Valhalla?

"What did you say? What state was this boy in when you found him?" Dumbledore asked, a thoughtful gleam flashing in his eyes.

"Hanging upside down in midair. Wait, does that have something to do with the boy's current condition?" Snape began to think.

"Today is Wednesday.

Wednesday—Woden, an alias of the great god Odin.

He is also the god of knowledge.

To gain unparalleled Wisdom capable of foretelling the future, he sacrificed one eye to the giant Mimir and hung upside down from the World Tree for seven days and seven nights.

In the end, he comprehended Runes—the secrets of the universe.

Could this child also be sleeping for seven days and seven nights?" Snape shot Zacharias a disdainful look.

"Exactly, exactly. Since when did Hufflepuff's Golden Cup become connected to Scandinavian mythology?" Lily nodded repeatedly at the side.

"Perhaps Hufflepuff's magic came from Eldhrímnir?" Dumbledore stroked his chin.

"By your reasoning, doesn't that mean this little brat has entered Valhalla?

Shrímnir sacrificed himself for him, while the cook Andhrímnir used Eldhrímnir to prepare this brat's dinner." Snape sneered.

Scandinavian mythology—or rather, Germanic Mythology—was the only mythology that had died out completely.

Nearly every wizard who studied magical script—Runes—knew something about it.

Valhalla was a place only heroic warriors slain in battle could enter. How could a wet-behind-the-ears brat possibly get in?

"He is, after all, a descendant of Hufflepuff.

Combined with the upside-down posture before he fell unconscious,

the fact that today is Wednesday, and the interaction between his magic and the Golden Cup now, all point to that possibility."

"Then what state is he in right now?" Lily asked curiously.

Unlike Snape, she felt nothing but curiosity.

How had someone Snape described as such a loser been chosen by the Golden Cup?

And he seemed to have