In a vast, dilapidated hall, Hoffa awoke from his state of despondency, staring at himself in disbelief.
Ossivia, too, regarded him with a peculiar expression. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. This is your own ability. Its effects and potential are for you to develop and understand on your own. All I can do is guide you."
Upon hearing this, Hoffa entered a meditative state without hesitation.
After all, meditation was nothing but beneficial. No matter the circumstances, meditation came first.
In his meditative state, his mind gradually began to recover.
Slowly, his life's goals became clearer: to find the Forbidden Library, to locate the Half-Blood King, and to protect the friends around him.
Finally, an hour later...
Hoffa rose slowly, his consciousness returning to normal. He no longer felt depressed or hollow.
In that moment, he was profoundly shaken.
Glancing at his watch, he realized that the immense vitality he had just summoned had consumed less than half of his magical energy. His physical strength was also remarkably intact.
However, the strange side effects had caught him completely off guard. Why had he fallen into an inexplicable mental blankness? Why had he just spouted so much incomprehensible nonsense?
Hoffa still couldn't make sense of it.
"Are you alright now?" Ossivia asked, her voice echoing softly through the empty hall.
Hoffa looked up to find that night had fallen. Outside, a large full moon hung in the sky, its light streaming through the tall windows. The moonlight cast intricate, distorted shadows of the house crests' beast carvings on the walls and floor.
"Yes," Hoffa nodded.
Ossivia drew her wand and tapped Hoffa's tattered clothing.
"Good as new."
The tears and scratches on his clothes vanished instantly. Extending her arm like someone who was blind, Ossivia said, "Take me to the other side."
Hoffa frowned at her outstretched arm. "Can't you walk by yourself?"
"The Mirror World is magic that blurs the line between reality and illusion. After my father's death, I lost most of my ability to see the real."
Everything in this hall is faint and indistinct to me," she said calmly.
Hoffa was stunned. "What? You're saying you can't see?"
"That's right," Ossivia replied, her tone steady. "That's also why I came to you. When I was your age, my Transfiguration professor told me that young wizards with heightened spiritual awareness could often see things invisible to ordinary people."
"Merlin's beard," Hoffa groaned, grabbing her arm.
"Was it Dumbledore who told you that?"
"No, it was my professor at Durmstrang," Ossivia said softly. "Though I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore understands this principle as well. A wizard's spiritual sight fades with age. Some people never develop it at all. They remain deceived by appearances their whole lives, struggling in vain."
"I almost wish I didn't have it."
With a self-deprecating remark, Hoffa took hold of Ossivia's arm and led her across the long hall to a partially destroyed statue.
Here, heaps of broken and decayed bookshelves lay scattered. At the slightest touch, these shelves collapsed entirely, raising thin clouds of dust in the moonlight.
Frowning, Ossivia asked, "What do you see here? Tell me."
"You really can't see?" Hoffa waved a hand in front of her eyes, still skeptical.
"Stop that. I can see you, but it's hard to discern anything else."
"Damn it," Hoffa muttered under his breath.
"Focus on the task," Ossivia instructed.
She ran her fingers along the massive statue's torso. "What do you see?"
"A statue. A broken statue, only half of it remains, covered in rotting wooden debris," Hoffa replied.
"Clear away the debris. See if there's any information on the statue," Ossivia said quietly.
Hoffa nodded and coughed lightly before raising his wand. "Incendio!"
A 40-centimeter-long jet of flame burst from the tip of his wand, igniting the decayed wood in front of him. The wood, so old and brittle it resembled paper, burned to ashes almost instantly.
Within moments, the wooden debris had turned to floating specks of ash, scattered into the air and vanishing entirely.
"Is it done?" Ossivia asked softly.
Hoffa wiped the dust from the statue with his fingers.
"It's all burned."
After saying this, Hoffa circled around the statue. He discovered not only that the statue was severely damaged, but that it had also been intentionally defaced. Many areas that likely contained inscriptions or information had been smashed or scraped away with sharp tools.
For example, the base.
Typically, the base of a statue would have inscriptions recording details like its construction date. This statue was no exception, but most of it had been destroyed.
Hoffa ran his fingers across the surface and finally found a faint, partially intact number at the very edge of the base: 929.
"There's nothing here," Hoffa said, standing up and addressing Ossivia. "Just a blurred number: 929."
"929?" Ossivia frowned. "What does that mean?"
"Who knows."
Hoffa shrugged. "Maybe it's the construction date of the statue. Didn't you say this was an ancient library? Perhaps it's the library's completion date."
"Time... 929... Wait a moment."
Ossivia spun in place twice before speaking again. "No, it's not the construction date. It's the time of death."
"Time of death? What do you mean?" Hoffa furrowed his brow.
"I've read Hogwarts' history. The second headmaster, Gahoris Mallory, assumed office in 930. According to Hogwarts tradition, every headmaster must die in their post."
"So, you're saying this statue is...?"
"If my guess is correct, it represents Hogwarts' first headmaster—the one who founded the Forbidden Library."
Hoffa swallowed hard and glanced up at the statue again.
"Who was he?"
Ossivia shook her head. "No one knows. There's no historical record of him. Perhaps his records are sealed within the Forbidden Library, or maybe his existence was entirely erased to protect the library's secrets."
"Even you don't know?"
"It's been a thousand years. The only information I have is from history books. If the books don't mention it, no one knows."
Hoffa carefully examined the statue again but found nothing else. "There's nothing more. Just the number."
"Are you sure?"
Hoffa scrutinized it once more and confirmed, "I'm certain. The statue is too badly damaged to reveal anything else."
With that, he wandered around the hall, hoping to find more clues elsewhere. But there was nothing—just this broken statue in the entire hall.
He returned to Ossivia, who sighed. "I'll look for clues elsewhere. Take me out of here."
She extended her arm, and Hoffa grabbed her forearm as they slowly made their way out.
Halfway there, Hoffa suddenly stopped, a feeling of unease creeping over him. He tugged on Ossivia's arm.
"Wait."
"What's wrong?"
In the empty hall, Hoffa rubbed his chin, staring at the statue bathed in bright moonlight, deep in thought.
"I was just wondering... why would someone go to such lengths to destroy all the information? Even the statue of the first headmaster wasn't spared."
"Maybe it was to protect something," Ossivia speculated. "To ensure the library's secrets wouldn't be discovered by future generations."
"Possibly. But have you ever heard of an ancient Eastern story?"
"What story?"
"It's called No Silver Buried Here."
"I've never heard of it," Ossivia replied, shaking her head.
Hoffa explained, "It's about a foolish man in ancient times who wanted to hide his money. He buried it underground but was worried someone might find it. So, he put up a sign where he buried the money, which read, No Silver Buried Here."
Ossivia couldn't hold back and burst into laughter.
Under the moonlight, Hoffa noticed something rare—a pair of dimples appeared on his Transfiguration professor's face when she smiled.
She quickly composed herself, her expression turning calm again. "That's absurdly foolish."
Hoffa pointed at the half-destroyed statue. "Exactly."
"Isn't it obvious? If there were truly no information on that statue, why would anyone go through the trouble of destroying it? There must have been something significant there," Hoffa said.
"Even if there was, it's already gone," Ossivia replied.
Hoffa persisted, "Would you really place important information in such an obvious location? Like that foolish man in the Eastern story I mentioned earlier—everyone knows to bury their valuables underground.
When I was under the illusion magic, I saw this place bustling with activity, full of people. If there were any important information on the statue, wouldn't it have been public knowledge by now?"
Ossivia didn't respond.
Hoffa tugged her back to the damaged statue, his gaze fixed on its base.
Suddenly, Hoffa flicked his wand, transforming it into a thick rope. The rope flew through the air and wrapped tightly around the statue.
"Give me a hand," Hoffa said.
Ossivia grabbed the edge of the rope.
Hoffa entered a partial activation state, his body growing slightly taller and his arm muscles swelling. Meanwhile, Ossivia transformed into a semi-snake form, standing over three meters tall.
The two pulled hard together. The statue shook but was unusually heavy.
"Pull harder," Hoffa urged.
Ossivia glanced at him before fully transforming under the moonlight into a massive green python over ten meters long. She opened her giant mouth and clamped down on the rope.
At that moment, Hoffa felt as though he was being dragged by a freight truck.
Man and serpent pulled again with all their might.
Boom!
The half-remaining statue collapsed with a thunderous crash, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Hoffa put away his wand and coughed twice. Then, he hurried to the spot beneath the fallen base.
As the sky cleared and the clouds drifted away, bright moonlight shone through the windows, illuminating the true underside of the statue's base.
There, Hoffa saw a line of deeply etched English words:
"Endless knowledge is sealed beneath the White Stone Tomb."
He stood there, momentarily stunned.
Nearby, the green python slowly transformed back into Ossivia, who returned to her human form and approached him.
"Is there something?" she asked.
Hoffa nodded solemnly.
"What does it say?" Ossivia asked urgently.
Hoffa crouched down and murmured, "Endless knowledge is sealed beneath the White Stone Tomb."
"Endless knowledge is sealed beneath the White Stone Tomb," Ossivia repeated, her tone heavy.
"Just one line?"
"Wait, there's also a symbol." Hoffa ran his fingers over a strange design etched into the stone's underside.
"It's a pattern with three rings—one large, one small, and an eye in the center."
Ossivia crouched beside him and began feeling around the statue's base with her hands. Hoffa guided her hands to the correct spot.
After a while, her expression grew serious.
"What does it mean? Do you know?" Hoffa asked.
Ossivia shook her head. "I don't know. I've never heard of the White Stone Tomb or seen a pattern with three rings. But it must have something to do with the Forbidden Library."
Hoffa murmured, "Unbelievable. To think they left information in such a hidden spot. Did they foresee the destruction of the statue? Who could have destroyed it in the first place?"
Ossivia didn't answer; she had no way to. After tracing the words for a moment longer, she stood up and walked briskly toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" Hoffa called after her.
"Outside," she replied.
"You're going the wrong way."
Ossivia turned, corrected her path, and continued walking.
Hoffa followed her.
When they reached the edge of the hall, Ossivia drew her wand and tapped the corner of the wall, summoning the mirror once again.
After closing the mirror, they found themselves back in the real-world Hogwarts Library. The night had fully descended, and the library was pitch dark.
Ossivia walked quickly, forcing Hoffa to jog to keep up with her.
As they exited the library, she said, "You head back. I'm going to look up information on the White Stone Tomb. Once I find anything, I'll let you know immediately."
(End of Chapter)
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