"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying..."

Nearly Headless Nick paused for half a second, speaking with a somewhat restrained and gentle tone.

"My dear, I believe you have mistaken me for someone else—or perhaps you should be joining the party?"

"There are over three hundred ghosts from all over the country here, and over a hundred Gryffindor students. If all goes well, a few formal professors will come when they hear the news. This is a rare occasion—"

Erina looked around the scene with great interest.

The underground classroom was packed with hundreds of milky white, translucent figures, most of whom were floating and dancing in the central dance floor, accompanied by the sad and melodious singing of the sirens. The Gryffindor students were carrying pumpkin lanterns, moving curiously and carefully around the venue, with magically enhanced orange candle flames surrounding them to dispel the cold.

Erina tapped her finger on her lips and asked in a cute tone.

"If, I mean if—this respectable gentleman, if they found another name on the cake, or if someone at this moment suddenly gave a boring lecture about Muggle history in the center of the venue. After the party, when they return to their respective social circles, how far will those absurd jokes eventually spread?"

"This is my five-hundredth deathday party. Don't you think this prank is a bit much?"

Nearly Headless Nick's expression gradually turned cold, and he said coldly with a hint of anger.

"If you want to learn that special Transfiguration magic, you don't have to coerce me in this way. After this party is over, I will directly tell Mr. Dumbledore the relevant content, and he will teach you himself—"

"Magic? Grow taller? Oh, no, no, no... You misunderstand."

Erina playfully breathed out, watching her breath form a puff of mist in front of her.

"I've only just turned twelve. Why should I worry about these distant things... Besides, there are too many Transfiguration masters in Hogwarts now. Once you have a general direction, deriving more advanced magic is just a matter of time. How could I possibly put on such a grand performance for a technique that will be developed sooner or later?"

"...Then what do you want?" Nick frowned.

"Hmm, let me think—"

Erina blinked thoughtfully and said slowly.

"First of all, could you squat down or sit down a little? It's tiring to keep looking up to talk. Also, if you must ask me what the purpose of doing this is, or what I want..."

She looked at the ghost sitting down in the chair beside her and smiled slightly.

"I want you—Mr. Cromwell."

"Oh, Merlin! I'll say it again, I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know this Thomas Cromwell you're talking about, or any Earl of Essex—Merlin above, this is ridiculous!"

Nearly Headless Nick laughed in exasperation, waving his hand violently, his head wobbling on his neck.

"Today is my five-hundredth deathday party, and everyone here knows who I am. You can ask anyone..."

"That's right, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, died on October 31, 1492—everyone knows that you maintain the posture of your last moment before death, but I have a question that I've been pondering for a long time."

Erina looked Nick up and down, asking quite sincerely.

"Ruffs, doublets, breeches... Were these kinds of outfits already around in the time of Henry VII? I thought this style only became popular after Henry VIII strengthened the noble class and during the reign of Elizabeth I. As a nobleman living in the early Tudor dynasty, you must have been a remarkable trendsetter in your lifetime?"

"Ghosts can change their clothes, I just admire..." Nearly Headless Nick said stiffly.

"But only forward, not after their death—After losing their physical body, ghosts cannot understand the details of fabrics on the body. As far as I know, clothes that have never been worn should not work, or why don't you try changing into something else?"

Erina drew out her wand and conjured a set of Hanfu in mid-air, casually glancing at Nick.

Before arriving at the deathday party today, she had done her homework thoroughly.

Ghosts can be roughly divided into two components—body and clothing.

The former mostly depends on their state before they became ghosts, while the latter comes from their obsession.

The clearer the thinking of a ghost, the easier it is to freely control and adjust their daily dress, but this is only limited to loading corresponding fragments from memory, rather than inserting new elements. At least that's the information Erina got.

According to Nearly Headless Nick's "official deathday," Henry VIII had just been born in 1492.

This is like Nie Xiaoqian appearing in front of Ning Caichen wearing a cheongsam. Although, strictly speaking, the contrast is not that exaggerated, under rigorous investigation, it will still present some strange inconsistencies.

"Of course, you can say that these clothes started to become popular in the era of Henry VII..."

Erina looked at the silent Nick, dismissed the illusion, and continued.

"During the Tudor dynasty, there were three ways to execute criminals: hanging, burning, and beheading, corresponding to commoners, nobles, and heretics respectively. I carefully consulted the documents on my dad's side. In 1492, England was still under the control of the Roman Church. Even if you were executed as a nobleman, don't you think this date is too inappropriate?"

"Does the king have to deliberately pick a day to execute someone?"

Nearly Headless Nick took a deep breath, his voice a little hoarse.

"Halloween, Christmas, Easter... Who would issue and execute execution orders at these times? The ubiquitous festive decorations and arrangements would not let people forget these special days, not to mention—"

Erina took out a black cross from her chest and gently stroked it, winking slyly.

"As the only day each year when wizards can freely mingle in the Muggle world, it's a brave decision to execute a wizard at this time. What's even more surprising is that from imprisonment to sentencing to execution, it took less than a day, an astonishingly high efficiency—Aren't the participants afraid of losing their heads for executing a nobleman so hastily?"

"There are always exceptions..." Nearly Headless Nick said painfully.

"Perhaps, but what I want to say at this moment is something else—"

Erina shrugged nonchalantly, held up a finger, and looked at Nick meaningfully.

"Edmund Locard once said: Wherever a man goes, he leaves traces."

"If you really were active before 1492, then you should be able to find physical traces of 'Sir Nicholas' everywhere—traces that will not be forgotten, will not be edited, will not be confused by stimulation, and will not be misled like human witnesses. It is factual evidence, and physical evidence does not fabricate and does not completely disappear."

"Through some wonderful, insignificant channels, I found that your traces in the magical world don't seem to be so reliable."

Erina's eyes flickered, and she explained vaguely.

As the Goblin Queen of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, she can easily mobilize and browse all of Gringotts' data—those internal accounts are considered relatively reliable data, and they are also one of the few pure lands that wizards could not previously set foot in.

Almost no wizard can live normally in the magical and non-magical society without contacting the banking system.

"Of course, this can only deduce that the identity of 'Sir Nicholas' is questionable, but it cannot determine who you are."

As Erina spoke, the little silly hair on her head swayed triumphantly from side to side.

"Ahem, in fact, it's thanks to the hints you gave, Mr. Nick."

"Me?" Nick frowned even tighter, "I don't remember when I said those nonsense—"

"At the opening banquet last year, the Gryffindor table," Erina said, her eyes twinkling.

"After the Sorting, when Harry, Hermione and a group of new students started eating, you said, 'I haven't eaten anything for almost four hundred years'—I believe Granger's memory, you said four instead of five."

"Four hundred and ninety-nine years, is also almost four hundred years... Miss Kaslana."

Nick's expression gradually relaxed, looking at Erina curiously, and gently pointed out the loopholes in her words.

"That's right, but that gave me a very important hint—"

Erina nodded quickly, took out a thick book from her chest, and spread it out on her lap.

"This made me realize why I couldn't find any traces of you during the time of Henry VII. That's because the initial time anchor was chosen incorrectly—using four hundred years as the basis for tracing, then the time should cover the period of 1492-1592. And once I moved my gaze to Henry VIII, the period of Elizabeth I, a certain name became too conspicuous."

She began to flip through the pages quickly, explaining in a slow and unhurried tone.

Finally, she stopped.

"Thomas Cromwell," Erina held up the book and said in a low voice, "Henry VIII's chief minister, sentenced to be beheaded by Henry VIII in 1540, died after nearly half an hour of torture with a blunt axe—"

Erina's performance did not receive the response she expected.

"So what? This is just a coincidence."

Nearly Headless Nick said calmly, "In our era, such unfortunate things happened occasionally. Not all executioners were very skilled. Besides this unfortunate Mr. Cromwell, there were many similar situations."

"Oh, then the coincidences between you and Mr. Cromwell may be a bit too many..."

Erina flipped the book and pushed it in front of Nearly Headless Nick, reading softly.

"During Thomas Cromwell's tenure, he assisted Henry VIII in completing the transformation of British modern society. His main achievements were: presiding over and drafting a series of decrees such as the Act of Supremacy, allowing Britain to break away from the Church and become a monarchical country with independent sovereignty; promoting the legal circulation of the English Bible in Britain, promoting the birth of Protestantism, and dissolving monasteries on a large scale to fill the national treasury; and, the most talked about in folk tales..."

Erina glanced at the ghost beside her, her eyebrows gently twitching.

"He successfully helped Henry VIII bring down the Duke of Norfolk and Queen Anne Boleyn, and sentenced Anne Boleyn to death on charges of adultery, incest, treason, counterfeiting, attempted murder of the royal family... Oh, and witches—to be beheaded with a long sword. And the most interesting point is—she was actually a witch."

"If I remember correctly," Erina murmured thoughtfully, "her portrait hangs in Hogwarts Castle, probably outside the Great Hall, oh, also on the third or fourth floor corner—that's natural, after all, she was a queen."

As she spoke, Erina waved her wand in the air, reflecting several images from her memory.

(Image click to expand—→)

"Sir Nicholas, look, isn't it exactly the same as the portrait in the book?"

"...So what does this prove?" Nick sighed softly.

"Only magic can defeat magic—perhaps that's not entirely accurate, but when facing a powerful witch queen, the wisest approach is obviously to turn to another wizard. In addition, the Sorting Hat happens to have a little bit of an impression of the name Thomas Cromwell—students with the characteristics of all three Houses are rare..."

Erina said, taking out another book from her chest.

*Hogwarts Ghosts*, which she had borrowed from the Hogwarts library not long ago.

"In 1492, Sir Nicholas met Ms. Grieff in the Royal Park, who was convinced that he could help her correct her crooked teeth, but Nicholas's attempt backfired and made her grow fangs."

"Cromwell obeyed Anne Boleyn in his early years, who believed that he would help her consolidate her power and promote religious reform in a more radical direction—but Cromwell betrayed Anne and framed her with a large number of crimes."

Erina pointed to the words on the two books, comparing them one after another and reading softly.

"Nicholas shouted all night in prison... Cromwell wrote letters to Henry VIII nonstop during his detention... A priest came to the cell to comfort him... The old nobles hoped to force Cromwell to submit... Chopped forty-five times... The execution took a long time... Do you think these stories are wonderful and coincidental enough?"

"...There are really too many loopholes—"

Nearly Headless Nick shook his head, his eyes turned to Erina, his expression no longer as frivolous and amiable as before.

"So, there's one last unsolved question. Even if I am 'Cromwell', why would I hide my name, and even go to great lengths to fabricate a non-existent person? This doesn't make sense."

"It's very simple, to completely bury that past—"

Erina smiled slightly, closed the two books, and said softly.

"From the fourteenth century to the end of the fifteenth century, wizards and Muggles engaged in nearly two centuries of secret war. And if the way this war ended was not a truce, but wizards interfering in the internal affairs of the non-magical world, comprehensively expelling the influence of the Church worldwide, and then unilaterally concealing themselves, then it would be different..."

"This means that wizards can achieve their goals by holding non-magical political power—this is Pandora's Box."

"The war that lasted for two centuries was finally won by... the magical world. This is the long-standing confidence of some old pure-blood families, but you, as the most important hub, chose to hand over the future to Muggles..."

In Hogwarts, the four Houses each possess their own unique character.

As the resident ghosts of each House, they are equivalent to the epitome of each House—in the long years, more than a thousand ghosts have graduated from Hogwarts, but only four are qualified to become the symbol of the House in the castle.

True Gryffindors correspond to true courage.

Undoubtedly, Thomas Cromwell, who took on all the infamy, ended the war, and ushered in a new era, can be said to be the wizard in the past millennium of the magical world who perfectly interpreted courage and hope.

"Those were... many years ago. Miss Kaslana, you are the smartest witch I have ever met."

After a long silence, Nearly Headless Nick sighed.

"Then you should know the importance of making this performance end perfectly... We cannot control the future. If wizards are above humans, then we may never see the prosperous age outside now. The war is over. This was the unanimous decision of all the top wizards that year: we will become watchers, and work together to bury the ambition of magic."

"Then, I'm sorry..."

Erina shook her finger and said softly.

"The war has started again, this is a continuation of the last war. Hogwarts is plating the outline of magic with the brilliance of science, to prove that magic can be reached by everyone—a new era should begin."

"That is the future that belongs to you..." Nearly Headless Nick said calmly.

"That's right. But—"

Erina nodded quite seriously, winking cunningly.

"As you can see, I just celebrated my twelfth birthday last month. As the pioneer who single-handedly promoted the modern British political and social structure, industrial and commercial innovation, legal system, and religious reform... Are you really not worried that, in this final relay process, I will fail those who sacrificed along the way due to lack of experience?"

"Think about it carefully, Sir Nicholas—"

Erina raised her face, revealing a pure smile like an angel.

"Before the end of tonight's banquet, but preferably sooner, Gringotts' press conference on the asset verification and will entrustment of 'Thomas Cromwell', the distribution of manuscripts from dozens of mainstream media, there are so many things waiting for me to deal with."

"Gringotts?" Nearly Headless Nick was slightly stunned.

"Oh, I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself."

Erina stood up and walked towards the underground classroom, saying casually.

"After you've made up your mind, you can also call me—Your Majesty the Queen. The Goblin Queen who controls magical finance."

———

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Hooray! Super big chapter!