As Hoffa stepped out of the library, the school grounds were pitch black, with only a few flickering torches in the distance providing faint visibility.
Some faintly glowing ghosts floated through walls, murmuring to each other in worried whispers.
Hoffa glanced at his watch. It was 9 PM, meaning he had been in the library's mirror world for three hours—far beyond Hogwarts' curfew of 8 PM.
Fortunately, the silver assistant badge on his chest granted him more freedom than regular students.
Walking slowly through the darkened school, Hoffa reflected on his recent adventure. He had gained the ability to activate a state of vitality, which drained a large amount of mental energy, and discovered a cryptic clue he didn't yet understand: The White Stone Tomb.
Where was the White Stone Tomb? What was it? Hoffa didn't know. History was never his strong suit.
His goal was to find the Half-Human King, but along the way, he wouldn't mind strengthening himself.
Hoffa wanted to return to his dormitory to fetch an old book of his, The Anatomy of Everything: Structure is King by Morgana Le Fay. It had once guided him in transforming into an Animagus.
Although he had recently mastered some human transfiguration techniques from Osivia and pushed his limits, Hoffa believed the field was vast and profound, like a deep ocean. What he had grasped so far was merely the surface.
If he could retrieve his old book, it would greatly aid him in advancing his transfiguration skills.
Hoffa first headed to the Great Hall, expecting Ravenclaw students to still be sleeping there for the night.
But when he arrived, the hall was deserted. Only a few pale, translucent ghosts floated silently about.
"Could the Ravenclaw Tower be back in use?" Hoffa wondered, his curiosity piqued. He hurried toward the tower.
Yet, when he reached Ravenclaw Tower, he found it completely sealed off. Following the Halloween incident, the school had folded all magical staircases, leaving no path upward.
Two patrolling professors stood at the entrance. Their eyes lingered on Hoffa's assistant badge for a few moments before they slowly looked away.
Noticing this, Hoffa felt a headache brewing. He couldn't find anyone, nor could he retrieve his book.
Looking up at the impossibly tall tower, Hoffa thought about sneaking past the guards using ghost-like stealth. But scaling 300 meters straight up without stairs to retrieve his transfiguration guide seemed implausible.
Climb or not?
As he hesitated, a voice called out from the corner.
"Hoffa!"
Turning, he saw Miranda approaching with a prefect accompanying her.
"We've been waiting for you. Come with me," Miranda whispered.
"Where did you all go?" Hoffa asked.
"Didn't you read the notice?" Miranda said urgently as they walked.
"What notice?"
"The school set up a temporary dormitory near Hufflepuff's common room for Ravenclaw students. We'll stay there until all safety hazards are cleared, and then we can return to the tower."
"Hufflepuff's common room?" Hoffa was stunned. That was... near the kitchens, wasn't it?
As they walked, Miranda led Hoffa out of the Ravenclaw Tower area and down toward the basement.
Gradually, the corridor's style began to change. Under the warm glow of torches, paintings of food started appearing on the walls.
Finally, Miranda stopped in front of a painting of a man wearing a chef's hat.
"Apple pie," she said.
"Out for a midnight snack, are we?" the man in the painting grumbled before sliding aside to reveal a passageway and a staircase descending into the yellowish-brown stone below.
Miranda whispered to Hoffa, "Each year group has its own room. The second-years are the unluckiest; their guard painting is notoriously bad-tempered."
"We're not staying in Hufflepuff's common room?" Hoffa asked incredulously.
"Dream on. Hufflepuff would never share their common room with students from other houses. They're probably nearby, but no one knows exactly where. Even Tom Riddle doesn't know."
With that, she led Hoffa down the passageway.
As soon as Hoffa stepped into the temporary dormitory, he almost bumped into a house-elf carrying a large metal candelabra.
"Sorry," Hoffa said instinctively.
The house-elf looked terrified and scurried away without a word.
The room Hoffa entered was an ancient, square hall with layers of wooden platforms and staircases. Abandoned wine barrels and cabinets were piled in the corners.
This appeared to be a storage room for Hogwarts' kitchen.
House-elves scurried about everywhere. Half of the kitchen's elves must have been assigned here to help, Hoffa guessed.
Some carried candelabras to light candles. Others arranged cushions and teacups. A few swept the floor, while others stoked the fireplace, where strings of raw meat hung, ready to be roasted.
Inside, Hoffa saw many of his classmates, gathered in small groups.
Some sat on wine barrels, sighing. Others stared blankly at the fire. A few hugged their knees against the walls.
"This is our temporary dormitory," Miranda said softly.
"What about our luggage? Wasn't it brought here?"
"Until the school finishes clearing all safety hazards, our belongings are locked away in the tower. We can't use anything from before."
Miranda smiled wryly. "I guess the school thinks our luggage might contain bombs."
Hoffa said nothing. No wonder everyone seemed so down. It looked like his plan to study transfiguration would have to wait.
Just then, a boy jumped down from a wine barrel and walked toward Hoffa.
He had curly black hair, was about Hoffa's height, and had a face speckled with freckles. It was William, one of Hoffa's dormmates.
After Hoffa left the library, the school was pitch-dark. Only a few flickering torches in the distance provided faint visibility.
A few faintly glowing ghosts floated through the walls, whispering to each other in low, anxious tones.
Hoffa glanced at his watch—it was nine o'clock. He had been in the mirrored world of the library for three hours, well past Hogwarts' curfew of eight o'clock.
Fortunately, the silver assistant badge on his chest granted him more freedom than regular students.
As he walked through the dark school corridors, he reflected on his recent adventure. He had gained a new ability, one that consumed a large amount of mental energy, and a clue that he could not yet understand: The White Stone Tomb.
Where was the White Stone Tomb? What was it? Hoffa had no idea. He wasn't particularly knowledgeable about history.
His goal was to find the Half-King, but he didn't mind improving his abilities along the way.
Hoffa wanted to return to his dormitory to retrieve an old book of his—the one that had guided him in becoming an Animagus, The Anatomy of Everything: Structure is King by Morgan le Fay.
Although he had mastered some of Ossivia's human transfiguration techniques and made some progress, he believed this was a profound and deep art.
He had barely scratched the surface.
Retrieving his old book would greatly help him advance in human transfiguration.
Hoffa first went to the school's main hall, thinking the Ravenclaws might still be sleeping there tonight.
However, when he arrived, the hall was empty, save for a few milky-white, glowing ghosts drifting silently around.
Could the Ravenclaw Tower be back in use?
A thought struck Hoffa, and he hurried toward Ravenclaw Tower.
But when he reached the tower, he found it completely sealed off. After the incident on Halloween, the school had folded up all the magical staircases, leaving no way up.
Two teachers stood on duty at the entrance. When they saw Hoffa approaching, their gazes lingered on his assistant badge for several seconds before slowly looking away.
This made Hoffa feel a bit frustrated.
He couldn't find the people, nor could he retrieve his book.
He looked up at the towering, seemingly unreachable structure. Even if he used ghostly tricks to sneak past the guards, climbing 300 meters vertically without stairs to retrieve his transformation manual seemed impossible.
Should I try, or not?
Just as he was hesitating, a voice called out from around the corner.
"Hoffa!"
He turned to see Miranda hurrying toward him with a prefect accompanying her.
"We've been waiting for you. Come with me," Miranda whispered.
"Where have you all been?" Hoffa asked.
"Didn't you see the notice?" Miranda replied hurriedly as they walked.
"What notice?"
"The school set up a temporary dormitory near the Hufflepuff common room for Ravenclaw students. We'll stay there until all safety hazards are eliminated, after which we can return to the tower."
"Hufflepuff common room?" Hoffa blinked. "Isn't that near the kitchens?"
As they walked, Miranda led Hoffa out of Ravenclaw Tower's vicinity and down to the basement level of the school.
Gradually, as they ventured deeper, the corridor's atmosphere began to change. Warm firelight illuminated the surroundings, and paintings depicting food began to appear on the walls.
Finally, Miranda stopped before a painting of a man wearing a chef's hat.
"Apple pie," she said.
"Getting a midnight snack, are we?" the chef in the painting grumbled irritably, stepping aside to reveal a passageway and a staircase leading downward.
Miranda whispered to Hoffa, "Each grade is assigned a separate room. Second-years are the unluckiest—our assigned painting has a terrible temper."
"We're not staying in the Hufflepuff common room?" Hoffa couldn't help but ask.
"Wishful thinking. Hufflepuff wouldn't want to share their common room with other houses. But they're probably nearby. Where exactly? No one knows, not even Tom Riddle."
With that, she led Hoffa into the passage.
Inside the temporary dormitory, Hoffa nearly bumped into a house-elf carrying a large metal candelabrum.
"Sorry about that," Hoffa apologized instinctively. But the house-elf, startled, fled in terror.
The room was a large, ancient square hall with numerous redwood platforms and stairs. Discarded barrels and cabinets were piled up in the corners.
It was clearly a storage room for the Hogwarts kitchens.
House-elves bustled about, carrying candelabras, cushions, teacups, brooms, and firewood. Some lit candles, others swept the floor, and still others tended a fireplace where chunks of meat hung, ready to be roasted.
Hoffa spotted many of his classmates scattered around the room. Some sat on barrels sighing, others stared blankly into the fire, while a few hugged their knees, facing the walls.
"This is our temporary dormitory," Miranda said softly.
"What about our belongings? Didn't anyone bring them?"
"They've been confiscated for safety reasons. Until the school declares it safe, we can't access our old things."
Miranda smiled wryly. "Maybe they think our luggage is hiding bombs."
Hoffa didn't reply. No wonder everyone seemed so down. It looked like his plans to study his transformation manual would have to wait.
Just then, a boy jumped down from a barrel and walked over. He had curly black hair, was about the same height as Hoffa, and had a few freckles on his face. It was William, one of Hoffa's dormmates.
"Hoffa, you're sharing a bed with me tonight, you know?"
Sharing a bed? Hoffa was taken aback.
"Yeah, over there," William pointed to a wooden platform suspended in mid-air. Several such platforms were scattered throughout the room, likely the school's temporary accommodations for Ravenclaw students.
"Got it. Thanks, William."
"Don't stay out too late," William said listlessly before climbing back onto his barrel, assuming a pensive pose that looked quite melancholic.
"Where's Aglaia?" Hoffa asked, looking around.
"She's sulking," Miranda said with a helpless smile. "Follow me."
Miranda led Hoffa through the winding corridors, reminiscent of the cellar he had once stayed in at the Leaky Cauldron, only larger and more intricate.
After passing a few whispering girls, Miranda brought Hoffa to a quiet corner of the wine cellar.
"This is where Aglaia and I are staying," Miranda said, pointing upward. Hoffa looked to see a thick redwood platform above them.
It reminded him of a hammock.
"Shoes off," Miranda instructed.
"Shoes off?"
"Are you planning to stomp on our sleeping area?" Miranda playfully hit Hoffa.
"Alright, alright."
Hoffa removed his shoes and climbed the stairs to the platform.
The platform was about twenty square meters, likely a former wine storage area. The air was filled with the scent of aged wood and wine.
Aglaia, the silver-haired girl, sat cross-legged by a candlestick, pouting. Beside her were two cushions, a blanket, and a few books.
Hoffa understood immediately. No wonder Aglaia was so upset—the accommodations weren't exactly ideal.
The place was clean enough, but it couldn't compare to the elegance of the Ravenclaw dormitory.
"Not happy, little aristocrat?" Hoffa teased.
"Ha. Ha."
Aglaia responded with a dry laugh. "There's not even a proper bed."
"Who needs a bed?" Hoffa said, sitting cross-legged across from her.
"It's temporary, not like we're staying here for a year."
"Hmph. Who knows how long we'll be stuck here if they don't catch that culprit. And even if we're stuck, couldn't they at least bring down our belongings? How are we supposed to live like this?"
"No bathroom?" Hoffa asked quietly.
"There is one, shared with Hufflepuff girls."
Aglaia sighed dramatically, sprawling out on the platform. "But I didn't even get to bring a change of clothes. Out of all the houses, why is Ravenclaw the unluckiest?"
"Actually, it's not as bad as it could be," Miranda said, climbing onto the platform after taking off her shoes.
"It's better than sleeping in the hall. At least it's warmer and more private here."
"Doesn't matter. Hogwarts is a garbage school," Aglaia muttered, staring at the ceiling.
"You're the only one who complains about it every day," Miranda said, sitting cross-legged. She turned to Hoffa and asked, "Did that female teacher help you find the library?"
At this, Aglaia immediately shot upright, staring at Hoffa with unblinking eyes.
"It's not that simple," Hoffa shook his head. "All I found was a row of incomprehensible texts."
Sitting on the wooden platform, Hoffa briefly recounted his experience exploring the library and the mirrored world.
When he finished, the two girls sat in stunned silence, mouths slightly agape.
It wasn't until Hoffa waved a hand in front of their faces that they snapped back to reality.
"You're saying you entered a mirrored world, saw the ruins of an ancient library, and witnessed ancient wizards' protective magic?"
"That's not the main point," Hoffa said. "The key is, have you ever heard of the White Stone Tomb?"
Miranda immediately looked to Aglaia, hoping the self-proclaimed know-it-all could provide an answer.
But this time, Aglaia, usually eager to show off her knowledge, frowned deeply. "White Stone Tomb? I've never heard of it. But honestly, it doesn't sound special. Any tomb made of white stone could be called that, couldn't it?"
Disappointed, Miranda shook her head. "I haven't heard of it either. My family members are all buried in cemeteries, with marble headstones."
Aglaia waved dismissively. "More importantly, how could a tomb possibly contain infinite knowledge? Think about it—a tomb can only be so big, and a library is enormous."
Hoffa felt doubtful as well. Western wizards didn't have a tradition of building grand tombs. When Dumbledore died later, he only took a wand with him. Infinite knowledge couldn't possibly fit into a small tomb.
The three exchanged glances, falling into a contemplative silence.
After a while, Miranda suddenly spoke, "What if it's a person?"
Aglaia blinked. "Huh?"
Miranda elaborated, "If someone memorized everything in a library, wouldn't that person become the library?"
Aglaia's eyes widened in shock. "You're saying the library is a person?"
"I'm just guessing," Miranda said softly.
Hoffa was equally startled, but after a moment, he shook his head.
"Interesting idea, but the library dates back a thousand years. From what I saw in the vision, they dressed like Aristotle. Even if someone did that, they'd be long gone by now."
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09