Chapter 47

After teasing the gatekeeper statue, Wayne felt much better and walked into the passage happily. 

The spiral staircase inside was automatic. Wayne stood on it and was sent to the door. The door was closed, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin's head. From the door knocker, Wayne could feel powerful magic. It was a very good magic item. If a wizard tried to force their way through the wooden door of the principal's office, it would transform into a brass griffin and attack. This kind of creature was very powerful, on par with a fire dragon. Hogwarts still had a rich heritage. 

Wayne sighed inwardly and felt the urge to take off the door knocker and bring it home. He could not create alchemy items of this level yet. But Wayne just thought about it. After all, he couldn't beat Dumbledore. Like Cedric stroking the Nimbus 2000, Wayne played with the door knocker before pushing the door open. 

The principal's office was a gorgeous round room with a high ceiling and very good lighting. It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, and the warm sunlight entered the room and shone on the gems, emitting a faint glow.

"It's such a luxury... I'm not even that extravagant," Wayne muttered.

In other parts of Hogwarts, oil lamps and candles were usually used for lighting, but the principal's office had gems instead. 

Dumbledore was not in the room. Wayne casually found a soft chair and sat on it, looking at the layout of the office. The most abundant things here were undoubtedly books. Almost half of the wall was covered with bookshelves, leading directly to the roof. There was also a spiral staircase next to it for easy access. Secondly, there were the portraits on the other half of the wall. Although there was no one here, Wayne always felt that he was being watched by many eyes. But when he turned around, the portraits showed no response, just like Muggle portraits, motionless. Near the edge of the big desk, a stone round basin was placed on a high stool. Wayne knew that it was the Pensieve, a very precious memory storage and reproduction tool.

As soon as he entered this room, Wayne felt like he wanted to take everything home with him. On the other side of the desk, there was a floor-to-ceiling mirror placed diagonally. It was very tall. Most of the mirror was covered by velvet cloth, and only the bracket and a small part of the mirror were exposed.

"Hey, that boy."

A sharp voice suddenly sounded, and Wayne turned around. A portrait 'came' to life.

"You've been looking at it for a long time. Do you know what it is?"

Wayne walked over and saw an old man with a goatee and a silver-green robe. The nameplate below the portrait had his introduction: "Phineas Nigellus Black (1847-1925)."

Wayne shook his head. "It's covered. How could I possibly know what it is?"

"Humph, I don't know." Phineas stroked his goatee with an expression of extreme disgust. "That's the Mirror of Erised. Do you know what the Mirror of Erised is?"

Wayne made a listening expression.

"It shows you the most urgent and strongest desires deep in your heart. Do you want to know what you want most at this time?"

Phineas said seductively, "Go and try it. Dumbledore has been looking at the mirror until dawn every day recently, and he is almost obsessed."

"Not interested," Wayne replied, waving his hand and sitting back in his seat, bored. "I want everything now, and nothing matters. It's all in vain."

These words reflected Wayne's true feelings. He was interested in everything but felt little emotion. Wayne knew that sooner or later, he would get what he wanted. It was unwavering confidence.

Phineas was taken aback by Wayne's reaction. "No, you didn't even look at it, so how can you talk nonsense here?"

Wayne glanced at him. "No wonder you are the most unpopular principal in the school's history. Why do you care whether I look in the mirror?"

"You deserve to be scolded for doing so many things even after you're dead."

There was a brief silence in the room, and then laughter erupted. The principals, who had been pretending to be dead, could no longer contain themselves and burst out laughing. 

A big-nosed principal pointed at Phineas, saying, "Blake, you have a day like this. You were scolded by a student!"

A chubby-looking woman clapped her hands and applauded. "As expected from our little Hufflepuff wizard, he knows who he is!"

"Don't laugh! Don't laugh!" Phineas shouted angrily, "Damn little wizard, if I were still alive, I would fire you immediately!"

"Then come back to life," Wayne said, spreading his hands. He started getting prompts for earning points. Good guy, do you get points for criticizing the former principal? This is a good thing.

Phineas was furious at his attitude. "You brats! You Hufflepuff idiots! You'll be a chef and salesperson for the rest of your life!"

That was the breaking point. Phineas's outburst offended all the Hufflepuff principals. A grumpy principal couldn't help it. He disappeared from his own photo frame and appeared in Phineas's, raising his fist to hit Phineas on the nose. Other Hufflepuff principals followed, joining in on the righteous gang fight.

Phineas screamed repeatedly while the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw headmasters cheered, and the Slytherin headmaster was unwilling to help. Despite belonging to the same house, Phineas's bad attitude had offended nearly everyone in less than a hundred years.

Wayne watched the principals' brawl with a smile, nodding appreciatively from time to time. Look at that side kick—so powerful. The black tiger digging out the heart—so authentic. It was clear that the end of the mage is close combat, the kind that doesn't even use a wand.

Just as Wayne was watching enthusiastically, the door to the principal's office opened. Dumbledore walked in and was stunned by the chaotic scene. Then he noticed the untouched flannel and looked deeply at Wayne with a smile.

"It seems I came at the wrong time?"

"No, Principal," Wayne shook his head, "You came at the right time. If it had been any later, Principal Phineas would have been beaten to death."