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Chapter 33: Rowena's Dream
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 01:53:27 +0000 UTCChapter 33: Rowena's Dream
"Here we are! This is the hidden room we found!"
After what felt like an eternity on the moving staircases, the section leading from the second to the third floor finally swung into place, connecting with a landing it rarely visited. Justin excitedly tapped on a section of the blank stone wall just ahead.
After three sharp raps, the wall, barely illuminated by the distant torchlight, shimmered, revealing a painting.
"We found it by accident," Justin explained. "We answered the painting's question, and suddenly we were inside. We brought a lantern, but still… Lumos."
A faint light appeared at the tip of Justin's wand, followed by a much brighter one from Hermione's. Then Sean joined them, his wand glowing like a miniature sun.
"Whoa, Sean…" Justin breathed, before turning his attention back to the painting.
The canvas was yellowed and cracked with age. Instead of a stern-looking wizard, it depicted a snowy owl wearing a velvet waistcoat and tiny pince-nez spectacles. It was struggling to adjust the glasses with one talon while clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment in the other.
"What are you staring at? An owl is still an eagle!" the owl hooted in a high, shrill voice.
Hermione was the first to burst out laughing, quickly followed by Justin. Even Sean couldn't help but smile.
"You again! What's so funny?!" the owl shrieked, flapping its wings indignantly. Sean could almost feel the rush of air.
"I… I just thought of something amusing," Hermione stammered, her face flushing.
Now Sean couldn't hold back his chuckle.
"And what are you laughing at?" the owl demanded.
"I also thought of something amusing," Sean said quietly. He hadn't expected to find echoes of old Muggle comedy routines in a magical painting.
"You're laughing at me! Both of you! You haven't stopped!" the owl shrieked, flapping so hard the parchment in its talons shook violently.
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
"Our apologies."
Before the owl could lock them out permanently, the three students managed to stifle their laughter and offer sincere apologies.
"Impudent little wizards! If you wish to enter, you must answer my question!" The owl unfurled the parchment, though whether it could actually read the script was anyone's guess. After peering at it for a moment, it puffed out its chest and asked, "Hogwarts, peaceful Hogwarts… Tell me, why was this castle built upon this very spot?" It rotated its head a full one hundred and eighty degrees, fixing them with an imperious stare.
Justin and Hermione froze.
"The question changed!" Justin whispered incredulously. "Last time it asked for Rowena Ravenclaw's first name! Hermione, do you know this one?"
Hermione frowned, deep in thought, but eventually shook her head.
"Foolish little wizards! Ignorant little wizards!" the owl chirped triumphantly.
"It was because of Rowena's dream."
Sean's quiet voice cut through the owl's gloating. The bird stopped flapping so abruptly it nearly fell off its perch.
"How did you know—?" it squawked, then stiffly gave a small, jerky bow. As it flapped its wings, a hairline crack appeared in the wall beside the painting, widening to reveal a sky-blue door. With a thoughtful expression, Sean turned the eagle-shaped doorknob.
The door opened into a wide, dusty space. Several old desks were scattered haphazardly in the center. In one corner, a massive bookshelf leaned precariously, most of its brittle, yellowed books spilled onto the floor. Another corner held a jumble of strange contraptions: a complex series of crystal lenses, several glass cabinets with faded labels. Other than that, the room was empty.
"Sean, Rowena's dream? What did you mean?" Justin asked, his curiosity overriding his desire to practice magic for the moment.
"Legend says that the location of Hogwarts was chosen by Lady Rowena Ravenclaw herself," Sean began, his voice taking on the soft cadence of a storyteller recounting a long-forgotten tale. "Rowena, who hailed from the glens, dreamt one night of a warty hog that led her to a cliff beside a great loch. And so, the school was founded on that very spot…"
Justin leaned closer, his face alight with wonder. Hermione lowered her wand, her eyes sparkling in the dim light cast by Sean's Lumos.
"Hogwarts… warty hog… Do you see the similarity?" Sean continued. "According to the legend, that's how the school got its name."
"Wow…" Justin breathed. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
"That's an amazing story," Justin said. "It's like something out of… Peter… uh… Peter who?" He frowned, trying to remember.
"The Tales of Beedle the Bard," Hermione supplied, shooting Justin an exasperated look for interrupting the atmosphere.
"Oh, right," Justin said, scratching his head as he lit the magical lantern he'd brought.
With the story finished, the three young wizards turned their attention back to the wonders of magic.
The Levitation Charm, simple yet practical, was one of the first spells young witches and wizards typically mastered. But even this basic charm presented a challenge for beginners.
"Failed again…" Justin sighed as the feather he was levitating drifted back to the floor after only three seconds, far short of the ten-second minimum Professor Flitwick expected.
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
Sean automatically tuned out the surrounding sounds, his focus absolute.
"Ugh…" Justin's feather fell again, this time after four seconds. Still not enough.
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
"Dropped it…"
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
After ten consecutive successful casts, gaining another 30 proficiency points, Sean felt his magical energy drain away. His arm grew heavy, and his breathing became shallow and rapid.
Magical energy—or 'magic,' as they called it—was a strange thing. Unlike the mana bars in the games of his past life, its depletion manifested physically as fatigue and a profound lack of energy. It wasn't some abstract mental force, but something deeply connected to the wizard's own body. Thankfully, it replenished over time, and the difference between feeling drained and feeling refreshed was easy enough to perceive.
He looked over and saw Justin struggling, his face etched with frustration. He was trying all sorts of wand movements, but the feather either shot up erratically or wobbled precariously before plummeting back to the desk.
