Chapter Thirty-Three: The Descendants of the Prophet

"I can't see you—"

The wavering voice echoed throughout the lounge, causing the previously lively atmosphere to falter.

"What did you say?" Severn seized the chance to break free from the crowd, walked over to her, and asked with a frown.

Manice hurriedly tugged at her friend's sleeve and said to Severn, "Sorry, Manto has a rather peculiar personality and often says things people don't understand. She doesn't mean any harm!"

Severn glanced again at the silver-haired girl called Manto. Her eyes were still shrouded in a white mist that seemed to swirl and shift, making her look especially uncanny.

"Don't bother with her, Rozier," said an older wizard nearby, clearly accustomed to such scenes and responding with indifference. "Just trying to draw attention. Trelawney has scared people off with her bizarre talk so much that hardly anyone pays her any mind now."

"Manto isn't—" Manice tried to defend her friend, but didn't know how to start.

Severn studied the girl named Manto Trelawney and her strange eyes, suspecting there was more to it than mere attention-seeking.

"No, that's not right..." Trelawney was still murmuring under her breath. "You should be in the castle dungeon."

"What did you say?!" Severn's eyes widened in shock.

At this very moment, Severn's soul was indeed being confined in a room within the castle's dungeon!

He had no idea how she knew—was it just coincidence, or could she truly see his inner self?

Could she see through to his real origins as well?

"I can't see you..." Trelawney continued to mumble. Her cold, pale face was trembling now, giving her a deranged appearance.

Seeing her friend start to ramble again, Manice quickly grabbed her arm and led her down the steps, glancing back at Severn with an apologetic expression.

Severn watched their departing figures in silence.

"Did something happen here?" Miranda appeared, holding a book and a notebook, looking puzzled.

"Nothing, really. Trelawney was just babbling again," the older wizard replied.

"Oh?" Miranda cast a curious look at Severn, who was lost in thought, then patted him on the shoulder. "You're in luck. I found your Herbology notes."

She walked a few steps, then called back to Severn, who was still standing rooted to the spot. "Come on, how long are you planning to stay in our common room?"

"Oh, right!" Severn snapped out of his reverie and hurried after Miranda, leaving the Ravenclaw common room behind.

As they descended the winding staircase, Miranda suddenly asked, "What did Manto Trelawney say to you?"

Severn shook his head. "Not much. She just said she couldn't see me."

Miranda raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I thought she might make a prophecy for you."

"A prophecy?" Severn looked at her in disbelief. "You think she can prophesy?"

Miranda replied, "What, you think she's just talking nonsense?"

Severn gave a wry smile and sighed. "How should I know? She's certainly an unusual person, especially her eyes—they're a bit frightening."

Miranda was silent for a moment before saying, "Are you familiar with Cassandra Trelawney?"

Severn thought for a moment, then shook his head. "The name rings a bell, but I can't recall much."

Miranda explained, "Cassandra Trelawney was the most famous seer of the last century. Hard to believe you don't remember her."

Severn coughed awkwardly. "Is she related to Manto Trelawney?"

Miranda nodded. "Manto is Cassandra Trelawney's granddaughter."

"So she really can prophesy?" Severn asked.

Miranda shrugged. "Who knows? As far as I know, Cassandra's daughter didn't inherit her 'second sight.' So rather than worrying about prophecies, it's better to focus on the present."

She handed Severn the Herbology notes, looking at him intently.

Severn accepted the notebook and nodded in agreement. "You're right."

…

After picking up the two notebooks, Severn was promptly shooed out of the Ravenclaw tower by Miranda, who claimed he was disrupting her morning reading and she needed to catch up.

Watching Miranda's figure recede toward the lawn, Severn could only shake his head helplessly. Then, recalling the two notebooks resting quietly in his pocket watch space—especially the thick "Book of Spells"—his mood brightened considerably.

Checking the time, he saw there were still two hours until lunch, just enough to slip down to the dungeons for a bit of cleaning. With Miranda's spell-filled notes in hand, progress would surely be much smoother this time.

…

The Hogwarts dungeons were as dark, damp, and eerie as ever, but after last night's thorough cleansing charms, the cobwebs and dust around Helena and the ghostly Severn had noticeably diminished.

A few spare Slytherin dormitory candles burned steadfastly nearby, driving away some of the age-old gloom.

Young wizard Severn handed Miranda’s spell notes to ghost-Severn, the two—body and soul—exchanging a knowing smile.

Ghost-Severn would study the spell theories while young Severn practiced them in reality. Severn fancied himself quite the master of time management!

Hovering nearby, Helena watched the silent exchange of books between the pair with a puzzled expression. "What are you two doing?"

'Damn! I almost forgot—there are two of us now, or rather, one wizard and one ghost,' Severn thought, jolted.

But he recovered quickly enough. Ghost-Severn turned and opened the "Book of Spells," holding it up for Helena to see. "Yesterday we asked Severn to consult the upper-year students, remember? I also asked him to bring back some advanced notes. Perhaps these will help jog your memory for spells you once learned?"

Young Severn eagerly nodded in agreement.

Helena looked at them both, wondering if she'd been distracted last night and missed Stephen giving young Severn those instructions.

But she didn't dwell on it, and instead lowered her gaze to the book.

"The person who compiled this book is quite talented," Helena remarked with admiration. "But in our era, we didn't use these spells. If you're hoping I'll remember with this book, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."

"That's a pity," ghost-Severn sighed, then turned to young Severn and asked, feigning formality, "May I borrow this book to read?"

Young Severn replied, just as theatrically, "Of course, no problem!"

"So did your upper-year friends teach you any useful methods?" Helena asked with curiosity.

Young Severn replied, "Yes, a Ravenclaw upperclassman gave me some practical tips."

Hearing the advice came from a Ravenclaw, Helena looked pleased. "Well, give it a try, then!"

…

…