I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 284 It's you I choose, Ron Ball!

The author of "A History of Hogwarts," which Miss Granger loved to study, expressed deep admiration and praise for the founder of Hufflepuff.

At the beginning of the story, the four founders created Hogwarts together, and the author maintained a neutral stance.

However, with the departure of the other three founders, Hufflepuff became a soloist in history, where her hard work and intelligence were fully demonstrated.

During Hufflepuff's long years running Hogwarts alone, she laid a solid foundation for the world's greatest magic school. Almost all of Hogwarts' rules and management practices are her invaluable legacy, including the highly acclaimed House Cup. This award not only represents competition between houses but also serves as encouragement and recognition for outstanding students.

Throughout nearly a thousand years of history, almost all historians of magic consider Hufflepuff one of the greatest wizards and educators in magical history. Her wisdom, magnanimity, and dedication have earned her the praise and respect of posterity. As the first headmistress of Hogwarts, Helga Hufflepuff not only continued the traditions of the other three founders but also added new characteristics to the school with her unique leadership style.

Hufflepuff's greatest achievement during her term was pioneering the admission of Muggle-born wizards into the school. Although this idea had been proposed during the time of the Big Four, progress in practice had been slow.

At the time, the wizarding world generally considered magic sacred and not to be defiled by Muggles. Furthermore, many Muggles, upon discovering magical talent in children, would immediately label them evil and kill them. It was against this backdrop that Headmaster Hufflepuff bravely spearheaded this work.

After the deaths of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, the benevolent Hufflepuff became Headmistress of Hogwarts. Shortly after taking office, she defied public opinion and the opposition of many pure-blood wizarding families, further expanding the enrollment of Muggle students. At its peak, Hogwarts' student body covered all of Europe and the Mediterranean region, with over 50,000 students.

It is worth mentioning that the tuition and living expenses of these Muggle students were all borne by Headmistress Hufflepuff, which undoubtedly exhausted her family's wealth, leaving her with only her most cherished golden cup.

Hufflepuff's actions were met with opposition and resistance from the mainstream wizarding world, primarily composed of pure-blood wizarding families. Even her descendants, as well as those of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, disapproved of her approach. However, her unwavering faith and selfless dedication ultimately enabled Hogwarts to overcome its difficulties and gradually prosper.

Under Hufflepuff's leadership, Hogwarts gradually became a cradle for outstanding wizards, and its graduates became the backbone of the wizarding world. Many of them were Muggle-born and had faced the fate of being burned at the stake, but Hogwarts and Helga Hufflepuff saved them and provided them with a new home.

These students gradually became the dominant force in the magical world, changing the magical world dominated by pure-blood wizard families, and even altering the trajectory of the entire history of magic.

Despite Hufflepuff's immense efforts in the last ten years of her life, she eventually passed away. However, her efforts were not in vain; Hogwarts gradually became a highly regarded magic school, and its educational model was increasingly accepted and recognized.

The wizards trained by Headmaster Hufflepuff have become pillars of the magical world, inheriting Hufflepuff's wisdom, magnanimity, and dedication, and continuously driving the development of the magical world.

Although Headmistress Hufflepuff has passed away, her spirit and legacy will forever remain in the hearts of Hogwarts and the wizarding world. Her story and spirit have become a model for countless people to learn from and emulate, injecting new vitality and strength into the entire wizarding world.

No matter how times change, Helga Hufflepuff's great contributions and lofty status will forever remain in people's hearts.

Of course, keeping it in one's heart also means that another situation may arise.

Throughout history, some dark wizards with ulterior motives have tried desperately to find Lady Hufflepuff's grave at Hogwarts.

Although historical records indicate that Lady Hufflepuff was almost penniless before her death and left behind virtually nothing, some narrow-minded individuals still believe that the legendary wizard's coffin must contain priceless treasures.

However, such behavior has invariably drawn strong criticism from successive Hogwarts headmasters.

To this day, everyone knows that this great woman sleeps in Hogwarts, but no one has ever found her final resting place.

Late at night.

Irving, however, did not rest.

After waiting for the other three in the dormitory to fall asleep, he quietly went to the common room alone and knocked on the third oak barrel from the right under the portrait of Lady Hufflepuff.

"What's wrong? Aren't you going to rest?" the portrait of Lady Hufflepuff said kindly.

"I'm a little hungry," Irving replied, looking up.

"Hmm—don't eat too much. Eating too much before bed will affect your digestion and sleep." Accompanied by the "click-clack" sound and Ms. Hufflepuff's kind reminder.

The wooden barrels in front of Irving, resembling a gate, seemed to recede into the sides like bricks from Diagon Alley.

This leads to the kitchens of Hogwarts.

It is the place that Hufflepuff wizards visit most often.

"I understand, ma'am." Owen greeted the portrait of Lady Hufflepuff, then crouched down and carefully slipped inside.

The passageway was narrow and low; it was clearly not designed for wizards.

Thankfully, he's only in fourth grade. I wonder how those sixth or seventh graders manage to get through here.

At the end of the road, push open a door with a green handle.

Suddenly, everything became clear.

Inside was a large room with a high ceiling, the same size as the auditorium above. Many gleaming copper pots and basins were piled up along the stone walls, and at the other end of the room was a large brick fireplace.

"Uh—what are you guys doing here?"

Hundreds of green figures gathered around the edge of the table, which was exactly the same as the long table in the auditorium.

Several familiar figures were gathered there.

The one in the lead was a girl with brown hair and wearing a black robe.

"I thought your party wasn't over yet." Owen looked at them. To be fair, it was normal for Gryffindor to celebrate for a week.

"What's there to celebrate?" Hermione said, her head bowed, a slight unease hidden beneath her hair.

The love letters Owen read aloud in the auditorium during the day still echoed in her ears.

She was both pleasantly surprised and somewhat resentful of him.

—Using someone else's tone, or rewriting someone else's love letter, is absolutely awful.

Shouldn't that kind of thing come from one's heart?

Really.

Miss Granger felt inexplicably angry as those images flashed through her mind.

"Uh—" Well, that's so Granger.

Owen immediately turned to look at Ron beside her, as well as Harry and the twins.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously, craning his neck forward.

Then they heard Ron say with a slight upturn of his lips, "Horse, go for H3."

Then, he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to die!" he said. "I've won!"

On a clean, long table, Ron was playing chess with an old elf.

It looks really old.

The excess fat on his face hung down, and the layers of wrinkles looked terrifying.

Its milky-yellow eyes were cloudy, and its long white fur drooped from its ears onto its face. This house-elf was at least two hundred years old, Owen guessed.

"My esteemed Master Weasley, Tucker has lost. Tucker will tell you all the secrets he knows."

"Tucker? Your name is Tucker?" Hermione frowned. What an odd name. It was the first time she had ever heard the name of this elf, who was possibly the oldest in Hogwarts history.

"Yes, Your Excellency. Tucker's name is Tucker," he said, as if talking to himself.

Then he slowly climbed down from the long table.

"Miss Weasley loves Tucker the most. Tucker is the fourth Tucker."

"The fourth generation?" Hermione asked.

"Miss Weasley?" Ron and the twins exchanged a glance; they were certain it wasn't Ginny. It was most likely referring to Shane Weasley.

They're close to the truth!

The little sprites around them all consciously dispersed.

This is unlike them at all. Most of the time, they would swarm around you noisily like bees, chattering and asking the visiting little wizard what he needed. They wanted to present you with everything, being a little too enthusiastic.

Even the young wizards of Hufflepuff couldn't withstand it.

Now, unexpectedly, they didn't swarm around. Apart from Dobby, who happily ran over to greet Owen, no other elf came forward.

"Sir!" Dobby was wearing a children's suit, which looked like it had been made to his own. Although his cheerful appearance always seemed out of place with his clothes, it had to be said that Dobby was starting to look more and more like a free man.

As Dobby called for Owen, the old elf glanced back at them, a hint of relief flashing in its cloudy eyes, and its expression gradually becoming more relaxed.

Hermione witnessed all of this.

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she keenly realized that there must be a secret here.

Following the elf's earlier mutterings, she asked, "You are...you are the fourth generation of Tucker, what does that mean? Tucker IV? And before you?"

"Tucker is the name Miss Weasley gave me; it's a symbol of friendship, and every Tucker is chosen by Miss Weasley! I was chosen by Miss Weasley over two hundred years ago."

"Two hundred years ago?" Miss Granger began to ponder.

According to the information provided by Owen, the previous generation of ancient magic heirs should have appeared between 1880 and 1890, which is about a hundred years ago.

Two hundred years ago, the successor was very likely to be the Hufflepuff Headmistress, Bridget Weasley.

As expected, there is a deep connection between the heir and the elf.

Miss Granger felt this deeply.

Then, guided by the elves, the young wizards soon discovered that a section of the kitchen wall seemed different from the rest of the room.

It has a noticeable bulge.

Then, the little elf named Tucker walked over and gently slid his finger down the wall.

"boom!"

The slightly protruding wall suddenly sprang outwards. Then it moved to the right, revealing a pitch-black space.

"What's this?" The twins took the lead and went in.

As soon as I entered, I noticed that the temperature had dropped a bit.

"This is the kitchen's cold storage!" They realized where they were.

The little elf didn't stop guiding; it stepped over the cold storage steps and went inside, continuing to walk further in.

The cold storage was extremely cold and pitch black, without a single ray of light, like a giant beast opening its mouth to devour its prey.

"The fireflies are twinkling."

They were certainly not afraid of the darkness.

They raised their wands and walked straight inside.

"This place looks at least a thousand years old." The twins shivered; as the vanguard of adventurers, they had already begun recording the route. "Look—this place isn't even on the Marauder's Map."

Holding up a map, he said, "After we went into the cold storage, the name disappeared from the map."

"It seems your predecessors haven't been here before," Owen joked. They knew who created this map; it wasn't a secret last year.

"That's true." He sighed. "After all, they're a bunch of Gryffindors. Why would they come here?"

"Hey! We come here all the time," the twins said indignantly. "We always feel like you're mocking us!"

"Look at these engravings!" Hermione focused all her attention on the walls around her, rather than on Owen's boring conversation with the twins.

"What are all these?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"It looks like Celtic script." Harry looked at it with a smattering of understanding. He could recognize the script because he had learned some of it at school, but he didn't know what it meant.

"This is the menu!" Miss Granger said. "It must have been left by Ms. Hufflepuff."

Now she was certain that this place did indeed have a history of over a thousand years.

"Heh—that means this dish has been eaten for over 1,600 years. Damn it, not a single innovation!" Owen smacked his lips, clearly annoyed.

"Forehead"

The little wizard turned to look at him, speechless.

Is this what they mean by "as expected of Hufflepuff"?

Your focus is really weird!

The group started chatting.

After passing through a cold storage filled with all kinds of meat, we gradually reached the end.

On the frost-covered wall, a heavy, dark blue iron door was clearly visible.

The main gate was no different from those in other places.

Besides the way the door is opened.

"This—" Ron looked at the bronze door in surprise.

It turned out that there was a wizard's chessboard on the gate, which was at least a dozen feet high and five feet wide.

Moreover, it's a game in progress.

Black has been checkmated.

"The way to open the door isn't by playing chess, is it?!" George stared incredulously at the chessboard in front of him, then reached out and pulled Ron over.

"Go! Ron! It's time to shine!"

Ron rolled his eyes at his two older brothers, then moved closer.

"Hmm—" He reached up and rested his chin on his hand, his eyes fixed on the chessboard.

That one look took a full three or four minutes.

"Hey!" Fred shouted impatiently, "Are you even capable of this?!"

"I need to study this for a while longer!" Ron shouted, staring irritably at the chessboard on the door.

Black is at a huge disadvantage.

They can only struggle for three more steps before being checkmated.

He clutched his long hair, which had already reached past his ears. He couldn't think of a way out of this predicament no matter what he did.

Hermione, however, had already turned her gaze to the top of the door.

There was a stone sculpture there, like a mural in an Egyptian pyramid.

The stone carving depicts a group of people gathered together, kneeling and reaching out their right hands to touch a cup-shaped vessel suspended in the air in front of them.

That's—the Holy Grail?

As a wizard born into a Muggle family, Hermione immediately thought of Christ's Holy Grail.

But then I thought—no, that's not the Holy Grail, that should be the Hufflepuff's golden cup.

Are people worshipping the golden cup?

What does this mean?

As the most famous of the founder's relics (the gold cup receives more attention than other relics), its function has long been thoroughly studied. The gold cup can turn water into wine, but other than that, it seems to have no other use.

Therefore, people are not worshipping the golden cup; it is merely a symbol, just as the background of a church's coat of arms is the Holy Grail. The cup itself is not important; what matters is its owner.

Jesus—Hufflepuff.

"This door?" Through the surrounding walls and the stone carvings on the door, Hermione had a vague idea in her mind.

As for Irving, his speculation goes deeper.

The moment he saw the stone carvings on the bronze door, he guessed that the door might lead to Lady Hufflepuff's tomb.

If so, that would also explain why no wizard has ever found Lady Hufflepuff's grave in 1,600 years.

After all, wizards from other houses rarely come to the kitchen, and Hufflepuff's young wizards would never have the idea of ​​digging up the grave of their own founder.

Thus, it is perfectly logical that no one discovered the secret of Hufflepuff for over a thousand years.

The only question is, why would Dean Bridget call this place the Weasley family's treasure?

Shouldn't this be Mrs. Hufflepuff's treasure?

Layers of mystery shrouded the castle, and the group of them were like children wandering into a maze, relying solely on their senses to find their way.

Fortunately, there don't seem to be any external enemies this year.

The secrets that are everywhere are a headache.

"So, why do we need to go through the door?"

Owen, holding his wand behind him, said to himself, "Get out of the way. If you can't open the door, can't you just break down the wall?"

He knew absolutely nothing about Wizard's Chess.

He didn't have time to ponder things that only idle people have time to study.

So—why not use the most classic method of robbing a bank?

Blow up the wall!

With a loud "boom," it was simple and brutal.

"Stop!" Hermione quickly stopped Owen. "What are you doing? This is a castle. Besides, what if there's some kind of magical protection on the walls?"

"We can go back and study the game record at our own pace."

She watched Owen warily, afraid that he might actually cast a spell on her.

Then the walls collapsed, and the room collapsed too. Then they buried them all.

I just called you Hufflepuff.

Is it not anymore?

As she spoke, she quickly glared at Ron, who immediately understood and said, "My grandfather is the world champion of the Wizard Chess Tournament, he can definitely solve this game."

As he spoke, he looked down at the little elf beside him, "It didn't say we couldn't ask for outside help, did it?"

"Of course, Tucker won't stop any method of solving the game except by forcefully breaking down the gate." The sprite stared, its huge nose almost covering its mouth.

Then everyone retreated.

Irving didn't have any objections; it would be better if the kitchen's secret could be solved, but he wouldn't lose anything if he couldn't.

Next, the twins and Ron caught up with the elves and asked them all sorts of questions.

The focus was entirely on Miss Weasley.

However, the ordinary little elves seemed unaware of this, and Tucker, the only one who knew the inside story, said nothing.

There was nothing else they could do but give up and prepare to try again another day.

It was getting late, and everyone was tired.

Only someone with an iron will like Miss Granger could endure staying awake. Others simply didn't have her ability to stay up all night.

It was around midnight.

Irving said goodbye to them, and he pushed aside a wine barrel leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, revealing the passageway that led directly to the Hufflepuff common room.

Then, amidst the envious gazes of Harry and the others, he slipped inside.

"Want to come along?" Owen bent over, turned around with difficulty in the corridor, and waved to the Gryffindor students. "Come to our common room. If you run into Professor McGonagall or Filch on your way back to the eighth floor at this hour, you'll definitely get points deducted. Professor McGonagall will absolutely eat you alive then."

"Our Hufflepuff common room has all kinds of hammocks, or you can come to my dorm room, it's very spacious, there's definitely enough room for several beds."

Upon hearing this, both the twins and Harry were intrigued.

They had never been inside Hufflepuff's lounge.

I heard that it's the most comfortable of the four houses at Hogwarts.

This made them really want to experience it.

Moreover—Owen makes a good point. It would be dangerous to rush back to the eighth floor now, not to mention they are exhausted. Harry doesn't want to walk another step.

"No need!" Miss Granger stepped forward and made the decision for the boys behind her. She tilted her head back, looking displeased. "We have our own beds!"

"But—Hufflepuff's beds are softer, believe me, it's true!" someone suddenly said out of the blue.

In an instant, Miss Granger's expression changed.

She turned her head away, refusing to look him in the eye, and then, as if in a huff, dragged Harry and Ron away from the kitchen.

「Tsundere!」(`へ*)ノ

"Hmph—" With that, Irving turned and went back to hug his big, soft bed.

(End of this chapter)