The moment Lewis touched the soul stone, a cool, distant voice sounded from nearby.
"Hello, Lewis Green."
He turned toward the source.
On a sofa in the common room sat a translucent, elegant figure.
She was breathtaking.
Tall and graceful, with flowing black hair cascading down her back. Her features were exquisitely refined, but what stood out most were her eyes—sharp, piercing, as if they could dissect all things. Beautiful, yet faintly intimidating.
Lewis recognized her instantly.
Rowena Ravenclaw.
She resembled the nearby bust almost perfectly, yet unlike the statue, her spirit bore no trace of age. Her presence was far more imposing.
"So," Rowena said softly, her voice almost like a poem drifting through the air, "a greedy raven has finally claimed my relic. A thousand years… have passed since I last awakened."
Lewis understood the implication.
"Ravenclaw" literally meant the claw of a raven—and metaphorically, a greedy seeker.
"My predecessors were… less than capable," Lewis replied with a slight bow. "And decades ago, your diadem was turned into a Horcrux. Your awakening was delayed until now."
His tone carried genuine respect.
For her power.
For her status as a founder.
And, admittedly—
For her presence.
"Since you've uncovered the diadem's secret," Rowena said, correcting him gently, "you may call me Headmistress… or Rowena… if you prefer."
"Of course, Rowena," Lewis answered immediately.
And he noticed—
A faint smile flickered in her eyes.
So despite her cold, distant appearance…
She wasn't as detached as she seemed.
Lewis quickly pieced it together.
Rowena Ravenclaw—
At her core—
Was an academic recluse.
Brilliant.
Independent.
Comfortable in solitude.
Yet—
Still longing for connection.
The clearest proof?
Her friendship with Helga Hufflepuff.
If Rowena was the archetypal introverted genius—
Then Helga was the warm, outgoing sun.
Relentlessly kind.
Impossible to ignore.
Exactly the kind of person who would drag a sleep-deprived researcher out of her tower and force her to rest.
Lewis could almost picture it.
And just like that—
He understood how to deal with her.
"I cannot maintain this form for long," Rowena continued. "A ghost is not my ideal state. I will appear as one only when necessary."
She looked directly at him.
"As the inheritor of my diadem, I ask you to continue my research. Find a way for spiritual beings to truly live in this world."
Her gaze was steady.
Searching.
"Of course, Rowena," Lewis said calmly. "Since I've accepted your crown, this responsibility is mine."
His confidence wasn't empty.
He already had a solution.
The moment he confirmed her soul still existed—
He had thought of one thing:
Heroic Spirits.
The three requirements—
Soul.
Legend.
Foundation.
Rowena had all of them.
Her soul was intact.
Her legend—undisputed.
As one of Hogwarts' founders, her name would endure as long as the school existed.
Few could rival her fame.
Only Merlin stood above her—
And he was in a league of his own.
If anyone qualified—
It was her.
The only missing piece—
Was the foundation.
Rowena nodded, satisfied.
"May my knowledge and my diadem aid you."
Then, after a pause—
"Take care of Helena… that too is your responsibility."
Her voice softened slightly.
"Farewell for now, my successor."
Her form began to fade.
"Wait, Rowena!"
Lewis stopped her.
"A year ago, I promised Helena I'd uncover the secret of this statue. Won't you see her before you go?"
"…Not yet."
She shook her head faintly.
"But we will meet again."
Her eyes met his.
"I trust you."
With that—
She vanished.
Moments later—
Another figure passed through the wall.
Helena Ravenclaw.
"Lewis Green!"
She greeted him quickly, then asked anxiously,
"Did you feel anything strange just now?"
Then—
She saw the diadem.
"Oh—my—"
Her eyes widened.
"You found it! You really found it!"
"And—it's complete… fully awakened… I haven't seen it like this in so long…"
Her emotions surged, overwhelming her.
It took a while before she calmed down.
Seeing Lewis's confusion, she explained.
The diadem—
Had two states.
Only when worn by Rowena herself—or her true successor—
Would it reveal its full power.
Otherwise—
It granted only minor enhancement.
"When I stole it… it didn't respond to me," Helena said, her voice trembling. "I thought… she didn't care about me."
"That's why I ran away… all the way to Albania."
"What happened after… you already know."
Tears filled her eyes.
"Lewis… thank you. Thank you for fixing my mistake."
"The fact that it awakened for you… proves you are her true successor."
"I was wrong about you… I'm sorry."
"It's alright," Lewis said gently, patting her shoulder—even though his hand passed through. "I don't mind."
"Thank you…" she whispered, wiping her tears.
Then she hesitated.
"Just now… I felt something familiar. Warm. Was that… the diadem?"
Lewis paused.
Then told her the truth.
About Rowena's soul.
Her plan.
Her possible return.
"So… my mother is still alive?"
Helena's voice trembled.
"And she can come back?"
"That's right," Lewis said. "The probability isn't low. If the research continues… immortality in a spiritual form is achievable."
"…I trust you."
Her expression lit up.
Then—
She bowed deeply.
"You're the most gifted of your generation. Her successor."
"No one is more likely to fulfill her wish than you."
"So…"
She straightened.
"I'm asking you. Please help her."
Before Lewis could respond, she added:
"I may only be a ghost… but if you do this, I swear—"
"I will serve you, and your descendants, forever."
For a ghost—
That was no small vow.
It was eternal.
Lewis fell silent for a moment.
A founder's soul.
A Heroic Spirit.
The benefits were obvious.
A divine figure to inspire others.
A powerful assistant.
A guardian spirit for his future tower.
A being capable of feats beyond human limits.
No matter how he looked at it—
It was worth it.
He nodded.
"…Alright."
"I accept."
Then he glanced toward where Rowena had vanished.
"You're right."
"We will meet again."
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