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The morning sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting dappled shadows on the stone corridor on the eighth floor of the Castle.
Edgar stood before the Gargoyle, clutching a crumpled piece of parchment in his hand, his face filled with suspicion and hesitation.
This list had been shoved into his hand by Lynn early that morning, with a long list of candy names scrawled in messy handwriting—all best-selling products from Honeydukes.
"Lynn said if I just read it out, the Gargoyle would step aside..." Edgar muttered, glancing at the list again. "Is this reliable? It's not another prank, is it?"
Taking a deep breath, Edgar began reading suspiciously.
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?"
The Gargoyle's eyes seemed to move, squinting at him, before it slowly turned its head to the other side, facing him with the back of its head.
"Not this one? Then... Blood Pops?"
The Gargoyle remained motionless, not even bothering to lift an eyelid.
"Still not it? Chocolate Frogs?"
There was still no reaction.
Sweat began to bead on Edgar's forehead. He steeled himself and continued reading:
"Fizzing Whizbees? Drooble's Best Blowing Gum? Pepper Imps? Ice Mice? Sugar Quills?"
After calling out more than a dozen names, the statue remained completely petrified, without even the slightest tremor.
The corridor was so quiet that the sound of distant portraits snoring could be heard. Edgar stared at the increasingly suspicious list, a surge of nameless anger rising within him.
"Fuck!" he cursed under his breath, crumpling the list into a ball.
"I knew it! That bastard Lynn is definitely playing me!"
Knowing Lynn, he might even be hiding in some corner right now, using a telescope to spy on his predicament.
"I'll try one last one, and if it doesn't work, I'm leaving!"
Edgar gnashed his teeth and smoothed out the paper ball.
"Cockroach... Cockroach Clusters?"
As soon as he finished speaking—
The Gargoyle suddenly came to life.
It rotated its body, its joints making a dull grinding sound, and the wall behind it rotated and parted, revealing a spiral stone staircase.
Edgar was dumbfounded.
"It... it really is this?" Edgar looked down at the list, then up at the Gargoyle that had already moved aside, unsure whether to admire Lynn's well-informed nature or complain about the Principal's inexplicable taste preferences.
Edgar stuffed the list back into his pocket, took a deep breath, and stepped onto the stairs.
Outside the Principal's office door.
Knock! Knock knock! The sound of knocking echoed.
A response soon came from inside:
"Come in."
Pushing the door open, what met his eyes were portraits of past Principals on the walls, some dozing, others looking curiously at the visitor. Slender-legged silver instruments puffed smoke in the corners, and Fawkes the Phoenix was preening his feathers on his perch.
Dumbledore sat behind his broad desk.
But to Edgar's surprise, the Principal was not currently reviewing documents or tasting sweets; instead, he was holding an object in both hands, his expression so focused it was almost solemn.
It was a Diadem.
With a silver base and inlaid with sapphires, its design was ancient, looking exactly the same as the one in his own hand.
Dumbledore was staring at it, his fingers lightly brushing the edge of the Diadem, his brow slightly furrowed as if in deep thought.
'Where on earth is the real Diadem...' the old Principal pondered.
The imitation before him was exquisitely crafted; even the traces of age and wear were perfectly mimicked, even carrying the unique texture of being eroded by the Dark Arts. For an ordinary person, it would be extremely difficult to distinguish the real from the fake.
But Dumbledore was no ordinary person, and more importantly... the Sorting Hat recognized it.
When he had brought this Diadem before the hat, the Sorting Hat didn't hesitate for even a second:
"Imposter! Ravenclaw's creation does not smell like this—it is tainted with the fishy stench of a snake and the aura of hypocrisy. Albus, where did you get such a clumsy imitation?"
Tom was indeed talented, even able to make the creation of a Horcrux look real, but... a fake is a fake after all.
Dumbledore returned from his reverie, only then remembering the student standing at the door.
He quickly placed the Diadem back on the desk, a gentle smile appearing on his face:
"Good morning, child. Have you encountered some difficulty?"
Edgar's fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of his robes:
"G-good morning, Principal. That... this... I..."
He stuttered incoherently for a long time, his face turning bright red.
Finally, he simply reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out an object carefully wrapped in soft cloth. He walked to the desk, placed the cloth bundle down, and carefully opened it—
Silver light flowed, and the sapphires were as clear as water.
The smile on Dumbledore's face froze.
The next second, this always composed legendary wizard suddenly stood up from his chair. He leaned over to stare at the two Diadems placed side by side on the desk—one real and one fake, one new and one old, one clear and one murky.
The old Principal realized he had lost his composure slightly, coughed lightly, and slowly sat back in his chair, but his gaze never left the genuine Diadem.
"Oh, child, don't be nervous." His voice was softer than usual.
"Sit down first. Would you like something? Lemon sherbet? Cockroach Clusters? Or hot cocoa?"
"C-cocoa is fine... thank you."
As soon as he finished speaking, the cocoa appeared on the desk.
Waiting until Edgar seemed less tense, Dumbledore spoke in a serious tone,
"Child, can you tell me—where and how did you obtain this Diadem?"
Edgar took a deep breath and began telling the story, from losing the Snitch during Quidditch training, to finding a replacement in the Room of Requirement, to casually taking the "decoration," and finally Lynn's actions last night. Of course, he omitted the specific details of the Dementor, the snake face, and that "painting," only saying that Lynn had transferred the Dark Arts from it.
When he heard, "It was right there in the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor; I just wanted to find a nice decoration to put at home," the eyes behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles blinked.
'...So it's been hidden right under my nose all these years.'
After Edgar finished speaking, Dumbledore's expression became serious.
"Child, I must ask a very important question—did you, or Lynn, ever wear this Diadem? Even for just a moment?"
Edgar was startled by Dumbledore's tone and quickly shook his head:
"No! Lynn said it absolutely must not be worn, saying it had Dark Arts on it. He even used the Levitation Charm to take it!"
Dumbledore's tense shoulders visibly relaxed, and a smile reappeared on his face.
"You have done very well, child. Exceptionally well." Dumbledore paused.
"Because of you and Lynn, Ravenclaw's Diadem has been recovered—one hundred points to Hufflepuff."
"Furthermore, you and Lynn will jointly receive the 'Special Award for Merit to Hogwarts.' This honor is not often bestowed, but you both truly deserve it."
The conversation that followed was much more relaxed.
Dumbledore asked about Edgar's classes, Quidditch training, and even chatted briefly about the new products at Honeydukes.
But Edgar remained restless—half because of the pressure of the Principal's office, and half because he wanted to hurry back and tell Lynn the good news.
Fifteen minutes later, the old Principal understandingly ended the conversation and personally escorted Edgar to the door.
The door closed behind him. Edgar let out a long sigh of relief and practically ran down the spiral staircase.
Silence returned to the office.
Dumbledore stood before the desk, his gaze moving between the two Diadems.
Crack.
A slight popping sound bloomed in the air.
The office was now empty.
At the same moment, on the shore of the Black Lake, the lake's surface reflected the towering silhouette of the Castle.
Dumbledore appeared out of thin air on the grass by the lake. He looked toward the other side of the lake, where a figure holding a fishing rod could be seen fishing.
He had learned his lesson this time; to prevent a few more strands of his beard from being plucked, he specifically chose a spot to Apparition that wouldn't startle Lynn's fishing rod out of his hands.