Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 558: The Magical Diadem

The next day marked the start of the Easter holiday. Kyle rose early, leaving the common room before most of the castle had stirred.

His first destination, with the assistance of the Fat Friar, was the castle tower, where he found Helena. Afterward, he made his way to Hogsmeade Station, arriving well before nine o’clock.

Perhaps due to the Triwizard Tournament, there were hardly any students going home for the break this year. As a result, Kyle found himself the sole occupant of the entire Prefects’ compartment. It was a welcome convenience—no need to search for a quieter spot.

As the train doors closed and the locomotive began to rumble, Kyle took out the key Dumbledore had entrusted to him. Holding it carefully, he whispered:

“Nicolas Flamel.”

The sound of the train’s whistle vanished abruptly. When Kyle opened his eyes again, he was no longer aboard the train but standing at the entrance of a grand manor.

Before him stretched a magnificent gate flanked by two lifelike dragon statues.

Curious, Kyle approached the statues. He recalled Nicolas mentioning that these creations were among his most satisfying works in recent centuries. Despite their impressive craftsmanship, Kyle didn’t sense anything particularly magical about them. They seemed like ordinary stone statues, albeit intricately inscribed with runes and symbols.

“Welcome, sir!”

The shrill voice startled Kyle, and he turned to see Tata, a House-elf, bowing deeply to him.

“My master has instructed Tata to greet you,” the elf said, straightening slightly.

“Thank you,” Kyle replied politely, finding himself more at ease with Tata guiding him.

“It is an honor,” Tata said before leading Kyle into the manor.

The journey took them through the elegant front courtyard, into the grand foyer, and down a lengthy corridor before they stopped at the door of an unassuming room.

Tata knocked lightly, and the door soon opened.

Inside, Kyle encountered Nicolas Flamel—not in person, but through the surface of a large mirror. The image resembled the portraits in the Headmaster’s office, though Nicolas’s figure was much more dynamic.

“I’m delighted to see you, Kyle,” Nicolas said warmly from the mirror, turning slightly as he spoke. “The Philosopher’s Stone is at a critical stage, so I cannot leave my work. Thankfully, I prepared this in advance.”

As Nicolas spoke, the reflection in the mirror leaned forward, poking its head through the glass. A moment later, his entire body passed through the table as if it weren’t there, materializing before Kyle.

“Another use for the Pensieve,” Nicolas explained. “What you’re seeing is a memory.”

Even without the explanation, Kyle could tell this wasn’t the real Nicolas. Apart from his ability to phase through solid objects, his pace was far too brisk for a man of Nicolas’s age.

While the two spoke, Tata quietly slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“You received my letter, didn’t you?” Nicolas asked.

Kyle nodded.

“Good. Then come here.”

Nicolas led Kyle to a nearby shelf. At its center rested a purple velvet cushion, atop which sat an elegant crown—Ravenclaw’s Diadem.

The once-corroded artifact had been fully restored to its original splendor. The silver gleamed like freshly polished metal, shaped into the form of a raven with wings outstretched. At the center, where the raven’s body would be, was a single, brilliant sapphire.

The Diadem, now pristine, exuded no discernible magical aura. To Kyle, it seemed like nothing more than a beautifully crafted piece of jewelry.

“The most perfect alchemy techniques result in almost no loss of magical power,” Nicolas sighed. “It took me nearly three hundred years to achieve that.”

He then shifted topics, his expression more thoughtful. “I imagine you’ve guessed who I referred to as the ‘Madam’ in my letter.”

Kyle hesitated, then nodded. “I have a name in mind... but it’s hard to believe. It feels... incredible.”

“To be honest, I feel the same,” Nicolas admitted with a faint smile. “I thought I had seen it all—nothing could surprise me anymore. And then, the other day, I suddenly heard the Diadem...” He shook his head in disbelief. “I nearly fell out of my chair.”

“But you might be able to handle this better than I did. After all, you’ve already met her once.”

“So, it really was Rowena Ravenclaw?” Kyle asked, almost incredulous.

“Who else could it be?” Nicolas laughed. “The Diadem wasn’t going to channel Albus’s voice.”

“That would’ve been terrifying,” Kyle chuckled.

Dumbledore still didn’t know the Diadem had been found, and neither Kyle nor Nicolas had mentioned it to him. Both agreed that if Dumbledore insisted on reclaiming it for the school, the situation could grow... complicated.

“Well,” Nicolas continued, “Madam Ravenclaw seems to want a private word with you, so I won’t keep you. Just put the Diadem on your head.”

With that, Nicolas then disappeared, and his form dissolved into faint flashes of light within the mirror, leaving Kyle alone in the room.

Kyle approached the Diadem on the cushion. Its craftsmanship was exquisite, but it felt unassuming in his hands, weighing about the same as a book. Taking a deep breath, he placed it carefully on his head.

The moment the Diadem settled, the world seemed to brighten. Kyle’s thoughts clarified as if a fog had lifted, and long-standing puzzles unraveled in an instant.

For example, he now understood why his Firestorm Charm was so inferior to Dumbledore’s. He’d believed the issue lay in the amount of magic he used, but he realized now that wasn’t the case.

The key was efficiency. He didn’t need to waste energy maintaining the flames’ form and stability. Instead, he should have used his magic to activate runes, letting them handle the structure. All Kyle had to do was guide the Charm, like flying a kite. As long as the string was in his hands, the kite wouldn’t drift out of control.

No wonder Dumbledore had urged him repeatedly to study the book on ancient runes.

Curiosity drew Kyle’s gaze to the mirror on the wall. To his astonishment, the runes engraved on its frame sprang to life. They shimmered, shifted, and organized themselves into patterns, forming a scene that resembled a Quidditch match.

Some runes became Chasers, others Seekers. The Quaffle, Bludger, and Golden Snitch all played their parts, weaving together a mesmerizing game. Each rune’s role was distinct yet interdependent, creating a flawless system.

“This is incredible...” Kyle murmured, captivated.

“That’s because you already know this information,” said a cold, calm voice, both unfamiliar and yet strangely familiar.

Startled, Kyle froze as the voice continued:

“The Diadem cannot grant knowledge you do not possess. If someone ignorant of runes were to wear this, they’d gain nothing. Even now, you only understand the mirror’s function because of what you’ve already learned.”

As the voice faded, so did the vision before his eyes. The enchanting clarity and brilliance vanished, leaving Kyle with an abrupt and overwhelming sense of loss.

He wanted the sensation back. He wanted it to last forever.

A cool breeze, like the whisper of a dew-soaked morning, stirred the air and pulled him momentarily back to his senses.

“No!” Kyle gasped, shivering as cold sweat dripped from his forehead.

Now he understood Nicolas’s warning. The intoxicating feeling of omniscience was dangerously addictive. Just a few seconds had left him craving more. If he continued wearing the Diadem for any length of time, the abrupt return to normalcy would likely drive him mad.

Resolving to end the experience, Kyle reached up to remove the Diadem. But to his horror, it refused to budge—it felt as though it had fused to his head.

Panic began to well up as he tugged harder, but the artifact wouldn’t budge.