章 599: 0597 Recognise
'Remember to stay calm.'
Could it be that Professor Watson knows whose room this is? But why did he specifically urge them to stay calm? Even if this was Professor Dumbledore's new office, there was no need to solemnly urge them like this. Of course, for Harry, if this office belonged to Snape, that would indeed be shocking enough!
Finally, the brass doorknob finished turning, accompanied by a creaking sound. The tightly closed door slowly opened, and a short figure stepped into the office with an agile pace, then casually closed the door behind.
'A house elf?'
Harry blinked in disbelief. The mysterious person who entered the office with such ease was not one of Hogwarts' professors or staff, but a house elf, dressed in clothes that seemed several centuries out of date. Hermione shot Professor Watson a questioning glance and found that even he appeared momentarily taken aback by this unexpected development.
As Harry studied the peculiar elf more closely, he quickly discerned several unusual characteristics that set it apart from its kind.
Firstly, though the style of its clothes appeared quite vintage, they were impeccably tailored and well-coordinated, a far cry from the random, mismatched rags that Dobby wore. It perfectly aligned with wizarding fashion sensibilities, and moreover, the clothes it wore were also very clean without a single wrinkle or stain to ruin its appearance.
But even more remarkable than the elf's clothing elegance was its bearing and demeanor. In Harry's experience, nearly every house elf he had encountered showed a servile, flattering manner, their expressions showed either open or suppressed terror and fawning in the presence of wizards. Even Dobby was not entirely free from this deep-seated behavioral pattern. But this elf was completely different.
The elf seemed to be in a good mood. It kept its back straight as it walked towards the desk, not only smiling, but also humming a lighthearted, unfamiliar tune. In its hands, it carefully held an exquisitely crafted golden cup that glinted in the flickering candlelight.
"Professor Watson, it seems..." Hermione began, but her words trailed off as she observed the elf's peculiar behavior with rising bewilderment.
While Harry and Ron remained engrossed on the elf's every movement, Hermione had already focused in on the most crucial detail. The elf walked directly to the desk without sparing so much as a sidelong glance at the three of them standing few feet away. It was as if, to the elf's eyes, they simply did not exist.
Hermione found this guess too bizarre to face. She instinctively turned to Professor Watson, seeking clarification, only to see him staring at something with a solemn expression. Following his gaze, Hermione discovered that Professor Watson was looking at the golden cup in the elf's hand.
Inside and out, this elf exuded an air of being off.
As the elf drew near, a startled Ron stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to distance himself from the unsettling thing. Yet the elf paid no mind to the commotion, its blissful smile never wavered as it gently placed the golden cup filled with a shimmering purple liquid on the corner of the desk.
Its eyes skimmed around the room, surveying its surroundings with an evaluative gaze, before it walked to the window and carefully inspected the sill for any sign of dust or grime running a finger along the surface.
"It can't see us, can it?" Ron asked, looking at Professor Watson. If one still hadn't realized this point by now, that would be too stupid. "Is this some kind of spell you've cast to conceal our presence?"
Professor Watson offered no response to Ron's inquiry, seemingly lost in contemplation as he crouched down to examine the golden cup more closely, and his eyes narrowed in intense concentration.
"Dobby is knowing every elf in the castle, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby whispered and his voice was barely audible even in the oppressive silence of the room. "But Dobby has never been seeing this elf before..."
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but the words died in his throat as the blood drained from his face and his expression morphed into one of horror. Beside him, Ron and Hermione had matching expressions of disbelief at the scene unfolding before them.
This elf, whose owner was unknown still lightly hummed a cheerful tune. After confirming that the cleanliness of the room was satisfactory, it walked back to the desk from the windowsill. But as it did so, it passed directly through the body of Professor Watson, who was still engrossed in his examination of the Golden Cup.
What was even more shocking was that the elf began to tidy the messy surface of the desk, picking up and rearranging the various books and papers scattered on its surface - the very same objects that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been unable to touch or interact with in any way.
"It's a ghost!" Harry blurted out, his voice strangled with a combination of fear and awe. The scene of the elf passing through Professor Watson was really too shocking.
Besides a ghost, Harry couldn't think of any other possibility!
"Could it be..." Ron gasped, the blood draining from his face until it was ashen as freshly fallen snow. His fingers trembled uncontrollably as a terrible realization appeared in his mind. "Could it be that we've somehow stumbled into the world of the dead? Maybe that's why we can't touch anything in this room, and why the elf can't perceive our presence..."
Ever since they had first set foot in this weird room, a persistent sense of uneasiness had been tormenting Harry and the others' nerves subconsciously. Ron's scary guess only plunged them deeper into the abyss of existential dread. Even Hermione who was normally rational in the face of the unknown, felt a pulsing fear in her heart, feeling that all the ordinary objects around her were emitting an eerie aura.
The three of them subconsciously drew closer to Professor Watson. In this office, Professor Watson was the only one who could bring them a sense of security.
Phew...
Bryan straightened up and let out a soft sigh of relief.
Previously, when destroying that exquisite locket of Slytherin, Dumbledore had once taken out a book recording Hufflepuff's Cup. The golden cup in the picture in the book had the same kind of real magical runes at the base of the cup as Gryffindor's sword, Slytherin's locket, and Ravenclaw's diadem. However, the one in front of him did not.
Bryan did not doubt the authenticity of the cup before him. It was just that at this point in time, the four founders had not yet made any alterations to their respective legacies that could almost represent their identities.
"This is not some sort of ghostly world, and the elf in front of us is not a ghost either," Bryan said softly, his thoughts shifting away from the cup. "You can understand it as us being under the influence of an illusion spell in this room. This office is showing us a past event."
Professor Watson's words were like a balm to the ragged nerves of the young wizards, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief at this revelation. An illusion spell, no matter how scary, was infinitely preferable to being trapped in than some terrifying netherworld inhabited by the dead.
"Professor Watson, I'm so sorry," Hermione stammered, her cheeks flushing with guilt and embarrassment. She felt that the three of them, along with Dobby and Freodom, falling under an illusion spell was her responsibility, and she even implicated Professor Watson. "It's all my fault that we've blundered into this mess and dragged you along with us. Do you have a way to break the illusion spell in the room?"
"We can try," Bryan said calmly, staring into the void. The magic left over for thousands of years is not flawless. A glimmer flashed in his light purple eyes, as if he had already seen through the illusion. "But I think it's best we don't hurry to attempt it. The original owner of this office obviously wants to show us something valuable. Leaving now would undoubtedly be a waste of this fateful encounter."
'A fateful encounter?'
Ron smacked his lips at Professor Watson's words. Secretly, he thought that there was nothing fateful about their current predicament, which seemed more like a waking nightmare than any sort of chance encounter with destiny. But Professor Watson had slipped into lecture mode, and his thirst for knowledge clearly overrode any leaning to a hasty retreat. So, Ron could only swallow his objections with a resigned shrug.
Hermione, on the other hand, seemed energized by the prospect of unraveling this new mystery. If Professor Watson did not consider their safety to be in immediate jeopardy, she was more than willing to let her curiosity off the leash. After all, they had practically been handed a front-row seat to an untold chapter in Hogwarts' history. It would be positively wrong not to take advantage of such an opportunity!
'And who exactly was the owner of this office?'
Hermione couldn't help pondering this question. And the house elf in front of them, busily tidying up the desk with incomparably bright eyes, made Hermione even more curious.
This elf exuded an air of freedom, not at all like the elves in the kitchen and outside who took pleasure in being enslaved. How did this elf's employer achieve all this?
Hermione observed the elf with full concentration, wanting to figure out the secret of this elf whose behavior was natural but bizarre for a house elf. However,
Click!
Without warning, the handle of the office door was turned again!
The person who walked in was a lady. This middle-aged lady had a slightly plump figure, but the gentleness revealed in her face possessed a peculiar power that could soothe people's palpitations. Moreover, her red eyes were as bright as stars. Even Professor Dumbledore with his piercing blue eyes or Professor Watson with his light purple eyes containing magic could not compare!
This middle-aged witch did not appear alone. Behind her followed another witch who looked much younger but whose expression appeared very tired.
The moment they saw this younger witch, Harry and Ron's eyes instantly flickered.
Up until now, the most outstanding and alluring women Harry had seen were the group of Veela at the Quidditch World Cup finals. However, compared to the appearance and temperament of the young witch in front of him, Harry felt that group of Veela were simply vulgar to the extreme!
But...
Harry furrowed his brows. He stared at the two witches who walked in, feeling a sense of familiarity at first glance, as if he had seen them before.
"Who are they?" Ron asked Hermione in a low voice. Professor Watson's earlier words had already revealed some information. The office they were in probably belonged to a former Hogwarts staff member, and they should be very famous. Like Harry, Ron also felt a sense of familiarity. He turned to look at Hermione, and upon seeing her, Ron's eyebrows immediately shot up!
Beside him, Hermione's brown eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. Her wide-open mouth looked funny, but at the same time, it showed her current shock!
"What's the matter? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost!" Ron asked nervously. But he didn't need Hermione to answer, because the following conversation was enough to make him fully understand the reason for Hermione's expression of surprise and fear, and also made his own mood sink into almost the same state!
"Good afternoon, Kiki," the middle-aged witch who entered the office first said with a smile and her voice was very gentle. "I was just looking for you, Kiki. I thought of a few new dishes that I plan to add to the children's daily menu. But before that, perhaps you could give me some advice..."
"Good afternoon, Lady Hufflepuff, Lady Ravenclaw," the house elf called Kiki stood by the chair and bowed slightly, saying politely, "It would be my very great pleasure to serve you, Lady Hufflepuff. Truly, you do me too much honor."
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章 600: 0598 Love
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared in utter astonishment as they watched the slightly plump, middle-aged witch with soft, kind facial features walk back to her wooden desk. Beside the desk, a beautiful witch with icy blue eyes full of wisdom conjured an elegant wooden stool with a wave of her wand and sat upon it gracefully. The trio wore expressions of complete shock and disbelief, as if they had seen a ghost materialize before their very eyes!
"Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff--" Hermione stammered and her voice was barely above a whisper.
She stumbled backwards uncontrollably in the stunned silence. Almost the instant she saw the two witches, she recognized their identities. After all, even a full millennium later, moving portraits and detailed tapestries depicting these legendary witches still decorated the halls of Hogwarts. But Hermione's mind buzzed with the sheer impossibility of what her eyes saw.
'How could such an absurd, inconceivable thing be happening right before me?!'
Harry felt his head buzzing and spinning, as if a swarm of bees had sat in his skull. After over three years at Hogwarts, it would have been utterly ridiculous if he hadn't at least heard the names of Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. After all, the very Houses bearing their names were mentioned every day in the castle. But this--
This was beyond anything Harry could have ever thought of. Two of the founders of Hogwarts, living and breathing, present in the flesh right before his disbelieving eyes. At this, Harry's thoughts were crushed to a screeching halt. He thought that even if Voldemort himself suddenly appeared before him, sneering with malice, he could not possibly feel this level of shock.
"I must be dreaming--" Ron muttered under his breath, his face was pale as he shook his red head slowly from side to side. His wide eyes inadvertently fell upon Professor Watson's expression.
Ron felt another jolt of shock course through him as he saw that the professor still had an infuriatingly calm and composed face.
'These were Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw themselves, in the flesh!'
Ron thought it was utterly unimaginable for anyone, no matter how powerful or influential, to remain so completely unfazed and calm in the face of such situation. Unless...
"They're not real, right, Professor Watson?" Ron blurted out loudly, unable to contain himself. Hermione turned towards him in alarm and hastily clamped a hand over his mouth and yanked him backwards.
"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione hissed furiously in his ear, her voice was low and trembling with intensity despite her hushed tone. She shot Harry a glare where he stood rooted in place still staring at her blankly in confusion. "Those are the great Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw themselves! Show some respect, for Merlin's sake!"
Illusion magic -- that was Professor Watson's calm explanation.
In that moment, the familiar light of understanding burst to life in Hermione's racing mind. Of course, this office clearly belonged to none other than Helga Hufflepuff herself. Although Hermione remained utterly perplexed as to the underlying reasons, it seemed that the great Lady Hufflepuff had left behind this amazing enchantment within her office, granting them an unparalleled chance to glimpse the true faces of these two legendary witches!
'What an incredible significant experience this was!'
Hermione thought giddily, barely able to contain her excitement.
She took in the sight of the two legendary witches standing before her with captivated fascination, and her eyes shone with pure admiration and awe. An overwhelming swell of gratitude began to build in Hermione's chest as she reflected on how passionately she had insisted they investigate this ominous secret passageway. Never had she imagined that her persistent curiosity would lead to a discovery of such magnitude!
Bryan turned his head slowly and his eyes swept over the three stunned teenagers who had unconsciously backed up against the rough stone wall. Dobby and Freedom, the two house-elves, stood quietly to the side, and their bulging eyes were wider than ever.
"They are indeed exactly who you believe them to be, Ron," Bryan said with a small smile. "This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that has fallen into our laps. As such, I must ask that from this moment forward, you all remain completely silent, regardless of what you may hear--"
"You appear utterly exhausted, my dear Lady Ravenclaw--" A high, squeaky voice suddenly came up, cutting off Bryan before Harry, Ron and Hermione had time to promise.
It was Kiki, the house-elf who had been standing obediently beside Hufflepuff. She spoke without any hint of the timid servility one would expect from her kind.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione instantly sucked in sharp breaths and held them, staring at the unfolding scene.
"Shall I prepare a special invigorating elixir for you?" Kiki offered proudly gazing towards Hufflepuff, whose kind face had a gentle smile. "It's based on Lady Hufflepuff's latest alchemical formula. I assure you; the effects are truly remarkable and the flavor is simply divine!"
Bryan gazed down at the tiny elf with a strange, pensive expression. He marveled inwardly at how extraordinary this particular house-elf was.
Kiki had clearly managed to completely shed the innate servility and submissiveness that Herpo had cursed into the very souls of her species. From his own studies, Bryan knew all too well how immensely difficult it was for a house-elf to break free from that magical shackle.
Dobby and Freedom also looked at Kiki in utter disbelief, and their jaws were almost hanging open. They couldn't imagine that one of their ancestors actually dared to address the renowned Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw in such a familiar, almost 'equal' manner. It boggled their minds and challenged their entire worldview.
"One of Helga's remarkable new concoctions? I would be delighted to sample it. Thank you, Kiki," Ravenclaw replied, her icy blue eyes flashing with a cold, detached light of pure rationality. Even her gracious smile held a distinct undercurrent of coldness.
"Pardon me, Lady Ravenclaw, but I shall need a few moments to brew the elixir," Kiki squeaked. "I'm afraid I have not yet fully mastered the details of the preparation process."
With that, the tiny elf turned on her back and walked out of sight, leaving a flabbergasted audience in her trail. Helga and Rowena watched her go with expressions of fond amusement.
As the door shut behind the house-elf with a soft thump, Rowena's eyes glazed over slightly, as if her mind had transported her far away. She thought back to the scene witnessed in the underground temple on that small island, then slowly turned to face her dear friend.
When she finally spoke, Rowena's melodic voice was heavy with a complex mix of emotions. "You've achieved something truly remarkable with Kiki, Helga. To guide her in throwing off the chains of that innate submissiveness..."
"Every sapient being, no matter how small, possesses a soul that yearns for freedom, Rowena. It is an inextinguishable spark that even the most potent magic cannot completely overpower," Helga replied gently and her eyes lingered on the closed door. "So long as we nurture that spark with love, it can grow into a brilliant, unquenchable fire - restoring their souls to their intended radiance."
'Love?' The corner of Bryan's mouth twitched. The notion that love possessed the supreme power to conquer any obstacle had always been one of Dumbledore's most troublesome beliefs, in his opinion. As a man of science and logic, he still did not believe that pure love could override the absolute laws of magic and nature.
Hermione, however, found herself deeply intrigued by the exchange. Kiki's extraordinariness, combined with Helga Hufflepuff's stirring words about uplifting house-elves through love resonated in her heart and mind. Of the group of time-travelers (in a way), she was by far the one most fascinated by the concept. She turned and examined Freedom thoughtfully for a long moment and a speculative gleam flashed in her eyes.
"Love..." Rowena repeated the word slowly, as if tasting it. An uncharacteristic flicker of immense sadness rippled across her facial features before vanishing behind a curtain of careful control.
This was unusual.
The Rowena Ravenclaw that Bryan had witnessed on the trip to Azkaban was the most rational witch he had ever seen. Her emotions were almost extinguished beneath her extraordinary wisdom. What could have possibly caused such an intense fluctuation in her composure?
Helga had also clearly noticed her friend's distress. She reached out a comforting hand and laid it gently on Rowena's arm. When she spoke, her normally cheery voice was tinged with concern and understanding.
"You still haven't told Godric, have you?"
It was more of a statement than a question.
Ravenclaw smiled then showing a heartbreaking expression filled with endless sorrow and unimaginable loneliness. On her face, it was a gut-wrenching sight that threatened to bring tears to the eyes.
When she finally responded, unshed tears glistened in Rowena's eyes. "Helga... you know as well as I how precarious Hogwarts' existence remains in this world. Those stubborn, close-minded fools on the Royal Wizards Council, along with the Old Pureblood Houses, resent our efforts to bring magical education to all. They tolerate our school only out of fear of our combined might."
Rowena paused, taking a deep breath and continued.
"But in their hearts, they have never abandoned their insidious goal of tearing down these walls we have raised - of jealously hoarding the gift of magic for themselves alone once more. The fanatics among them would seize any excuse to reignite the fires of war against us.
And even the conservative factions, who begrudgingly allow Hogwarts to stand for now, plot against us in the shadows. One reason is they hope that after the four of us disappear from this world, if Hogwarts does not have outstanding successors, then they will take practical action.
The second is that we have deceived them by making our families maintain opposing stances. If the Gryffindor family and the Ravenclaw family develop a closer connection than of friendship, it will undoubtedly stimulate their tense nerves, and war may come immediately."
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw...
Harry and the others listened in stunned silence, barely daring to breathe. Nobody had ever heard even a whisper of this tear-jerking story - not in any of the wizarding history books they had read over. Even Hermione, with her encyclopedic knowledge, could recall not a single mention of the ill-fated love between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
Bryan pursed his lips slightly. He was not particularly surprised by this matter. In the memories he had witnessed during the journey to Azkaban, there had been some exposed clues about the subtle feelings between the two. However, a sense of admiration still rose from his heart.
The wizarding era a thousand years ago was much more hostile and closed off than it was a thousand years later. From what Ravenclaw said, it seemed she intended to cut off her emotions and perhaps ties too with Gryffindor to ensure that war would not happen, allowing Hogwarts, which passed on magic to young wizards of Muggle blood, to continue to exist!
Helga sighed heavily and her warm eyes held unshed tears of her own. When she finally spoke, her voice was rough with emotion. "But Godric... surely won't care about these things—"
"Yes," Rowena interrupted, showing a sad smile. "And that is precisely what I fear! You know Godric as well as I... he is a man of passion, of conviction. He would gladly march into the jaws of war, to defend our love."
She laughed then that came as a bitter, broken sound empty of humor. "But don't you see? That reckless courage goes against every ideal we have struggled to uphold! If we were to reignite the terrible flames of war, we four would emerge unscathed, it is true. But the children... those precious students whose hopes and futures we hold in our hands..."
"Their Pureblood families would recall them away behind the warded walls of their manors to fill their heads with poison against us. Those poor, brilliant Muggleborn children would be left defenseless as their magical homes fell to ruin and they were dragged back to the Muggle world in chains!
I cannot, just because of 'love'..."
The vehemence in Rowena's raised voice was startling in its intensity.
"Because of 'love', I cannot be selfish...no matter how zealously my heart yearns to cast aside all pretense and damn the consequences. How could I ever live with myself - how could I ever find joy, even in Godric's arms - if our love spelled the doom of generations of youths who should have passed through these halls?"
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