearly.
He'd already given away his most valuable possession. Nothing else he had could possibly tempt Wayne now. What to do?
Just as the old wizard was worrying himself sick...
Inside the suitcase's miniature world, Wayne was sprawled across his desk, writing to Damocles.
The final version of the Wolfsbane Potion was nearly complete. He needed not only Lupin as test subject, but also the old expert's advice.
Damocles had studied Werewolves for over a century – his input would be invaluable.