[177] The Looming Shadow

"Hall! We've been chosen!" Harry and Ron waved with beaming smiles.

"Chosen for what?"

"Quidditch! Last semester was cancelled because of the Triwizard Tournament. But next semester it's back!"

Harry's smile never wavered. Flying freely on a broom — he couldn't wait.

"Harry's Seeker. I'm Keeper." Ron glanced at Hall. "Fred and George are Beaters."

Hall raised an eyebrow. "What — finally realised we're rivals?"

Their expressions contorted. They'd forgotten. Hall was Slytherin's Beater.

"Even with Hall, I won't hold back!" Ron declared. Not a single ball would get past him.

"See you on the field."

Ron and Harry's fighting spirit ignited. Hall decided to ask if Slytherin had resumed training.

At dinner, Hall discussed it with Draco.

"I've successfully competed for Seeker." Draco raised his chin proudly.

"What about Flint?"

Zabini answered. "Beater, like you. His build suits it — brute force for Bludgers."

"I wanted to compete for Beater too." Zabini sighed.

"Hall earned it," Draco said. "Not because the others are weak — because Hall is strong."

He looked thin. But his strength was something Draco didn't want to be in the reference group for.

"I thought about being Beater." Draco cut into his steak. "A powerful hit — every man's ambition. But my dad won't allow it. Seeker is his biggest concession."

Hall didn't offer comfort. He could only support.

"Slytherin will win the Quidditch Cup this year."

"Right. As a new Chaser, I'll do my best." Zabini agreed.

Pansy and Daphne glanced over but stayed with their Witch Weekly.

Hall sensed something. He looked up.

The Grey Lady was floating toward the Slytherin table.

Ravenclaw students stared in surprise. Slytherin students went quiet.

At the Slytherin table, the Bloody Baron froze completely.

"H-Helena..."

"I sense there's more to this." Zabini glanced at the Grey Lady drifting toward them, then at the Bloody Baron sitting nearby.

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Hall said, "I suggest you don't get involved. You can't afford to mess with this lady."

Zabini studied the ghost. A Ravenclaw-esque beauty. He couldn't afford to mess with her? He stayed calm, but inside he was already eager to find out.

"Blaise, if you die at Hogwarts, I won't lift a finger," Draco warned.

Zabini froze. Death at Hogwarts was almost impossible with Dumbledore — the greatest wizard of the century — in charge. But Draco wasn't joking. If Zabini died provoking this woman, the entire Malfoy family would stay out of it.

He extinguished the thought immediately. Curious, but he valued his life.

Helena ignored the stares. She sat down next to Hall without a glance at the Bloody Baron.

The Baron's gaze followed her. He finally noticed Hall. The look he gave Hall — Zabini leaned in. "Like you stole his wife."

Hall gave him a look. Draco gave him a look.

Helena's lips curved. "He did pursue me."

Zabini's body stiffened.

"Of course, Lady Grey, with your beauty and intelligence, suitors are no surprise." He tried to recover.

"Thank you." Her smile was serene. "I rejected him, so he killed me."

Zabini went rigid again.

"I regret nothing," Helena continued, calm and detached. Bloody Baron froze. Helena didn't acknowledge him. "Then he committed suicide out of guilt."

No emotion. No judgment. She stated it like a fact — as though the Baron couldn't stir anything in her anymore.

The Baron dashed out of the hall.

The Slytherins had witnessed a good show.

Helena was oblivious. "It's all in the past. The pain of death is over too."

Hall sighed. Whatever had happened between Helena, Rowena Ravenclaw, and the Bloody Baron — it was her story, not his.

"Did you come to see me for something?" He glanced at the petrified Zabini and took pity.

Helena chuckled.

Hall sighed again. Her personality had changed.

She opened her palm. Inside was a silver-white key. The handle was carved into a delicate white eagle — every feather visible despite its size.

"In the library and the Ravenclaw common room, as long as you have this key, you can enter."

This was a key to a Ravenclaw Founder's room. Hall took it.

"Only one." Helena cut him off before he could ask. "But you can bring people. As long as it doesn't exceed the size of your group."

Hall understood. Four people.

She turned and left without a trace.

Hall faced a group of eager onlookers.

"Hall, when did you become acquainted with the Ravenclaw ghost?" Pansy leaned in.

Daphne nodded. "I remember when you first entered Slytherin, you talked to the Bloody Baron. Did you meet her through him?"

"Coincidence." Hall waved. "I helped her resolve something. She came to thank me."

Then he shifted the blame. "Draco knows about it too."

Draco's eyes went wide — like a startled ferret.

Hall patted his shoulder. "Better a friend than me."

Pansy and Daphne turned toward Draco with renewed excitement.

Hall slipped away.

He made it as far as the library before Snape caught him by the collar.

"Good evening, Headmaster Snape."

Snape's grip did not loosen.

"Good evening?"

It was a well-intentioned phrase, but when Snape repeated it, it carried a hint of sarcasm. Hall marvelled at the old bat's talent.

"Mr. Weasley, assuming you haven't forgotten, it's bedtime." Snape looked down at the small boy in his grasp. Second year, and still so small. Did the Weasleys not feed him?

Hall, the picky eater who only craved cloyingly sweet desserts, had no idea what Snape was thinking. "I just remembered a book. Thought I'd go to the library."

The Forbidden Forest in March had no useful herbs. Unicorns were even rarer. The Ravenclaw Founder's Chamber was more appealing.

Snape squinted, scrutinising him. Hall didn't need to say a word — Snape knew exactly what he was capable of.

"I'll take you back to the dormitory."

Back in bed, Hall stared at the Slytherin green canopy. He needed a cloak. A cloak like Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

The Deathly Hallows.

He had read The Tales of Beedle the Bard countless times as a child. Most adults treated it as fiction — like Muggle fairy tales. But one story mentioned the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak. Dumbledore believed the Peverell brothers were powerful wizards who created those artefacts.

Could he create them?

His alchemy talent was extraordinary. But this went beyond alchemy. Beyond spells.

He closed his eyes. He'd think about it during summer.