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Chapter 548: Helena and Nearly Headless Nick
🕑 Added 2025-02-27 13:13:19 +0000 UTCThe next day, a Saturday, dawned quietly. Early in the morning, Ratton flew out of Hogwarts clutching Kyle’s letter. Kyle had made it clear in his note that he wanted no part in the Most Charming Smile Award and hoped Rita Skeeter would get the message and drop the idea.
With that task handled, Kyle finished the bread on his plate and decided to head to the library to borrow a few books to pass the time. However, as he reached the staircase, a ghost emerged from the wall directly in front of him.
"I've been waiting for you..." Helena Ravenclaw said, her translucent figure seeming even more ethereal in the morning light. Her tone was calm but carried an undercurrent of expectation. "It’s the weekend, so perhaps you’ll keep your promise."
Kyle gave himself a light pat on the head. Of course. No wonder I felt like I’d forgotten something.
"Sorry, I should’ve come to you sooner, Grey... er, Madam Ravenclaw," Kyle stammered, though addressing her that way felt awkward.
Helena seemed to sense his discomfort. After a moment of silence, she said, "Just call me Helena."
“Alright,” Kyle nodded.
"Follow me. We’ll need somewhere quiet to talk," she said and glided through the wall into an empty classroom adjacent to the staircase.
Kyle followed, stepping into the quiet room.
"Let me think where to start," he mused aloud before deciding, "About fifty years ago, there was a Hogwarts student named Tom Riddle. He managed to obtain Ravenclaw’s Diadem, which had been missing for centuries."
After he finished, Kyle watched Helena carefully, waiting for her reaction.
"Tom Riddle..." Helena murmured, her voice almost a whisper. "I know... I told him where the Diadem was. It wasn’t missing—I stole it and hid it in a hollow tree in the Albanian Forest."
She closed her eyes, her expression heavy with regret. "I don’t know why I told him. That student, Riddle, he... he was very charming. He seemed so understanding, so compassionate... just like you."
Kyle twitched slightly at the corner of his mouth. Was that last part really necessary? he thought, though he kept his expression neutral.
Helena, oblivious to Kyle’s thoughts, continued. "I’ve observed that you’re quite popular in the castle as well. Every ghost speaks highly of you—even Peeves, the most mischievous of us."
"Well... we’re all friends here, and I do my best to get along with them," Kyle replied, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "But where was I? Oh, right—after Tom Riddle got the Diadem, he made it into a Horcrux."
At this, Helena’s head shot up, her ethereal features sharpening.
"A Horcrux... the most evil kind of dark magic... How dare he tarnish Ravenclaw’s Diadem in such a way!"
For the first time, Kyle saw a ghost express anger so vividly. Helena trembled, her translucent form flickering as though caught in a storm of emotion.
"Don’t get worked up, Madam Helena. The matter has been resolved," Kyle said quickly, hoping to soothe her. "Do you remember the person I was speaking to the other day? That was Nicolas Flamel, the greatest alchemist in the magical world. A problem like a Horcrux won’t be beyond his capabilities."
Helena’s anger seemed to ebb slightly at Kyle’s reassurance. She floated back into a calmer posture, her flickering subsiding.
Kyle proceeded to explain how he had discovered the Diadem Horcrux in the Room of Requirement and entrusted it to Nicolas Flamel for safekeeping and purification. Helena listened intently, her expression grave but composed, and she remained silent throughout his explanation. She neither interrupted nor asked questions.
After Kyle finished speaking, Helena was silent for a long time, as if lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her voice was small and tremulous.
“I heard from Sir Nicholas de Mimsy... that you saw my mother,” she said hesitantly. “When was that? How was she...?”
Kyle considered her question carefully. “I can only say it was during my third year, though I don’t know the exact date. The Founders were all there,” he said, reflecting. “As for Madam Ravenclaw, she seemed well, but... she wasn’t very talkative.”
“My mother was always like that,” Helena said, her gaze meeting Kyle’s. Then, after a pause, she added softly, “If... you ever see her again, could you take a message for me?”
“Madam Helena, I would love to,” Kyle replied gently, “but it’s nearly impossible.”
He explained briefly about how his previous encounter with the Founders had only been possible due to Salazar Slytherin and a specific set of circumstances. Even if Nicolas Flamel managed to repair the Time-Turner, it could only turn back the clock by a hundred years at most—not a thousand. And even if it were possible, Kyle knew the risks were far too great. He wasn’t willing to gamble with his life.
“Perhaps so,” Helena said, her tone distant as she seemed lost in her thoughts. “Thank you for making up for my mistake... thank you...”
With that, she floated through the wall and disappeared, leaving Kyle alone in the classroom.
Kyle turned to leave, intending to head for the library, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed something strange. Half a head had “grown” out of the wall behind him.
“Sir Nicholas? What are you doing here?” Kyle asked, startled.
Nearly Headless Nick seemed equally flustered. He quickly retracted his head, only to float fully into the room a second later.
“I just happened to hear…” Nick began, his tone awkward. It was clear he was trying to come up with an explanation but quickly abandoned the effort. “Oh, young Kyle… Listen, I know the Grey Lady is charming, but she’s not right for you. There are plenty of young ladies in the castle who—well, who are more… suitable. You should look at them more often.”
Kyle blinked, his expression a mixture of confusion and exasperation. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea,” he said flatly.
Good grief, Kyle thought, does Nearly Headless Nick really think I’m dating Helena? The absurdity of it left him speechless. She’s over a thousand years old… and a ghost, for Merlin’s sake!
“We were just talking about Lady Rowena Ravenclaw,” Kyle clarified. “You’re the one who told her I met the Founders during my third year.”
“Oh… yes… that’s right…” Nick stammered, his face flushing with embarrassment—if such a thing were possible for a ghost. “I slipped up that day. But you can understand, can’t you? For us ghosts, such things are usually our only source of amusement.”
Kyle shrugged noncommittally, not bothering to argue.
Nick pressed on. “And I mainly wanted to warn you. The Bloody Baron is... well, the Grey Lady’s, um, crazed suitor. He’s very possessive, and he was just outside with me. But now it seems that warning isn’t necessary.”
Nick floated toward the wall and stuck his head out. “Hey, Baron, did you hear that? They’re—” He stopped abruptly, looking confused. “Strange, where is the Baron?”
Kyle decided he’d had enough of the ghost’s incoherent rambling and walked toward the door, ready to leave.
“Oh, wait!” Nick called after him. “I still have something to say.”
Kyle sighed and paused mid-step, turning back. “What now?”
“Actually…” Nick admitted sheepishly, “I wasn’t just passing by earlier. I was looking for you.”
“You were looking for me? Why?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s the Headmaster,” Nick said. “I just ran into Albus on the eighth floor while I was practicing my headbutts. He asked me to tell you to come see him in the Headmaster’s Office at your earliest convenience. Oh, and today’s password is Tooth Splintering Strong Mints.”
“Got it,” Kyle said, nodding. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome,” Nick replied. “Always a pleasure!”
