After teasing the gargoyle guarding the door, Wien’s mood had improved considerably, and he entered the passage with a cheerful gait.
Inside, a rotating staircase was automatically carrying him to the door.
The door was shut tightly, and a lion-headed griffin-shaped bronze knocker adorned it.
Wien could feel a powerful magical fluctuation emanating from the knocker. It was a fantastic magic item.
If any wizard attempted to forcibly break through the wooden door to the Headmaster's office, it would transform into a bronze lion-headed griffin beast and attack.
This magical creature was incredibly powerful, ranking in the 5X category, no less formidable than a fire dragon.
“Hogwarts truly has deep roots,” Wien sighed inwardly, feeling a surge of desire to pry the knocker off and install it in his own home.
He could not make an alchemical item of this caliber yet.
But Wien merely pondered this idea.
After all, he couldn’t beat old Albus.
Like Cedric touching the Firebolt 2000, Wien played with the knocker for a while before pushing open the door.
The Headmaster’s office was a magnificent circular room, with a very high ceiling and excellent lighting.
It was four in the afternoon. Warm sunshine streamed into the room, bathing the gemstones in a faint fluorescence.
“Such extravagance… I don’t even indulge in such extravagance,” Wien mumbled.
While other parts of Hogwarts typically used oil lamps and candles for illumination, the Headmaster's office relied on gemstones.
Dumbledore was not in the room. Wien casually found a soft chair to sit on, surveying the layout of the office.
The most prominent feature was undoubtedly the books. Nearly half of the wall was covered with bookshelves reaching the ceiling, equipped with a spiral staircase for easy access.
Next, on the other half of the wall, were the portraits.
Although there was nobody else present, Wien constantly felt a multitude of gazes watching him.
Yet, whenever he turned his head, the portraits remained completely unresponsive, like those of Muggles, utterly still.
Near the large desk, a stone basin rested on a high stool. Wien knew that was the Pensieve, a valuable memory storage and playback device.
He wanted to take it.
What was happening? As soon as he entered this room, Wien felt a desire to take everything home with him.
On the other side of the desk, a full-length mirror leaned against the wall. It was very tall, with a large part of the mirror body concealed by velvet cloth, exposing only the frame and a small section of the mirror surface.
“Hey, you there, lad,” a sharp voice suddenly came from behind him. Wien turned around.
One portrait had ‘come to life’.
“You’ve been staring at it for ages now. Do you know what it is?”
Wien walked over. It was a man with a goatee, wearing a silver-green robe.
The plaque below the portrait provided his introduction: “Phineas Nigellus Black (1847-1925)”
Wien shook his head: “It’s covered up. How could I possibly know what it is?”
“Hmph, so uncultured,” Phineas stroked his goatee, his expression overflowing with disdain.
“That’s the Mirror of Erised, the Mirror of Erised. Do you know what it is?”
Wien adopted a posture of attentive listening.
“It can show you the deepest, most intense desire of your heart. Do you want to know what you most yearn for at this moment?”
Phineas tempted him: “Give it a try. Dumbledore’s been staring at the mirror until the wee hours these days, almost gone mad.”
“Not interested,” Wien waved his hand dismissively, returning to his seat with boredom.
“I want everything and nothing at the same time. It would be pointless to look.”
This wasn’t a lie to Phineas; it was Wien’s true reflection.
He was fascinated by everything, but his feelings weren’t particularly strong.
Because Wien was aware that he could eventually obtain whatever he desired.
This was the confidence of a person who stood above the rest.
Phineas was caught off guard by Wien’s reaction.
“No, you haven’t even looked yet, and you’re already boasting?”
Wien glanced at him: “No wonder you’re the most unpopular Headmaster in school history. You meddle in everything under the sun. Can you even control whether I look at a mirror?”
“So many issues even after death. Serves you right to be cursed with so many complaints.”
There was a brief silence in the room, followed by uproarious laughter.
Those silent Headmasters finally couldn’t hold it back anymore, each of them collapsing in fits of laughter.
One Headmaster with a large nose pointed at Phineas: “Black, this is your day! You’ve actually been scolded by a student!”
A plump woman clapped her hands in delight: “As expected of our Hufflepuff wizard. His judgment is impeccable!”
“Don’t laugh! Don’t you dare laugh!” Phineas jumped up in a fit of anger. “Damn little wizard, if I were still alive, I’d expel you instantly!”
“Then come back to life!” Wien spread his hands, his mind continuously receiving notifications about earning points.
Wow, even scolding former Headmasters gave points?
What a bonus.
Phineas was enraged by his attitude.
“You little brat! You bunch of Hufflepuff fools! You’re destined to be cooks and shopkeepers all your lives!”
This was it. Phineas’s verbal barrage had offended all the Headmasters who came from Hufflepuff.
One particularly bad-tempered Headmaster couldn’t take it anymore. He vanished from his frame, appearing instantly in Phineas’s frame, raising his fist and striking Phineas’s nose.
The other Hufflepuff Headmasters weren’t to be outdone, charging forward to engage in righteous mob violence.
Phineas screamed in pain. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Headmasters cheered from the sidelines, while the Slytherin Headmasters were unwilling to help.
Although they were all from Slytherin, Phineas was too foul-mouthed. He’d been hanging around for less than a hundred years, and had already managed to offend almost everyone.
Wien watched the Headmaster brawl with a smile, nodding approvingly from time to time.
Look at that side kick, how powerful. And this Black Tiger Claw, so authentic.
Indeed, the ultimate form of a mage is close combat, the kind that doesn’t even require a wand.
Just as Wien was enjoying the spectacle, the door to the Headmaster’s office was pushed open.
Dumbledore walked in. He was startled by the chaotic scene, then glanced at the untouched velvet cloth, and looked at Wien with a smile.
“Seems like I’m a little late?”
“No, Headmaster,” Wien shook his head. “You’re right on time.”
“If you’d been any later, Phineas would have been beaten to death.”