Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 325, Section 324: The Mark

Harry is asleep.

Sheen was patiently waiting for something.

Soon, two large, tennis ball-sized eyes appeared. They scrutinized Harry in the darkness, a tear rolling down its long, pointed nose.

"Harry Potter is back at school,"

It whispered sadly,

Dobby reminded Harry Potter time and again. Ah, sir, why don't you heed Dobby's warnings? Harry Potter missed the train, why doesn't he go home?

Harry was startled awake.

"Go away!"

He shouted,
"Wait a minute, you said you caught the train? Did you do this? Did you block the wall to prevent us from passing?"

……

Sheen looked Dobby up and down. Dobby had a tattered pillowcase, bulging eyes, and was tapping its head with a water jug.

It had just finished explaining how house-elves could be freed from their enslavement, and now it was stammering and sobbing as it tried to persuade Harry:

"Go home, Harry Potter, go home..."

This inexplicably reminded Sheen of something.

"You're saying you stopped me from coming to school because the secret room is about to be opened?"

Harry laughed in exasperation.

"Ah, sir, please stop asking, please stop pressing poor Dobby... It's dangerous, it's very dangerous there..."

Dobby groaned, more tears rolling down onto his tattered pillowcase.

"Dobby, you really are—you need to know, if you keep trying to save me, you'll kill me,"

Harry didn't know what to say, but suddenly, his eyes sharpened.
"How did you know Voldemort was going to harm me...?"

Dobby let out its sharpest cry yet.

"Dobby! The basilisk has been dealt with!"

Harry had no choice but to quickly change the subject.

Dobby cooled down like a teapot:

“Harry Potter has gone mad, such a great Harry Potter, so noble, so brave—now he’s gone mad.”

Harry sometimes felt that he couldn't understand the language of the house-elves.

He reluctantly turned over and carefully took something out of a box from his schoolbag on the table.

It was a snake fang, from a young wizard who single-handedly defeated the basilisk monster with a sword.

Harry still remembers his words:

“It’s okay, Harry, I have more.”

At that time, he felt that he and Sheen did not communicate very well in terms of language.

The school hospital was pitch black, and Dobby was boiling over again like a kettle.

Harry went to great lengths to convince it that Hogwarts had a young, enhanced version of Dumbledore.

Meanwhile, the enhanced version of Dumbledore has quietly left.

Harry has completely convinced Dobby that it shouldn't cause any more trouble.

Now, it is the sleeping basilisk that may cause the big commotion.

While pondering the basilisk problem, Sheen wondered what those great wizards had done to leave behind such a peculiar magical bloodline, and then walked to the door of the headmaster's office.

He studied magic for a short time, but that doesn't matter. Magic is vast, and many wizards have gone far.

"Headmaster Dumbledore."

Sheen knocked on the door.

The door opened automatically again.

The portraits of the principals were already quite familiar; they glanced at Sheen and then went back to snoring.

It wasn't curfew yet, but the silverware still gleamed under the crescent moon. The pitter-patter of the rain fell on the castle tower, but did not wake Fox, who was resting.

Sheen walked towards the Sorting Hat. The Gryffindor sword, which used to be placed in the Headmaster's office, seemed to have been "eaten" back by the Sorting Hat. "Ah, ah, come quick..."

Sheen heard that faint voice.

"Try again..."

Mr. Sorting Hat is speaking again.

Sheen was puzzled. He subconsciously touched the brim of the crumpled hat, but unexpectedly grabbed a slipped sword hilt.

“A wizard’s beliefs are something that leave a mark, and you have shown amazing courage, which will not disappear…”

The Sorting Hat twisted its body.

Sheen gripped the Gryffindor sword, lost in thought for a moment.

He couldn't help but recall what Headmaster Dumbledore had said to Harry:
"Harry, the kind of love your mother had for you will leave its mark on you. Not a scar, not a visible trace..."

To have been loved so deeply by someone, even if that person is gone, leaves us with an eternal talisman.

……

Right outside the principal's office stood two figures.

"It's strange that the Gryffindor sword is in Ravenclaw's hands."

Dumbledore spoke with a smile.

Professor McGonagall remained silent, watching the young wizard holding the Gryffindor sword, his black hair gleaming faintly, the words stuck in her throat.

In the end, he just silently stared at the Sorting Hat, which was still twisting and turning.

“You see, Minerva, that’s exactly it. People are always very careful with those who are exceptionally important…”

Dumbledore added.

"So, Albus, the secret chamber really is..."

Professor McGonagall's lips formed a stern line.

"This isn't something I should be explaining. Let's talk about the story of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw..."

Dumbledore blinked.

His eyes held a deep smile; few junior wizards would find the Transfiguration office more difficult to enter than the headmaster's office.

The kettle was bubbling and boiling; outside the principal's office, a torrential downpour was underway.
In the spacious and elegant room, peaceful and serene, Sheen slowly put down the Gryffindor sword, placing it on the desk as before.

The rain had been falling since the start of the Quidditch match, and falling asleep to that white noise was very relaxing.

Sheen saw the light on the surface of the empty rune flash and then silently walked out of the principal's office.

As he passed the Transfiguration office, Sheen stopped in his tracks.

The glow of the fireplace still shone through the crack in the door, and Sheen knew that the professor sometimes did work very late.

Inside the office.

Minerva McGonagall held an old book and looked at it. In the firelight, she could make out words like "Chamber of Secrets," "Monster," and "Slytherin Heir."

Hagrid's words echoed in her ears again, and Hogwarts seemed to be shrouded in a black curtain once more.

And at the very center of the black curtain, there was always the figure she least wanted to see.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in……"

She closed the book and looked towards the door.
"Albus... how many times have you come here..."

Her tone was calm, but carried a barely perceptible annoyance.

"professor."

Sheen stood in the doorway; he rarely felt this way about leaving a place.

Outside the thick stone walls of Hogwarts Castle, the autumn leaves turn yellow imperceptibly, and when they all fall to the ground, winter is just around the corner.

In winter, relationships between people tend to become closer.

"Professor, about the locked room..."

(End of this chapter)