The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 71, Section 70: Hogwarts, Witness All the Secrets! [First Update]

Who could resist the allure of being the little emperor of Ravenclaw? The prefects will massage your back, the prefects will wash your feet, and all the students will stand before you to welcome the return of the Ravenclaw crown.

Such a scenario might seem a bit childish to high school students.

But for a math major who didn't have the chance to speculate on stocks or buy Bitcoin after time-traveling, nor did he almost go to Eton College, but only arrived at Hogwarts Castle to learn magic, it was definitely quite tempting.

"It's all that noseless Tom's fault!" Ian lost his chance to ascend the throne in Ravenclaw.

But Voldemort lost far more than just Merop Gaunt, as Ian had mentioned.

He will actually take away the Horcruxes that the evil mutants hid in the Room of Requirement.

A dreamlike illusion.

That will be its final destination.

"Ms. Mara will love this new toy." Ian tucked the packed Ravenclaw tiara under his arm.

I also picked up a few spellbooks that had lost their owners.

He has always been a very studious student, and the notes of an excellent senior who may have passed away long ago will definitely boost his spell proficiency.

"Click~"

Turn the brass handle of the House of Response.

Ian took one last look around the room, which was filled with a dazzling array of items.

He might not take all the valuable items that have lost their owner, but he will definitely come back to collect some of the valuable goods that can be sold to fund his alchemy studies.

"Good buddy, I'll protect you from now on." Ian touched the wall of the Room of Requirement. He remembered that Hogwarts had always had its own thoughts.

"Actually, I only picked up things nobody wanted. Little Harry, on the other hand, took away someone else's private property without permission. Compared to him, I'm a tiny bit more shameless!"

Ian pulled the all-bronze doorknob and stepped out of the Room of Requirement. However, before he could close the door, he suddenly heard a weak, feeble voice.

"It seems you want to take something out of there, child."

I turned my head to look.

It turned out that the "person" who made the sound was Barnabas from the mural. The troll had stopped beating him and was now sitting under a fruit tree, taking a break and panting.

"Isn't that possible?"

Ian spoke with a hint of doubt.

"If it's something else, of course there's no problem. Unclaimed treasure belongs to the finder and the one who needs it. It's a secret, a romantic legacy of the medieval treasure hunt." This was a kind of intermission for Banaba, who lay on the rock, his swollen buttocks and face staring out of the picture frame.

What he said makes a lot of sense.

If Hogwarts itself did not want later generations to take these things, why would it voluntarily present the lost treasures to them?

That was a hiding place.

If anyone could see it, no one would hide things here.

"Thank you to our ancestors, thank you to the founders, thank you to Hogwarts." Ian expressed his gratitude to everyone without missing a single one, fully demonstrating his thoughtful consideration in sharing the joys and sorrows of everyone.

Barnabas's gaze remained fixed on Ian's armpit, and he spoke again, "I just don't recommend you take that crown; it's been tainted by evil dark magic—"

An unexpected statement.

"You actually knew about this?" Ian asked, somewhat surprised.

Barnabas sighed and nodded. "Back then, I watched that little wizard, who was filled with sin."

The Ravenclaw laurel wreath was hidden in this small room.

Just as Hogwarts witnessed all the secrets that happened here, the murals on the castle walls, which are easily overlooked, have also silently witnessed many stories that have happened.

This made Ian wonder a little.

"Why didn't you tell the professors at the school about this?" He knew that the murals could communicate with wizards outside the school, and some of the figures would even visit other murals to gossip.

"Because that damned guy cast an unspeakable curse on me, I can't tell anyone else who doesn't know the crown is here anything related to it!"

The voice of the fool was full of resentment.

"Until you came to the Laiqu House, I had never seen such a wicked little wizard. I saw in you the decisiveness and ruthlessness that only traditional medieval wizards possessed."

As a wizard from centuries ago, Barnabas has another name for the Room of Requirement, and he doesn't seem to be the fool that everyone thinks he is.

"An elder once taught me that when you're out in the world, kindness will only be a weapon you wield against yourself." Ian doesn't consider himself a bad kid.

Mischievous Ghost can stick directly to someone's face.

He managed to control his subconscious reaction in time and chose the Divine Sharpness Shadowless spell. Out of instinctive self-defense, this was the gentlest offensive spell he currently controlled.

To achieve the effect of rendering someone incapable of retaliating, Ian could only resort to the Imperius Curse, Fiendfyre, and Cruciatus Curse.

Choose one from the following five options: Death Curse, Divine Sword Without Shadow.

If it hadn't happened so suddenly.

Even if a junior wizard were to challenge them directly.

Ian will definitely only use the Dancing Charm and the Ancestral Grave Dance Charm as his countermeasures.

"That's quite rare. You actually adhere to the survival rules of the wanderer."

"Your elders don't seem to come from an academy. Hmm, perhaps that's true. To be able to catch and punish Peeves, you must have an extraordinary ancient bloodline flowing through your veins."

Just moments after Banaba presented a perfectly reasonable and logical deduction, he made it clear that it was no wonder he had been subjected to the troll's wrath in the portrait for so many years.

"Your ancestor may have slept with a female ghost."

He made a judgment with certainty.

It gave Ian the urge to draw a few more giant teddy bears on it.

"But my ancestors certainly weren't spanked by trolls."

Critical hit.

Silly Banaba made a bitter face.

"No matter what, I still don't want you to take that crown. It's too dangerous. You could be doomed because of it. A treasure tainted by dark magic can no longer bring you wisdom." Barnabas continued to persuade Ian, probably thinking that Ian wanted to use the Ravenclaw crown to learn.

"Don't worry, I'll handle this thing properly. I also have some knowledge about the soul, so I'm definitely not stupid enough to put it on my head."

Ian bowed slightly to thank Barnabas for his kindness, then carried the small box containing the crown up the stairs.

The clinking of gold gallons in his pockets and robes was crisp and pleasant.

"Although you seem to be helping Hogwarts solve its problems, I still think you're worse than that person. What kind of first-year wizard starts studying souls...?"

Behind.

Before Banaba could even utter a wistful remark, the giant under the tree in the mural had already finished resting.

He grabbed a large stick from the ground and began a new round of beatings on him.