Chapter 137 – Some Bold Guesses
Phineas now seriously doubted whether the pureblood council had long been aware of the mystery surrounding the deaths of several Hogwarts founders. Otherwise, why would they pay such close attention to Hogwarts?
Even if Dumbledore was indeed worthy of attention now, what about before? Since the time of Phineas' great-great-grandfather, Headmaster Black, the pureblood council had maintained a rule of monitoring Hogwarts regularly.
Not to mention Slytherin—good old Hufflepuff was the most mysterious of the four founders. No one knew when she disappeared. It seemed that ever since Ravenclaw's death, there had been no word of her. Yet she had descendants. The well-known Smith family of the wizarding world was descended from Hufflepuff. The Prince family, to which Snape once belonged, was also rumored to be her descendant. But nothing had ever been confirmed. In fact, the Prince line now had only one surviving member—Professor Snape himself—and his surname remained Snape. So the matter seemed settled.
If it was possible that the four founders were still alive, then perhaps it wasn't so far-fetched to believe a god existed in this world.
And if God existed, then perhaps the legend that the Deathly Hallows were tools of the divine wasn't just a tale. That would mean the Deathly Hallows weren't necessarily the only three artifacts of great power in the magical world.
Not to mention that department in the Ministry of Magic—even the Elders didn't fully understand it—the Department of Mysteries.
This department had existed since the founding of the pureblood council, long before the Ministry of magic itself.
Phineas, who had read many historical texts, knew well that the Ministry of Magic had been established where it was because the Department of Mysteries was already there. In other words, one could say the Ministry was born because of that department.
Not to mention the Unspeakable working within. A position where one is strictly forbidden to discuss their duties or reveal any information—it would be hard to believe such secrecy existed unless very grave matters were being concealed.
Only a handful in the wizarding world knew anything about the Department's operations, and Phineas happened to know a little, thanks to his connections with the pureblood council.
This department contained the Time Room, where nearly all the Time-Turners in the wizarding world were stored. However, Phineas seriously doubted whether this room had any true link to the god of time.
After all, there was also the Death Chamber. Those who approached it could hear the voices of lost loved ones, and anyone who stepped through the veiled archway died instantly.
The Ministry's method of execution was to push prisoners through that door. Phineas deeply suspected that the Unspeakable's used this as an opportunity to study the veil—and the truth of death. They needed test subjects.
There was also a Brain Room, which studied thought itself, and a room exploring the nature of magic, among others.
Thinking back, Phineas realized that this department and its chambers might be the closest places to the origin of the world.
Of course, Phineas knew well that the real Unspeakables never appeared in the public eye of the magical world. Those currently working in the Department of Mysteries were stand-ins—individuals whom the wizarding world merely assumed were the department's true operatives.
According to Phineas' knowledge, beneath the current Department of Mysteries existed a hidden structure—the true department. Its layout and facilities were identical to the surface-level offices. Whenever death row prisoners were brought in, it was likely for research conducted by mysterious wizards unknown to the public—these were the real Unspeakables.
They remained silent not only about the department but about themselves. They had no known identities and never revealed anything.
They were invisible, endless, as if they didn't exist at all. That was what made them the true Unspeakables, their unwavering silence.
Phineas—who had only just seen Gryffindor transformed as the giant squid—could never have imagined this. He had suspected many things in the past, but lacked evidence. The revelation that Gryffindor was still alive confirmed many of Phineas' prior suspicions.
When one theory in a series of guesses is proven true and the others can't be disproved, people tend to believe them all.
Even if they weren't entirely true, they likely weren't far from the truth. Especially when dealing with mysteries—mysteries often meant limitless possibilities.
The topic then returned to Phineas' quest for revenge against the vampires. Due to his speculations, he now believed the final reward for this mission might indeed be an artifact. Even if it wasn't, in a world where gods existed and tasks had no upper limits, the reward would certainly be divine in nature.
As such, Phineas considered this a long-term mission—one of great personal importance.
Had he not learned of Gryffindor's survival, he might never have taken the task this seriously.
Before, he may have simply ordered his werewolf wizards to strike the vampires and slowly chip away at their power.
But now, with new insight, Phineas would not just delegate—he would participate personally.
It was only logical: exacting vengeance himself would be far more rewarding than sending subordinates to do it alone.
In short, this mission was now Phineas' own path to earning rewards. A continuous, evolving quest.
Given Phineas' current power, influence, and knowledge, this mission clearly outweighed any investigation into the system's secrets, the world's origins, the existence of gods, or whether the founders still lived.
At least, that was Phineas' belief. He held to one core idea: one must be strong to forge ahead. Compared to uncovering truths that were dangerous or useless at present, it was wiser to increase his own power.
Besides, opportunities and paths forward weren't lacking.
This mission itself was one such opportunity. And then there was the legacy left behind by the founders, and other future quests.
Still, Phineas remained bothered by one thing: his system's achievements had never activated. The so-called achievement rewards had yet to yield even a blade of grass.
The Christmas holidays arrived as scheduled. On the morning of the 18th, the young witches and wizards gathered at the gates of Hogwarts, luggage in hand, and departed in the self-drawn carriages from the castle.