One could easily imagine the result—he failed. It wasn't a secret door after all. If it had been, someone like Rowena Ravenclaw would surely have left no obvious magical residue behind for others to trace.
Still, if this wasn't a secret entrance, why was the magical residue so intense? It radiated even more strongly than the Room of Requirement itself.
As any skilled witch or wizard knows, magic always leaves traces. Even if one cannot detect the precise source or intensity, the lingering presence is unmistakable. But thanks to the magical perspective granted by Jonathan's Echo, Phineas now possessed a clarity far exceeding the average wizard's. Though he still couldn't distinguish the precise purpose of the magic, he could follow the trails they left behind.
That shelf—plain, wooden, and firmly affixed to the wall—was the only object within the alchemy lab where the magic converged so strongly.
Yet it wasn't a Portkey. It didn't respond to any known unlocking charm, concealment ward, or transformation spell.
Phineas was beginning to grow frustrated. If it wasn't the shelf itself, could it be the wall behind it?
He slumped onto the edge of a nearby desk, situated conveniently next to the shelf. Too tired to drag over the chair, he simply sat on the table and stared at the suspicious fixture, muttering, "So what exactly am I supposed to do?"
He knew he wasn't wrong—his magical sight showed a convergence of ancient magic. There had to be something here. But why would anyone affix an empty shelf to a wall unless it served a hidden purpose?
Then it clicked.
What if it wasn't the shelf at all, but the wall behind it?
With renewed determination, he leapt to his feet. "Diffindo!" he shouted, slashing his wand in a clean arc.
A sharp pink beam soared toward the wall and shelf—but just before it struck, a shimmering magical shield flared up, deflecting the spell.
A protective enchantment.
Though he couldn't identify which spell it was, it clearly wasn't a common Shield Charm. Something like this would require enormous magical power to still function after a millennium.
This was no ordinary defense. It confirmed what Phineas had suspected—Rowena Ravenclaw had indeed hidden something important here.
"If the Severing Charm doesn't work, then nothing else will either," he muttered, watching the shelf cautiously. "She doesn't want brute magic used here... then there must be another way in."
But what kind of access didn't require magic?
Phineas groaned and rubbed his temples. "I'm not a Ravenclaw... I'm Slytherin through and through. Puzzles and riddles aren't exactly my specialty."
Still, he couldn't give up. He had a lead—more than most ever got. And if magic wouldn't open the path, perhaps something else would.
He looked again at the fixed shelf. "If wizard magic won't work... what about someone else's magic?"
A grin slowly crept across his face.
"Puff!"
With a sharp pop, the house-elf appeared beside him and bowed deeply.
"Yes, Master?"
Phineas pointed at the shelf. "Separate that from the wall."
Puff nodded. "Yes, Master."
Snapping her fingers, Puff summoned a wave of unique magical energy. Unlike wizard magic, elf magic hummed through the air with raw, organic power. The protective enchantment trembled, flickered—and then, shattered.
The shelf floated silently away from the wall.
Success.
Phineas beamed. "Elven magic really is different."
Though Ravenclaw's protections were formidable, they were designed with wizards in mind. Puff's innate, ancient magic had bypassed them entirely.
And if Puff had failed? Phineas had planned to bring out the most ancient and powerful magic of all—Muggle carpentry.
He stepped forward to examine the newly exposed section of wall. As expected, there was an elaborate arcane sigil engraved into the stone. At its center was a small, circular groove.
Just then, Puff called out, "Master! There are runes on the back of the shelf!"
Phineas turned. "Runes? What kind?"
Runes—sometimes called the Ancient Script—were a rare and powerful magical language. Legends say that Odin discovered them after sacrificing an eye to the World Tree. Though once essential to ancient magic, their usage had all but disappeared. Only a few scholars could read them now, let alone cast spells with them.
Phineas stepped forward, his interest piqued. "What do they say?"