After the Herbology class, Robert handed the scissors and the wrapped shriveled figs to Professor Sprout and returned to the Castle with the others.
"I'm a bit hungry," Harry said, rubbing his stomach. "I hope there's still pumpkin pie for dinner tonight. It tasted really good."
"That was only for Halloween," Hermione replied. "Tonight should be beef pie."
"That's good too," Harry said with a smile.
After crossing the grounds, they soon reached the stone steps of the Castle.
"Quickly, Harry, we're waiting for you!"
Oliver Wood stood at the Castle entrance in his red Quidditch robes, waving energetically at Harry. "I was just about to head to the greenhouses to find you."
"Oliver, is something wrong?" Harry asked.
"Of course not—it's training!"
Oliver pulled out the broom he had slung behind him. "Professor McGonagall said we can use the Quidditch pitch again now that Halloween's over. I even posted a notice in the common room yesterday morning. You didn't miss it, did you?"
Only then did Harry remember that he had joined the Quidditch team.
"Hurry up," Wood urged, dragging him along. "We're two months behind schedule. We've got to make up for all the lost time before our first match!"
"My broom..." Harry began hesitantly, "It's still in the common room. I need to go back—"
"Don't worry. The Weasley twins already brought it for you."
Before he could even eat dinner, Harry was whisked away to training.
From what Wood said, it sounded like he intended to make up every minute of missed training time in just a few days. Hopefully, Harry would still be able to walk back when it was all over.
Robert returned to the Castle, but instead of heading to the common room with Ron and Hermione, he went to the library. He didn't stay to read, though. He waited until most students had left, then made his way alone to the eighth floor, wandering aimlessly.
"It should be around here," Robert murmured, stopping in a quiet corridor, eyeing a tapestry thoughtfully.
The tapestry showed Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls. Opposite it stood a blank wall—no portraits, no armor, just stone.
Alright, let's try.
Robert began pacing in front of the wall, focusing on what he needed.
A place to hide things... a place to hide things...
After the third pass, the once-blank wall shimmered—and a door appeared.
It was new and pristine, with a gleaming golden handle.
The Room of Requirement, Hogwarts' most magical room. It was said to transform into whatever space was most needed by the user.
If someone needed to hide from Filch during a midnight stroll, it might become a broom cupboard. If someone wanted to practice spells, it could become a training room filled with magical equipment.
Robert needed a place to hide something.
He grasped the handle and pushed the door open.
What he saw inside made him gasp.
The room was vast, larger than the Great Hall, with no clear pathways. Cabinets stacked to the ceiling leaned precariously. Mountains of broken cauldrons, crooked chairs, shattered glass, spellbooks, candlesticks, and bed frames filled every space.
Centuries of discarded, hidden, or forgotten items—piled in chaos.
Robert stood in the doorway, hesitant to enter. After a moment, he closed the door with a thud and resumed pacing.
A place to hide something important... preferably where the Ravenclaw Diadem—a Horcrux—is visible the moment I open the door...
He repeated the walk three more times, refining the request each time. Yet, the scene inside didn't change. The chaotic treasure hoard remained.
Apparently, while the Room could change what it contained, the location of the entrance remained fixed.
He had no choice but to steel himself and walk into the labyrinth of clutter.
Robert wanted to find the Diadem—but had no clue where to begin.
The sheer scale was overwhelming. He stepped carefully, narrowly avoiding toppling an unstable pile. One misstep—kicking an umbrella—brought down a cascade of suitcases, kettles, and brooms, triggering a domino effect of collapsing furniture.
After that, he walked more cautiously, inching along narrow, winding paths. Half an hour passed. The cluttered maze stretched endlessly ahead.
Worried he might get lost, Robert eventually turned back. Along the way, he spotted a few diadems—but none were the one he sought.
It took him another half hour to return to the entrance—and he had only explored one small part of the maze.
In Robert's opinion, finding the Ravenclaw Diadem in a short time was nearly impossible. Unless he skipped the holidays and spent two full months here, there was little hope.
But even if he were willing, the school would never allow it.
Robert began to suspect that Harry's ability to find the Diadem later was likely due to the connection between him and the Horcrux.
Maybe I should bring Harry here and let him try?
He stroked his chin in thought.
Calling Harry over wouldn't be difficult. Asking for his help would be simple. But there was a problem—Harry was curious. Too curious. He couldn't keep secrets well, which could easily lead to more trouble.
After all, Robert's plan to use a piece of Voldemort's soul as a wand core wasn't exactly legal. It was better to keep others out of it.
Never mind, I'll think about it later, Robert thought. Besides, Harry probably didn't have the time to help him right now.
And indeed—Harry was busy. Oliver Wood was training the team relentlessly, seemingly wishing he could book the pitch eight days a week.
Marcus Flint of Slytherin was doing the same. The two teams often clashed over pitch access, though no one had ended up in the Hospital Wing yet.
They held back only because they feared Professor McGonagall might ban them from the pitch entirely.
Still, the seven brand-new Nimbus 2001 brooms that Slytherin flew on made Oliver uneasy. He ended up scheduling training during the early morning, leaving evenings for the other houses.
While other teams trained after dinner until curfew, Wood had Gryffindor training before breakfast. Then, just for good measure, he also kept the three scheduled evening sessions.
It was brutal.
Every morning at five, Harry would be dragged out of bed by Oliver. Bleary-eyed, he would trudge to the pitch with his broom.
He was so tired lately that dark circles were visible under his eyes. During one dinner, he nearly face-planted into his porridge.
"Maybe I should ask Professor McGonagall to give Oliver two days of detention," Robert muttered. "Harry looks like he's going to fall asleep mid-flight. A break would help everyone."
Harry jolted upright. "No! Absolutely not," he said quickly. "I'm afraid that after detention, he'll make us start at four in the morning."
He yawned. "What day is it today?"
"Tuesday," Hermione replied.
"Good," Harry breathed in relief. "No training tonight. I can finally do my homework and go to bed early."
Seeing his exhausted expression, Hermione offered, "Would you like to borrow my homework?"
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said gratefully. "You're a lifesaver."
"That gives me an extra hour to sleep," he added.
"Yes, thank you," Ron echoed.
"You don't have Quidditch training. Do it yourself," Hermione snapped.
Ron frowned and turned away, sulking.
Normally, Harry would step in to smooth things over, but right now, he didn't have the energy.
Robert, meanwhile, had other things on his mind.
After dinner, he once again visited the Room of Requirement.
At first, he had come solely to search for the Diadem. But over the past few days, he realized something else—this place was a treasure trove.
He had found a seven-branched broomstick from the fourteenth century. Though it was no longer usable, the magical craftsmanship had preserved it well.
Flying was considered an elite sport back then, so only the best materials were used.
When Robert disassembled the broom, he saw the intricate runes and grain inside—two-hundred-year-old white ash from Swedish magical forests. Even after six centuries, the wood's pattern shimmered like a piece of art.
He also found a sixteenth-century Silver Arrow. More recent brooms, like the Moonbeam and the Comet from fifty years ago, were too new to interest him, so he put them back.
He uncovered strange eggshells and gemstones too. The magical auras in the eggshells had faded, and the gemstones—though pretty—seemed laced with dangerous residue.
It seemed that most items hidden here were left by students who never bothered to retrieve them—perhaps for good reason. Robert had stumbled across a bloodstained axe and bottles glowing with dark energy.
Each visit, he searched carefully. Each time, he left without the Diadem.
Eventually, he concluded that he would have no choice but to involve Harry—when the time was right.
Robert sighed and returned to the common room.
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