Hogwarts: A Dream

There was nothing particularly special about Hufflepuff's Common Room, aside from its enormous size. Older students said Hufflepuff's lounge was twice as large as those of the other Houses, though Jon could not figure out what there was to be proud of.

Badger House's Common Room was located on the first basement level, close to the kitchens. Not far away was the entrance to Slytherin's Common Room. They said badgers were snakes' natural enemies, but that did not seem quite so true now.

"Don't be afraid of Slytherin. Badgers will never fear snakes!"

As they passed the Slytherin group, Jon heard a Hufflepuff prefect say this. All he could do was respond with a smile.

It was not that they were afraid, but the ones who usually fought snakes were the little lions. Hufflepuff had practically no presence in the Original Work.

The entrance to the Common Room was a still-life painting in the corridor. To enter, one had to tap the correct barrel in the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff."

Inside was a round, low-ceilinged room carrying the faint fragrance of earth. Yellow drapes covered the room, which was furnished with many cushioned sofas and chairs.

The passages from the Common Room to the dormitories were decorated like barrels—fourteen in total—arranged on either side of the fireplace and leading to the boys' and girls' dormitories. Above the fireplace hung a portrait of a smiling middle-aged witch. Beneath it was a silver plaque engraved with three lines of flowing script.

"Helga Hufflepuff (964–1032)"

"One of the greatest witches in the history of magic in Britain"

"I shall teach many, and treat them all equally."

Jon stood before the portrait, studying the Legendary Witch. Her eyes were green, just like Jon's, and this gave him a strange sense of familiarity.

As though it had always been meant to be this way.

How strange.

"Jon, aren't you going to rest? Tomorrow is the weekend. I think you can get a good night's sleep."

Cedric's voice came from behind him, giving Jon a headache.

This good old fellow was excellent in every way except for his inexplicable habit of caring about everyone else. It was truly annoying.

But he could not say Cedric was wrong. There was an old saying in China: one did not strike a smiling face. That was even more true in Britain, where aristocratic etiquette was so highly valued.

"Thank you. I think I'll go find my dormitory now."

Jon gave the portrait a slight nod, then turned and exchanged a few words with Cedric before slipping into the barrel to the left of the portrait.

In the Common Room, Hufflepuff's portrait continued to smile with its usual gentleness, as gentle as Hufflepuff House itself.

Hufflepuff dormitories housed four students each, but every person's space was separated off on its own, with thick bed curtains and drapes in between. In short, everyone was guaranteed their own private space.

The interior was arranged like a small tent. The beds were somewhat like the bunk beds from Jon's previous life, except they were lower, and the desk was not beneath the bed but beside it. A row of storage cabinets sat under the bed, perfect for keeping belongings.

The drapes at the entrance seemed to be enchanted with a simple spell, greatly enhancing the privacy of the space. Jon was very pleased with that.

His small suitcase had already been placed beside the desk under the bed. Jon opened it and put his textbooks, clothes, and Cauldron into the storage cabinet. Under the candlelight, the tiny space seemed especially quiet and secluded.

After arranging his things and putting away his quill and Steel Pen separately, Jon took off his clothes and climbed into bed.

Tomorrow was the weekend. He could finally get a good sleep.

Jon stretched, and the sunlight before his eyes was a little too bright, making him feel unaccustomed to it.

The next second, he came to his senses and hurriedly looked down.

He was lying on a recliner, fully dressed in a well-fitted robe, with a copy of Introduction to Basic Spells in his hand. It looked as though he had fallen asleep while reading.

Everything looked perfectly normal, except Jon was utterly stunned.

Had he... traveled through time again?

He rose seriously from the recliner and tried to pull his wand from the ring on his hand, but his index finger was completely bare. Then he raised his hands. They were young and smooth as well, but they were not Jon's hands at all.

Only after pondering for a long while did he notice the Old Lady sitting on the sofa opposite him.

The familiar-looking old woman held a teacup, her eyes full of scrutiny as she looked at Jon. "I knew you would be able to come in."

Jon froze for a moment, then understood. He asked tentatively, "You are... that one?"

"Which one?" the Old Lady asked calmly. "If you mean the one hanging in Hufflepuff's Common Room, then yes, that is me."

Jon's mind instantly seemed to disconnect. He gave an awkward smile, then felt that smiling like that was impolite. "Then you summoned me here to..."

"Oh, nothing much. It has been a long time since I saw one of my blood descendants, so naturally I wanted to take a look at you. Hufflepuff family children always like going to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Those thoughtless little fools even sold the family's Old Manor... You are the first to appear in Hufflepuff in nearly a century." The old witch, Helga Hufflepuff, spoke to herself for quite some time before Jon. The amount of information in her words was explosive. "But it seems you do not know me. What, has the Hufflepuff family declined to this point? I knew the Old Manor had been sold, but you do not even have a single portrait of me left?"

Jon felt as though he was dreaming. In fact, according to Witch Hufflepuff, he really was dreaming.

This was a bloodline spell. Hufflepuff had left a fragment of her soul within every portrait she had left at Hogwarts. Unlike the method Voldemort used to create Horcruxes by splitting his soul, this remnant was merely a lingering trace left behind after the body died. It retained all her memories and endured through the unique magic within the portraits. It was an exceptionally profound form of magic.

"But the other three founders did not leave behind their souls. Salazar left the school, while Gryffindor and Ravenclaw believed their spirits would naturally be passed down by later generations. Though in fact, Ravenclaw had no descendants either."

Helga poured Jon a cup of tea as well. It had been a long time since anyone had come into the Portrait Space to speak with her, and the Legendary Witch seemed rather talkative.

Jon displayed the finest quality of a listener. He silently listened to the Old Lady speak, as though keeping his maternal grandmother company, occasionally smiling and offering a few agreeing remarks.

He was extremely good at pleasing old ladies.

Of course, he was also thinking about something else. For instance, he could write a book after he woke up.

Since even that fraud Lockhart's books could become bestsellers, then his own book involving a Legendary Witch ought to sell even better.

As for the title, how about Hogwarts: A Dream?