Flipping through the materials he had purchased from the Muggle world, Dawn discovered that there was one passage in the history book from the Ravenclaw common room that contradicted them.
He pressed a fingertip lightly against the page, his gaze settling on the Latin passage in the section about ancient Rome and its cultural contributions.
[The Georgics, a four-book didactic poem completed by the ancient Roman poet Virgil at the request of Maecenas between 56 and 43 BC.]
That was what the Ravenclaw history book recorded.
Yet according to the materials Dawn had purchased in the Muggle world, the poem had been written between 37 and 30 BC.
The dates were clearly different!
Under normal circumstances, Dawn would naturally have trusted Ravenclaw's records more.
But when it came to a possible test left behind by one of the Founders, he now found himself believing that the Muggle version was the correct one.
"Could it be that what she wants is a young wizard with extensive knowledge, someone capable of distinguishing right from wrong without blindly trusting authority?"
Dawn had more or less figured out the standard his Founder had chosen.
After thinking about it for a moment, he did not rush.
He continued turning through the Latin books until he had confirmed that this was the only place where their contents differed from what the Muggle world recognized.
Only then did he snap the book shut.
"The Georgics..."
Muttering the title to himself, Dawn left the space created by the Secret Charm and returned to the Ravenclaw common room, where he stood before the towering bookshelves.
Several young wizards nearby cast curious glances at him.
Dawn paid them no attention. After a brief search, he really did find a spine bearing the three words The Georgics.
He immediately pulled it free.
After scanning the shelves once more and finding no other books related to agriculture or cultivation, he carried the book away.
He then returned to the Muggle world, purchased a translated edition, and began comparing the two.
It did not take long.
He discovered that the contents were almost identical, but the order in which they were arranged differed considerably.
After thinking for a moment, Dawn realized something. Following the dates given in Ravenclaw's history book, 56 to 43 BC, he turned to the corresponding pages.
Yet even after putting on the diadem and going through the pages several times, he still could not find anything useful.
Dawn tapped his fingers against the table. The pages rustled as he moved the book backward, stopping at pages 30 through 37, which corresponded to the dates recorded in the Muggle historical material.
[When the golden Pleiades sink into the sea and raise the waves, do not place your trust in the broad expanse of the ocean;]
[If, at such a time, you entrust your home to the deceitful winds, then cold rain and mist will come rushing against your face.]
[If, without following the seasons, you cover the fields with green grass too early, before the stars of the winter solstice have crossed to the center of the heavens,]
[then you will be left swinging your sickle to cut weeds, allowing them to choke the furrows. Do not expect to harvest full and heavy grains.]
Dawn frowned. Breathing in the faint, almost imperceptible scent of ink, he continued reading.
It was easy enough to discover that all seven of these pages contained poems related to the night sky.
"The night sky..."
Dawn muttered the words again and rose to his feet for the second time.
He returned to the Ravenclaw common room and, for the third time, began searching through the bookshelves.
But this time...
He found nothing related to it.
Even after gathering up all the books the other young wizards were currently reading, the result was no different.
"Don't tell me it was lost..."
After all, nearly a thousand years had passed.
Dawn's heart sank as he stared at the bookshelves, which contained no magical circuits and clearly lacked any means of protecting their collection or calling missing books back.
He clicked his tongue in irritation.
He knew that with Ravenclaw's wisdom, she would never have left behind only a single path pointing toward her legacy.
Yet at present, this was the only clue Dawn had managed to grasp.
After some thought, he turned and left Ravenclaw Tower, arriving at the Astronomy classroom, which was filled with magical telescopes and was likewise connected to the study of the night sky.
He narrowed his eyes and looked around.
Although he could see a few magical circuits, they were all exceedingly simple. Judging from the meanings of the Runes involved, there was nothing particularly unusual about them.
"Forget it. I'll keep reading. Perhaps I'll find another clue hidden in one of the other books and figure out what I'm supposed to do next."
Dawn sighed and left.
He returned to the Ravenclaw common room, gathered all the books inside, packed them up, and carried the entire collection away.
Then he passed the bronze eagle door knocker along the way. Remembering everything that had happened, he could not help sighing.
"Ravenclaw really was a wizard who loved leaving behind riddles."
By the time Dawn had moved all the books back into the space he had created, the sun had already passed its highest point and begun its slow descent toward the west.
He ate a little food with the golden cup, then, without rushing to read the books, left the space.
After turning a corner, he headed straight for the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor.
A stone statue blocked his path.
Dawn did not know today's password, and he could not be bothered to guess it again.
He simply used Apparition to break into the office and found the old headmaster sitting behind his desk.
"Long time no see, Headmaster."
He shook his slightly dizzy head and raised a hand in greeting. Then he narrowed his eyes and stared directly at the special pattern within Dumbledore's body.
For Dawn, the indirect approach of engaging someone in conversation to gather information had long since become outdated.
He intended to copy the pattern and directly examine what Dumbledore had been planning or doing over the past few days.
Inside the semicircular office, Dumbledore held a book in his hands. When he saw the boy emerge from the flames, his expression remained remarkably calm.
"Good afternoon, child. What brings you here?"
"Ah~ Nothing in particular, if I'm being honest."
Dawn walked over, his eyes settling on the book Dumbledore was reading.
"I'm just a little curious. How come you haven't tried to stop me from wandering around the castle these past few days?"
"Stop you? Of course I would like to stop you. But, child, the real question is whether you could actually leave the school as I wished."
Dumbledore's expression remained peaceful, and there was not a trace of hostility in his blue eyes.
He lowered his gaze back to the book.
"I cannot possibly get into a full-blown fight with you inside the castle.
Besides, during this period, you have already demonstrated through your actions that perhaps I can place a little more trust in you."
A little more trust?!
Hearing those words, Dawn narrowed his eyes, feeling exceedingly strange.
That really did not sound like the Dumbledore he knew.
After all, over the past two years, the old headmaster had repeatedly made his position clear. He had believed time and again that Dawn was beyond saving.
The more Dawn thought about it, the more out of place everything seemed.
After remaining silent for a moment, he continued, "Headmaster, what are you reading?"
"A book concerning souls and the Dark Arts."
Dumbledore did not hide the truth. He even tilted the book outward slightly to show Dawn its contents.
"Harry has part of Voldemort's soul inside him. I must find a way to remove it, so I am studying the relevant knowledge."
Dawn frowned and looked suspiciously at the old headmaster.
Was this old man being a little too straightforward?!
He chatted with Dumbledore for a few more moments, deliberately wasting time until he had completely memorized the special pattern.
Then he turned and left without hesitation.
"Close the door behind you."
The old headmaster's helpless voice came from behind him.
Dawn ignored him.
He intended to find a Muggle to use as material for his copying ability.
However, to prevent Dumbledore from tracking him when he Apparated, he decided to move farther away from the office first.
As a result...
He had barely passed several corners when, distracted by his thoughts, Dawn was caught completely off guard by a dark figure that slammed hard into his waist.
He hissed softly and staggered back two steps.
When he looked up, the irritation on his face immediately faded somewhat.
"Professor Flitwick?"
"Oh, Mr. Richter!"
The Ravenclaw Head of House rubbed his head. The bump he had gotten at the beginning of term had long since disappeared. He looked at Dawn with concern.
"I'm sorry. I was a little distracted just now and didn't notice what was in front of me. You weren't hurt, were you?"
"Ah, no."
Dawn glanced at the professor, who still did not reach his own height, and struggled to keep his expression from becoming impolite.
He considered his time precious and had no intention of lingering. After giving his Head of House a brief nod, he walked past him.
But then...
Flitwick suddenly called out to him.
"Wait, Dawn."
Dawn's brows drew together.
After thinking about it, however, he stopped.
"Is there something else, Professor?"
"Yes!"
The Ravenclaw Head of House waved his hands excitedly, his small body filled with enormous enthusiasm.
"Mr. Richter, the spells you've created are truly remarkable! So, could I trouble you to come and teach a class for the other young wizards? You can choose the time yourself!"
"Teach a class?"
Dawn was genuinely stunned. He pointed at himself in disbelief.
"You mean... me?"
Flitwick smiled and nodded.
Dawn was somewhat tempted, but his brows gradually furrowed.
This was far too abrupt!
It was true that, in the past, his Head of House had treated him somewhat better than the other professors.
But even so!
It had never reached the point where Flitwick would deliberately indulge him or allow him to interact with the other young wizards.
Sure enough...
That evil Dumbledore was secretly plotting something again, trying to frame the great humanitarian whom the Ministry of Magic itself had recognized!
Dawn had absolutely no reason to think this.
Yet for some reason, the white-bearded old man's sinister face was the first thing that flashed through his mind!
Just as the old headmaster remained wary of him, Dawn was equally biased against Dumbledore.
"Sorry, Headmaster. Thank you for the invitation, but I really don't have time lately."
Dawn refused without hesitation.
Although Professor Flitwick was disappointed, he understood.
After telling Dawn that he was welcome to come whenever he had the time, he nodded and took his leave.
Watching his Head of House walk away, Dawn narrowed his eyes and memorized every detail of his special pattern as well.
Then flames appeared.
In an instant, he vanished from the castle.
Poof!
Sand filled the sky.
The dry climate of Egypt remained unchanged.
As soon as Dawn materialized, he acted swiftly, seizing two Muggles and using them as material to copy Dumbledore and Flitwick. He then read their recent memories.
Scene after scene flashed through his mind.
Yet the result was completely normal!
Neither of them had been plotting anything against him, and their memories were perfectly continuous, without any sign of deletion or alteration.
"Strange..."
Dawn muttered to himself.
To be honest...
He had originally entertained another possibility.
Could some inexplicable World Correction have altered events connected to him again, causing the professors' attitudes toward him to improve so dramatically?
But now, it clearly was not the case.
Could it really be that he had simply been overthinking things?
Had the professors genuinely sensed the goodwill behind his actions of saving people?
Dawn could not make sense of it.
After thinking for a moment, however, he decided that from now on, he would simply be as cautious as possible while living at Hogwarts.
Although he had found a clue pointing toward Ravenclaw's legacy, it might not necessarily have anything to do with the statue.
It would be best to continue establishing his connection with the castle.
Poof!
Another sonic boom rang out.
Dawn's figure vanished into the blowing sand.
___________
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