To the Room of Requirement.

Dawn opened the pages of the fairy tale book.

[The Tales of Beedle the Bard] contained five stories. After reading through them once, Dawn found that this edition from two hundred years ago was not much different from the current version.

However, what caught his attention were the densely written notes on the parchment slips tucked inside.

He was curious—what secrets lay hidden within a fairy tale book that was stored inside a sealed box?

…….

“I have always known that fate differs from person to person—be it joy, or sorrow.”

After organizing the slips of parchment by page order, this was the first line Dawn read at the top of the stack.

He continued reading.

“In 1772, when I was seven years old, my father threw me the grandest birthday party of my life.”

“He invited every wizard in the town, and even used his connections to bring in the most popular band at the time—The Boiling Flames—to perform live at my party.”

“I happily asked him why this year’s celebration was so extravagant. My father forced a smile and said: because this year was special.”

“Special?”

“Forgive me for being so young back then—I couldn’t understand the bitterness beneath my father’s smile.”

“I was too immersed in the joy of being the center of attention, puffing out my chest and pretending to be grown-up as I chatted and laughed with the guests.”

“…This was the most wonderful time of my life. Even ten years later, I still believe that.”

“But life is like that. For every measure of joy, you must bear an equal measure of sorrow.”

“…”

“When I was eleven, I received my letter from Hogwarts.”

“But my father didn’t rejoice the way I did. He called me into his room, looked sorrowful, and told me—”

“My time was running out.”

“I didn’t understand. I thought it was an out-of-season joke to celebrate my acceptance.”

“But my father, with a heavy face, told me he was serious.”

“Then, as I sat quietly in confusion, he suddenly began explaining a kind of magic to me.”

“…It was called a blood curse. A dark enchantment passed down through bloodlines.”

“And I… yes, unfortunately, had awakened it.”

“My father told me that once infected with this curse, I would periodically transform into a mindless beast.”

“And as time passed, those transformations would become more frequent—until I completely lost all traces of my humanity.”

“…”

“I can’t even remember exactly how I felt at the time… but I imagine it must’ve been devastating.”

“I was only eleven. I had just received my Hogwarts letter. I dreamed of being the best Seeker in the world, leading the British team to Quidditch glory…”

“But now, it was all over—ruined by a ridiculous and absurd curse.”

“Why me?”

“I wanted to shout at my father—why not my elder brother? Why not my younger brother? Why only me?!”

“But when I saw the exhaustion and guilt in my father’s eyes, the words caught in my throat… and I swallowed them back.”

“I knew he had already done everything he could to give me the best.”

“…”

“Then I asked him—when did you realize the curse in my blood had awakened? And as I had suspected, he said it was that very same year, when I was seven.”

Blood curse?

Dawn rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

He knew about this kind of curse. In the original story, Voldemort’s last Horcrux—Nagini—had turned into a serpent because of one.

Having recently figured out the concept of permanent transformation, Dawn’s mind suddenly leapt—could a long-standing curse like this be related to natural magic?

He thought it likely.

But more than that, he was curious—why would the owner of the parchment tuck this diary into [The Tales of Beedle the Bard]?

Turning the first parchment sheet, Dawn continued reading.

“In 1776, a week before the start of term, my blood curse erupted for the first time.”

“It was worse than I imagined.”

“I could feel something gnawing at me—changing not just my body, but attacking my emotions and memories.”

“…I don’t remember clearly what happened next.”

“When I regained consciousness, it was the next day.”

“I saw my father’s worried face, my mother’s tear-streaked cheeks, and my brothers’ eyes filled with both concern and a trace of fear.”

“I suddenly became afraid. After experiencing it firsthand, all the mental preparation I had built up came crashing down.”

“After locking myself away for a long time, I asked my father—could he take a picture of me?”

“My father didn’t hesitate. An hour later, he snapped a photo of me in my school uniform, wand in hand.”

“Looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar face in the photo, I was momentarily stunned. Then I realized—”

“I absolutely could not ‘die’ like this. I could not ‘die’ as a beast!”

Pasted to the back of this parchment was a photo.

Dawn turned it over and stared.

The image was of a very young girl.

She had long, shining golden hair, and a blank expression. Her pale neck was tucked beneath the wide collar of a wizard’s robe, giving her an air of coldness and frailty.

Dawn slowly furrowed his brow.

He stared at the girl’s face and suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity.

As if… he’d seen her somewhere before.

But how could that be possible?

This was a witch from two hundred years ago!

He racked his brain but couldn’t recall ever meeting her, so he could only chalk it up to some kind of false memory and pressed the thought down.

“September 1st. I started school.”

“Headmistress Dilys Derwent was a kind person. She was not only the headmistress, but also a healer at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies.”

“When she heard about my situation, she personally approached me and offered free treatment. Although it couldn’t remove the curse, I could feel its influence easing somewhat.”

“However, because I carried the blood curse, Headmistress Derwent regretfully told me I couldn’t stay in a dormitory with the other students.”

“She would use her authority to create a private room for me on the fifth floor of Hogwarts Castle.”

“I told the headmistress it was no problem. In fact, living alone sounded far more enjoyable to me.”

Dawn’s eyes lit up instantly.

A private room, on the fifth floor of the castle… did that room still exist?

A sense of hitting the jackpot rose within him.

After all– He had endured Ravenclaw’s troublesome tower for long enough! Having a space of his own inside the castle was exactly what he had wished for!

________________

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