Chapter 212 — Clues to Hufflepuff's Chamber of Secrets (Part 2)
Though Phineas had never witnessed a scene like this before, its backdrop was oddly familiar. It was a part of Hogwarts rarely visited by young witches and wizards—yet often dreamed about.
The Forbidden Forest.
Phineas could hardly believe it. After all the time and effort he had spent, the clue to Hufflepuff's inheritance had been hiding in plain sight. The engraving on the iron cauldron reminded him of something he had seen before—similar patterns on candles within Hogwarts Castle, with the Forbidden Forest in the background. Even murals in the Hogwarts kitchens bore a resemblance to that same forest.
Unlike the other founders, Hufflepuff had not gone out of her way to hide her legacy. Instead, she had placed the clues openly—perhaps too openly. Most people expected such secrets to be concealed through riddles and layers of mystery, so they ignored the obvious signs altogether.
Phineas chuckled bitterly at himself. He felt like a fool.
With his mind now focused, the underground space no longer felt vast and empty without reason. Its scale made sense. If this place was connected to the Forbidden Forest, then perhaps Hufflepuff's secret chamber was somewhere within the forest itself.
But the forest was enormous—so vast it spanned much of the Scottish Highlands. Though he had joked earlier that this underground chamber seemed to hollow out the entire Forbidden Forest, the exaggeration now felt far less absurd.
Still, the clue was vague. "The Forbidden Forest" was hardly a precise location. Trying to locate a hidden chamber in such a vast space was like searching for a single hair in a haystack.
Phineas sighed and turned toward Duoduo, who had been silently waiting for him.
"All right, Duoduo. Let's go back."
The house-elf nodded. "Yes, Master Black. Would you like to walk back, or shall I take you directly?"
Phineas blinked. "You can take me directly? Then why did we walk all this way in the first place?"
Duoduo froze. Then, with sudden realization, he began to slam his head against the stone wall. "So many bad things, so many stupid things!"
Phineas quickly intervened, exasperated. This was why he disliked house-elves from public institutions and other families—they were too stiff and bound by rules. The Black family's house-elves, trained by him since childhood, were far more adaptable.
"Enough! I order you to stop punishing yourself."
Immediately, Duoduo halted. His forehead was already bleeding, and he turned around, wide-eyed and tearful, awaiting his master's next instruction.
"Take me back," Phineas said tiredly. "I need rest."
With a snap of his fingers, Duoduo grabbed Phineas's hand, and they vanished.
The next moment, they were back in the Hogwarts kitchen.
George and Fred were still there, snacking on fruit, pudding, and other post-meal treats. Seeing Phineas return, they looked up curiously. Phineas gave them a small nod—then shook his head, signaling not to ask questions just yet.
The three grabbed some food and left the kitchen, weaving through corridors until they reached the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor.
After making sure the door was sealed tightly, George turned to Phineas.
"So? Any clues?"
Fred watched with equal anticipation.
Phineas nodded, then shook his head again.
Fred frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? Do you have a clue or not?"
Phineas let out a weary sigh. "Yes… but it's not much help."
That only deepened their curiosity. Both boys leaned forward as Phineas began to recount everything—the underground funeral of the house-elves, the cauldron, and the carvings he had recognized.
George and Fred looked disturbed as they listened. While they weren't particularly sympathetic to house-elves—understanding their role in wizarding society—they were unsettled by the idea of elves being used even after death.
What truly shook them, however, was the idea that Hufflepuff might not be the benevolent figure history painted her to be.
Phineas continued, "In the end, I found a clue on the cauldron. When combined with other things I've seen, I'm certain the treasure is somewhere in the Forbidden Forest."
Fred blinked. "Then why the head shake?"
"Because that's the only clue I have," Phineas replied. "Just… 'the Forbidden Forest.' And do you know how vast it is?"
George and Fred exchanged looks. They had explored the edges of the forest before. They understood its scope.
"The Forbidden Forest stretches across most of Scotland," George said gravely. "A lot of magical herbs and creature parts sold in the wizarding world come from there. If we're looking for a hidden chamber in that, we might as well be searching the ocean."
Phineas nodded. "Exactly. It's like having no clue at all."
The three of them slumped onto the floor in silence, overwhelmed. Disappointment hung in the air like fog.
Each of them had hoped—perhaps even believed—that Hufflepuff's inheritance would yield something as powerful as Gryffindor's sword or Ravenclaw's wisdom. But with only the forest as a lead, their vision of treasure hunting had collapsed under its own weight.
Through the window, Phineas gazed toward the dark outline of the Forbidden Forest, unwilling to give up.
He had spent three years searching for Hufflepuff's legacy.
He wasn't ready to let it go.