As Hoffa stepped out of the library, the school grounds were pitch bck, 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 gnced 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 regur 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 rge 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 Ravencw 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 Ravencw Tower be back in use?" Hoffa wondered, his curiosity piqued. He hurried toward the tower.

  Yet, when he reached Ravencw 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 impusible.

  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 Ravencw 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 Ravencw 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 rge metal candebra.

  “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 yers of wooden ptforms 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 candebras to light candles. Others arranged cushions and teacups. A few swept the floor, while others stoked the firepce, where strings of raw meat hung, ready to be roasted.

  Inside, Hoffa saw many of his cssmates, gathered in small groups.

  Some sat on wine barrels, sighing. Others stared bnkly 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 pn to study transfiguration would have to wait.

  Just then, a boy jumped down from a wine barrel and walked toward Hoffa.

  He had curly bck 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 gnced 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 regur 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 rge 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 particurly 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 Ravencws 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 Ravencw Tower be back in use?

  A thought struck Hoffa, and he hurried toward Ravencw 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 Ravencw 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 Ravencw 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 rge metal candebrum.

  “Sorry about that,” Hoffa apologized instinctively. But the house-elf, startled, fled in terror.

  The room was a rge, ancient square hall with numerous redwood ptforms 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 candebras, cushions, teacups, brooms, and firewood. Some lit candles, others swept the floor, and still others tended a firepce where chunks of meat hung, ready to be roasted.

  Hoffa spotted many of his cssmates scattered around the room. Some sat on barrels sighing, others stared bnkly 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 decres 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 pns to study his transformation manual would have to wait.

  Just then, a boy jumped down from a barrel and walked over. He had curly bck 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 ptform suspended in mid-air. Several such ptforms were scattered throughout the room, likely the school’s temporary accommodations for Ravencw students.

  “Got it. Thanks, William.”

  “Don’t stay out too te,” William said listlessly before climbing back onto his barrel, assuming a pensive pose that looked quite mencholic.

  “Where’s Agia?” 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 celr he had once stayed in at the Leaky Cauldron, only rger and more intricate.

  After passing a few whispering girls, Miranda brought Hoffa to a quiet corner of the wine celr.

  “This is where Agia and I are staying,” Miranda said, pointing upward. Hoffa looked to see a thick redwood ptform above them.

  It reminded him of a hammock.

  “Shoes off,” Miranda instructed.

  “Shoes off?”

  “Are you pnning to stomp on our sleeping area?” Miranda pyfully hit Hoffa.

  “Alright, alright.”

  Hoffa removed his shoes and climbed the stairs to the ptform.

  The ptform was about twenty square meters, likely a former wine storage area. The air was filled with the scent of aged wood and wine.

  Agia, the silver-haired girl, sat cross-legged by a candlestick, pouting. Beside her were two cushions, a bnket, and a few books.

  Hoffa understood immediately. No wonder Agia was so upset—the accommodations weren’t exactly ideal.

  The pce was clean enough, but it couldn’t compare to the elegance of the Ravencw dormitory.

  “Not happy, little aristocrat?” Hoffa teased.

  “Ha. Ha.”

  Agia responded with a dry ugh. “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.”

  Agia sighed dramatically, sprawling out on the ptform. “But I didn’t even get to bring a change of clothes. Out of all the houses, why is Ravencw the unluckiest?”

  “Actually, it’s not as bad as it could be,” Miranda said, climbing onto the ptform 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,” Agia muttered, staring at the ceiling.

  “You’re the only one who compins 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, Agia 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 ptform, 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 Agia, hoping the self-procimed know-it-all could provide an answer.

  But this time, Agia, 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.”

  Agia 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 ter, he only took a wand with him. Infinite knowledge couldn’t possibly fit into a small tomb.

  The three exchanged gnces, falling into a contemptive silence.

  After a while, Miranda suddenly spoke, “What if it’s a person?”

  Agia blinked. “Huh?”

  Miranda eborated, “If someone memorized everything in a library, wouldn’t that person become the library?”

  Agia’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)

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