"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 156: The Death from Fifty Years Ago
"That was thanks to everyone's efforts," Wyzett replied with a gentle smile. "Forgive me for being so forward, but I wanted to ask about the Chamber. Would you mind?"
"The result of everyone's efforts," the Grey Lady echoed, giving a slight nod. "The Chamber? Which chamber do you mean?"
"I'm referring to Salazar Slytherin's Chamber," Wyzett explained. "Just last night... Mr. Filch's cat was attacked, and there was a message scrawled on the wall."
"It read: 'The Chamber has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.' Everyone's speculating that it's the chamber left behind by Salazar Slytherin."
A flicker of emotion crossed the Grey Lady's face. "So it's happened again?"
Seeing her uncharacteristically unsettled, Wyzett couldn't help but press, "Grey Lady, do you believe the Chamber actually exists?"
Her composure returned, her voice growing cool once more. "No, I can't say for certain whether it exists."
"I see." Wyzett mused, then asked another question. "You seemed surprised earlier... Is it because something like this happened before? And did those attacks also claim to be the work of the 'Heir of the Chamber'?"
"How very perceptive." The Grey Lady's expression grew complicated. "With reasoning like that, it's no wonder you belong in Ravenclaw."
"It's true... About fifty years ago, the Chamber was opened once before. But the victim then wasn't a cat—it was a Ravenclaw."
"A Ravenclaw?" Wyzett's eyes widened. "But Mrs. Norris was only petrified, not killed."
"Perhaps it's just another Slytherin prank," the Grey Lady said with a note of disdain. "That's how the legend has survived all these years."
"Would you mind telling me the name of the Ravenclaw who died?" Wyzett asked quietly.
The Grey Lady seemed almost bored. "Myrtle Warren... She was nothing like you—always weeping and wailing. Dreadful when she was alive, and even worse now she's dead."
"Even worse after death?" Wyzett frowned, thinking of the ghost before him. "So... she became a ghost as well?"
"Indeed." The Grey Lady floated higher, her form shimmering. "If you wish to find her, look in the girls' bathroom on the second floor. She rarely leaves it."
Wyzett bowed deeply. "Thank you for sharing this with me."
The Grey Lady nodded, half her body already vanishing into the ceiling. "If you ever have questions about magic, you may come to me... You're far less tiresome to talk to than most."
"Thank you! I truly appreciate it," Wyzett called after her.
As he stood there, something about their conversation nagged at him—the Grey Lady had asked, "Which chamber do you mean?"
Suddenly curious, he called up to the ceiling, "Grey Lady, does that mean... Lady Rowena Ravenclaw also left behind a chamber?"
Only the hem of the Grey Lady's spectral skirt remained visible. She let out a soft, enigmatic laugh: "You may seek it if you wish. Only fools or thinkers... can ever find that place!"
"Only fools and thinkers can find it?" Wyzett quickly jotted the phrase in his notebook.
He didn't stop there, carefully summarizing his entire conversation with the Grey Lady and extracting every useful detail for his notes.
Wyzett hadn't even entered the hospital wing when he spotted a group of first-years peering around the corner—Colin among them.
He couldn't help but smile. "What are you all doing here?"
"It's the hero who bested Filch!" the students exclaimed, quickly making room for him.
"Are you here to see the cat too? Madam Pomfrey won't let us in. Want to wait with us?"
"Thanks, but I need to go inside," Wyzett replied with a smile, slipping past them into the hospital wing.
Behind him, the first-years whispered in awe, "He really is the hero who beat Filch—he dares to face Madam Pomfrey head-on!"
Wyzett couldn't help but chuckle, suddenly wondering what on earth Colin had told the others.
Inside, he found not only Madam Pomfrey, but also Dumbledore and Filch.
Dumbledore sat quietly to one side, watching as Filch massaged Mrs. Norris while popping a Cockroach Cluster into his mouth.
Madam Pomfrey stood nearby. Catching sight of Dumbledore with the sweets, she raised an eyebrow and said softly, "Albus, try to restrain yourself! That's your second bag already."
"Good afternoon, Madam Pomfrey, Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Filch!" Wyzett greeted them all as he approached.
"Good afternoon!" Dumbledore nodded, taking advantage of Madam Pomfrey's smile to sneak another Cockroach Cluster. "Poppy, Filch, could we have a moment of privacy?"
"G-good afternoon..." Filch stammered, nodding as he shuffled out, glancing back with every step. "Of course... no problem..."
"Good afternoon, Wyzett." As she left, Madam Pomfrey deftly confiscated the bag of Cockroach Clusters. "I'll return these to you this afternoon!"
Dumbledore shook his head with a rueful smile. "Ah well..."
He pulled up a chair and patted it. "Would you rather examine Mrs. Norris first, or shall I explain everything?"
"I'd like to take a look at her myself first," Wyzett said, stepping forward and drawing his wand.
He closed his eyes, letting his wand become an extension of his senses as he probed Mrs. Norris's condition—no physical contact, just careful magical examination.
"There's powerful Dark Magic at work here... a curse, I think... but there's something strange about it... a vicious, concentrated malice..."
Wyzett opened his eyes, brow furrowed. "Headmaster Dumbledore, although it appears to be petrification, something feels wrong. This malice is... unnatural."
"I'm sensitive to malice because of the Obscurus in me, but the malice on Mrs. Norris is nothing like that."
He raised his wand, tracing a smooth 'S' in the air. "Mundus Totalus!"
Under the effect of the Ancient Magic: Purification Charm, a cloud of deep black mist appeared, shot through with flickers of dark green lightning.
As the black mist manifested, Dumbledore's own brow furrowed. "This isn't just malice... It's pure, murderous intent."
He pointed his wand at the window, and within moments, a struggling salmon soared through the air and into the hospital wing.
Wyzett immediately flicked his wand, hurling the black mist at the fish.
The mist engulfed the salmon completely. Its struggles slowed, then ceased. Its scales faded to a lifeless gray—the fish was unmistakably dead... 🔥 Want to read the next 50+ chapters RIGHT NOW?
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