How the Room of Requirement Could Be Used Like This

"Of course... not very well."

Helga rapped Jon on the head. "This is a secret. The point of a secret is that it cannot be told to others, understand?"

"But you said you asked Dumbledore to look into how your descendants were doing. Dumbledore must know of your existence, then, right?"

Helga had brought up the matter of her descendants herself, and there really was such a witch in the Original Work. Her name was Hepzibah Smith. Since she was connected to Horcruxes, Jon still remembered a description of her.

"She was a very fat old lady, wearing an elaborate ginger-colored wig. Her bright pink robes spread out around her, making her look like a melting ice cream cake."

This pure-blooded witch, who died at Voldemort's hands in 1946, had claimed in life to be a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff. Because she possessed Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket, she was murdered by Tom Riddle, who had been searching for Horcruxes at the time. That memory came from Hepzibah's House-elf, Hokey.

Now, it seemed that the witch had not lied about her origins, because Helga Hufflepuff herself had confirmed it.

Hepzibah's wealth had likely come from inheriting a vast ancestral fortune. However, the old witch had not lived particularly well in her later years. Her husband had died, she had lost her children, and all she had left were rare antiques and more money than she could spend.

Still, that was not entirely accurate. If Jon had guessed correctly, he himself was this witch's descendant.

By the timeline, the witch had died in 1946 because Voldemort had targeted her. Otherwise, she should have lived a while longer. Jon also knew that his grandfather's father, the first Squib of the Smith Family, had been sent to live with distant relatives after the age of eleven—the Old Manor Jon had inherited today.

This Ancestor had been born in 1898. Witches had children rather early in those days, so the timing matched.

She was a pitiful but wealthy old lady who had given birth to a Squib child and then lost her husband.

Jon had no interest in pitying the witch who might have been his great-grandmother. Helga had denied his earlier guess. She said Dumbledore did not know the secret of the portraits, meaning he was still the only one who knew.

"But I don't think you brought me here for no reason. Because... you must have guessed it too. I didn't know your blood ran through my veins before this, so you must have some other purpose, right? If there's anything I can do for you, I'll do my best."

"Fine, you really are a clever boy. If not for... I might even suspect you were Ravenclaw's descendant."

Jon guessed that this Ancestor of his might have been about to reveal some private matter concerning Lady Ravenclaw—perhaps about the daughter who had betrayed her mother. But Jon would not ask.

It was enough to know it in his heart. Asking too much would only make him unwelcome.

"I don't need you to do anything. I only want to warn you about something. When you entered the common room, I sensed a very strange aura on you. It smelled like a curse, but I couldn't examine it, because it is far too mysterious."

Helga's expression gradually turned grave. She had an even more serious suspicion, but she did not wish to voice it. The child before her was still too young and might not understand certain things.

Her troubled mood made Jon nervous as well. He hurriedly ate a delicious little biscuit to calm himself.

"How should I put this... I don't know whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. I once sensed this aura on Salazar, and also on Dumbledore when he first enrolled. You know both of them, don't you?"

When Helga saw Jon nod, she continued. "Every wizard who achieved something once possessed this aura. Yet without exception, none of them ended well. You are also an exception. I have never seen two people possess this aura at the same time. Perhaps you can help Dumbledore. He is a pitiful man too."

Helga spoke mysteriously. She did not know that Jon had already seen through Dumbledore's fate. As merely a lingering fragment of a soul, she could not make precise prophecies or change anything. For nearly a thousand years, she had wandered within Hogwarts' portraits, and no one had ever entered the Portrait world to speak with her.

Her portrait was imbued with powerful magic, and later generations revered her reputation as well.

Other than occasionally asking the headmaster of the time to check on her descendants, she almost never spoke on her own initiative.

Jon was an exception. As her blood descendant, his consciousness could enter the Portrait world.

"All right, I promise you. If I can do it."

After some thought, Jon agreed. It might not be troublesome for him.

"But can I come here to see you again in the future?"

Honestly, Helga's mastery of food magic was unmatched. At the very least, these little biscuits were the best Jon had ever eaten.

"Magic has its limits of endurance."

Helga patted this descendant of hers on the shoulder. "Your visit this time has already placed too much strain on the Magic Space. You probably won't be able to enter again for some time. However, I can teach you the spell for reinforcing the magical Portrait Space. Of course, not now."

The answer was within Jon's expectations, but he still asked, "Can I take one of your portraits away from Hogwarts? I have an Old Manor. Perhaps then we can speak freely in the future."

With a Legendary Witch teaching him magic, Jon felt that his future might be smooth sailing.

"Oh, that may be rather difficult. My magic has been cast upon all of my portraits at Hogwarts. You know, Hogwarts does not tolerate theft, and all property in the castle belongs to Slytherin... Oh, I think I really do know of one portrait you can take."

Jon's emotions rose and fell like a roller coaster. Then he heard Helga say, "Ravenclaw left the school a magical room. That room possesses powerful Transfiguration Magic and Space Magic. One of my portraits is in her personal study. The portraits of all four of us originally hung there, but because of certain events, only mine still retains magical traces. You can take that portrait. I'll tell you how to enter that room later... but how will you get such a large portrait out?"

Jon smiled mysteriously. "That, I might really have a way to handle."