0399 The Ruins

0399 The Ruins

Magic follows rules!

If Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tried to bypass the rules and enter the lava lake below through sheer force, all the remaining defensive magic in this magical ruin would likely erupt instantly. In that case, the entire island of Azkaban might even be overturned into the sea.

Ravenclaw remained silent, her ice-blue pupils flickering with light as her gaze swept across the entire cave.

"Have you found anything, Rowena?"

Deciphering secrets was clearly not Godric Gryffindor's forte. After glancing around the cave a few times, he frustratingly gave up searching and placed his hope on Ravenclaw.

Bryan and Sirius both turned their attention to Ravenclaw. They knew she would certainly find a path to the boiling lava lake, but they were curious about how she would accomplish it.

As Bryan gazed at the profile of this powerful and beautiful legendary witch, his brow suddenly furrowed.

Since boarding the ship with the two Hogwarts founders, Bryan had been overwhelmed by one secret after another, leaving him no energy to properly observe the diadem worn by this legendary witch.

To outsiders, Ravenclaw's diadem might be considered a famous artifact with precious historical value. But In reality, none of the relics left by the Four Founders were simple. For instance, as Ravenclaw was immersed in thought, her Diadem of Wisdom constantly flickered with crystalline light, clearly providing her with some form of assistance.

Long moments passed, filled only with the ominous rumbling of the lava far below and the barely perceptible hum of magic that permeated the very air around them. Then, almost imperceptibly at first, a smile began to touch Ravenclaw's lips.

"I've recalled something Salazar once shared with me,"

Gryffindor's eyebrows rose in interest, his earlier frustration giving way to curiosity. "Oh? And what might that be?"

It was in this moment that Bryan realized the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin was far better than later historical accounts would have made people believe. There was no trace of the rumored animosity or disgust in Gryffindor's voice as he spoke of Slytherin, but he rather asked with great interest.

Ravenclaw's eyes sparkled as she continued, "Salazar once told me that the earliest recorded Parselmouth in magical history was none other than Herpo the Foul himself."

Gryffindor's expression shifted to one of dawning comprehension, tinged with a hint of regret. "You mean to say—" he began, before shaking his head regretfully. "I should have dragged that secretive old serpent out of his gloomy dungeon far earlier."

Bryan's brow furrowed as well, suddenly remembering how the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

"It's alright—" Ravenclaw blinked offering a reassuring smile. "I once asked Salazar to teach me some rudimentary Parseltongue. While I'm not fluent in Parseltongue, I did take the precaution of recording several key phrases and incantations."

Sirius, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout much of their journey, suddenly spoke up.

"Harry's a Parselmouth too, isn't he?"

These little creatures took pride in serving wizards, considering it the meaning of their lives. This distorted notion was imprinted on their very souls, which is why they were viewed as property rather than living beings by the wizards who used them.

But Bryan was certain that even in today's wizarding world, those pure-blood supremacist families who had inherited such harshness and prejudice would find it hard not to be moved by this sight!

"Kreacher..."

With Bryan's comfort, Sirius's complexion finally improved somewhat, but he still covered his mouth.

"What would Kreacher say if he saw this?" Sirius whispered, breathing heavily. But then he shook his head answering his own question,

"Kreacher would probably consider this the highest honor. He dreams of having his head cut off after death and hanging it next to my mother's portrait."

Fierce anger flashed in Bryan's eyes.

House-elves were not unfamiliar magical creatures to him, but in the past, he had indeed not paid much attention to these beings. However, this horrific scene laid out before him had served as a brutal awakening.

Wasn't this too absurd?

Look at the goblins, the centaurs, werewolves, vampires, leprechauns, veela, and even gnomes!

What other species would embrace such an extreme philosophy of existence? What twisted circumstances could lead an entire race to consider absolute slavery to another species as the highest expression of their lives's purpose?

"Helga would likely be driven to the brink of madness if she were to witness this atrocity,"

Gryffindor's voice was thick with emotion. He had sheathed his sword, recognizing that destroying the staircase would only trap them at the top of the cliff. Yet the act of restraint seemed to pain him physically, his hand still resting on the hilt of his weapon as if longing to strike out against this monument to cruelty.

Gryffindor's eyes took on a distant look. "Helga has always wanted to remove the vicious curse on these little ones. If she saw the torture these little fellows endured, she'd probably go mad with rage."

Bryan found his mind wandering to the wizarding world he knew - a thousand years ahead from this time, but in many ways still grappling with the same prejudices and injustices. While the treatment of house-elves had undoubtedly improved in some respects, it was still far from what one might consider humane or just. One can imagine what kind of life these little ones lived in the closed wizarding society of a thousand years ago, where honor and bloodline were still mainstream.

Among the four close friends who had founded Hogwarts, Helga Hufflepuff had always been renowned for her gentle nature and boundless kindness. It was not difficult to imagine that she alone might have extended her compassion to these humble, pitiful creatures that others overlooked or disdained.

"The origins of house-elves have long been shrouded in mystery," Ravenclaw said, her eyes never leaving the grotesque staircase before them. "Since the earliest days of organized wizarding society, these creatures have been serving wizards. Yet almost no one in our time has thought to find about their true origins.

Now, faced with this abomination, I fear we may have stumbled upon a truth more horrific than we could have imagined. It seems likely that they were created here, brought into existence as slaves."

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