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She nodded but did not speak.

“The ghost of Ravenclaw Tower?”

“That is correct.”

Her tone was not encouraging.

“Please, I need some help. I need to know anything you can tell me about the lost diadem.”

A cold smile curved her lips.

“I am afraid,” she said, turning to leave, “that I cannot help you.”

“WAIT!”

He had not meant to shout, but anger and panic were threatening to overwhelm him. He glanced at his watch as she hovered in front of him. It was a quarter to midnight.

“This is urgent,” he said fiercely. “If that diadem’s at Hogwarts, I’ve got to find it, fast.”

“You are hardly the first student to covet the diadem,” she said disdainfully. “Generations of students have badgered me—”

“This isn’t about trying to get better marks!” Harry shouted at her, “It’s about Voldemort—defeating Voldemort—or aren’t you interested in that?”

She could not blush, but her transparent cheeks became more opaque, and her voice was heated as she replied, “Of course I—how dare you suggest—?”

“Well, help me then!”

Her composure was slipping.

“It—it is not a question of—” she stammered. “My mother’s diadem—”

“Your mother’s?”

She looked angry with herself.

“When I lived,” she said stiffly, “I was Helena Ravenclaw.”

“You’re her daughter? But then, you must know what happed to it.”

“While the diadem bestows wisdom,” she said with an obvious effort to pull herself together, “I doubt that it would greatly increase you chances of defeating the wizard who calls himself Lord—”

“Haven’t I told you, I’m not interested in wearing it!” Harry said fiercely. “There’s no time to explain—but if you care about Hogwarts, if you want to see Voldemort finished, you’ve got to tell me anything you know about the diadem!”

She remained quite still, floating in midair, staring down at him, and a sense of hopelessness engulfed Harry. Of course, if she had known anything, she would have told Flitwick of Dumbledore, who had surely asked her the same question. He had shaken his head and made to turn away when she spoke in a low voice.

“I stole the diadem from my mother.”

“You—you did what?”

“I stole the diadem,” repeated Helena Ravenclaw in a whisper. “I sought to make myself cleverer, more important than my mother. I ran away with it.”

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