"The provider of the key information… what key information?"
As he walked back, Avada turned Snape's words over and over in his mind. Snape's office was only a few steps away from the Hufflepuff common room—he needed to think this through quickly.
"What kind of information would be necessary to push this so-called plan to its current stage… The coma incident was self-directed; as long as there were insiders cooperating, it could be carried out under almost any circumstances… As for the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle knew about those from the very beginning—there was no need for anyone else to tell him…"
"But now that I think about it, wasn't Dumbledore's performance throughout this entire affair a bit too passive?"
"Ugh, focus. What else could possibly count as 'key information'…"
"Right! Myrtle's memories and the Chamber password were changed right at the start of term!!"
Avada shuddered violently, nearly twisting his ankle on flat ground. "They knew someone would investigate the Chamber from the very beginning! And one of the reasons for using the coma incident to get rid of Dumbledore was to eliminate the roosters in the paintings!"
"Who told them?!"
He rubbed his temples hard, almost wanting to take every moment of his life—from birth up to the previous second—and pry it apart piece by piece, terrified that he might have slipped up somewhere…
But unfortunately, he found nothing. Before the school year began, he had never told anyone that he knew about the Chamber—at most, he'd only expressed some general concern on the train.
Back at the end of second year, he had gone to the abandoned bathroom once, but since he couldn't see souls at the time, he hadn't found anything. And on top of that, he'd been hiding within a spatial fold and had confirmed there was no one nearby…
"Could I have been hit with Legilimency?"
The absurd thought surfaced unbidden—only to be rejected the very next instant. With his level of Occlumency combined with his magical perception, someone might be able to brute-force their way through his defenses, but absolutely no one could read his mind silently without him noticing—not even Dumbledore!
"Then how did they know? Who could provide that kind of information?!"
"Do they have a Seer on their side? Or… do they have a transmigrator too?"
His thoughts scattered wildly as he trudged toward the Hufflepuff common room at a snail's pace. After all that thinking, he hadn't even made it halfway.
"Yo, Ken."
A familiar voice suddenly sounded behind him. Avada turned around and froze. "Baron?"
"Just came from Professor Snape's?"
Baron was holding a bucket of water in one hand and a mop in the other, an apron tied around his waist. He greeted Avada with a broad grin.
"That outfit…"
Avada stared blankly at him, pointed, rubbed his eyes, and after a long pause finally asked carefully, "You're in detention?"
"Yep."
"…What exactly happened?"
Baron was a model student—good grades, well-behaved. Seeing him in detention felt just as surreal to Avada as realizing someone had known from day one that he'd investigate the Chamber.
"Got caught sneaking into the Forbidden Forest."
Baron laughed it off casually, scrubbing the floor with the mop. "I'll tell you later—this detention was worth it. Big gains. And I'll need your help too. After dinner, meet me by the Room of Requirement. I'll show you something interesting…"
"Preferably not the Room of Requirement."
Avada was curious now. "Harry and the others have been brewing potions there lately… This isn't something that needs secrecy, is it?"
"No—quite the opposite, actually. Then let's use an empty classroom. The Potions classroom, maybe?"
"Works for me."
Seeing Baron clearly intent on keeping the suspense going, Avada didn't press him further. But the curiosity gnawed at him. After they parted ways, he once again forced himself to think about how that mysterious informant could have known he'd investigate the Chamber at the start of term…
And it only made things worse.
"This is ridiculous. What kind of mess is this… Why is a Horcrux Voldemort left behind more troublesome than the man himself?"
"Oh, right—I was the one hiding in the shadows scheming against him back then. Now it's his turn to hide and scheme against me… Is this karma?"
Sighing, he finally reached the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. From afar, he could already see students running back and forth between the kitchens and the common room, carrying bottles and jars, the place buzzing with activity.
"Ken!"
Rolf Scamander was hugging an armful of snacks as he headed from the kitchens toward the common room and spotted Avada at once. "Biscuits? Candy? Or chocolate?"
"What's going on?"
Avada pulled a Chocolate Frog from Rolf's arms, unwrapped it as he spoke. When he'd left earlier, the common room had still been suffocatingly gloomy—how had it suddenly become so lively?
"Susan just knocked out a whole barrel of balsamic vinegar!"
Rolf's face was flushed with excitement. "We're throwing a feast tonight just for that barrel—we're getting everything ready. Want some more?"
"A feast?"
At the mention of balsamic vinegar, Avada nearly jumped as well—but he quickly calmed down. "Isn't this… kind of bad timing? Muggle-born students are feeling pretty miserable right now."
"This feast is for them—balsamic vinegar can wash away any bad mood!"
Rolf explained with a grin. "Our Head of House made it very clear—we're not giving up on a single student. There are plenty of ways to deal with petrification now. Professors will teach in the common rooms, we can fly out the windows on broomsticks, and the Mandrakes are growing… If worst comes to worst, we'll ditch the castle altogether and move—professors and students together!"
"And while we're at it, we want to use the balsamic vinegar to help everyone cheer up a bit, and encourage those Muggle-born students not to give up on magic, on school life, or on the food from the kitchens… Good food always lifts spirits, right?"
"Sounds good. Need an extra pair of hands?"
Avada raised an eyebrow. The professors' words were inspiring, but their approach was still centered on resisting the so-called will of the castle. Did they really not know about the Basilisk, having been bluffed by Snape and the Board's rhetoric?
"Nope, we're almost done."
Rolf shook his head, then seemed to remember something. "Oh—Ken, you're Muggle-born yourself, right? I heard your name isn't on the Muggle-born list?"
"Yeah, I just asked Professor Snape. He said the school re-examined the records and found I might have some thin wizarding blood—like being descended from a Squib—so I got classified as a wizarding descendant."
"That works too? Congratulations!"
"Nothing to congratulate, really. This will get resolved sooner or later anyway…"
Watching Rolf disappear into the barrel with his snacks, Avada turned back, planning to ask Baron if he wanted to join the feast. He finally opened the Chocolate Frog in his hand and checked the card inside—
Herpo the Foul.
"Thanks. Really."
Avada's eye twitched.
(End of Chapter)