A wizard in dark green wizard robes sat down next to Gryffindor, his monkey-like face frowning slightly, but his majestic expression and delicate clothing made him look imposing.

"Why do you want to eat those Muggle missionary food?" casually asked, as the eldest of the four, Salazar?? Slytherin was more concerned about the establishment of the school, "Rowena, you are late, we still have a lot to negotiate about the establishment of the school of witchcraft and wizardry. ”

After several days of long discussions, negotiations, and compromises, they agreed on the establishment of a wizarding school, and decided to look for young people who had shown a talent for magic once the school was built, and bring them to the castle to be trained - as far as possible from the old tradition of a wizard with a few apprentices.

However, Slytherin suggested that students should be more selective, not all wizards should be entered, and it was better to limit them to pure-blood families, which Gryffindor and Ravenclaw clearly disapproved, Gryffindor was convinced that anyone who showed a talent for magic should be eligible to study at Hogwarts, and Ravenclaw believed that only those who showed enough intelligence could get into the school - and it was clear that pureblood would not ensure her requirement for this.

But before the three of them could argue, Hufflepuff changed the subject, believing that it would be best to determine the school's address and name before making other plans—though she personally agreed with Gryffindor.

"I dreamed that a warthog had taken me to the cliffs by the lake, and I had found the place a few days late, perfect for building a castle there, so that I could keep away from the prying eyes of Muggles. The corners of Ravenclaw's lips softened a little on his serious face, "As for the name of the school of witchcraft and wizardry that we are going to build, it will be called Hogwarts." ”

When Alan felt that he was finally no longer flying forward, the feeling of his navel being hooked was finally gone, and his feet were firmly on the ground again.

Alan finds himself in a place that is both familiar and strange - this is the Chamber of Secrets left behind by Ravenclaw.

The room in front of me was elegantly decorated with some exotic artistic beauty, and was mainly composed of blue and bronze colors, unlike the white and gold decorations I used when I entered the first year of Hogwarts. The interior features exquisite furnishings and plush carpets, as well as chic artwork. The top of the tower is rounded and decorated with ivory and gold, and the rounded curved crystal chandelier spirals in the air.

The walls are no longer from the Wars of the Roses in the 15th century, but are painted with legends from Celtic mythology, such as the "Long March for the Ox" or the "Invasion and the Gods".

Alan's heart beat faster, and with his familiarity with the tower, he quickly ran to the room where he had met with Ravenclaw in his first grade.

When he was about to walk, Alan slowed down, he tidied up his appearance and dress, and then walked up the steps, hesitated for a few minutes, his breathing smoothed out, he spread the five fingers of his left hand and pasted it on the door, looking down at the gap under the door, the faint light door revealed from behind the heavy wooden door, Alan took a breath and was just about to knock on the door, when a faint female voice came from inside the door: "Come in, the door is not closed." ”

Alan settled himself down, and stepped into the wooden door that opened slowly and spontaneously in front of him—a large, somewhat cold space much larger than the room could fit from the outside, with four walls piled high with bookshelves filled with all sorts of books and scrolls, and spells written in different languages on the backs of their heavy skins.

Bottles and jars of strange shapes and textures were placed on the tables on the four sides of the room, and the white contents of some transparent tubes that pierced through some of the walls seemed to be alive, constantly wriggling, tumbling and boiling inside.

But even the anti-corrosive magic could not stop the faint musty smell wafting through the space of this room, and the smell of spices and strange corruption of potions and herbs made this room smell like Snape's Potions classroom and library mixed together.

Alan caught a glimpse of Ravenclaw sitting behind a huge wraparound stone desk set with sapphires carved from surprisingly large obsidian. Her back was to Allen, but her back looked a little thinner than she had remembered, and the witch was clearly looking at some of the materials and sketching with a black raven quill from time to time.

"Alan, wait a minute, I still have the last three documents. The cold voice of the Ravenclaw, who did not look back, was full of majesty.

The first time he heard the other party call his name, the tone that seemed a little emotionless was completely different from the attachment shown by Ravenclaw, who had just said goodbye to him a few minutes ago, this gap made Allen's footsteps stagnate, and he went around to the chair opposite the stone table, sat down quietly, and waited patiently, but out of nowhere, a thick magic like substance made Alan couldn't help but look around.

Now the founder of the Eagle House sits in what would later be used as a secret room, now her private study room, leaning against a huge stone chair made of unknown material, upholstered with fine velvet upholstery dyed dark blue. When Alan got closer, he discovered that the obsidian desk was engraved with a number of isolated scripts, so that it could be protected from any outside forces or prying eyes that would affect the wizard's work.

The stone table top itself is polished as smooth as a silver mirror. Alan could see the inextinguishable flames floating on the ceiling that emitted this blue-white glow slowly floating, reflecting off the tabletop. Alan looked at Ravenclaw at this time, she looked about thirty years old, her eyes were half-squinted and not fully open, but her downward gaze revealed that they were as sharp and shining as the tip of a spear in a moonlit night, full of wisdom. Her meticulously combed dark brown hair had faded in color, but without any headbands or tiaras, her skin had begun to fade and become pale. Alan judged from this that although there should be unnatural factors for these unnatural fading, Ravenclaw's actual age at this time must be much older than she looks, but the years seem to favor her extraordinarily, at this time, in addition to the above points, she is almost the same as the Ravenclaw she saw in the first grade in the depths of Allen's memory, but her face is haggard and she looks sick.

At this time, she is certainly beautiful, but she is so beautiful that people look up to her, and she dare not have the slightest blasphemy, and even a little intimidating. Her beautiful face frowned slightly, the quill slid slightly, and her magical official signature appeared on the parchment.

Scattered on the table were a variety of horrific and strange objects that were scattered and subtly stacked: books and scrolls, cauldrons and cutters for making potions, some herbs stacked on the parchment paper on the stone table, a few stones that looked very magical were discarded aside, a shriveled human hand that looked unmagical on a cushion was covered by a glass cover carved with intricate scripts, and several sheepskin scrolls were piled in front of the witch—the goal of Ravenclaw's current efforts. Ravenclaw rolled the parchment into a scroll and tossed it to the side of his desk, and Allen's pupils dilated slightly when he noticed the other pages of special texture neatly stacked on her countertop, each scroll was a thin gold leaf page eight inches wide and ten inches long, silver magic writing slowing on its surface as if it were alive—this was where the magic came from.

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