"Not bad..."
The cold voice spoke again, cutting through Kyle's rising panic. "Your Occlumency has improved greatly since the last time we met. That is why you were able to regain control so quickly."
Kyle exhaled deeply, the voice steadying his thoughts. At that moment, he realized he had emerged from that overwhelming state of omniscience without actually removing Ravenclaw's Diadem. The clarity he regained was undoubtedly due to her intervention.
"Madam Ravenclaw?" Kyle asked cautiously.
"It is I."
Though he had suspected this, hearing the confirmation left him momentarily stunned. It felt unreal, Rowena Ravenclaw herself was speaking to him.
"How is this possible..." Kyle muttered. Then, catching himself, he quickly added, "I mean, it's been over a thousand years, and there's no Time-Turner here."
"Salazar's Time-Turner is merely a tool," Ravenclaw explained patiently. "Once it is known that you exist, time ceases to be an absolute barrier... which is why Godric warned you not to tamper with the Time-Turner."
"But..." Kyle hesitated, still trying to make sense of it all. "Didn't Mr. Slytherin promise to help me deal with the effects of time?"
"That's correct," Ravenclaw acknowledged. "Salazar carved a Forgetfulness Charm into the chamber. Its purpose was to ensure that once we left, we would forget our encounter with a student from a thousand years in the future."
"However..." She paused momentarily before continuing, "this charm does not affect the Diadem. When I later realized I had forgotten something, the Diadem allowed me to recover that portion of my memory."
Kyle nodded slowly. After witnessing the Diadem's abilities firsthand, he didn't doubt her words.
"But sealing away the memory was a decision we four made together," Ravenclaw added. "To avoid unintended consequences, I locked this knowledge within the Diadem itself."
"So... you now know everything that's happened over the past thousand years?" Kyle asked, still struggling to comprehend the full scope of the situation.
"If you mean the fact that the Diadem was turned into a Horcrux... no."
Ravenclaw's voice remained calm, her tone as still and frigid as a frozen lake. It carried no trace of the anger Kyle had seen in Helena when she learned about the Horcrux.
"Aren't you angry?" Kyle asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"I anticipated it, and I already know it. Why should I feel anger?"
Kyle blinked, surprised by her composure.
"When I first mentioned the Diadem during our initial meeting," Ravenclaw explained, "your expression changed. In that moment, I realized that my Diadem had likely been made into a Horcrux. I also deduced the same fate befell the objects representing Salazar and Helga."
"And Mr. Gryffindor?" Kyle ventured.
"You didn't look at him." Ravenclaw's voice carried a faint note of amusement. "When I mentioned the Diadem, your eyes instinctively glanced at the three of us, but you pointedly ignored Godric."
Kyle's mouth twitched. Was she serious? Could she really deduce all that just from a glance?
He remembered their encounter vividly: Ravenclaw had been the last to speak, and barely a second or two had passed before the vision faded.
How could anyone analyze so much in such a short time? Kyle thought incredulously. She couldn't possibly have some sort of mind-reading magic... could she?
...
Kyle continued to ask questions, and Rowena Ravenclaw responded with remarkable patience, as though she were a professor addressing her student's curiosities.
Eventually, the conversation turned to the reason for her appearance—or more precisely, why this memory had awakened within the Diadem.
"Because of you," she said simply.
"Me?" Kyle frowned, puzzled.
"Yes," Ravenclaw confirmed. "I put this memory into a deep sleep, waiting for the right moment to awaken. And the young alchemist—Nicolas—happened to hold memories of you that were sufficient to rouse me."
Kyle couldn't help but feel a little odd. He was fairly certain this was the first time anyone had referred to Nicolas Flamel as "the young alchemist." Of course, coming from Ravenclaw's perspective, the description was technically accurate.
"But why?" Kyle asked. "I don't see what's so special about me that you'd go to such lengths—waiting a thousand years, no less."
"There are two reasons," Ravenclaw explained. "First, although I already know it has happened, I still cannot bear to see my Diadem turned into a Horcrux. You've already destroyed one of this person's Horcruxes, and I believe you will continue to do so. If the temptation to wear the Diadem becomes overwhelming, this memory of mine could save your life."
Kyle pressed his lips together thoughtfully. Until now, he had assumed that Ravenclaw's essence within the Diadem was no different from the magical portraits in the castle—able to speak but otherwise powerless. Yet her words suggested she retained some of her original abilities, which was... unsettling.
"What's the second reason?" Kyle asked, curiosity driving him on.
This time, Ravenclaw hesitated. After a lengthy pause, her voice softened.
"My daughter, Helena Ravenclaw," she said quietly. "When I regained this memory, I made a prediction... and I saw a ghost."
For the first time, her tone faltered, trembling slightly.
"Only those who fear death, or wizards with deep obsessions, can turn into ghosts and return to the darkest corners of their memories. Please, tell her this for me: no matter what she chooses to do, she must stop punishing herself so cruelly."
Kyle froze. The future?
Of course—when Ravenclaw had sealed this memory, Helena had yet to steal the Diadem. It was astonishing, though not entirely surprising, how closely they resembled each other.
Both mother and daughter had waited a thousand years to entrust him with a message.
"Madam Ravenclaw, if that is your wish, then I will not take this upon myself—" Kyle began.
"I can offer you a satisfactory price," Ravenclaw interrupted, her tone tinged with urgency. "Knowledge, wealth—anything you desire, as long as you can find her."
"No, you misunderstand," Kyle said, shaking his head. "I think this is something the two of you should say to each other."
With that, he placed his suitcase on the table and opened it. A pearly-white figure drifted out from within—Helena Ravenclaw, also known as the Grey Lady.
"This is where the Diadem is kept..." Helena began, but her gaze immediately locked onto Kyle's head. "I suggest you take it off, or you'll drive yourself mad eventually."
"I'd love to, but I can't," Kyle replied with a helpless shrug. To demonstrate, he reached up and gave the Diadem a firm tug—and it came off easily.
The atmosphere turned awkward in an instant. Moments ago, the Diadem had seemed fused to his head, and now it was as if it had never been stuck at all.
"Believe me, it really wouldn't come off before," Kyle said, his voice dry.
Helena raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Even Peeves wouldn't tell such an unconvincing lie."
"Seriously, I—" Kyle sighed, cutting himself off. "Never mind." Without further protest, he approached Helena and moved to place the Diadem on her head.
"It won't work. Ghosts can't touch anything," Helena said flatly. "I just need to see it."
Kyle knew this, but for some reason, an inexplicable urge pushed him to continue. A voice in the back of his mind assured him it would work.
He gently lowered the Diadem onto Helena's head, releasing it—and to his astonishment, it stayed.