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The mechanical owl was clearly a storage device of some kind.
It was very much in the Hogwarts style.
It was obviously something Professor Morgan designed to lure Ian.
So...
Ian tried some Hogwarts-style passwords, but to his surprise, none worked. He still had to use a solemn password. The moment he uttered, "Knowledge knows no bounds; truth endures eternally," the secret compartment slid open silently.
Ian held his breath as the compartment opened.
He retrieved the black notebook from within. It looked utterly unremarkable; its dark brown leather cover was already yellowed with age, and several blurry, indistinct runes were carved into it.
["To the nosy little brat who's rummaging through my things: I knew you'd find this eventually. Remember to put it back where you found it after reading. — M]
Ian couldn't help but chuckle softly.
Sure enough, his teacher had anticipated his "explorations" of the castle all along.
As Ian finished reading Professor Morgan's message, the notebook in the mechanical owl's compartment began to change. Held by the right person, the entire book suddenly trembled violently, as if a beating heart were pulsing within its pages.
It was as if the notebook had been disguised under a cloak of secrecy; it now shed its camouflage, sensing it was held by Ian, the one destined to wield it.
The plain notebook began to transform.
Silver tendrils unfurled from its spine, and a three-dimensional image sculpture emerged on the cover: a witch in a pointed hat riding a broom, chasing the moon, her robes leaving a rainbow-like trail across the night sky.
Yes!
The notebook's texture and color shifted entirely. Then, a soft, warm light spilled from between its pages, illuminating Ian's face.
He instinctively took a step back.
Yet he didn't throw the book-transformed notebook away.
Driven by curiosity, he stared intently at it.
The light gradually stabilized, and the once-worn, faded cover began to change. Flowing patterns appeared on its surface, resembling ripples in water or a shimmering galaxy. Colors seeped in gradually... first pale gold, then deep blue and emerald green, until the entire cover glowed with an otherworldly, dreamlike radiance.
The result was extremely pleasing to the eye.
It was strikingly beautiful; it didn't resemble something belonging to a dark wizard at all. Rather, it looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. Just as this thought crossed Ian's mind, the book's title began to emerge, letter by letter.
[The Fairy-Tale Mystery.]
The title emerged slowly, as if rising from the depths of water.
The letters appeared to be carved from light, shimmering with a faint silver glow.
Finally, an impossibly ornate fairy tale book settled into Ian's hands. The gold-stamped title, [The Fairy Tale Mystery ], sparkled in the sunlight, and miniature bells hung from the book's corners, tinkling crisply with his movements.
"This..." Ian gently brushed his fingers over the cover, its texture feeling like silk yet it seemed as fluid as water, his face filled with disbelief. "Professor Morgan actually reads fairy tales?"
Ian was shocked, and rightfully so.
In his mind, Professor Morgan was the epitome of a traditional dark witch... a true Dark Witch. He simply couldn't imagine her tucked under the covers, engrossed in fairy tales.
'This book must be more than just a simple fairy tale collection,' Ian mused inwardly.
He carefully opened the first page, and a faint floral scent and forest aroma wafted out, and he felt as if a breeze had been trapped within the book, which was now blowing out from it. The book felt even more alive than the books in the magical world, and like magical books, of course, this one wasn't static either..
The book was filled with illustrations.
As Ian flipped through the pages, the illustrations began to move.
The first image depicted a dense, black forest, its towering trees reaching into the clouds, their shadows swaying gently. A little girl in a red cloak walked slowly through the fallen leaves.
She looked up, revealing a pair of crystal-clear eyes, smiled faintly at Ian, and continued on her way. At the same moment, a deep, gentle narrator's voice emerged from the book.
The voice was clear and magnetic, and it whispered into his ear like that of a seasoned storyteller: "Long, long ago, in a forgotten kingdom, there lived a girl named Red Riding Hood..."
This was truly a magical experience.
Ian was completely captivated. He flipped to the next page and discovered that the images had transformed into a three-dimensional projection. The characters in the story seemed to leap straight out of the paper.
He could hear wolves howling and feel leaves rustling in the wind. The sound effects were comparable to those of a high-end, six-figure speaker system; every detail was reproduced perfectly.
"This is too real..." Ian murmured to himself.
As he flipped through the pages, Ian pondered, 'Why would Professor Morgan hide such a book in this inconspicuous corner of the library, requiring specific spells to activate it?'
'Could it be... that she wanted me to learn something from this book? Even after leaving this castle, she's still assigning me homework?' The thought surfaced in Ian's mind.
The more he considered it, the more plausible it seemed.
Professor Morgan's thoughts were always so hard to guess.
She loved using unique methods to teach him, sometimes hiding layers of knowledge within knowledge itself, waiting for him to discover them.
Ian became much more serious thinking this. With renewed focus, Ian cradled the book and walked into the Stargazing Room adjacent to the Observatory. Outside the window, the magic-simulated night sky slowly rotated, its celestial display a breathtaking spectacle.
The room was located within the castle's highest tower.
The circular dome was studded with countless star crystals, each reflecting a different constellation and celestial orbit. Ancient star charts adorned the walls, and a faint lavender scent permeated the air.
The Stargazing Room was filled with various peculiar divination items.
At the center of the room stood a massive, rectangular table covered with divination tools: crystal balls, bronze mirrors, quills, and several parchment scrolls inscribed with prophecies. The most striking object was the telescope in the corner; its lens actually had an eye that blinked occasionally, giving it a charmingly whimsical appearance.
The telescope would occasionally turn by itself to see out the window, as if spying on the world beyond.
"There are so many fairy-tale elements in this castle. Is this all part of Professor Morgan's research on fairy tales?" Ian mused while flipping to the second page of the book again.
Clutching the book, he walked to the velvet armchair at the center of the Stargazing Room and settled into it.
The moment the book opened, a rainbow-colored light screen projected into the air, accompanied by immersive surround sound—the audio clarity rivaling the finest magic gramophones.
This time, a gentle female voice began narrating:
"Long, long ago, in the Glass Kingdom at the end of the rainbow..."
Ian's eyes widened. Within the floating light screen, countless tiny points of light coalesced into lifelike scenes: a crystal-clear castle, talking flowers, and a princess wearing glass slippers. Even more astonishingly, the text on the book's pages transformed in sync, each letter pulsating with life as they rearranged into new paragraphs.
He tentatively touched the projection of the "Glass Castle," feeling its icy-smooth surface. Instantly, the text on the page expanded into a detailed description:
[Glass Magic: A variant of high-level Transfiguration, capable of temporarily rendering any substance transparent.]
"This isn't just a fairy tale book," Ian murmured to himself.
Astonished, Ian flipped through the pages. Each fairy tale concealed profound magical principles: "The Three Little Pigwidgeons" demonstrated the varying strengths of defensive Spells; "Little Red Riding Hood" revealed the seven cardinal taboos of transfiguration; even "The Ugly Duckling" transformed into a brilliant metaphor for Bloodline Magic.
"It's basically a magic textbook disguised as a fairy tale!"
As he reached the chapter on "Sleeping Beauty," a wisp of pale purple smoke drifted from the page. When Ian touched one of the castle towers, the book immediately resonated with a melodious harp music.
The page on "Snow White" even included a detailed tutorial on how to brew a poisoned apple.
It felt almost too immersive.
Just as the book narrated Snow White's impending awakening by a kiss, the seven dwarves suddenly charged forward like madmen, wielding their mining tools to furiously scrub out the text. In an instant, they buried Snow White, coffin and all, underground.
[NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS]
Text appeared, tinged with the dark witch's characteristic teasing humor toward Ian.
Of course—
Judging by clever Ian's thinking, what Professor Morgan left behind was definitely not only meant to teach him magic.
The title, The Fairy-Tale Mystery, was probably the real theme.
Sure enough...
Only half of the book was fairy tales. The other half contained something else. Professor Morgan hadn't left this behind solely to teach him magic. The "fairy tale mystery" in the book's title was likely the core subject.
[Fairy tales are not merely stories for children. They are echoes of history, whispers from the magical world, and remnants of the hope we once held.]
From "Little Red Riding Hood" to "The Little Mermaid," each tale seemed to carry a hidden power, not just simple fantasy legends but fragments of actual events from magical history.
What followed were no longer animated images and narration but rather elegant yet rigorous analyses and research written in refined handwriting.
The author was none other than Professor Morgan.
[Fairy tales are not stories, but an alternate expression of history.]
Ian held his breath and continued reading. Professor Morgan's notes were as precise as a Potions recipe; each analytical paragraph was accompanied by precise magic data. She had traced the magical origins of 327 classic European fairy tales spanning nearly a millennium, discovering that 89% of them contained genuine historical events.
Ian's fingertips trembled slightly. Behind these words lay not just scholarly discoveries, but an almost fanatical obsession. Professor Morgan wasn't merely studying fairy tales; she was attempting to prove a grander proposition.
When he flipped to the chapter titled "Fairy Tale Magic Power Decay Curve," the pages suddenly unfolded into a massive magic chart. Countless luminous lines intertwined in the air, forming a steadily declining curve from the upper left corner to the lower right.
Beside it, in Morgan's sharp, signature handwriting, were annotations:
[Golden Age of Fairy Tale Creation: 900-1600 AD.]
[Magic Power Decay Inflection Point: 1692 AD, after the implementation of the International Statute of Secrecy.]
[Estimated time of complete disappearance: Late 20th century.]
These were clearly research summaries based on the books Ian had brought her earlier. Below the charts lay a series of complex magical mathematical formulas.
Ian could barely make out a few variables:
M (Magic power concentration), H (Hope Index), and T (time variable).
Morgan had even developed a complete mathematical model, repeatedly verifying it with seven different algorithms.
The final conclusion was highlighted in bold, large letters:
[According to my theoretical calculations: The final time window for the birth of a 'true fairy tale' will be 1990 ± 5 years.
After that, the magical world will enter the "Post-Fairy Tale Era"... an age without hope.]
Upon reading this, Ian was somewhat stunned.
1990—wasn't that the very era he was living in? He eagerly flipped to the final chapter: "The Law of Conservation of Fairy Tales and Hope." The ink in this section appeared fresher; clearly, Morgan had added this recently.
"After measuring the 'hope factor' in 327 samples, it has been confirmed that every fairy tale contains a specific intensity of positive magical fluctuation. This fluctuation is positively correlated with the collective consciousness of 'Expectation of Miracles.'"
One paragraph that had been repeatedly erased and rewritten stood out starkly.
"The most terrifying thing is not the disappearance of fairy tales, but the loss of belief in their possibility. When the last 'Muggle-born' stops making Stargazy Pie, the very foundation of magic itself will be shaken."
At the edge of the page, a messy arrow pointed to another astonishing discovery written in tiny letters:
"Addendum: Among first-year Hogwarts students in 1991, the proportion of those who 'completely believe in the existence of magical creatures' has plummeted to 67% (compared to 98% in 1990). Projections indicate this figure will fall below the critical 50% threshold by 2001."
Ian felt a wave of shock.
This wasn't just an academic study.
It was more like a warning letter from the magical civilization itself.
In her unique way, Professor Morgan had probed the subtle shifts occurring throughout the magical world, even within the seemingly whimsical realm of fairy tales.
Outside the window, the simulated starry sky had inexplicably turned a gloomy gray. Within the Observatory's Crystal Ball, miniature storms raged. Ian suddenly understood why Morgan had disguised such crucial research as a fairy tale book—in this age of unwavering rationality, perhaps only the form of a "fairy tale" could still preserve a flicker of curiosity and imagination.
He gently closed the book, the bell on the back cover ringing crisply. At that moment, a new line of gilded lettering shimmered across the spine:
"To the young wizard who discovered this secret: Remember... the most powerful magic has always been the courage to believe in 'possibility. —M"
Ian clutched the book tightly against his chest. 1990: the end of the age of fairy tales, and the dawn of a new era. He couldn't fathom what Morgan had foreseen.
But one thing was clear: He was standing at a turning point in history.
"If the final Fairy Tale comes to an end, does that mean the end of magic as well? I wonder how many more years Hogwarts, this last Fairy Tale, can endure."
Ian's thoughts were still immersed in Morgan's research.
"Why would magic decline as human belief weakens?"
'Magic clearly originated from the Creator and is one of the world's fundamental laws, so why is it so tightly bound to human belief?'
'Was this related to how fairy tales were born in the first place?'
He recalled Raven plunging the Lord of Creation's heart into magma in the black and white world, the Death God's twisted rules, and the vanishing fairytale magic. A terrifying hypothesis gradually formed in his mind: perhaps Raven's actions aren't just about reclaiming his humanity, but about saving fairy tales and magic from their impending doom?!
Before he could fully grasp this, a familiar sensation of detachment suddenly swept over him. His time in the Twilight Zone was up.
The surrounding scenery began to fade. The Observatory's Crystal Ball, the magic star chart, and even the copy of The Riddle of Fairy Tales in Ian's hands blurred gradually, as if their colors were being washed away.
Ian felt his consciousness being gently pulled away, as if an invisible pair of hands were lifting him off a painted canvas.
At the very last moment, he saw Professor Morgan's back at the entrance of the observatory; her black robes fluttered like raven feathers.
She seemed to say something, but her voice stretched into a strange hum, no longer distinguishable.
Darkness.
Then warmth.
Before he even opened his eyes, Ian smelled the sweet aroma of Honeydukes Sweetshop, heard the crackling of firewood in the fireplace, and... Albus Dumbledore's voice.
"My dear Titan," Dumbledore's gentle voice carried a hint of exasperation. "Fawkes is a companion, not an ingredient."
He was trying to reason with someone.
"But I often stew my own Phoenix," A girl replied, her tone defiant. "Add ginger slices to remove the gamey taste, simmer on low heat for three hours, and the feathers automatically turn into golden needle mushrooms!"
Amid this argument, Ian opened his eyes.
(End of Chapter)