"So, Professor, I'm here to confirm the safety—"
"For the past century, the four of us have taken turns on duty... fortunately, the protections you left are complete." The old man sat back down in the chair within the painting, his fingers slightly trembling at the edge of the table, "Otherwise, just relying on our portraits, we couldn't possibly stop—"
"Were there intruders who came here?" William stepped back a few paces, standing at the edge of the black pool in the Secret Chamber.
"Charles once sensed someone touching the stone wall outside the door—but they didn't come in." The old man nodded, then shook his head, pulling a magic wand from his sleeve and pointing it towards the black pool at William's feet, gently shaking it—
"Buzz—"
A clear buzzing sound rang out, and the black mirrored surface, initially indistinguishable from the surrounding floor material, began to soften and tremble, soon transforming into numerous pitch-black droplets, slowly flying into the sky. At the same time, a stone platform slowly rose before William along with the buzzing sound.
It was a delicately designed blue-gold stone platform, atop which lay a narrow green wooden box.
"Sniffle?"
Niffler poked its head out from the pocket, its small beady black eyes staring intently at the transparent jewel embedded in the center of the wooden box—as if calculating how to discreetly pry it loose.
Pressing Niffler's head back down, William opened the wooden box, revealing a somewhat uniquely shaped magic wand quietly lying on deep blue velvet.
...Uh, what level of security is this considered?
Grasping the wand in his hand, a sense of stagnation began to appear within his body, and William could even feel the magic power that originally flowed through him seemingly choosing to stop in its tracks; this feeling of magical blockage was quite uncomfortable.
"Specialis Revelio! (Manifest Original!)"
Deep blue light blossomed from the tip of the wand, and in the next moment, the light began to converge, a blurred circular shadow began to gather at the bottom of the pool, pure white light slowly emerged, and countless complex emotions—joy, anger, pain—started to intertwine in William's heart.
"Guard your heart—" Percival's expression was somewhat anxious.
"Finite Incantatem! (End Spell!)", with William's low shout, the pale light began to gradually recede, and the object hidden at the bottom of the pool finally revealed its true form.
It was a loosely structured "sphere," quietly floating in the air, emitting faint weak white lights all around—
"The Secret Vault... hasn't changed much." Looking at the sphere that was no different from memory, William put down the wand in his hand, the feeling of magical stagnation finally disappeared, and he sighed comfortably.
The Secret Vault, the Emotion Magic container, the world-destroying boom shakalaka... this thing can have many names.
"Unchanging can be a good thing sometimes—" A sudden female voice rang out.
William looked up; the leftmost painting had changed at some point, where there once was an empty canvas now stood a woman in a red robe, the background behind her looked very familiar, despite the difference in decor, William could recognize it as the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts.
"Professor Jerard."
The woman nodded towards William, her voice feigned calm but hidden excitement, "I sensed the Secret Vault was opened—William, I thought you had..." She didn't finish speaking, but the meaning in her words was evident.
"... Don't Professors Rookwood and Bakar plan to come over?" William didn't answer, looking at the two other blank paintings and asked.
"Their connection to Hogwarts isn't as strong—" The woman shook her head, "What's wrong?"
"I just didn't want to explain the same question four times..."
...
"What? William, you promised us—"
Professor Jerard's reaction compared to Professor Lachham moments ago was even more overwhelming; she stared at William, speaking word by word, the aura belonging to the headmaster began to emanate from her.
"Fitzgerald, William is still young; a few mistakes are normal—" Percival shook his head, interrupting Fitzgerald's lecture.
"Normal? This... Alright, fortunately nothing went wrong." The woman sighed, somewhat helplessly.
"Cough, cough... Professor, I went to the Headmaster's Office a week ago—" William coughed twice, starting to change the subject.
"That day I went to St Mungo's Hospital—they hung my portrait in the corridor." The woman, as if recalling something, continued, "So, should I inform the current headmaster about the situation here? The professor might be a help."
"Can he... be trusted?"
William remembered the old man seemingly "visually impaired"—
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, widely regarded as the greatest wizard of the age, known for contributions including: defeating the Black Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, discovering twelve uses of Fire Dragon Blood, and significant accomplishments in Alchemy with partner Nicolas Flamel; Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.
These lengthy titles William already knew by heart, for no reason other than—the frequent appearance rates of Dumbledore cards in Chocolate Frogs, which led him to suspect the candy company's manager might be a fan of Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore can be trusted; he should be the most—kind person I've met." After pondering for a moment, the woman gave a highly favorable assessment.
"...No, still better not; living people can't keep secrets." William shook his head; he hadn't concealed things from these guardians, not only because they were just images, but mainly because they shared common interests with him.
And as for Dumbledore… To be honest, William found it hard to see through him.
"Alright." The woman nodded without saying more.
......
"Squeak, squeak..."
"That stone really can't be pried... I'll find something brighter for you later?"
Half an hour later, William was already on a journey to find the Hufflepuff Common Room—and had been lost for fifteen minutes.
"Sniff!"
"Alright, definitely brighter and bigger—" Chatting casually with Niffler perched on his shoulder, William fretted over the map in his hand—he only knew he should be on the first floor, but how to get to the entrance hall... uh...
"Meow—"
Suddenly, a somewhat raspy cat call sounded.
"Is it you?" William, unlike other little wizards, did not fear hearing this sound while night roaming; he squatted down. Soon, an extremely skinny stray cat emerged from under the armor beside the hallway, quickly walking to William's feet, diligently rubbing against him.
"You're so thin."
Picking up Mrs. Loris, looking at her dry belly, William sighed, "Know the way to the Hufflepuff Common Room? I'll take you to the kitchen to catch some breeze—"
"Meow."
Mrs. Loris nodded, gently wriggling free from William's hands, leading the way ahead.
"Perhaps I should talk to Mr. Filch about your health—"
Before William stood up, he seemed to sense something, quickly turning around, a red shadow flashed in his peripheral vision—