Chapter Fifty-Two: Leaving the Dungeon

Unwittingly, Xiwen had already spent two months at Hogwarts, and tomorrow would be Halloween, November 1st. However, there was no tradition of a holiday for Halloween in Britain, so after tonight’s grand feast, the young witches and wizards would still have to attend classes as usual the next day.

On Halloween Eve, it wasn't just the wizards within the castle who enjoyed a lavish banquet; the many ghosts would also hold their own annual fervent gathering that night—a true celebration belonging to them.

It was on this night that Dumbledore walked into the castle dungeon.

Descending the winding staircase that connected to the entrance courtyard, he had expected to be met with the damp and gloomy conditions typical of such places. To his surprise, the underground was unexpectedly clean, and the air seemed even to carry a faint, rich scent of flowers.

As he proceeded toward the dungeons, he found the way lined with fresh torches, making the corridor increasingly bright as he advanced. Outside the cell where the ghost Xiwen resided, there were even beds of fresh flowers, and a lovely bluish-purple carpet was spread along the passageway between them.

Helena floated beside the flowers, wreathed in their fragrance, her beautiful features framed by the blossoms, making her seem all the more enchanting. Meanwhile, the ghost Xiwen drifted lazily above a luxurious sofa, reclining in a relaxed pose as he admired Helena’s slender figure and her flower-like face.

“It appears Mr. Strange is living quite comfortably?” Dumbledore remarked in some surprise as he took in the scene.

“Thanks to you,” Xiwen replied lazily, hardly bothering to lift his gaze.

Helena nodded slightly at Dumbledore, a gesture that sufficed as a greeting.

“If you could go out, might the two of you wish to attend the ghosts’ Halloween feast tonight?” Dumbledore asked with keen interest.

“Would Headmaster Dippet actually allow me out?” Xiwen arched an eyebrow, his expression one of disbelief.

“The professors have discussed it,” Dumbledore said. “We have no evidence that Mr. Strange is the one who damaged the magical nodes, so depriving you of your freedom is already a breach of propriety. To deny you attendance at the ghosts’ annual festival would be downright inhumane.”

“So you do know it’s improper!” Helena scoffed, her tone cold.

Dumbledore could only respond with an apologetic look before turning to Xiwen. “Staying too long in one place is never pleasant, no matter how nicely it’s been refurbished. Do you truly not wish to get a breath of fresh air, Mr. Strange?”

“Who said I didn’t want to go out?” Xiwen straightened from the sofa and floated to the cell door, replying, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss such an opportunity.”

Dumbledore nodded and added, “However, I must ask you to promise not to leave the Ghost Hall for the entire evening. Lady Grey, could I count on you to supervise?”

He directed the last question to Helena.

Helena nodded nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him out of my sight!”

Her words carried a subtle implication that made Xiwen’s face flush, and Dumbledore’s expression turned teasing as he glanced between the two of them.

“Ahem, Professor Dumbledore, you can undo the spell now, can’t you?” Helena, embarrassed by Dumbledore’s look, spoke so softly her voice was barely audible.

Dumbledore smiled understandingly, drew his wand, and tapped the transparent barrier. A gap, as large as the cell door, opened in the shield.

“Mr. Strange, if you please,” Dumbledore said, extending his left arm in a gentlemanly gesture, inviting Xiwen out of the cell.

As Xiwen floated out, he felt as though he had returned from another world. Having been confined to a single room for nearly two months, he was almost unaccustomed to leaving it, as if he had lost a sense of security.

At that moment, a soft, cold body drifted into Xiwen’s arms, bringing with it a profound sense of safety. Ordinarily, ghosts could touch each other but could not feel anything. Xiwen’s spiritual form was different; he could sense the chill of Helena’s presence—a curious sensation of souls intertwining.

He was stunned for a moment.

“Ahem—” Dumbledore cleared his throat nearby. “I think it’s time for us to be on our way.”

Helena, blushing, released Xiwen and hid behind him, as if that could shield her from Dumbledore’s gaze. She forgot, of course, that ghosts were transparent…

Xiwen smacked his lips, savoring the embrace they’d just shared. It wasn’t until Dumbledore reminded him again that he came to himself and followed up the spiral staircase leading to the entrance courtyard.

Dumbledore ascended the stairs while Xiwen and Helena floated upward through the circular space around them, making for a rather peculiar scene.

Perhaps wishing to break the awkward silence, Dumbledore spoke: “Mr. Strange, you do realize you are quite special.”

Xiwen paused, then replied, “I suppose I am, even the way I became a ghost was unusual.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “I don’t mean the manner of your becoming a ghost, or your unique ability to cast spells. I mean a certain peculiar charm about you.”

“Charm?” Xiwen was baffled and could only say, “If that’s a compliment, thank you, Professor.”

Dumbledore laughed heartily. “You could take it as such, but what I really refer to is your state of mind. Your thinking seems to stand apart, as if it transcends this era.”

At this, Dumbledore fixed Xiwen with a deep look. A sudden flash of silver glinted across his glasses, sending a chill through Xiwen.

‘Have I betrayed myself in some way? Has he seen through my origins?’ Xiwen wondered uneasily, but he could not pinpoint his mistake. ‘Could it be that Dumbledore tampered with the ghost-binding charm and eavesdropped on my conversations with Helena?’

‘Or perhaps I’m overthinking it.’ Regaining his composure, Xiwen forced a smile. “Perhaps it’s because I come from the East—our ways of thinking are quite different.”

“Perhaps so.” Dumbledore smiled ambiguously.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. Man and two ghosts arrived before the shadowy doors of the Ghost Hall beneath the main tower.

“I’ll leave you here,” Dumbledore told them. “Mr. Strange, remember not to leave the hall and to remain with Lady Grey at all times. When the feast is over, I’ll personally escort you both back to the dungeons.”

Xiwen nodded and, together with Helena, passed through the heavy, shadowy bronze doors into the hall beyond.

…