Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 183 I am your Uncle Salazar

Just by looking at his back, Rice knew that the person standing before him was the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw. Thinking of Barrow standing behind him, he couldn't help but sigh: pitiful, pathetic.

She still remembered what the two of them looked like when they were studying at Hogwarts. One was a Ravenclaw child adopted from his relatives, and the other was a wizard orphan who was picked up by Hufflepuff and then joined Slytherin House.

The two displayed extraordinary magical talent as soon as they entered the school, but unfortunately, neither of these promising talents could grow into the great tree that would protect the school.

If they had a choice, neither Barrow nor Helena would want to become ghosts, right?

After a wizard dies, as long as their soul is intact, they can become a ghost and linger in the world, wandering the places they once lived. But very few wizards are willing to do this.

Because once one chooses to become a ghost, the possibility of reincarnation is forever lost. Without exception, the underworld will no longer accept their souls, and they are incompatible with the world of the living: they cannot eat, their movements are restricted, and they cannot have any impact on the present world. Rather than being "immortal" ghosts, they are more like prisoners trapped in an open prison or echoes of the dead remaining in the world.

Wizards wouldn't choose to become ghosts unless they had some unresolved regrets. Only a genius like Ravenclaw could cleverly preserve his magical abilities, taking a huge step ahead of other ghosts in their exploration of death.

However, in a sense, if those two hadn't become ghosts, he would never have seen them again. That was actually a good thing for him.

Hearing the sound of the lounge door opening, Helena turned around and saw Rice standing in the doorway.

Rice also saw Helena's face clearly. Compared to the Bloody Barrow, Helena looked better. Her beautiful face was not much different from when he left Hogwarts, and the arrogance in her eyes was exactly the same as before.

"This is the Ravenclaw House lounge, student. What brings you here?" She looked at Rice coldly, then her lips twisted into a sneer. "If you're here to find out where the Crown is, you can go back."

She turned away again and stood in front of the Ravenclaw statue, lost in thought. Clearly, she wasn't willing to spend another second on someone like Rice.

While Rice and Helena were talking, the bloodthirsty Barrow took several steps back, completely afraid to appear within Helena's sight. At that moment, he even wanted to abandon his teacher and run away—after all, he had found Helena, hadn't he?

However, he ultimately didn't dare leave Rice alone there.

Rice was prepared for Helena's indifference.

This is actually a pretty good start! Heaven knows what would have happened if Helena had seen Barrow first.

Rice took a few steps forward and walked up to the Ravenclaw statue.

He squinted, scrutinizing the marble statue: beautifully sculpted, yet with a sense of detachment. Looking up from below, "Ravenclaw" seemed to be gazing at him, a faint, mocking smile on her face. Above her head was an exquisite marble replica of a circular headdress—Ravenclaw's crown.

Seeing Rice follow, Helena's face showed impatience: This little wizard is so tactless!

If it were the old her, she could have hung him from the chandelier in the lounge with a flick of her wand, but now she's helpless against this kind of brat.

Distracted, Helena decided to leave, but the little wizard's voice drifted into her ears.

"Apart from the crown, this statue doesn't resemble Rowena at all."

Helena stopped in her tracks, turned her head, and squinted her eyes.

"You've never seen Ravenclaw, nor have you ever touched a tiara, ha, what do you know?"

"I've met her before, Nana."

Helena paused for a moment, then asked, "What did you call me?"

"Nana. Oh, you're a big girl now, so I'll still call you Helena—I heard you took a pseudonym, Gray? Should I call you Gray?"

Listening to what Rice was saying, Helena felt that the little wizard in front of her had probably gone mad.

baffling!

"I have not only seen and touched the crown, but I also know that it was made from the skull of Odin, the king of the gods."

Helena's eyes were filled with disbelief. She stared intently at Rice's face and asked, word by word, "Do you know what you're saying?"

"Of course, because I also contributed to the creation of the crown, in terms of material supply—Barrow, how much longer are you going to stand outside the door?" Rice turned his head to look at the door of the lounge and shouted impatiently.

Barrow finally made it through the wall and into the lounge.

Upon seeing the blood-soaked Barrow, Helena's expression immediately changed, but before she could react, Rice's words completely diverted her attention.

"Let's get to know each other again. I am Slytherin. You can call me Uncle Salazar like you did when we were kids, or you can call me Professor Slytherin like you do now."

Helena: ?!

The barrage of information left her dizzy and disoriented. After a few seconds, she asked blankly, "You say you're Uncle Salazar, what proof do you have?"

Actually, when she asked that question, Rice already believed about 70% of what she said.

"Barrow can testify."

Helena looked at Barrow, who was standing in the corner of the lounge, and saw him nod silently.

Helena felt dizzy and overwhelmed by a strong sense of unreality: the young boy in front of her was actually her Uncle Salazar.

Absurd, incomprehensible, yet highly believable.

"Did you create a Horcrux?" Helena asked instinctively.

Rice: ? ? ?

"Don't swear!" Rice was very dissatisfied. "Do you really think I'm such a despicable wizard? Only the most despicable scum would use Horcruxes to seek immortality."

"sorry."

Faced with that familiar tone, Helena instinctively apologized.

Distracted by Rice, Helena completely forgot about Barrow's presence; she desperately wanted to know why Uncle Salazar was there, and...

"I need to know what happened after you took Rowena's crown."

Rice's words were like a thunderclap, exploding in Helena's ears and causing her body to tremble involuntarily.

"So you knew—"

"Royna told me that something like a crown shouldn't be allowed to slip away."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Update delivered. Next update will be a bit late, time for bed~

Found a very suitable illustration

I had indigestion during the Spring Festival, and my stomach has been upset all day... so sad.

(End of this chapter)