After dinner, Harry took Ron to the eighth floor.
In front of the painting of the Giant Troll Beating Foolish Banaba, Harry silently wished for the Phoenix Society's lounge.
"Hey, the door seems a bit different this time," Ron suddenly said.
Harry raised his head, and this time, what appeared on the wall was not the silver door representing the conference room, nor the brass door representing the Duel Room, but the bronze door representing the lounge.
"Come on," Harry patted Ron's back, "you know, this room can change according to your wishes, it should be a lounge."
Ron followed Harry into the Room of Requirement.
"Wow." He saw the distinctly decorated emblems of the four houses: "Decor from all four houses is here… Wait, why are there more chairs for Slytherin than the other three houses?"
Harry thought to himself, there are eight people in the Phoenix Society, and four are from Slytherin, how could there not be more tables and chairs?
Unless you expect one Hufflepuff or one Ravenclaw to occupy four chairs?
"Ha, Gryffindor is actually next to Slytherin, really…" Ron muttered again.
Harry shrugged, it was Villatia's request, she discovered the Room of Requirement, so naturally, she should design the layout.
For this reason, Cassandra had been giving Harry dirty looks for weeks because Villatia's seat was right next to Harry's.
After Ron complained, he plopped into the seat originally belonging to Gareth Weasley.
It made sense, considering Gareth was his great-grandfather.
"This really is a nice place, Harry." Ron stretched like a lazy cat on the chair, his fiery red hair looking fluffy: "I should say, we really should invite Hermione to take a look too—oh, we need to recruit Seamus and Neville, don't we? Hmm, I think we should move all the Slytherin chairs over here, since we're not planning on inviting any Slytherins, right?"
No sooner had Ron spoken than three chairs appeared for Gryffindor.
"That's so cool." Ron said excitedly, "I'll go over by the window—this view is much better than our Gryffindor tower."
"Hmm." Harry nodded, waiting for Ron to leave before sitting in Villatia's seat.
His thoughts flew, back to a hundred years ago.
"Harry?"
Villatia hugged Harry's arm.
"Huh? Ah…" He responded instinctively like a dazed goose.
"Come and look at the view with me, you know, our Slytherin common room is underground, usually, we don't get a view like this." Villatia said, pulling Harry toward the window.
"I must remind you, this is the Room of Requirement, the Phoenix Society's conference room," Cassandra's voice came coolly from behind, full of disdain: "It's winter now, not the springtime for Magical Creatures to breed, you two…"
Before she finished speaking, she saw Villatia turn her head.
Her lovely violet eyes curved like crescent moons, her thin lips stretching into a victor's smile.
"Tonight's moonlight is so beautiful," Villatia said.
"Tonight's moonlight is so beautiful," Harry murmured as he gazed out the window.
"Right?" Ron replied sporadically, "Look, we don't have such a view in our dormitory, being able to see the whole of Black Lake—look, Percy and Fred are fooling around, Lee Jordan's joined them… eh?"
"What's up?" Harry asked absent-mindedly.
"There's a notebook here." Ron bent down and picked up the notebook from the cabinet nearby, "It's got a letter tucked inside, Harry, it says C.C. Malfoy… is it an ancestor of the Malfoy family? I know Draco Malfoy's father is Lucius, his grandfather is Abraxas Malfoy, none of them have the initials C.C."
C.C. Malfoy?
Harry jumped up and rushed over to Ron.
"Where is it? Let me see!" He said impatiently.
"Oh, here." Ron handed the notebook and letter to Harry, hesitantly asking, "Harry, this is someone else's notebook and letter, isn't it wrong for us to just read it…?"
Harry glanced at him and turned back.
Ron shrugged, having little interest in the Malfoy ancestor with whom he preferred to keep his distance, instead watching his brothers roughhouse with interest.
C.C. was the abbreviation for Cassandra's name, full name Cassandra Cecilia Malfoy.
Returning to his seat, Harry first opened the letter.
[Grindelwald:
I'm sorry I rejected your proposal, even using a Time Converter to go forward a year incurs a great cost, let alone searching for Potter a hundred years later.
I hope your mind, full of pink bubbles of romance, thinks carefully about facing reality rather than foolishly pursuing a baseless hypothesis for a boy, abandoning family and brother.
Perhaps you are just like that Potter, arrogant, conceited… Whatever the case, I will not accept your proposal to find a boy unrelated to me.
——C.C. Malfoy]
Despite preparing himself mentally, Harry still felt somewhat disheartened.
Why does it hurt…
Cassandra is so annoying, always bossing him around pompously, humiliating him endlessly.
He thought he could accept this reality, yet seeing the letter, why does he feel disappointed?
Perhaps Cassandra is right, she has family, a father and brother who loves her dearly, Harry can't forget the proud, animated look on her face whenever Cassandra mentions "my daddy."
A child not loved by their father wouldn't always brag about him to others.
Just like Draco Malfoy, even if Harry dislikes that smug, bratty boy, he has to admit Draco has family who loves him.
Harry read the letter three times, eventually sighing heavily and folding it up, tucking it at the back of the notebook.
Then he opened the notebook, the cover signed with Cassandra's name.
It was Cassandra's notes on Magic Spells.
The notebook felt somewhat awkward, Harry couldn't pinpoint why exactly.
As he flipped through the notes, they seemed to begin in the first year.
Alternate applications of the Fluorescent Spell… Floating Spell's feasibility in pulling objects…
[Such a pity that Potter went to Gryffindor, thought I could make him my follower…]
[Looking at his green eyes, timid like a fawn, kinda cute, would be nice to have a little brother like him.]
Stunning Spell's technique exploration…
[Potter… lazy! Arrogant! Hopeless… How can someone like that survive in the Dark Wizard-heavy Magic World…]
[That Potter… actually asked for my worn cloak, really…]
Harry thought to himself, he meant it casually.
Continuing through the notebook, it remained filled with spell insights mixed with Cassandra's records about him.
Disarming Spell's practical skills… How to cast Thunder Explosion more quickly…
[Today, encountered a Dark Wizard with that annoying Potter in the Forbidden Forest, he was such a burden, clumsy, couldn't even use spells properly… Hope he realizes how weak he is and obediently follows behind me as a lackey.]
[Getting hit by a spell really hurts, but the pride of Pure Bloods won't stand idle as Dark Wizards torment Muggle Species.]
[That's right, just like that.]
Harry felt a bit of a sting in his nose, lifting his head to face the bright moonlight streaming onto his face.
The night wind blew through his hair, just like that night in the Forbidden Forest.