The library was quiet.
With many of Ravenclaw's students having already left school, there was hardly anyone around.
Looking across the room, aside from Madam Pince, Dawn was the only person present.
He wandered through the shelves of the Muggle Studies section before pulling out a book containing passages from the Bible and leaning against a shelf to read.
The yellowed pages rustled softly.
In Muggle religious tradition, the story of Jesus' resurrection was actually quite simple.
Jesus died at approximately three o'clock in the afternoon.
A wealthy man named Joseph claimed his body and, together with another disciple, wrapped the corpse in fine linen before burying it in a newly made tomb carved from solid rock.
A massive stone was placed across the entrance, and Roman soldiers were stationed there to guard it against grave robbers.
Then, according to Chapter 28 of the Gospel of Matthew, several women arrived at the tomb after the Sabbath carrying spices.
To their surprise, the stone had already been rolled away.
When they entered the tomb, they found no trace of Jesus' body.
Instead, they encountered an angel who informed them that Jesus had risen from the dead.
That was the entire story.
Dawn rubbed the rough paper thoughtfully.
He was wondering whether a ritual could have emerged from this story.
The answer was probably not.
No.
The answer was definitely yes.
After all, the number of Muggles who had heard this story throughout history was enormous.
Likewise, the number who believed it was equally immense.
In other words, the amount of collective consciousness gathered around this narrative was extraordinary.
For such a story to evolve into a ritual capable of manipulating natural magic would be entirely normal.
Dawn was convinced that some sort of ritual existed within the story.
The question was whether that ritual truly had anything to do with resurrection.
After all, among the collective consciousness of humanity, the belief that "the dead cannot return to life" was undoubtedly even stronger.
The failure of the Egyptian Pharaohs was proof enough.
But as soon as that thought surfaced, Dawn remembered that Voldemort hadn't truly died.
He existed in a state between life and death thanks to his Horcruxes.
Perhaps...
Under those circumstances, using a ritual based on Jesus' resurrection to restore himself to life became far more plausible.
Yes.
By now, Dawn had subconsciously concluded that Voldemort was preparing to perform the Ritual of the Resurrection of Jesus.
There was no particularly logical reason for the conclusion.
He simply trusted his intuition.
Especially after drinking Felix Felicis.
'But if Voldemort is changing direction like this...' Dawn suddenly thought. 'Doesn't that mean he no longer needs the Castle Consciousness?'
Almost immediately, he shook his head.
No.
Not necessarily.
Drawing conclusions before fully understanding the ritual would be reckless.
Perhaps the Castle Consciousness was still a required component.
Refocusing, Dawn returned to the book in his hands.
Again and again, he reread the story of Jesus' resurrection, attempting to extract the ritual hidden within it.
The first component seemed obvious.
Crucifixion.
Just as Jesus had been nailed to the cross, the student had been nailed to the hospital bed.
Although the student had only been pierced through the heart rather than crucified in the traditional sense, Dawn understood that rituals were built from essential symbols, not exact recreations.
But then what?
He painstakingly dissected every sentence of the story.
Was it the opening of the tomb? The disappearance of the body? The women bringing spices as offerings?
Or something else entirely?
His head began to ache.
There were simply too many possibilities.
Even with Felix Felicis guiding him, he couldn't identify the correct symbolic elements.
All he could do was guess.
Boom!
Suddenly, a peal of thunder jolted him from his thoughts.
Instinctively, he turned toward the window.
Beyond the corridor outside the library, violet lightning streaked across the sky. Dark clouds swallowed everything.
Moments later, heavy rain began pouring down, driven sideways by fierce winds.
It was raining.
Dawn watched water splatter against the glass, shattering into mist beneath the wind's assault.
Slowly, he exhaled.
His mood began to calm.
Ever since childhood, he'd loved weather like this.
It felt as though the entire world was being drowned, leaving only himself behind in perfect solitude.
After watching the storm for a while, he finally checked the clock.
Unable to determine the ritual's remaining elements for now, he set the problem aside.
Returning the book to its shelf, he prepared to attend his second class of the afternoon.
It was Herbology.
After descending the staircase near the Great Hall, Dawn cast a Water-Repelling Charm on himself.
Then he stepped onto the increasingly muddy ground and headed toward the distant greenhouses, barely visible through the rain.
Along the way, he happened to spot Ron sprawled in the mud.
Nearby stood Harry and Hermione, both looking frantic.
"Merlin's beard! Hermione, do something!" Ron cried miserably.
"I think I'm being strangled!"
His clothes had tightened around him like snakes, leaving him completely immobilized.
He could only thrash helplessly in the mud while coughing up dirty rainwater.
Hermione looked ready to tear her hair out. "Stop shouting! I'm trying to figure something out!"
She pointed her wand at Ron and tried spell after spell.
Nothing worked.
"Honestly, what did you cast on yourself?" she demanded. "Why is this so hard to undo?"
"A Water-Repelling Charm!"
Ron looked as though he was about to cry.
"You heard me cast it!"
His repaired wand—held together with tape—was still clutched in his hand.
Hermione shot him an exasperated glare. She looked as though she wanted to punch him.
"How many times has this happened this year, Ron?"
She practically shouted.
"Listen to me! You have to replace that stupid wand! I don't want to see you killed by one of your own spells!"
Ron pressed his lips together.
His rain-soaked face flushed red.
After a long pause, he muttered quietly:
"...I know..."
"Maybe we should carry him back to the Great Hall first?" Harry suggested helplessly. "At least it's dry there."
Hermione considered it.
Just as she was about to answer—
Splash. Splash. Splash.
Footsteps sounded through the rain.
All three looked up.
A familiar figure was approaching.
"Fred!"
While Harry and Hermione were still trying to determine which twin it was, Ron recognized him instantly.
"Perfect timing! Help me!"
"Hah. No thanks." Dawn rolled his eyes without hesitation. He really didn't like Ron.
"You can crawl all the way back to the Great Hall like a caterpillar."
Smacking his lips dismissively, he waved a hand and walked away without another word.
"Bloody hell, Fred!" Ron shouted furiously. "Next time, I'm not saying anything nice about you to Mum!"
But Dawn had already disappeared into the rain.
Fortunately, Fred and George were notorious for tormenting their younger brother. No one found the behavior suspicious.
After trying unsuccessfully for a while longer, Hermione finally gave up.
Together with Harry, she dragged Ron back toward the castle in search of someone who could help.
Meanwhile, the rain only intensified.
It hammered relentlessly against the earth.
By the time the trio reached the Great Hall—soaked in mud and promptly scolded by Filch—Dawn had already arrived at the greenhouse where his class was being held.
Because he'd left the library late, nearly everyone else had already gathered.
Standing at the back of the Gryffindor group, Dawn exchanged a few casual greetings.
George glanced back upon hearing his voice.
Then he snorted loudly.
Apparently, he was still annoyed that "Fred" had been deliberately avoiding him lately.
From his position at the rear, Dawn could see every student gathered ahead of him.
Thinking about resurrection, he specifically searched for Lee Jordan—currently possessed by Avery.
The boy was nowhere to be seen.
Had he left Hogwarts?
Dawn wasn't surprised.
After using Legilimency on Avery, he'd learned that the man was deeply concerned about his family.
Leaving at the first opportunity made perfect sense.
While his thoughts wandered, Professor Sprout began the lesson.
Judging from the materials laid out around the greenhouse, today's topic was Bubotuber Pus Collection.
However, prompted by the students' curiosity, she first produced the flower she'd used during the chaos in the Great Hall.
The same flower that had left dozens of students collapsed and helpless.
"This is the Drowsing Pod," Professor Sprout explained. "A magical plant primarily found in East Asia."
She held the flower up for everyone to see.
"It grows to roughly thirty centimeters in height, with spiral stems wrapped around themselves.
Before maturity, the entire plant is covered in silvery-blue fuzz.
When it blooms, the flowers resemble lily-of-the-valley blossoms.
The number of colors displayed depends on how well the plant has been cared for, ranging from six to nine distinct shades."
Before passing the flower around, Professor Sprout cast Bubble-Head Charms on all the students to block the scent.
Only then did she allow them to examine it.
Afterward, she continued her explanation.
"I suspect most of you witnessed its effects this morning.
The fragrance affects both witches and Muggles alike. It causes severe physical weakness.
If exposure continues long enough without assistance, the victim will eventually lose consciousness."
The students listened with fascination, poking curiously at the petals.
Professor Sprout immediately grew stern. "Children, do not underestimate this plant!"
She pointed emphatically at the flower.
"There have been numerous historical tragedies involving victims who fell unconscious and eventually starved to death because no one found them in time!"
A Gryffindor student raised his hand.
"Professor, can we keep one as a pet?"
"...Absolutely not!"
Professor Sprout slapped a hand against her forehead.
Apparently, her warning had gone completely unheard.
Taking the flower back, she steeled herself against the students' protests and finally began teaching the proper methods for harvesting Bubotuber pus.
___________
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