The candlelit hall was elaborately decorated with live bats, and huge pumpkins were carved into lanterns, large enough to seat three people.
Every year before Halloween, a lavish feast to satisfy the taste buds of the entire school was inevitable.
The students seemed particularly excited. Crabbe and Goyle had been daydreaming during their afternoon classes, whispering amongst themselves about what kind of feast would be at the Halloween banquet.
Although hearing the menu made him somewhat hungry and he longed to sit down at the Slytherin table and feast to satisfy his empty stomach, Draco decided to try his luck before the meal, as usual, and thus appeared once again in the Astronomy Tower.
The nights at the end of October were already chilly, let alone in the tower. Draco's wizard robes were almost completely soaked through by the cold wind. He cast several Warming Charms on himself, but the strong wind made little difference.
The Baron seemed intoxicated today. Several moldy empty bottles lay scattered at his feet, and his eyes were fixed blankly on the tower next door, making his already horrible face look even more grotesque.
It has a festive atmosphere, Draco objectively commented.
Also, can ghosts get drunk? He was quite puzzled by the basic principles of this matter, but that was not the focus of his attention today, so he let it pass.
"The Grey Lady does not seem to be up in Ravenclaw Tower today," Draco said lightly, casting another Warming Charm on his robes, as though discussing the weather. He slowly sat down next to the Baron, following his gaze toward Ravenclaw Tower.
"Hmph..." The Baron was clearly not satisfied.
"Did she not invite you to the ghosts' Halloween party? I saw many ghosts went," Draco said approachably.
"She will never invite me," the Baron suddenly said, which made Draco look at him with a mixture of surprise and excitement.
"She will never forgive me. She hates me," the Baron said sadly, raising the shackles on his wrists and looking at them as though he had committed some terrible crime. "I... I regret it so much... I punish myself."
In the past, especially during the time when the Dark Lord lived in Malfoy Manor, the high pressure and terrifying atmosphere had honed Draco's observation skills to an extremely sharp level.
At that moment, looking at the Baron's silver bloodstained robes and shackles, he used his keen observation to deduce a possibility.
A chilling possibility.
"You killed her?" he asked tentatively. He knew that the Baron might not have a second chance to open up.
The Baron nodded slowly. Even though he was somewhat prepared, Draco was still surprised. He tried his best to suppress a gasp, afraid of interrupting the Baron's rare outburst.
"I found the forest where she was hiding. She was proud. She did not love me, and she would not come back with me, so I stabbed her." The Baron lowered his head, looking at his transparent hands. "I regretted it, so I killed myself. I wanted to be with her. Even if she hated me."
How did you find her?
"She was in a dark forest in Albania, where her mother was too far away to reach her. Her mother was sick, very sick. She sent me to find her."
"The forest in Albania," Draco murmured, slowly absorbing the name.
Quirrell claims he encountered trouble in a forest, which led to his current state. There might be a connection. Could that forest be the Albanian forest?
Do not blame me for making unfounded connections. These past few years have taught me a lesson: there are not that many coincidences in this world. Most coincidences come from carefully planned and hidden arrangements.
Based on this understanding, he had been able to comprehend the secret of the Vanishing Cabinet in his previous life, which led to that ingenious design, ultimately making him an accomplice in Snape's murder of Dumbledore.
Admittedly, his purpose and method in applying this principle had been seriously flawed, but the principle itself was sound. It still shone with unwavering certainty in all the intricate relationships and countless connections within the magical world.
That said, even a great witch like Rowena Ravenclaw could not find her daughter in the Albanian forest, her magic unable to reach that far. It is hard to imagine another forest as powerful as this one in the world.
When the weakened Dark Lord needed a place to lie low and spend his long period of recovery undisturbed, was not the desolate and remote Albanian forest his ideal refuge?
"And what about the diadem?" Draco pressed on.
"I did not find her, nor did I find it," the Baron sighed painfully, his dull eyes turning to Draco, as though he were noticing for the first time that there was a living person beside him.
"Do not wait until it is too late to regret it," he looked at him with a sorrowful expression, inexplicably uttered these words, and silently stood up, passing Draco and disappearing into the depths of the tower.
Poor ghost. Draco sighed softly, a tiny, subtle pity rising in his heart.
After his initial sympathy, Draco quickly fell into deep thought. The Baron's use of the phrase "Not Found" was something he could not help but worry about. Rowena Ravenclaw had sent the Baron, and the treasures she sought to retrieve were likely not merely her daughter, but also the diadem.
Therefore, it was easy to understand why the Grey Lady had been ashamed to use her original name for many years.
She is ashamed. She betrayed her mother, stole the diadem, and hid it in the dark forest where even her mother could not find it.
Today's cold and hunger had not been in vain. Draco had finally found a clue about the Diadem of Ravenclaw, which excited him so much that he ignored the cold and paced back and forth on the drafty platform in the bleak winter night, his mind racing.
If Ravenclaw's lost diadem was hidden in the distant Albanian forest, how did it end up in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts?
What role did the Dark Lord play in all of this? And why was he interested in the diadem?
Although many mysteries still lay ahead, Draco's keen intuition, honed over many years, told him that he was one step closer to the truth.
Next came an even more daunting task: to convince the naturally sensitive Grey Lady to open up and discover what had happened in that remote Albanian forest.
This was a thousand times harder than getting through to the Baron. First, he had to stop her from fleeing in a hurry, and only then could he attempt to gain her trust. This might only be the beginning of the real test.