Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 323: The Four Founders, A Dialogue Across Millennia

Kyle wandered around the Chamber of Secrets. Not only had Riddle vanished, but even the Sectumsempra mark on the pillar to his left was gone. Everything that had happened felt like a strangely vivid dream. Yet, the sting on his thigh and the weight of the diary in his hands reminded him it was all real.

He finally turned his gaze to the Slytherin statue towering above him. Unsure of what had occurred, he decided to deal with the diary first—and hoped the Basilisk might still be under his control.

“Speak to me…” Kyle commanded in Parseltongue. But unlike before, the statue’s mouth remained sealed. Instead, the snake-shaped carvings on the nearby pillars started to move. They slithered down, winding around each other and closing in on him like real serpents.

The scene gave Kyle an unsettling sense of déjà vu. Surely, this had to be a dream. Maybe I just didn’t pinch myself hard enough to wake up last time, he thought, gritting his teeth and preparing to try again.

But then a deep, resonant voice echoed from above the chamber.

“Yes? What do you wish to say?”

“Who’s there?” Kyle looked up sharply.

As the voice resounded, the animated snake statues began intertwining, forming a massive circular archway above him. A shimmering, soap-bubble-like curtain appeared within the arch, rippling gently. And through it, a figure emerged—a middle-aged wizard in a green robe, looking down at Kyle with a neutral expression.

“Weren’t you just about to speak to me?” he asked.

“You… me…” Kyle stammered, too stunned to form a coherent response. A name hovered in his mind, but it seemed too absurd to be real.

“Salazar, I think you should offer a bit more guidance. The poor child looks thoroughly lost,” came another voice.

A second figure appeared in the arch—a plump witch, looking exactly like the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff in the Hufflepuff common room.

This has to be a dream! Kyle muttered to himself.

“You’re not dreaming, I assure you,” chimed in a smiling wizard in a red cloak—the third person to step through the arch. Behind him was a stern-faced witch, cold and composed.

The four figures were unmistakably complete.

It took Kyle a moment to gather his thoughts. Ruffling his hair in disbelief, he managed to say, “This… this is impossible…”

“I suppose you know who we are,” the wizard in the red cloak said, his smile widening as he adjusted his pointed hat, as if to give Kyle a hint.

“Yes… I’m just struggling to believe it.” Kyle stared up at them, dumbfounded. “From what I know, you all lived over a thousand years ago… How could I possibly be seeing you?”

“Because of time,” Salazar Slytherin said, his tone calm. “You awakened the Basilisk but failed to put it back to sleep properly. Without the full incantation, the Basilisk’s instinctual behavior led it to damage a particular Time-Turner hidden within the statue.”

He pulled out a golden pocket watch from his robe pocket. “There are two of these—one in the future, one in the past. If the one in the future is destroyed, it creates a link between the two, bridging the gap across centuries.”

Kyle nodded, though only partially understanding. So when he first summoned the Basilisk, Salazar Slytherin, across thousands of years, had already sensed it happening. This was beyond any magic Kyle had encountered before—almost a form of foresight.

“But why didn’t you reveal yourself earlier?” Kyle asked, bewildered.

“Because he couldn’t,” Gryffindor chuckled heartily. “Salazar’s little setup here was originally meant to keep an eye on me, just in case I decided to mess with his precious Basilisk. But poor old Salazar never expected you to turn up a thousand years later! The gap in time is simply too vast, and the link between the Time-Turners too weak for him to reach you directly… unless, of course, something has altered the stability of your timeline.”

Gryffindor’s eyes twinkled. “I suspect you’ve meddled quite persistently with the Time-Turner at some point?”

Kyle felt a pang of understanding. No wonder things had always felt slightly off. It all made sense now—he’d disregarded the usual course requirements, signing up for twelve classes at once, bending rules to get a Time-Turner, not just once but twice…

“It was you!” Kyle blurted, realization dawning on him. “All those strange voices I heard…”

“Think of them as a small side effect,” Gryffindor grinned. “Salazar here didn’t exactly approve of your little side project with the Basilisk, so he kept a close eye. But most of it was Rowena’s doing. She was curious to see how far you’d go, so she cast a rather clever charm… let’s call it the Confundus Charm. Using the castle statues as conduits, she subtly encouraged you to keep your Basilisk activities hidden from the others.”

Rowena Ravenclaw watched him with an unflinching expression, neither confirming nor denying Gryffindor’s words.

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Kyle, and all his previous doubts melted away. It suddenly made sense why he’d felt so uneasy every time he tried to tell Dumbledore about the Basilisk. He would never have guessed that the Founders themselves had been behind it.

A flood of questions surged through Kyle’s mind, but just then, the figures before him began to flicker, their images fading and growing more distorted.

“We’re almost out of time,” said Helga Hufflepuff, nudging Gryffindor aside. “Listen carefully, dear. I know you have questions, but there’s no time for them now. What you need to do is restore the timeline; otherwise, you risk being trapped in this loop forever.”

“Take my advice, lad,” Gryffindor added. “Never touch the Time-Turner again; it’s already weakened your protections.”

“As a courtesy,” Slytherin spoke coolly, “I’ll assist in resetting the timeline this once. And you may take the Basilisk along. The password to send it back to sleep is: Sleep in peace, awaiting glory on the morrow.”

“You’re neglecting your Occlumency,” Rowena Ravenclaw spoke up at last, her voice serene. “Mastery of the mind isn’t as simple as you think. When you face an impasse, wear my diadem.”

The archway turned into a shimmering blur, dissolving into static, and then vanished entirely. The snakes composing the arch climbed back up the pillar, and an eerie silence settled once more over the Chamber of Secrets.

Kyle let out a long breath. He had just met the Founders of Hogwarts, speaking to them face-to-face, a thousand years after their time. It defied logic—but in its own way, it was profoundly magical.

He tried to absorb the surreal experience, but Hufflepuff’s words echoed urgently in his mind. If he didn’t act, he might be stranded in this altered time forever. Without hesitation, he sprinted out of the Chamber of Secrets.

Emerging from the passage, he was met with an unusual stillness—no sign of Professor McGonagall, no Harry. Kyle climbed back up through the pipe leading to the castle, the sounds of chatter and laughter filling the hallways. It struck him how long it had been since he’d heard such vibrant, ordinary noises.

He followed the corridor until he spotted two students walking together.

“Hello,” Kyle greeted them, approaching.

“Oh, I know you! Kyle, from Hufflepuff,” one of them said with a friendly smile. “I’m Terry Boot, Ravenclaw.”

“Sally-Anne Perks,” said the other, smiling shyly. “We’re both second-years in Ravenclaw.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kyle responded politely. “Mind if I ask where you’re headed?”

“To the Halloween feast, of course!” Terry Boot exclaimed. “I hear Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged a skeleton dance troupe. This year’s Halloween is going to be amazing!”