Chapter 192: Oh, Hufflepuff
Early spring in March, Sunday morning.
The rainy season in the Scottish Highlands had not yet passed; it was not sudden storms, but a steady drizzle from morning until evening, neither cold nor hot. Standing on the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower and gazing out, the Forbidden Forest and distant mountains appeared even crisper, occasionally shrouded in mist like a scene from an oil painting.
Hermione clutched her cloth bag and hurried into the Library.
It was already very late after washing up last night; Lavender and Parvati had chatted about gossip until deep into the night, while she lay in bed thinking about Dobby’s salary, Professor Levent’s special implications, the application of Transfiguration in Duelling, her mind a jumble of thoughts, and then she couldn’t sleep.
During breakfast in the Great Hall, Hermione sorted out her future plan and realized there were less than three months until the Final Examination; her review schedule was packed, and she still had to study Duelling in her spare time, which suddenly made her feel urgent.
“Take care of the books!” Madam Pince at the door warned sternly.
Hermione nodded hurriedly, clutched her schoolbag, and rushed into the Library, then stopped in front of the bookshelf in a daze.
It was raining outside, limiting outdoor activities, so the Library was crowded today; plus, she had arrived a bit late, and there were hardly any seats left.
Occasionally there was one or two empty seats, but they were surrounded by unfamiliar older students who were chatting and laughing, clearly a little clique; sitting there uninvited would just make both sides awkward.
Hermione carried her books and scanned the surroundings, walking quietly inward to find a suitable spot. The Hogwarts Library was very spacious, so there was no worry about no seats; it just meant walking a bit further in.
Passing by the seats near the Restricted Section, her peripheral vision caught something, and her footsteps suddenly halted; what entered her sight was the young professor leisurely flipping through a book at the desk.
The little witch was stunned for a moment, then approached with lightened steps: “May I sit next to you, Professor?”
Melvin looked up, somewhat surprised: “Of course.”
Hermione placed her books on the desk, quietly took out her textbook and homework without making any sound, while her gaze swept over the several volumes of books on the table.
《Advanced Dark Magic》
《Herpo: Vileness and Evil》
《Dark Secrets of Magic》
Clearly books from the Restricted Section; was the professor researching some Dark Magic?
The little witch stared at the titles of the books, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, and continued looking to the side.
《Hogwarts: Founders’ Contributions》
《A Journey into Helga Hufflepuff》
《When We Talk About Badgers》
How vast was the professor’s reading range?
Hermione’s brows furrowed even tighter, lost in thought with her own questions.
Half an hour later, Melvin closed his book, raised his hand, and knocked on the little witch’s head: “If you’re going to review, do it properly. What are you always looking over here for? The book in front of you has been stuck on the page about the Unlocking Charm for the past ten minutes. Did Professor Flitwick not explain something clearly? Or do you have any questions? I’m right here; bring them up and I’ll clarify.”
“No questions; Professor Flitwick explained very well.”
Hermione covered her head, hesitated for a moment, then tentatively asked, “Professor, are you researching some Dark Magic? Related to Hufflepuff?”
“Related to Harry.”
“Oh.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose; it sounded like a brush-off. Did the professor think she was some ignorant little wizard?
“Focus on your book and review properly.” Melvin waved his hand, sending the books on the desk back to the bookshelf. “I have a meeting with a friend; I’m off.”
“Goodbye, Professor.”
Hermione politely watched the professor leave the Library and saw a ghost waiting at the door; the two met and left together.
“I thought it was some friend from outside the school; turns out it’s the Fat Friar of Hufflepuff.”
Hermione withdrew her gaze, looking thoughtful. She remembered there was a golden goblet with a badger engraving on the professor’s shelf, very much like Hufflepuff’s Goblet. She had just looked at a lot of materials about Hufflepuff, and now he was meeting with the ghost of Hufflepuff House.
Could Hufflepuff be a Dark Wizard?
……
Underground level one.
Melvin stood in the corner to the right of the Kitchen corridor, chatting with the Fat Friar.
This was the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room; the candlelight was not bright, and there was a pile of old, blackened wooden buckets in the corner, filled with vinegar fermented who knows how long, the sour smell escaping uncontrollably.
To research Hufflepuff’s Goblet, he had to come to Hufflepuff House and chat with Hufflepuff’s ghost.
This Fat Friar ghost was very different from other ghosts; it was said he had been a Healer in life, later becoming a clergyman in the Muggle church, often healing illnesses for farmers and villagers and giving food to the poor.
But he happened to encounter the Witch Hunt; someone discovered his medical skills involved poking people with a thin wooden stick and habitually turning rabbits out of chalices, so he was hanged.
After death, he became a ghost and returned to Hogwarts, cheerful and lively, not at all extreme, mild and kind to everyone, even not getting angry at Peeves.
“The Hufflepuff Lounge has no password. Back then, a Hufflepuff prefect set up a mechanism here to prank Lady Hufflepuff: you must tap the second bucket from the middle in the second row in the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff’s name for the lid to open, revealing the passage to the lounge.”
“What if you tap wrong?” Melvin asked.
“The lid will still open, but it’ll splash the vinegar all over you.”
“Such a prank has been preserved until now?”
“That’s us Hufflepuff.” The Fat Friar raised his chin, a hint of pride on his face.
Melvin tapped in the fixed rhythm, opening the passage to the Hufflepuff Common Room.
It was a simple round hall with a low ceiling—even Hagrid couldn’t stand straight here. The walls were covered in ivy-like vine plants; grapevines climbed along copper frames to the ceiling and draped down. Though underground, sunlight streamed through the windows, with swaying grass and dandelions visible outside.
“This sunlight?” Melvin looked at the Fat Friar.
The Fat Friar grinned: “The Magical Dome was made by Hufflepuff and Lady Ravenclaw together.”
Melvin sat on the yellow-and-black cushioned sofa and discovered there was even underfloor heating, couldn’t help but sigh: “As expected, the most comfortable Common Room among all the Houses.”
“No one regrets coming to Hufflepuff.”
Over the next two hours, the Fat Friar detailed Hufflepuff to Melvin, from the foot-warming copper stoves in the Dormitory to the fruit trees planted in the Courtyard outside, from the House spirit to outstanding alumni… the whole process brimming with proud smiles.
Counting past Ministers of Magic, the most came from Hufflepuff students; founders of wizard settlements in various places were mostly Hufflepuff alumni; Heads of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, renowned Healers—almost all from Hufflepuff House.
Melvin gained a deeper understanding of this House with the badger as its mascot.
Midway, some students returned to the Dormitory from outside and warmly welcomed Melvin’s visit, coming up one by one to greet him.
Among these students were many familiar faces: Hannah, Rolf, Justin, Ernie, Susan… and some wanted to drag Melvin outside to pick not-yet-ripe peaches.
