This is a Brand New Version of the Room of Requirement

Jon woke up in his bed.

He raised his wrist. The luminous hands of his watch showed that it was already past three in the morning; before long, it would be dawn.

The mechanical watch on his wrist counted as a semi-magical item. It had been enchanted with a Precision Charm and an Anti-Magnetic Field Charm to prevent Hogwarts' powerful magical magnetic field from affecting this Muggle object.

Of course, this watch violated the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Act.

But where in the world were there so many people with nothing better to do than make trouble?

Those who liked making trouble, and those others made trouble for, were either loved or hated.

Coincidentally, neither of those emotions had anything to do with Jon.

Jon lay in bed, letting his mind go blank. The bed curtains shut out the sounds of the others breathing in the dormitory, making this small space especially silent.

He began to think.

Because he had seen Hufflepuff in his dream just now, he still felt as though none of it was real.

If God really existed, was He laughing right now?

Could God tell him why?

He had already made up his mind to spend his seven years at school quietly and honestly, and now he was being told that Helga Hufflepuff was his ancestor, that he possessed some kind of "mysterious" magical aura, that he was destined for great achievements—and then an unhappy end?

What kind of genius author could write a plot where the protagonist's path suddenly began like this?

Were they fans of NZND? Were they out of their minds?

The more Jon thought about it, the more his head hurt. He had the constant feeling that an invisible hand was manipulating all of this, while he could only perform like a puppet according to a predetermined script.

"Of course, it might have just been a dream. There's no need to worry."

He comforted himself like that and tried to calm down. Wasn't the steadiness he had cultivated over more than ten years meant precisely for situations like this?

He could not remain expressionless with Mount Tai collapsing before him, but accepting new information was only a minor matter. There was no need to be so shocked.

After tossing and turning in bed for a while to settle his emotions, Jon finally climbed down when he felt there was nothing seriously wrong with him. One look at the time showed that it was already nearly five o'clock.

He took out the underwear he wore close to his skin from the storage cabinet—these clothes existed to make movement easier—then put on his robe, touched the ring on his hand, and headed for the Common Room.

Hufflepuff's ghost, the Fat Friar, was sleeping in a chair in the Common Room. Jon moved quietly so as not to disturb him. As he passed the Hufflepuff portrait, the Legendary Witch smiling in the painting even winked at him.

All right, now he could be sure that last night had not been a dream.

Jon nodded politely, then squeezed out through the exit. Although it was still within curfew hours, normal people ought to have been sleeping soundly at this time. Filch was a Squib, after all, and needed rest too.

The Weasley twins must have given the caretaker quite a headache.

Jon had no intention of challenging Hogwarts' dorm warden. Living in the magical world as a Squib was painful enough; there was no need to make things worse for him.

Following the route Helga had told him, he headed upstairs through the castle without the slightest hesitation.

Fortunately, today was not a "Stairs Holiday." Jon only spent a few minutes running from the first basement level to the Eighth Floor of the castle, where he found the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls.

Behind that wall had once been Lady Ravenclaw's study, library, bedroom, washroom... In short, Lady Ravenclaw had lived her daily life here. After Lady Ravenclaw passed away, this room became Hogwarts' secret place for students to explore.

Powerful Space Magic, Concealment Magic that had endured for a thousand years, Defense Magic woven into Hogwarts itself... Jon had already longed for this room, and after hearing Helga's words, that longing had only grown stronger.

Of course, he knew how to open the Room of Requirement, but with Helga's guidance, that method seemed rather troublesome.

He reached into his ring and drew out his wand, pressing it against the wall before him as he softly said, "The most precious thing in the world is friendship." (The most important thing in the world,is friendship.)

The wall before him began to change. Rather than turning into a door, it became a rippling membrane of light. With a slight push from Jon, the tip of his wand had already slipped inside.

Jon did not hesitate. He walked straight into the membrane of light, passing through it as though entering Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

There was nothing particularly special inside the room. Aside from the somewhat old furnishings, it looked much like Jon's own study: bookshelves, a desk, chairs, paintings hanging on the walls, a quill on the table, and a half-used bottle of ink whose contents had already hardened into a solid lump...

Jon ran his fingers over the traces left on these objects. A thousand years had passed, yet they had still been preserved so well, as though their original owner had only just been here.

He turned around and saw the enormous portrait hanging on the wall. The painting was mostly empty, with only a young figure standing near the left-center. Her long purple dress spilled across the ground like flowing water, golden thread upon it outlining a deep and mysterious honey badger crest...

After all these years, she seemed not to have changed at all. Her smile remained the same, gentle and warm.

Jon suddenly recalled Hufflepuff House's introduction to this ancestor of his. It said that she treated every student as though they were her own child.

Anyone whom students called a mother must have had something special about her.

"Are these blank spaces where the portraits of the other three Founders used to be?"

Jon asked as he looked at the vast empty areas in the painting. Hufflepuff in the portrait nodded. Here, she could finally speak freely.

"At first, Slytherin left, and his portrait left this place as well. Then Gryffindor and Ravenclaw passed away one after another, and no one knew what had become of the portraits here. In fact, all of us knew the password to enter Rowena's study, but none of us had ever truly entered it. It was only when I cast magic on the eve of my death that I discovered there was a portrait here."

There was a trace of sorrow in Helga's voice.

"The few of us used to be such, such good friends!"

Jon did not know how to respond. At a time like this, he could not even empathize. A friendship that had lasted a thousand years became especially weighty after being tempered by time; he could not even say a few witty words to ease Helga's sadness.

"You don't need to feel sad because of me. So much time has passed—I got over it long ago."

Helga in the portrait continued, "Didn't you say there were things you wanted to learn? You can ask now. But the magical world has developed for so long that there probably won't be much I can teach you."

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